Conflict resolution

"She's... shaken." Emily solemnly sighs.

"Yeah. Has it gotten better or worse?" you inquire further.

"About the same, I would say."

You look at the door to Claire's room. The only thing you can hear is the stove heating up another round of porridge. After staring down the door, and being denied any type of visual response you look into the eyes of Emily. Her umber eyes shimmers sympathetically. Her lips in a slight reassuring smile. Her brow raised slightly in the middle to emphasize her understanding. Her round raccoon ears slightly lowered to signify the sadness of the situation. You don't know what your face tells her, but you hope it is regret.
You move towards her carefully grab her head with both hands and you tenderly kiss her lips. Emily throws her left arm around your neck and leans into your lips.

"You're treating this differently than I expected." she says contemplatively, furrowing her brow.

"'This'?"

"Figuring out things between us. Defining 'us'. I figured I had to tease you and pressure you relentlessly to show some affection, but... it seems like you like it too much to act tough about it."

"That's not why I act the way I do." you explain, your voice getting a bit sterner: "I don't care about what other folks think."

"So what is this about?"

"I care about what I think... or at least what I used to think. And I used to think that relations and companionships were a waste of time."

"And you don't now?"

"There is one thing I'm scared off." you admit looking down on the creaky floorboards: "That is losing control. You saw it in the stables. An ill body can heal. I can power through it. An ill mind can show me all the things I rather not see."

Emily moves over to you and places her hand on your shoulder, as she obstructs your line of vision to the floor with her beautiful face.

"Okay, but what does that have to do with this?" she asks carefully.

"If I were to be alone. Just me in the desert with a carbine rifle, drinking my own piss, shooting everybody who looked at me funny, the worst thing I can fear is ****, and that's never really been scary to me. But hurting you, and I start beating people to ****. I am... scared. I am afraid of truly loving you. That if someone takes you away from me, I will never recover."

"Then why the kiss?"

"Because if I'm right about you..." you say, while looking into her eyes once again: "Then you're worth it."

She presses her lips against yours once again. Her eyes are closed, and there are tears in them. You think they mean well.

You detach, give each other a small knowing smile, and you make your way towards Claire's room. Emily stops you by grabbing your hand.

"Listen, I don't think, she thinks that you will hurt her," she starts: "but that girl has seen too much **** in too short of a time. We all have, but she is the youngest of us, and she lost her parents, and then the person she attached herself too suddenly lost control. Again, I understand your fear, but seen from her perspective these last few days haven't given her any reason to try going outside ever again."

You nod sedately in response.

"I'll continue to stir the porridge then." Emily excuses herself.

You take a deep breath. Then another. Then another. Then one more. You regulate your breathing pattern. And then you knock on the door.

"Who is it?" it sounds from the other side. Her voice is crackly and fragmented. It sounds like she has been crying. Her light tone of voice doesn't travel well through the door. It makes your heart sink, and your shoulders slump.

"It's..." you take another deep breath: "It's Jess."

"Oh." she sobs.

Here goes. You close your eyes.

"I just came by to say that I'm sorry." you say holding back tears: "I'm sorry Claire."

There's a long pause. You ponder if she's heard you. You debate whether to repeat what you just said, fearing she has heard, but doesn't want to hear it.

"He killed my parents." she says in an uncharacteristically lifeless tone.

"They're in prison now. Sooner or later someone will come and pi-"

"No," she interrupts: "I mean the guy from the stables yesterday. He shot my parents. The other bandits got in a firefight with them. Mom and dad were sitting in the living room, ducked beneath the window, shooting from cover. This guy sneaked around the back of the house and entered through the window to my room. He got from the window to the top of my bed, then he left my room and shot my parents in the back. Then he just dragged them out on the street for the rest of the town to see as they burned down their houses."

"And you saw all of that happening?" you ask hoping your voice inflects a tone of concern. There's another small pause.

"I was hiding under my bed." she affirms: "I wanted to yell out, but I was scared."

"You did the sensible thing." you say.

"My parents are dead because of it." she cries.

"You are alive because of it, and that's what your parents would have wanted."

"But it hurts so much not having them here."

"I bet it does. More than I can imagine." you say as you plump down on the floor. You lean back against the door.

"You've never lost someone you cared about?" she asks. You can hear her shuffling on the other side of the door. A small thud is heard, and you feel a small push against your back as Claire also leans back against the door mirroring how you sit.

"Well, I've never cared about anybody till now." you admit. It not really true, but you're not sure if you should talk about Gwen right now: "I thought he had killed Emily yesterday, and I went out of control."

"If I could, I would have killed him too." Claire admits. It doesn't sit right with you.

"Don't talk nonsense." you lightly scold her: "I saw your look of horror yesterday. It doesn't matter how justified you were. Whether it's ****, protection, or self-defense, killing is always ugly. It will always leave scars."

"So why do you do it?" she asks.

"I don't know. I just get angry. It's an urge of a kind. My hands shake, I begin to sweat. When I was a part of the orc camp, it was just routine. Everyone was angry. But ever since I got this fucking hole in my stomach, my head has been cloudy. But that might just be from me being in pain all the time."

"That doesn't sound healthy, Jess." Claire's voice is starting to return to the concerned timbre you're used to.

"It isn't. I'm kinda damaged, Claire." you answer.

"Then why are you being such an idiot!?" Claire unexpectedly yells, as she gets up from the floor: "You think it's okay for you to be hurt? Do you think that nobody cares that everyday you seem to be on the verge of dying? Do you think I won't be sad if you leave me?"

"Farah was right." you say in response: "You do get attached easily." You feel stupid saying it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth.

Suddenly the door swings open. Claire has pulled it towards her. Since you were leaning on it, you fall back onto the floor. Claire looks down at you with tears in her eyes.

"You big jerk." she mutters, as she kneels next to you. She swings one leg over your body, taking great care in avoiding your injury, and then she lays her body upon yours and hugs you tightly. You wrap your arms around her petite body. After a couple of minutes Emily sticks her head into the hallway.

"Okay, lovebirds." she teases: "Lunch is ready."

The three of you eat lunch together as you casually chat about a small variety of topics. It's honestly pretty nice. Nothing of note really happens the rest of the day. You make the rest of your rounds, and when that proves pointless, you start fixing the window you broke. Luckily the general store has some tools you can borrow and some extra glass you tell Aayesha to subtract from your salary. You're not the most handy of women out there, but replacing some window panes proved to be easy enough.
Dinner was more of the same, but it's a same you enjoy. It didn't take long after that for you to head to bed. While both you and Emily seemed interested in being intimate again, Claire had asked to sleep with you, and considering everything, you found it the best to let her.
You lie down on the bed, shortly after Emily and Claire joins you. Emily snuggles into your left shoulder while Claire snuggles into your right. You hold them both in your arms as you fall asleep.

Author's note: Hi. I don't like to write author's notes, so I'll refrain from doing it often. I'm sorry about the long absence. Unfortunately that's par for the course for me. I'll try to do better. Keyword: try. I'm bad at responsibilities. If you're one of those people that likes chapters and stuff. Thanks! What I do value the most are comments though. Never be scared to say if you think something I write is stupid. I have most of the main plot points of the main story outlined, but there are a bunch of variables between those points which are up for debate. It's also kind of hard for me to evaluate how well I am doing. So any feedback on any chapter at any time, positive or negative is always welcome and appreciated. I also wonder if my stuff is too dialogue-heavy. I just really love writing dialogue. I know there isn't a lot of sex stuff or action stuff. That's just how I am; I sprinkle that stuff in lightly, mostly only if it also fits a story purpose. I hope that's bearable. We'll get to some more fairly soon don't worry. Sex stuff then action stuff. Thanks for reading so far! Love ya.