Editing Fallen from Grace (section)

===Chapter Two===
Utter terror gripped T’riss as she stumbled, tumbling through the darkness. All around her, the sinister laughter of a being beyond mortal comprehension permeated the void, and her soul. “Teach your little pet whatever tricks you like. You’ll be mine soon enough…” 

Adeon was woken by a bloodcurdling scream, causing him to jolt upright and nearly charge into T’riss room. On arrival, he came to find her writhing about, clutching her skull and coated in a layer of cold sweat. Wasting no time, he practically dove to her bedside, shouting as he did, “Ma’am! T’riss!” The later left his mouth almost as an afterthought, even though she had made it perfectly clear weeks ago that it was how she preferred to be addressed. Regardless, it would be this that finally caused her eyes to snap open. Finally aware of her surroundings, T’riss slowly ceased her spasms and screams, coming to rest on her side. Her field of vision was consumed by the face of Adeon, his brows furrowed and his eyes darting across her face.  All she could do to respond was to cry, while holding her trembling body.

Of no surprise, T’riss was absent from breakfast that morning, leaving Adeon to dine by himself in silence. It was the third such night-terror she’d experienced in the four months since her arrival, and each one was becoming worse and worse. T’riss might have thought she was doing a good job of hiding the strain on her face in the days that followed them, but Adeon knew something was amiss. Whatever caused a saint like her to scream like that couldn’t be something he could help with, though, leaving him with a sinking feeling of helplessness. He almost didn’t realize that he’d brought the same piece of grox bacon to his mouth three times. Taking note of this, Adeon scowled, tossing the food onto the plate and standing. After bundling up, he stormed outside into the snow, door slamming behind him.

The sharp thud sent a pang of guilt across T’riss’ heart, which was further amplified when she caught sight of the primate striding through the drifts below.  She hadn’t slept since the nightmare, only faking sleep so as to allow Adeon to get some of his own. “The mon’keigh practically worships you,” she half-mused, still leaning against the windowsill, “yet here you are actually caring about his foolish reactions.” It was true that, ever since she had started teaching him to read and write his own primitive language, his behavior had begun changing. An added spring in his step, a constant stupid grin, all because she simply graced him with the time of day. It wasn’t anywhere near the same as training new kablites, but it still brought her a certain sense of…satisfaction to see her pupil progress.

Sighing, T’riss pushed this train of thought away, eyes straying from the snow-covered plains outside to the nightstand where her crumpled note resided. She hadn’t moved it since making it months ago, choosing to keep it around as a constant reminder of her situation. Outcast, betrayer, probably assumed dead at her former-Sybarite’s sword. All because of her weakness: she had a heart. It went against everything she had been told since being removed from her tube. Dark Eldar did not need compassion, let alone anything resembling morals. They simply got in the way of doing what was necessary to survive, to avoid the pull of the being that had been haunting her sleep as of late. 

It had been close to eight months since her last feeding - the longest gap since her first,  seven years ago. Though it was never easy for her to do what was required for her meals, she always found a way to stomach the dread that usually followed for weeks afterwards. Now that she was in a place where obtaining such substance was impossible, T’riss found herself questioning the entire concept as the now-familiar, constant discomfort panged from behind her temples. Did her people really need to go to such lengths to resist eternal damnation? She certainly never had any problems before her first feeding, and it always did seem that the older of her kin needed near-daily intake. This line of thought confused and worried T’riss. She had heard tales of how horrible and ruthless species like the mon’keighs were, and that her kind simply did what it had to to survive. Given her time on this planet, though, she couldn’t help but wonder, “What if *we* are the cruel ones?”

The pungent smell of grox dung assaulted Adeon’s nose as he entered their stables to check on his stock. There was little else to do in the winter months but clean the stables, and even then the servitors handled the majority of the work. Mainly, his days as of late simply involved making sure things were running as they should, and that none of the grox had keeled over during the night. Only once a week did he actually have to exert himself to scour that which the servitors missed, and sadly today was not one of them. This left Adeon with naught else to do but begin walking back to the house, a fresh coat of snow beginning to pile up as the overcast skies unleashed their burdens.

“Maybe I should tell someone about her,” Adeon grumbled to himself, not finding this idea to his liking. “After all, a saint like her don’t belong in a place like this, with a simple man like me. I’m just makin’ her miserable.” It was true, T’riss rarely did communicate her feelings, outside of the evening episodes. Even during his lessons, just getting a small smirk from her would often be reward enough to get him to push himself harder. He didn’t mind, of course, since he had no right being even able to look at such a being of grace and beauty.  Still, Adeon just wished he could do more than struggle through the collective works of Shakespeare. It wasn’t until he stumbled and fell into a particularly deep snow drift that an idea suddenly came to mind.

“You’re going to have to tell him, and soon too. Else the mon’keigh is just going to be resentful of you even longer. Except, the moment you reveal *what* you are, you know full well what he might do. Are you really prepared to deal with that?” T’riss’ inner monologue was interrupted then by a snowball impacting the window. Blinking with confusion, almost wondering if she had imagined it, another scattered across the glass pane before she was able to discern the source. Down below, Adeon was beckoning, as if for her to join him outside. She returned these motions by tilting her head to the right, which seemed to be enough for him. 

As Adeon wandered off to the nearby apple tree, T’riss sighed, pushing away from her spot near the window and looking about her room. Adeon had brought her a trunk of clothing to use back when she was still healing, of which now rested at the foot of her bed. Most of it fit surprisingly well, given a few modifications to the inseam. Even so, she had never been outside the house since her arrival. Her host had told her that the nearest human was some 140 kilometers away, but that did little to overcome her fear of being killed for being what the mon’keighs called “a xenos.” Plus, the sunlight was rather harsh on her pale skin, even indoors.  Still, as she slowly rummaged through the trunk, it couldn't hurt to see what Adeon wanted. It was better than staying here, confused and alone, even if he did try her patience at times.

It wasn't until the wet powder began sliding down his neckline that Adeon realized that T’riss had joined him. Turning, ready with a snowball of his own, he looked about, finding no trace of her. As he raised an eyebrow, another projectile hit him square in the face, catching him off-guard and knocking him onto his back. Before he even had the chance to get up, T’riss was standing over him, offering out a gloved hand and a smile. 

Time seemed to freeze as the pair stared at one another, the snowfall whirling about them silently. Anyone looking at the scene would first only notice Adeon, in his brown furs, lying on his back. Only when staring very carefully would anyone even be able to notice T’riss. Between her white furs, pale skin, silver hair, and the powder blowing about, she blended in like a natural arctic predator. The moment passed as Adeon took the outstretched hand, T’riss pulling him upright and brushing him off. “Sorry,” she said, “but you are dealing with a warrior here. You have to be more aware if you challenge her to a duel.” Following this up with a wink, she stepped back, motioning at the area around them before clasping her hands behind her back. “So, what did you really want?”

“Well..I uh…” Adeon began to say, falling over his words, “you look…nice ma’am. I mean T’riss.” The returned head tilt and raised eyebrow sent his eyes casting about frantically. He hadn’t actually expected her to join him outside, as she seemed content to remain inside, reading. Yet, here she was, and he was without any sort of plan. Well, that was a half-truth. He did have one, but it was rather childish. “I…thought you might be likin’ to help me build a snowmarine.” The eyebrow exaggerated, her eyes narrowing slightly, “A…snow…what?” “Ya know, a Snowmarine! Here, help me roll this.”

Dropping to one knee, Adeon quickly began the makings of the base portion. Rolling the growing snowball through a particularly deep pocket of the powder, T’riss remained as she was while Adeon exerted himself. By the time it was big enough to reach his knees, Adeon was unable to roll it any further, taking no time to begin the middle section. “Come on now, ain’t as fun doin’ it alone. We’re gunna need ‘nother one about half the size of that one.” T’riss rolled her eyes, *this* was what he had called her out for? To pointlessly roll ice crystals into bigger clumps? Still, the earlier door slam was still fresh in her mind, and soon she found herself working alongside Adeon. 

The end result certainly wasn’t going to be entered into the art archives of Commorragh, but it did have a certain appeal to T’riss. As she stood back, watching Adeon add the finer details using twigs and bits of rock, she couldn’t help but beam. Here was a tangible monument to her efforts to be better than her old self. None of her kin would dare stand such a pointless exertion, let alone with a mon’keigh.  Plus, it felt good to take direction for once, even though doing so annoyed her slightly on some subconscious level. 

In any case, Adeon finished by drawing the Aquila in the middle portion of the sculpture, stepping back to admire their work himself. “Mighty fine, if I don’t say so myself. He’s got a bit of a gout though.” He laughed, and soon T’riss found herself joining in, “Yes, he does look rather… shapely, doesn’t he?” The two turned to look at each other, their eyes locking for only a moment. T’riss was the first to break the stare, turning away to face the house. “Thanks. For…cheering me up.” She left him standing near the apple tree without another word, both grinning from ear to ear. 

In the days that followed, the snowmarine soon found himself surrounded by his chapter. At first, T’riss snuck out while Adeon was on his morning rounds, but this was quickly thwarted. After walking out of view from her window on the third day, he doubled back to hide behind the apple tree.  Sure enough, not moments later T’riss came bounding outside with a speed that defied logic. Just as she leaned down to begin assembling another snowmarine, Adeon coughed, causing her to leap into the air with a yelp. Landing in a combat stance, eyes frantically looking about for the source, it was Adeon’s turn to laugh as he poked his head out from behind the tree. Scarlet infused T’riss’ face as she glanced awkwardly between him and the ground. Before she knew it, Adeon was nearby, delaying his rounds to help her roll up more snow.

Something about the mindless task put T’riss’ mind at ease, and the physical exertion certainly helped to augment her daily exercises. As she put the final touches on one particularly fierce-looking Astartes, she paused. Why was she making mon’keigh sculptures? It seemed rather foolish now that the thought had occurred to her, and she deftly knocked her work down to begin anew. “Uh… you alright there, T’riss?” Adeon called, looking over with a mixture of worry and confusion. To his surprise, her limbs became a blur of movement, and before her came to stand a rather slim individual. Moments later, T’riss added pointed ears. Standing back, she nodded approvingly at her snoweldar, then wandered back inside, humming. Adeon ended up being distracted for the rest of the day, the sound of her song mixing with the image of her “snowsaint” in his mind’s eye.

That evening, after dinner, T’riss found herself being led to the living room window by an insistent Adeon. Pointing towards the Snow Chapter, he motioned at a new addition: a smaller, normal-sized human standing next to her snoweldar. Rather than wait for her response, Adeon left T’riss by the window, rummaging through the cabinet on the opposite side of the fireplace. She took little note of this, a sort of pain building up in her chest as she gazed at the pair of sculptures. She had to tell him, tonight, before it would be too late and she began believing her own lie.

As she opened her mouth to speak, a strange sound began to permeate the air. Spinning on her heels, trying to locate the source, T’riss’ eyes came to rest on an odd device. The needle arm was scratching against a rotating disc, producing what must have passed for human music. Though she didn’t understand what chestnuts were,  or why they were roasting on a fire, it was mildly soothing. Adeon was nowhere to be seen, but she took the blanket on the couch and the crackling fire for what it was. Minutes passed, the sizzles and pops of the flames adding to the occasional ones omitted by the record player. All the while, T’riss huddled beneath the blanket, the warmth rather welcome. Weariness began to press against the edges of her eyes, and she probably would have fallen asleep right there if Adeon hadn’t returned right then.

Taking a seat on the couch on the opposite side of T’riss, Adeon offered out a mug of a brownish liquid. “Hot Coco, just like Ma’ used to make.” A sip later, and T’riss found herself enamored with the sweet concoction. “I…this is good, for a mon’keigh,” she whispered between tastes, which was met by a laugh from Adeon. “I’m mighty glad you think so ma’am. I mean T’riss. Sorry. I don’t reckon I’ll ever get that right, your saintliness.” “It’s fine, really. I just wanted you to actually use my name, rather than some title or honorific. I’m…nothing special.” 

It was Adeon’s turn to raise an eyebrow and tilt his head, as T’riss stared down at her mug glumly. “But, ya are! Really! Even if you’re a saint, only my Ma’ and Pa’ were as nice to me as you are.” T’riss face was ruined by a grimace, one which was met with a frown on Adeon’s as she replied. “What…What if I wasn’t a saint?” Silence, followed by a simple, “But, if ya aren’t a saint, then what are ya?” Tears began to well at the corners of T’riss’ eyes. This was it, the end of her peaceful stay on this idyllic world. But it had to be done. She couldn’t let the guilt of the lie burden her further, on top of the added symptoms brought by her lack of feeding. “Do you know what…an Eldar is?” 

“Can’t say I do.” “Well…” she bit her lips, steeling herself, “…they’re what you mon’keighs call xenos.” Adeon sputtered, nearly choking on the coca as he came to stare at her with wide eyes. She didn’t strike him as one of those bogeywomen that came to steal children away at night, like in his mother’s stories. His silence, though not intentional, caused T’riss to begin to cry profusely. “I’m…Please don’t be mad with me. I wanted to tell you earlier…but then you were so nice to me and I didn’t want you to hate me after all you did…” Tears cascaded down her face, the pain in her chest overwhelming that in her head. Why did she had to have a heart? Why couldn’t she just be a heartless monster like the rest of her race? 

A pat on the head interrupted her sobs. Eyes widened in fear and surprise, T’riss came to regard him smiling back. “S’all right. Easy now. I don’t mind much what ya are, so long as you’re T’riss.” Words, if you could call them that, sputtered out of her mouth as she tried to reply, but failed as her tear ducts kicked into overdrive. Adeon simply took a few sips of his cocoa and waited, knowing that what she needed now was time, not his badgering. That was when he found T’riss suddenly  beside him proper, crying into his chest. Doing his best to offer comforting words, he readjusted the blanket about them and stared into the fire. Monsters certainly didn’t cry, and, as far as he cared, it didn’t matter even if she was one.