Meant to do Arriane's pov, but this came out instead. Apologies.
Still really angry at the last book. Okay.
(standard disclaimer applies)

Name: La Memoire Sale
Rating: T
Number: X

"Do you need help?" He asked as she began unhooking the plates on her shoulders.

Arriane shook her head. "I do this every night on my own."

He nodded. Of course she did. But plate armor was neither easy to don nor remove—he had stripped himself of it only a moment before, and even after centuries of wearing similar suits, it still held difficulty.

She was swifter than him, starting on her gauntlets and making her way up her arms and torso.

The night was cool, warm for the season, but still relatively frigid. There was a fire burning beneath a mantle and their clothing had kept them heated, but as he stood in only a pair of thick britches and long socks, he couldn't help but feel the bite. It wasn't that it was bothering as much as it irritated.

Arriane didn't make any comment on it though. She hadn't been too talkative since they'd run into one another, but the answer behind that seemed reasonable enough. After all, he'd seen the gaping wound on her neck, only now covered now by a thick mane of hair.

It was one thing to see it later on, when it had scarred. He didn't remember when they met next in her timeline, but he was sure he had never seen it like this. And when he'd asked about it then, she hadn't said much more than she had right now.

Love, she'd said, which only meant one person could be responsible. It had always been hard to say she was in love with Roland. She never was. And she never wasn't. There were varying degrees, but whatever the majority, every moment was a combination of the two.

It had never been easy to say she was in love with Tess.

Being with Tess was dangerous, she was fiery, and she understood Arriane in a way he never could. Tess was never a replacement for Roland, and so, he was fine with her.

On occasion—jealous, certainly. But before all else Arriane was his friend and he would do whatever he could to protect her. If that meant supporting her sporadic trysts with an enemy, then he would do so.

Whatever had happened this time, whatever Arriane was hiding, and whatever had struck her had to do with Tess. He'd always known it. But it was one thing to know something after viewing a scar and quite another to assume something while staring at an unhealed laceration.

"Arr," he tried, moving to stand behind her, "let me clean it."

"I'm fine," she said shortly.

"It'll close faster if it's clean."

"I said I was fine." She spat back, head whirring around to glare at him. He countered, and they battled in silence for a few moments before she begrudgingly relented and held up her arms.

Roland exhaled slowly, glad. It wasn't often that she gave into him. He closed the few steps that separated them and grabbed the chainmail around her torso gently, attempting to take it off without hitting her neck.

It took a few tries, but eventually he was only able to strip her of the all her armor with only little damage to her wound. Her arms stayed up, and though she didn't reply to his raised eye brows, she didn't put up any resistance when he began lifting the long shirt above her head and then removing the bindings around her chest. Her breasts weren't large and easily hidden beneath the armor, and he was surprised to see she was wearing binding. It wasn't something he'd seen on women for centuries.

It was vaguely exciting.

"You never liked her." Arriane said softly as he peeled away the bindings.

Roland, who was kneeling, glanced up.

"You are glad that she's dead." Arriane continued bluntly.

He stared at her for a moment before exhaling and dropping the cloth is his hands to the floor and looking down to untie her shoes. "It is not in my interest to see you hurt." He said.

Arriane placed a hand on his shoulder for balance. "I would gladly take any punishment if she were to live."

"I don't mean physically."

Arriane straightened and he looked back up. There was a pause as she considered the words. "That's surprising, considering you do more than enough emotional damage to me."

Again, at this, he sighed and began untying her britches. Her lower abdomen was warm where his fingers brushed as he worked away at the ties. Neither of them spoke.

She was right. He hadn't like Tess. He was glad she was killed, if only so she would stop causing Arriane any more confusion.

Loving one demon was enough. Tess was asking for trouble.

Right now, Roland was also asking for trouble. He always was, always had been. But that was different. Tess was a whim. A dangerous girl that could take Arriane for a ride whenever she felt like it. Roland, on the other hand, was more conscious of the danger. He never got to close too Arriane. Nor she to him.

Tess had never thought out the risks. She'd made Arriane vulnerable.

He was glad she was dead.

"Why are you here?" Arriane asked after he had finished undressing her and she sat naked at the edge of the bed, her hair tied up.

"The festival."

"I thought you were in the East."

The Roland on her timeline was—somewhere in North Eurasia. He didn't remember the exact place. He had ended up staying there for only a decade.

"I was."

"Your hair looks stupid."

He fingered a dread, coming to sit behind her, one leg hanging off the bed and bucket of warmed water sitting precariously over the covers. He dipped his kerchief into the bucket before placing it on her wound and rubbing out the dirt. "It's the style there."

"Hn."

He hid a grin and continued laving her wound. It was beginning to bleed again, but on the whole, looked much cleaner than it had before.

"Were you here to see Rosalie?"

Roland's previously inclined head shot up. He didn't remember telling her about Rosalie—not for another few centuries, at least.

"Daniel told me." She explained. "Said you were in love with a court girl."

"I'm not here for her." He answered in a tone that was meant to end the conversation.

"You should have married her."

"What good would that do?" He began washing her shoulders. And then, in afterthought added, "you're here."

Arriane shrugged, knowing what he meant. She gave a flinch as he brushed the cloth over her wound again.

They didn't speak anymore after that.

a/n: still taking requests

tbc