Mother of Midnight

Chapter 211 – Dead Weight

“That was terrifying. Please tell me we do not have to do that again,” Jayce huffed, her breath still quick as she dismounted from Vivienne’s massive wolf form. Her legs wobbled beneath her, unused to the rough ride. The shifting fur, the jarring movements—it had all been a little too much for her.

Kivvy, now sitting cross-legged on a nearby rock, couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her goblin sister trying to catch her breath. “We’re still in the Sovereignty, Jayce. Unless you want to run the whole way on your stubby legs?” she teased, her voice light and filled with amusement.

Jayce, looking up with a sour expression, shot her a glare. “My legs aren’t stubby.”

Kivvy raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “What was that?” she asked sweetly.

Jayce opened her mouth to protest, but instead, her face twisted in a resigned sigh. “You heard me, you green bitch,” she muttered, eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms.

Kivvy chuckled, a deep sound that reverberated in the cool evening air. She liked Jayce. Sure, she was grumbling and stiff from the ride, but it was nice to see someone in the group not afraid to speak their mind, even after being bounced around on Vivienne’s back like a sack of grain. Not to mention, Kivvy liked to think of herself as a bit of a kindred spirit to Jayce. She, too, had broken away from the Sovereignty's iron grip, and she could see in Jayce a similar spark.

“You’re a stubborn one,” Kivvy said with a grin, watching Jayce stand awkwardly, rubbing her sore thighs.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I had a choice, did I?” Jayce grumbled, but there was a glint in her eyes that made Kivvy smile. “You could’ve warned me that her damn wolf form moves like a stampede of quocha.”

Kivvy shrugged, casually reaching into her pack and pulling out the flint stone she’d gotten from Caelum earlier.

Jayce sighed dramatically, sinking to the ground beside Kivvy with a groan, trying to stretch out her legs. “That’s one hell of a way to travel, though. We could have gone slower.”

“And ruin the fun?” Kivvy replied with a wink, taking a flint and striking it against her steel, sending sparks flying into the dry twigs she’d gathered earlier. “Nah we need to get away from those bastards as soon as possible.”

Jayce looked at her, half amused and half exasperated. “You’re crazy.”

Kivvy grinned, the fire catching and crackling to life in front of them. “And don’t you forget it.”

The fire flickered and danced in the morning light, its warmth barely enough to chase away the deep Sovereignty chill. The goblins sat clustered close, soaking in the heat as best they could, huddled together beneath ragged cloaks and whatever scraps of fabric they’d scrounged up along the way. The scent of charred wood and burning fat mingled in the crisp night air, carried on the soft, biting wind.

Kivvy glanced up from where she sat, legs stretched toward the fire, and let her gaze drift to Vivienne. She had shifted back into her humanoid form now, her massive frame hunched slightly against the trunk of a snow-dusted tree. Her gaze drifted toward Vivienne.

She looked… wrong.

Not monstrous, not terrifying, but wrong.

Vivienne had torn through half a city without a second thought, yet now she sat there, hunched against a tree, cradling Liora in her arms like she was afraid the girl would vanish. The sharp edges of her face, her horns, her claws—none of it made her seem as dangerous as that look in her eyes.

Desperate.

Hopeful.

She nudged Liora again, careful despite the wicked curve of her claws. The girl didn’t stir. Didn’t so much as twitch.

Poor runt. Kivvy didn’t know what Liora had gone through in that place, but whatever it was, it had hollowed her out.  Liora lay curled in her arms, so small against Vivienne’s chest that it was almost hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The girl barely moved, her breathing shallow, her expression distant. Kivvy hadn’t heard so much as a squeak from her since they’d left that place.

Behind them, the goblins had finally started talking again. At first, it was just murmurs, nervous whispers like they were afraid someone would snap at them for it, but before long, the complaints started. Soft at first, then louder.

Kivvy smiled. That was good. Complaining meant they were still alive. Bitching meant they hadn’t given up.

Then Vivienne stood.

The goblins flinched, some shrinking back out of sheer instinct. Kivvy didn’t blame them. Even like this, even smaller, Vivienne was still something else. A thing made for tearing, for destruction. And right now, she was looking at them like a decision had already been made.

“I want a volunteer,” she said, voice cold. “Pick one amongst yourselves.”

Kivvy felt the chill in her spine before she even registered the words. She missed the Vivienne who teased, who liked scaring people just for the hell of it. This wasn’t that Vivienne.

This wasn’t for fun.

“Why?” Kivvy asked.

“I want to feed Liora. Two or three volunteers would be best.”

A heavy silence settled over them, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire.

“A-are those chosen g-going to die?” Ortasia asked, voice shaking.

Vivienne turned her gaze on her, black eyes flat, unreadable. “No.”

Kivvy sighed and ran a hand through her tangled hair. “What she means to say is that you’ll be exhausted for the next day. You’ll probably wake up next time we set up camp.” She gave a half-shrug. “It’s a lot less bloody than how Vivienne eats.”

“I’ll volunteer.” Caelum pushed away from the tree he had been leaning against.

Vivienne didn’t hesitate. “No. You are needed in best condition. The goblins are dead weight. If I am going to save them, the least they can do is sacrifice a day.”

Kivvy was on her feet before she could think better of it.

"Dead weight?" Her voice came sharp and cutting, loud enough to make some of the goblins flinch. "Oh, I'm sorry, Your Fucking Majesty, I didn’t realize we needed to prove our worth to you. Should we have done a little song and dance first? Maybe hauled you a cart of gold while we were at it?"

Vivienne turned her gaze on her, impassive as ever, but Kivvy felt the weight of it, the pressure behind those five eyes. She didn’t care. Let her stare. Let her get angry.

"We’ve been fighting for our lives the same as you," Kivvy spat. "Hell, we were all riding you a few hours ago, or did you already forget that? If we were so worthless, you should've just left us behind!"

A few of the goblins stirred at that, not quite brave enough to speak up but bold enough to nod, to shift closer to Kivvy. She felt her gut twist. They weren’t dead weight. They were survivors. Fighters.

Vivienne sighed, rolling her shoulders, and for a second, Kivvy thought she might actually apologize. Then she met Kivvy’s glare head-on and said, "You’re right. I could have left you behind."

Kivvy’s teeth clicked together, her fists clenched.

Vivienne turned her attention back to the goblins. "Pick two. Now."

The air felt heavy, thick with the weight of the moment. The goblins hesitated, looking between each other, shifting uncomfortably.

Kivvy bared her teeth. "Oh, fuck you, Vivienne."

A few of the goblins gasped, some ducking their heads like she’d just cursed a god. Maybe she had. But she didn’t care.

"You could have left us behind? That’s what you’re going with? Not a sorry, not a that was out of line, just I could have let you all die?" Kivvy scoffed, crossing her arms tight over her chest. "Well, thanks ever so much for your generosity, Your Scaly Fucking Highness."

Vivienne’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. "Pick two."

"Oh, bite me," Kivvy snarled. "You think you get to decide who’s worth keeping around? Who gets to rest and who gets bled dry? You want two of us? Fine. Let’s get two of you

too. How about you get drained, huh?" She jabbed a clawed finger toward Vivienne’s chest, then swung it toward Caelum. "Or him? Why the fuck do we have to be the ones who suffer for you?"Vivienne tilted her head, slow and measured. "Because you’re weak."

"Say that again," Kivvy snarled, looking up into those five, empty black eyes. "Say it."

Kivvy’s nails bit into her palms, her muscles coiled tight, but she didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Not with Liora nestled in Vivienne’s arms, limp and unresponsive.

That was the only reason she wasn’t in Vivienne’s face right now, screaming, tearing, fighting. The only reason she hadn’t thrown every bit of rage boiling inside her at the woman who had just dismissed them all like they were nothing.

Instead, she sucked in a sharp breath and jabbed a clawed finger at her. "Weak? We’re weak?" Her voice dripped with venom. She scoffed, shaking her head. "You think because we’re not freaks of nature, because we weren’t born strong, that we deserve to be used up and tossed aside? That we don’t matter?"

Vivienne didn’t so much as blink. She didn’t need to. The silence said everything.

Kivvy’s jaw tightened, her teeth grinding together. "Fine," she spat. "Then why are we here? If we’re nothing but dead weight, if we’re so useless, why the hell did you bring us? Because it sure as fuck wasn’t out of the kindness of your heart."

Instead, Vivienne just looked at her. No malice. No fire. Just the weight of a desperate mother.

The morning sun carved harsh lines across her face, deepening the exhaustion in her expression. Her five black eyes, so often filled with amusement or cruel delight, were dull. Empty. Not with apathy, but with something worse—something heavy enough to drag the entire world down with it.

"I've already lost one family," she said, her voice quieter than Kivvy had ever heard it. Not soft. Not pleading. Just... raw. "And it is happening again."

She exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking her head. "Of the only four people I care about in this world, one is dead. One seems to have left her body." Her arms shifted, holding Liora just a little closer, nudging her again with that same futile hope. The girl didn’t stir. Didn’t even twitch.

"I saved you, Kivvy," Vivienne continued, gaze locking onto her with the same weight that made her words feel so suffocating. "Because you are one of the few people I give a gods damned shit about in this festering pit of a world. I saved the other goblins because I thought that would make you happy—despite the fact that it would slow us down."

Her jaw clenched, the sharp points of her black teeth peeking through. "Rava is dead. My daughter isn’t responding to a damned thing! Praxus has a champion that feels custom made to fight me, and we have an army on our heels in enemy territory. Also, I am employed by a goddess who probably couldn’t give two coppers whether I live or die." Her breathing was heavier now, fingers twitching at her sides, as if she were holding herself back from tearing into something—anything.

"I just..." She sucked in a breath, tilting her head up to the sky like she was searching for some answer that would never come. Then, on the exhale, the words left her like a slow bleed. "Fuck.

I just want to help my daughter while trying not to fucking lose it and wipe all life from this shithole of a world."She wasn’t ranting. She wasn’t throwing a tantrum.

She was just telling Kivvy the truth.

Kivvy had no words.

She had been ready for a fight. Had been ready to claw and snarl and snap back at whatever Vivienne threw her way. But this? How the hell was she supposed to fight this?

Vivienne wasn’t mocking her. Wasn’t throwing her strength around like a club. Wasn’t even dismissing her like she usually did when she got irritated.

She was tired.

And not just in the way Kivvy was used to seeing. This wasn’t the exhaustion of battle, or of carrying the weight of too many people on her shoulders. It was something deeper. Something bone-deep and hollowing, like she was teetering on the edge of an abyss with nothing left to stop her from falling in.

Kivvy swallowed hard.

“Well," she muttered, crossing her arms. "That was a fucking bummer.”

Vivienne let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking her head.

The rest of the goblins were silent, their usual squabbling and complaints gone. Even the ones that usually cracked jokes when they got nervous kept their mouths shut. They weren’t used to seeing Vivienne like this either.

Kivvy sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. Shit. She wasn’t built for this kind of thing. Emotional messes weren’t her problem—they couldn’t be. But if she let this slide, if she let Vivienne stew in whatever black hole she was slipping into, they were all fucked.

She lowered her hand and took a slow step forward. “Okay. Fine. You want to help your kid? You want to keep yourself from cracking? Then let us help you. That’s how this works, Viv. You don’t get to carry the weight of the world alone and act like it’s a personal fucking burden.”

Vivienne’s gaze flicked back to her, unreadable.

Kivvy gestured to the goblins. "We all owe you, sure. We get that. But this? This shit where you act like we’re just here to be a liability you’re dragging around? I don’t get that. You think we’re dead weight?" She jabbed a thumb at her chest. "Then fine, let me be dead weight. I’ll be one of the ones to help feed Liora. So will the others." She turned back to the group. "Right?"

There was a moment of hesitation—of shifting glances and wary looks—but one by one, the goblins straightened.

“…Right,” Ortasia said, swallowing hard.

Another stepped forward, then another.

Kivvy turned back to Vivienne with a pointed stare. "There. Volunteers. Now quit acting like you’re alone in this."

Vivienne’s dark eyes lingered on Kivvy for a beat longer, a quiet intensity in her gaze. For a moment, the weight of all the unsaid things in the air pressed down on them, but Vivienne seemed to choose not to speak them aloud. Instead, she simply exhaled a slow, tired breath. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Kivvy raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “Not gonna apologise?”

Vivienne’s head tilted slightly to the side, her expression hard to read. She looked almost… puzzled, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to her until now. “I could apologise to you, but I don’t care for anyone here but you, Renzia and Liora. So for what it’s worth,” she paused, her mouth pulling into a thin line, “I am sorry for my harsh wording.”

Kivvy blinked at her, taken aback by the bluntness of Vivienne’s words. A small, dry chuckle escaped her. "Good as I’m going to get," she muttered under her breath. She looked away for a moment, feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to ease. It wasn’t an apology, not the kind she might have expected or wanted—but it was as real as Vivienne ever got.

"I’m still pissed," Kivvy said after a pause, her voice softening. "But I hate seeing the little runt like that too."