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‘Huh?’ Beau regrets, well, herself when she sees the way the loud word makes Jester grimace. ‘Uh. Sorry. What was that? I was working on my carpentry.’
She holds up this tiny figurine of wood.
‘A dolphin?’
Beau closes her hand around the figurine. ‘…Yes.’
‘So good.’
‘Thanks.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be a dolphin.’
‘No.’
Jester grins. ‘Sorry. It’s really - um - an attempt.’
'Really? You're not even gonna say a good attempt?' Beau laughs, rolls her eyes. Shoves the figurine into one of her pockets, her knife into its sheath, and turns on the barrel she’s seated upon so that she’s facing Jester head on. ‘So?’
‘Hmm?’ Jester pulls at her necklace, twists the chain between her fingers.
‘You said something?’ Beau prompts. She looks hawkish, seated as she is. Shoulders hunched, piercing eyes fixed unmoving on Jester. ‘I’m listening now, I promise.’
It occurs to her that that might be the problem; that Jester doesn’t want to repeat herself to someone who is listening. But before she can offer an apology, a reassurance, Jester blurts out,
‘I won’t let anything bad happen to you.’ Her eyes flick above them, to the top deck of the Balleater. ‘I know—I know everyone is worried about it, and I know you don’t know a lot about him,’ she says, the Him holy on her tongue, and Beau can’t confuse that with anyone but the Traveller. ‘But I don’t think that this is a cult thing and really I was the one that suggested the volcano so I don’t think he’s going to ask us all to jump in and,’
‘I’d jump.’
‘What?’
‘If you asked.’ Beau’s eyes haven’t moved from her. Jester can’t find the smallest bit of hesitation in them, the smallest hint of teasing or mischief or a lie. ‘If you asked me to trust you. And him,’ she tacks on. ‘I’d jump into a volcano.’ Beau shrugs. ‘Could be fun.’
‘That kills people, Beau.’
‘Allegedly.’ She grins a crooked grin when Jester stomps her foot. Lets her heart flutter at the way Jester’s curls swing at the angry motion. She’s stopped denying this thing she feels, stopped forcing it in any direction, just letting it be. So far, that has only served to have it expand, and grow, and deepen and Beau would be lying if she said it didn’t frighten her but. She’s lied about less. ‘If he wants you to jump into the volcano alone, though, I’ll kill him first.’
‘Well that doesn’t make any sense, Beau, either you trust him or you don’t.’
‘Then I don’t. Not really.’ She laughs when Jester starts to tell her off and, ignoring her assertments on how cool and really very trustworthy the Traveller is, Beau slides off her barrel, closes the distance between them. She leans down so their eyes are level. Tries to smile but doesn’t quite manage it. Jester’s reprimand slows, then stops. She eyes Beau, confused. ‘I trust you, Jester. I follow who you follow, I go where you go. Remember?’
‘I—‘
‘I’ll jump into a volcano for you. Not him.’
Jester’s brows crinkle into a furrow as she tries to parse the words for their meaning; after a moment, her attention slipping from Beau’s eyes to her lips, she says, very quietly as though surprised,
‘Oh.’
‘Oh? What oh?’ Beau recoils. ‘What?’
Jester smiles. Like a lantern hood being raised to show off more and more of the fire within, her beaming smile grows and grows. ‘You know, I was trying to be very nice by saying I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.’
‘It was nice,’
‘And then you go and say something like that,’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You should be,’ Jester nods. ‘It was very sweet, Beau, and now I have to think of something even nicer to say! But also, I mean,’ she pulls a face, ‘I hope we don’t have to do that because yikes, am I right? But that is good. to. know.’ She taps her forefinger on Beau’s nose with each of those words, laughs at the way the other girl crosses her eyes to follow the movement. Scrunches up her nose. Jester takes a moment to memorise her like this—a little flustered, a little amused, a little, Jester realises, in love. With her. With Jester. She’ll have to draw her for the Traveller. There’s no way he’ll kill them all if he sees the way Beau is looking at her right now.
‘Beau.’
‘Mhm yeah,’ the girl replies. She’s fully flushed now, both from what she borderline admitted and also from Jester’s fixed attention. Her eyes flick down to Jester’s lips before, with visible effort, lifting to meet her eyes.
It’s every classic sign in every love book. The blushing. The eyes. The speech. Though the speeches usually are more along the lines of You’re so beautiful and precious to me than I’ll jump in a volcano for you. That’s very Beau, though, very them.
Jester steps forward. Lifts her hands to the side of Beau’s face. Her thumbs graze across cheekbones so sharp they could be weapons—have been, Jester has seen Beau headbutt people so hard they’ve died—and watches her eyes flutter closed in response.
‘Beau?’
‘Mm.’
‘What’s the figurine supposed to be?’
Beau snorts. Fumbles in her pocket for the little crappily carved figure. ‘It’s Kiri. I mean - it was supposed to be Kiri. I miss that little ball of feathers, and I was just, yknow,’
She’s not looking at Jester and she’s talking so it’s entirely the wrong moment but Jester surges forward anyway on the rush of adoration, of affection, and kisses her. For being sweet, and brave, and noble, and incredibly awkward, and Beau, Beau, Beau. It’s awkward, lips colliding with teeth and Beau’s grunt of surprise, but then Beau is recovered and tilts her head just so and the hand not holding the really genuinely awful carving is cradling Jester’s cheek so tenderly, swirling over the apple of her cheek and sliding back behind her ear, into the hair there, her fingers barely grazing her skin as though she’s not sure this is real, as though she’s not sure she’s allowed.
Jester drops down off her tiptoes, breaking the kiss. ‘I will keep you safe,’ she says again, so Beau knows she means it. ‘I’ll keep you safe, if it comes to that. And I promise to heal you.’
It sounds like a vow, like the one Beau had made. She wonders if it sounds like one to Beau as well, and is pretty sure it does, seeing the way Beau’s eyes light up. Her smile is small. A little shy, almost. Private, like something she wants to treasure, wants to keep all to herself.
Beau clears her throat. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
‘That’s cool.’
Jester kisses her again. Pulls back. Memorises that look as well.