Chapter 20
Yelena is getting angry now.
Layla keeps doing everything that she can to push off actually calling a meeting with the gods. Yelena is wasting precious time.
“That’s it!” Yelena snaps, tugging the borrowed hoodie off of her. “Enough is enough.”
“Hey--” Layla stands from where she had been translating ‘something important’. “Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving!” Yelena tells Layla, throwing the hoodie at her. “Since you won’t fucking help me!”
“I will--” Layla catches the hoodie. “We have a vow--”
“Well, when Tawaret finds Khonshu then she can fight with him all she wants!” Yelena knows that it’s dangerous to break a vow but Tawaret is a soft and kind goddess. She won’t wage a war with Khonshu over this.
Khonshu, however, would give Yelena a very long lecture about the importance of vows and how dangerous it was to break them.
“Hey--” Layla grabs onto Yelena’s shoulder and Yelena doesn’t think twice before turning and smashing her fist against Layla’s jaw. She freezes as Layla stumbles backward, gripping her face as she bumps into her table. A set of books stacked tumbles to the ground. Layla pushes herself toward Yelena but Yelena backs up away from her. Layla reaches out and Yelena half expects Khonsu to yell at her to duck.
Yelena violently flinches away, bracing herself for a hit that never comes. When Yelena dares to peek at Layla, her hand is hovering out in the air but her face isn’t angry at all, in fact, she looks rathered saddened. Yelena doesn’t really want to leave and disrespect Tawaret by breaking the vow. She’s just frustrated and upset that Layla is stalling for time.
“I’m sorry.” Layla said quietly, her hand finally dropping and instead reaches up to rub her jaw.
Yelena curls her fingers into fists and looks down at her shoes. She punched the avatar she had a vow with. She watches Layla before she slowly sinks to her knees in front of her. “I apologize for my transgression. Please forgive me.” It’s not unlike a Red Room apology. Yelena keeps expecting to hear Khonshu’s voice in her ear telling her off for her behavior. But he wasn’t there to guide her and she didn’t know what she was doing.
“No. This was my fault,” Layla says, shaking her head. “Please stop kneeling.” She says with a soft sigh. “This was my doing.”
Yelena cannot get up just yet. She’s frustrated that Khonshu isn’t there to help her and that Layla doesn’t know the exact details of the vow she had made.
“Yelena?” Layla prompts, crouching down next to her.
“Tell her.” Yelena closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “Tawaret, tell her.”
Layla paused, stiffening as she turns her head to presumably listen to what Tawaret had to say. “Oh…” Layla breathes out before looking back at Yelena. “You’re forgiven.”
Yelena slumps in on herself. “Please, just call a meeting.”
“Okay.” Layla agrees and then reaches out slowly. “Let’s get up. C’mon.”
Yelena lets Layla tug her up to her feet. Layla picks up the discarded hoodie and holds it out to Yelena. Yelena slowly tugs it back on, pushing her hands into the pocket as she peers at Layla.
“I’m going to make lunch and then I’m going to call a meeting. I promise,” Layla says quietly. “You should… get changed. Ready.”
Yelena glances at Layla before shuffling toward the bedroom.
She likes the hoodie that Layla had given her to borrow. She hadn’t had one as big or as soft as it before. She chose practical clothes that she could move around in easier. A big hoodie was too easy to get caught on something.
Still, Yelena changes back into her original outfit, inspecting the healed puncture marks on her chest. She runs her fingers over them before they trail up to the thin scar running across her throat. She would like to think that if her throat hadn’t been cut then she could have talked things out with Natasha.
Layla had washed her clothes for her. Yelena can see that the double hole in her tank top had been stitched shut. She doesn’t know how to feel about Layla doing that with her clothes. Layla could have given Yelena some new clothes altogether. But instead, she gave Yelena back her original clothing and had washed and fixed it up as well.
Yelena tugs the tank top and leggings on before she paused and peered at herself in the mirror. After a moment, she tugs the hoodie back on.
She had barely aged in the past five years. She didn’t really look any different than the fifteen-year-old who died on the steps of Khonshu’s statue. She wonders if her sister would even recognize her considering what she should look like.
“Hey!” Layla knocks on the bathroom door. “Come eat!”
Yelena hadn’t realized how long she had been staring at herself for. She tended to avoid mirrors for that very reason. She’d get lost in her head as she thinks over if she recognized her body. Khonshu would sometimes drop a towel over her head to make her stop staring. She startled so badly the first time he had done it, spinning around to look for an attacker. Khonshu’s staff just barely stopped her from smashing her fist into the mirror because she didn’t recognize herself.
Yelena exits the bathroom and shuffles toward the kitchen. Layla sets a bowl down in front of the place Yelena had sat last time. She doesn’t mention how Yelena was still wearing the hoodie.
Yelena starts to eat without bothering to look at it. She wasn’t worried about poisons. As soon as she puts the spoon into her mouth, she paused, looking down at the dish. “Is this borscht?” She should have recognized the scent but it had been over a decade since she had it last.
“Yes,” Layla gives her a sheepish smile. “I just-- when I made food yesterday then you ate it like you hadn’t had a homecooked meal in a while. So I looked up traditional Russian dishes.”
Yelena dips her spoon back down into the soup and brings it back up to her lips, savoring the taste. She blinks away the tears that form in her eyes.
“Is it okay?” Layla asked nervously, shifting in place as she waited to hear Yelena’s opinion.
“The last time I had borscht, I was six,” Yelena murmurs, peering down at her bowl. “My… my mama had told me that it was important I know where I come from. I haven’t had it in fourteen years.” Yelena eats another spoonful, ducking her head down. “Thank you.” She whispers.
Layla says nothing else but continues to eat, letting Yelena soak up the nostalgic comfort the dish brought to her. Yelena remembers how the woman she once called her mother would make them blini and borscht on special occasions. Natasha had always been much quieter on those days but would ask for seconds and thirds.
Yelena finishes the dish and then peers up at Layla. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Layla takes her empty dish and sets it into the sink. “Let me get dressed. Then I’ll call a meeting.”
Yelena has to tug the hoodie she had borrowed off and folds it up neatly as Layla gets changed in the bedroom. Yelena sets it down onto the counter and summons the suit to her. It feels weird to wear it while Khonshu was gone, especially when she would usually have to be argued to wear it in the first place. Layla steps out of the bathroom in her own suit that Yelena could tell that Tawaret made by the amount of gold in it.
“Are you ready?” Layla inquired, adjusting the metal braces on her forearms.
“I’m ready,” Yelena tilts her head to the side. “What do I call you?”
Layla peers over at her and grins. “You can call me Scarlet Scarab.”
“Scarlet Scarab,” Yelena repeats before offering her a smile back. “I’m White Knight.”
Layla’s smile is blinding as she reaches out to poke the cheek of the mask covering Yelena’s face. “What are you waiting for, White Knight? We’ve got a meeting to call.”