Chapter Text
Scylla walked out of the room, inhaling deeply as her mind worked to process what she’d just been told.
How the Spree and Army were going to fight the Camarilla.
How Raelle was vital to the Accord.
How her and Raelle were vital to...everything.
Raelle.
Goddess, Raelle.
“Her name is Collar, and she wants to know why you’re making her girlfriend stand outside in the cold.”
“Can we dance? One song?” Raelle asked, voice so soft Scylla almost didn’t hear her. “Let me have one more song.”
She chuckled bitterly, “Right. Of course.” She stepped around Scylla, glaring at Anacostia, “We all like our secrets, don’t we.”
Muted music wafted in from the nearby ballroom, and Scylla knew Raelle was inside. Probably mingling with her fellow soldiers. Sipping on punch while talking with Tally and Abigail.
“You want to hear that you broke me, Scyl? That I’m no good for anyone else because I was stupid enough to give my heart to someone who never wanted it?”
Her head turned to look toward the room as she began to walk by. From this angle she could make out little groups of soldiers sipping from pewter cups and chatting. A flash of movement brought dancers into focus, spinning and twirling around to the beat the strings and drums sung out.
She should go.
She had already almost been caught once.
Her feet stopped.
It was dangerous being there. Any second someone could spot her, recognize her, question her, hand her over to Alder before any sort of Accord could formally be signed.
Throw her back in the basement, back in a cell, and this time never let her go.
Never let her be free.
Never let her see the girl she loved again.
Time was already passing by. She needed to go back to headquarters. Back to the safehouse and tell others, tell Willa, what the Army offered. What they were willing to agree to. What it would take for them to finally join forces and end the bloodshed.
She had to go.
“Can we dance? One song?” Raelle asked, voice so soft Scylla almost didn’t hear her. “Let me have one more song.”
She couldn’t go.
Not without one last chance.
One last glimpse.
One last moment.
Locking her jaw, she made her way toward the ballroom, careful to not let eyes land on her long enough to notice. Ducking into the room, she stood off to the side, eyes scanning the room as she hid from any curious glances.
Blue uniform after blue uniform filled her gaze.
She lifted up onto her toes, ankles protesting at the move. She tried to use the extra bit of height to see to the other end of the room.
The ballroom was large, yet every inch, it seemed, was filled with people. Couples dancing, groups mingling, individuals pouring themselves punch or threading through the chaos. A few older officers were easily visible, enjoying a night with their charges.
She thought for a moment she spotted Izadora.
She saw so many people. So many faces.
None of them Raelle’s.
Where was she?
She had to be there.
She wouldn’t have left.
Wouldn’t be gone.
“Bit far from the prison cells, isn’t it?”
Scylla froze.
When she found her voice, she snarked, “It was the Necro basement, actually.” Twisting her face into a look of mundane confidence, Scylla turned to face Abigail Bellweather.
Bellweather was dressed in her uniform, just like everyone else. Polished and stalwart, her boots were shiny enough one could probably be blinded by the reflection. Her brown eyes glared at her, mouth in an unimpressed frown, yet, in the glare, Scylla felt something...different. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint, but she had never felt from the blaster before.
“Enjoying our party?” Abigail asked, “Or was sneaking in not worth it?”
Scylla exhaled, “Should I run now, or are you giving me a five second head start?”
Abigail studied her, “You’re cocky for someone who could be arrested with a snap of my fingers.”
“When you snap, at least do it in time with the beat.”
The glare hardened, “I wouldn’t joke about that. From my understanding, you’ve already almost had the MPs called on you once.”
She had spoken to Raelle. Scylla’s jaw ticked and her brows flickered, “You’ve seen her.”
Abigail rolled her eyes, “Do I need to tell you to stay away from her, or does that go without saying?”
Scylla licked her lips, “Is she still here?” If she had to deal with Abigail Bellweather to see Raelle, she would do it. She would go through hell to see her.
“What’s your game, Ramshorn?”
A sarcastic comment jumped to the tip of her tongue, but Scylla swallowed it back down. Her shoulders slumped slightly. She was so tired of fighting. So tired of everyone telling her what to do and none of them saying she could see the girl she needed to see more than anything. “I just want to see her.”
“Thought you already did.”
Scylla pressed a hand to her forehead before letting it drop back to her side, “Do you want me to ask nicely? Beg? Grovel at a High Atlantic’s feet?”
Abigail stepped closer, “No,” her tone changed, “I want to know if my sister is about to get her heartbroken again.”
Scylla leaned back, the words like a punch to her gut.
Abigail stared into her eyes, not letting them go, “I had to live through Raelle losing you. I am not living through that again. I don’t know what’s going on. But, I love her, and you are not messing with her life again.”
“Bellweather,”
Abigail interrupted her, “Get your shit together. I can’t believe I have to say this, but you either are with her or you’re not. Either you’re all in, or you walk out that door before I kick your ass and then hand you over to Alder.”
Scylla swallowed thickly, the words heavy in the air. The confession came out soft yet sure, “I love her.”
Abigail nodded, “Ok.” She abruptly turned on her heel and began to walk away, “I can’t believe I’m doing this. The damn things I do for that shitbird.”
Scylla watched her take a few steps before Abigail turned her head, glare back in full effect and barrelling down on her, “Let’s go, Necro.”
With only a moment’s more hesitation Scylla followed her. They kept to the perimeter of the room, carefully walking until Scylla felt the air leave her lungs and her eyes widen.
There, near a small side table, Raelle stood, her back to them as she listened to Tally talk while a boy...Byron, if she thinks back to who Raelle once told her about...stood close by, soulful comforting eyes on his friend. The blonde was leaning heavily against the table, elbow and forearm splayed across the top while her hand cradled a drink. She looked as worn down as Scylla felt. Drained. Tired of the life other’s choices, their own choices, had thrust upon them.
On the precipice of despair.
But, in Scylla’s mind, in this very moment, they were on the verge of careful cautious hope.
Tally spotted them first, her eyes widening and shooting to Abigail questioningly. Finding whatever she needed in Abigail’s returned look, Tally smiled welcomingly at Scylla, “Hey, Scylla.” Byron’s eyebrows rose, “Scylla?”
Scylla watched Raelle tense, the muscles in her back rippling and locking beneath the uniform jacket, her neck and spine ramrod straight, before she tilted around to face them.
Scylla absently offered Tally a nod, her entire focus on Raelle as she cautiously approached. “Raelle.”
Raelle gulped silently, “What are you still doing here?”
Scylla stared into deep blue eyes, bright with confusion, wariness...and hope. Love. Smoothing her hands down her dress, Scylla offered a small smile, “You asked me for one more dance. We didn’t get to finish.” Her own eyes sparkled with everything in her heart, “What sort of date would I be if I didn’t get at least one whole song with you?”
The words hung in the air between them.
She could feel eyes staring at her. Feel the bustle of the room around them. Feel the energy of the young women and men.
She blocked it all out.
All she cared about was the woman in front of her. The woman who would always hold her heart. The only one she ever wanted to dance with.
Raelle stared at her, eyes searching before turning inward to the thoughts in her head and the feelings in her soul Scylla desperately wished she could hear. Could assuage. She used to be able to read Raelle with one glance. Know what she needed with barely a swipe of the hand or peek into her eyes.
She didn’t know what Raelle was thinking.
It hurt.
But it didn't hurt as much as thinking Raelle didn’t feel the same. Didn’t want this anymore. That their small moment was nothing more than chivalry and once lingering affection disguised as something else. A Fixer taking care of someone because she was a good person and cared more than she would ever say.
Or that Scylla had ruined them beyond repair. Broken herself and the woman she loved so thoroughly there was nothing left, the bitter shattered remains so cracked it was impossible to put them back together.
As the seconds ticked by, Scylla felt her hope turn to dread.
This was wrong.
She was wrong.
She should have left.
Taken her one moment and held on to it tightly, letting it be enough to power her through the rest of the War, the rest of her lonely nights and harsh days. Through the loss and pain and anger and grief.
She should move on.
The brush of a fingertip along the side of her hand had her eyes snapping down. She watched as deft fingers traced the edge of her palm before carefully taking it, hold gentle yet solid. Hesitant yet true.
She didn’t know she was holding her breath the entire time until she had to choke back a sob.
Without a word, she gave the hand a tender squeeze. It was real. So so real.
Biting her lip and forcing a confidence she didn’t have to reflect on her face, she tugged Raelle to the dance floor. They weaved through the couples before finding a spot near the middle. As she turned to face Raelle, the blonde’s hand reached up, achingly guiding them into position. Scylla’s hand automatically went to her shoulder, hanging on to the stripes as a strong palm cupped her hip, slowly sliding around to rest against her back. Their joined hands lifted, entwined in an unbreakable tangle of fingers and dreams.
For a moment they stood there, neither moving.
Scylla felt the timidness, the fear, the uncertainty like a dagger to her heart. Where once they flowed seamlessly together, able to know what the other wanted, felt, without even a word, lives and bodies synced so completely sometimes it felt like they were a single whole instead of a separate two, there was now this. Two broken halves unable to fit back together without a thought, without a word. The jagged edges not lining up like they once did. No slotting together with ease. Unable to trust themselves. Unable to trust their partner.
Not able to be just Raelle and Scylla.
Not able to be them .
But, then the band began a slow heartfelt melody.
Notes that stirred something inside all who heard it.
Raelle shifted her feet, taking a small step as her hips swayed.
Scylla followed.
Gradually they began to move. Together.
The music washed over them, a lilting tune that flew them far away from Fort Salem, transported them to a world all their own.
A world where they were them .
Raelle pressed closer to Scylla, and the brunette felt everything drop away. The woodsy scent and feel of her body took over every sense she had, and she found herself nuzzling into the side of her neck, finding the spot in her arms that made her feel like, no matter what happened, she was safe. She was home.
The beat picked up, and the dancers around them skipped and spun gleefully.
The couple didn’t notice.
Scylla huddled further into the embrace, the slow sway lulling her into peacefulness. She pressed her lips together hard when a pair of lips ever so lightly slipped against her hair. Her grip on Raelle’s shoulder tightened before creeping over to the back of her neck, fingertips caressing the spot she knew would always calm her lover, letting her know it was ok. They were ok.
At the touch, Raelle dipped deeper into her, shaky breaths puffing against Scylla’s ear. Their entangled hands slowly slid down, slipping between their bodies and pressing against their beating hearts, the joined rhythm thumping in tune within their chests.
Scylla felt like she could cry. Like she would never stop smiling. Like she was back on the beach with her parents the last time she ever truly felt safe. Like she was staring into bright troubled blue eyes for the first time, the roar of tornadoes mimicking the pounding of her heart. Like she could run away and Raelle would be at her side. Like there was nothing to run from.
“I love you.” fell from her lips before she even realized she made a sound.
A quiet gasp drew against her ear, and her partner stumbled a step.
Scylla squeezed her eyes shut.
Her last dance, her last moment, and she ruined it. Took a chance without meaning to and lost her.
She prepared herself to watch Raelle pull back. Leave her there. Walk away.
She prepared herself to see Raelle’s back as she gave up on them one final time.
Strong arms tightened around her.
Didn’t leave.
Didn’t pull away.
Grew stronger.
Accepting.
Warm and gentle and real.
Scylla couldn't hold back the muted sob building in her chest. She buried her face in the blue wool, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood as she fought to regain control.
It had been so long. A lifetime. Many nights wondering if she had dreamt their time together. Dreamt that someone loved her. That Raelle loved her.
A sniffle echoed in her ear, and a drop of wetness touched the slope of her cheekbone, dripping down to mingle with her own.
She grasped onto the nape of Raelle’s neck, needing an anchor in the sea of emotions swirling around her, in her. Her fingers tripped down, tangling in the stiff uniform collar.
She was being held by, was holding, the girl she loved.
The girl she couldn’t be with.
The girl the fates allowed her to fall for only to rip away from her again and again.
Lips touched her ear, “I never stopped.”
Scylla’s knees buckled.
Raelle held her up, pulling her closer, so close Scylla could feel the broken beat of the blonde’s heart in her own chest.
Pushing back slightly, she lifted her tearful eyes, forcing Raelle to do the same.
At the sight of weeping blue, Scylla grasped her face, cupping her jaw.
Bridging the distance between them, she caught trembling lips with her own.
The universe slowed down to that one moment.
There was no music. No dance. No soldiers or Spree or prying eyes.
No war or fighting or different sides.
There was just the feel of those lips and the knowledge, the belief, the certainty that this was where she was meant to be. Who she was meant to be with.
That she would do anything to feel this way forever.
That her entire existence was in this single moment.
When they slowly broke apart, foreheads touching, Scylla spoke from her heart, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
A voice cleared loudly beside them.
Unwillingly, the couple turned to look, bodies still pressed together.
Izadora, stern but an apology in her eye, flicked her head, “Time for your date to head home before it gets too late, Raelle.”
Raelle grit her teeth and blinked before nodding. She faced Scylla.
Wordlessly, Scylla drew her into another unwavering kiss that Raelle returned eagerly.
As they separated, Raelle tugged on Scylla’s wrist, “Scyl,”
Scylla smiled at her, “I’ll see you soon. I promise.”
Raelle’s eyebrow ticked up, and Scylla leaned back in for a quick kiss. Her mouth whispered quietly against her lips, “Our tree. Tomorrow. Midnight.”
With that Scylla forced herself to walk away, Izadora a step behind.
She would tell Raelle everything tomorrow.
Everything.
No more lies.
No more half truths or hiding.
If they wanted to use Raelle like they used her, then Raelle was going to be ready for it. She would have a choice.
Scylla would make sure of it.