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Molaki awoke with a shudder, blinking while he was trying to reorient himself in the pitch black.
Shit. He had fallen asleep. He hadn't been watching the door. Luckily, he was able to feel the weight of Asta on his chest, still curled asleep. He was relieved she was really resting. He knew nothing of the potions that she would be put under to be interrogated, but nobody was ever at their best in the state she had been in.
The windowless room had completely disoriented him - he had no idea how long he had slept, or what time it was. He wished he could call out to the guard that was inevitably on the other side of the door, but he didn't want to wake the girl. He felt his only option was to sit stone still, hoping not to stir her.
Molaki again, had no idea how long he sat there, staring at the ceiling. It could have been an hour, or it could have been several, but all he knew now was that he wished he had taken Asta's offer on the water pitcher. He was parched, and weary, and admitted to himself that he wished for his bed, or even a cave. He let himself drift into the daydream - or nightdream - either way, he was awake - of bringing Asta to his home. He would let her relax in his bath, dress in fresh linens, and curl up in his clean bed.
Well. He was a bachelor, he reminded himself. Freshly single, so his house hadn't gone completely to rot, but he hadn't had company in a while. Shit. He needed to clean. He needed to change his bedsheets. The deer didn't like fur. He... would need to change everything. Ask permission to use many more grains this year so she could eat.
He was getting ahead of himself, his thoughts rambling while time and space ceased to exist in confinement. He was assuming she would stay, he reminded himself. Would she? She had a life before this. But she had to, right? He was assuming the Tri wouldn't claim she was a traitor, and slaughter her. They couldn't. But what if she was an Okolt mole?
His freight train of thought was mercifully cut short, when he heard the iron door's locks starting to be rattled from the outside. Softly, he shook Asta on the shoulder, who woke with a jolt and bolted straight upright. He could feel the hairs on her arms bristle as the blankets were thrown off.
"Shh, Asta, it's okay, you're okay, don't shift," Molaki whispered through gritted teeth.
Like when he had woken, it took her a moment to realize where she was. For the calm of slumber to let go and allow all the dreadful and stressful events rush back in.
When the door creaked open, Molaki let out a low, protective growl, but they were met with a lantern, and the welcome sight of his mother, and -
"Prim?"
Molaki's older sister pushed past her mother, her ears flat to her head, holding her arms out to embrace the white wolf, who towered over her even though she was three years his senior.
"You're an idiot" she heckled him as she buried her head into his shoulder, before pulling back and looking at Asta cowering in the back of the cell, her green hair having come out of her bun and falling over her face.
"A catch, for sure," Prim sang, still teasing, but not at all as uncomfortable as even their mother was when she first met the doe.
Molaki growled again, but knew his sister wasn't being serious; she never was. "What the hell time is it?" he asked, shuffling backwards to hold onto Asta and reassure her.
"It's 3am," Hera answered, setting the lantern down as she closed the door just enough that the entrance was obscured, but leaving a foot or two of space so more light could come in.
"Darling, is that better? We don't mean to crowd you."
It took Asta a second to realize that Hera was asking her directly, realizing she was starting to feel cornered and trapped.
Asta nodded, but was still sniffing and sizing up the new wolf, though Molaki seemed to have his guard down with her entirely.
Molaki hurriedly explained that the new woman was his sister, which tracked as they did look similar to Asta, though it may have been just the shock of white hair that they both had. After hushed questioning to make sure her brother was okay, and retrieving another pitcher of water for the couple, Hera again turned her attention towards Asta, more pointed this time.
"We found an elder to make the truth tonic," she explained. "It's just about ready, which is why we were told to come and wake you up. There's just one more ingredient, we need... a small vile of your blood."
"What?" Asta wrung her hands, but as her mother spoke, Prim took out a small pocketknife and an even smaller glass bottle out of her robes.
"It's the last ingredient," Hera explained plainly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. But we just need the blood of the person that will be tested for truth, or it doesn't work."
Molaki groaned, but after a moment to compose herself, Asta stretched out her arm, with her palm open.
"Fine. If they'll let me out of here when this is over, fine. It's the only way, isn't it?"
"I'll be fighting for you to get out of here, yes," Hera answered firmly, taking the knife from her daughter.
It was a quick process, Asta sucking in a small breath and hissing when the blade broke her skin, but in seconds, it was done, Hera taking the vile away down the hall while Prim wrapped the doe's hand in gauze.
"Do you two need more time?" she asked while she stood up. "If you're ready, they're all waiting for you back in the Tri Chambers. It's time to settle this."