Work Text:
FrostNova touches Talulah, bare skin on skin, and Talulah doesn't burn.
It happens one day when they are sparring. Instead, Talulah snarls, arm twisting to grab hers (human touch the feel of skin on hers, fingers wrapping around her arm unflinching) and hurls her to the ground.
FrostNova crashes into the dirt, breath knocked out of her. The fight, her anger, and their argument is abruptly and suddenly unimportant. Someone had touched her. Someone else's skin had brushed with hers and had not flinched away in pain.
She gapes at the sky, knocked completely off kilter. There's a traitorous, desperate hope that grips her throat. In the space of a half second, the smallest brush of human contact, her world has been completely overturned. She can still feel the ghost of warmth; a burning handprint on her arm, branded in her nerves.
"...FrostNova?" Talulah asks. Footsteps crunch in the snow, before Talulah peers down at her, brow furrowed in concern.
FrostNova stares back. Talulah. Talulah was hot where she was cold. Talulah could touch her and not be frostbitten.
If she reached out and placed a hand on Talulah's, she could do that without hurting her. She could embrace someone without causing them pain. She could be held again, be comforted, hold hands, kiss, feel the avenue of human connection that she thought she had lost—Maybe it would be possible again—
If she touched Talulah again, she could see for sure. If she reached out, she could be sure that she was not dreaming. Maybe it was a fluke. A one-time accident of their uncontrolled Arts. Maybe—
Talulah offers a hand to help her up. FrostNova doesn't take it. She scrambles to her feet and bolts.
***
"What's wrong?"
"There's nothing wrong," FrostNova insists, glaring at a nearby tree. She gathers her Arts and sends ice crashing into it. Bark and splinters go flying.
"You ran off yesterday," Talulah counters. "And you don't even want to spar. What happened?"
"Nothing," FrostNova growls. She sends another blow at the tree with a sharp, savage gesture. This time, it topples, branches crashing to the ground. "There's your firewood," she snaps to Talulah, stalking up to the tree to break off branches.
In the end, it was still Talulah. Talulah, the naive girl with a foolish goal. She still wanted FrostNova and Buldrokkas'tee's help, and FrostNova would not give her unearned leverage. Even if she was the only person in the world that FrostNova could touch without hurting, they weren't friends. They could be allies, but only if she proved herself. In a certain light, in a certain view, they were enemies.
"Well, alright," Talulah concedes. She hesitates. "But, if you ever need anything, you can come to me."
FrostNova cleaves a branch in two with her Arts, fuming. Abruptly, she stands, thrusting her hand out to Talulah. "One thing," she demands. "I need you to try one thing. Take my hand. And…"
She pauses, lost on her next words. If I'm wrong, I'm sorry ? No. Maybe—
Talulah's mouth thins in determination. Without hesitating, she reaches out and clasps FrostNova's hand in hers.
FrostNova waits. For the reflexive flinch that comes when people touch her. For Talulah to hiss in pain, to snatch her hand back. To feel the touch stiffen under her grip as skin freezes over.
Nothing happens. It's just Talulah, warm and solid. Her eyes meet FrostNova's squarely, holding the grip.
Talulah is… warm. Her hand is calloused, rough with scars and bumps, but her touch is soft.
A lump rises in FrostNova's throat. Her world zooms in on their points of shared contact, of heat that she thought she would never feel again.
Everything about FrostNova is cold. She’s one with the freezing air around her; the chill radiates past her skin and down to her bones, to the organs underneath. There's not a trace of heat from her heart to her toes to her fingers. Nothing hot can ever reach her through the cold.
In this moment, though, her hand is warm. And it's so different from her spicy candies, from her hot drinks, because this time it's real. This time she can feel it. She can tell exactly how paltry her substitutes are, how far they fall from the real thing.
FrostNova closes her eyes, taking a breath. She grits her teeth, rage bursting through her, an uncontrollable grief at the unfairness of it all. Her fingers tremble, the barest waver, trying to hold in the bitterness behind her teeth.
This is what she lost. This is what they took from her. This is what she had to give up, and what she will have to give up again.
"FrostNova?"
FrostNova opens her eyes and rips her hand away. She can feel the loss immediately, cold rushing in to replace the heat. It's gone in seconds, stolen by her eternal winter. Despite that, she can still feel the phantom imprint, a tingling on her skin.
"It's nothing," she dismisses, turning away to carve off more firewood. "I got what I wanted. You can go now."
***
"Sister!"
FrostNova's head whips around at the exclamation, heart racing. The battle continues to rage around her, blood and weapons flashing through the air. Her Arts are ready in a heartbeat, ready to deal with the threat, when someone crashes into her. With abrupt, panicked movements, they grab her bare arm and yank her down.
Even through the din of battle, FrostNova can hear their pained gasp, the way that their fingers spasm and the way that the touch turns stiff.
FrostNova ducks, scrambling to find her bearings. An arrow blasts through the air above her, narrowly missing. She whirls to see her savior; one of her sisters. Already, the yeti is rolling away, teeth clenched in pain as she clutches her frostbitten hand.
FrostNova shoves down a wave of guilt. She scrambles to stand, blasting her Arts at a soldier charging at them. They’d treat the yeti later. Regrets and feelings had no place on the battlefield.
***
"What happened?" Talulah asks once the battle is over, gaze glued to the yeti’s wound, a frown across her face. "I saw you two out of the corner of my eye. No one was using ice Arts, so why…?"
FrostNova closes her eyes, letting out a short, angry breath.
It was inevitable that Talulah would find out eventually. FrostNova shouldn’t even have kept it from her for this long. As long as they were allies, it was a liability and an oversight that Talulah didn’t know. Still, resentment and shame prickles at her skin.
"That's what happens when I touch people," she says, handing Talulah the knowledge of her vulnerabilities and the extent of her weakness. Her voice sounds flat and emotionless, even to her. "I freeze everything around me. Even people."
Talulah's eyes widen, emotion flashing across her face. She glances at the injured yeti, then FrostNova, then finally her own hands. "I—" she begins.
"Forget it," FrostNova cuts her off. "Whatever you're going to say, stop. I don’t want to hear it.”
Talulah closes her mouth, regarding her with a certain sort of sorrow. It makes FrostNova's hackles rise, and she snarls.
"If you ever want—" Talulah begins, taking a half step towards her.
"No," FrostNova snaps, turning and stalking away. "I don’t want anything more from you."
***
Despite her words, some months later, FrostNova breaks.
She stands at the entrance of Talulah’s tent, distress and pride warring with each other. In the end, her distress wins out. She can still feel the crack of Buldrokkas’tee’s skin under hands, can still see the pain that flashes through his eyes. Guilt and loneliness follow at her heels, unshakeable. There’s still the slightest tremble in her hands as she reaches toward the tent.
She just wants to be close to someone without hurting them, for once.
"Talulah," FrostNova finally calls, stepping forward. She waits for several moments, hoping and dreading that Talulah is there. Sure enough, Talulah draws open the flaps to the tent, eyes widening in surprise as she catches sight of her.
“FrostNova,” Talulah greets. A realization flits over her face as she takes her in. She steps back, leaving the entrance open invitingly. “Come in.”
“Talulah? Who is it?”
FrostNova watches mutely as an Elafia peeks around the corner, head tilted in curiosity. Talulah turns back to her, a small but genuine smile on her lips. The way that they look at each other makes something in FrostNova’s chest pang; the obvious fondness that takes over Talulah when she catches sight of the other.
“It’s FrostNova,” Talulah responds. The Elafia’s gaze sharpens with understanding.
“I’ll take my leave,” she says with a nod. She steps around Talulah and tilts her head to FrostNova with a smile. “I needed to go visit the village, anyway. Take care, Talulah.”
With that, she steps out into the cold, leaving FrostNova and Talulah alone. Talulah watches her go, before her gaze turns to FrostNova. Hesitantly, she speaks.
“Is there anything you need?”
Weakness. Vulnerability. They were allies, but not friends.
FrostNova exhales, and lets go.
"Can you just… hold me?" she croaks. "Just for a little while."
Talulah's face crumples, a heartbroken realization in her expression. FrostNova looks away, resentment growing under her skin.
"Of course," Talulah says softly. Slowly, she slings an arm around FrostNova's shoulder, then gathers her up in her arms. FrostNova crumples into the touch, letting herself curl into the embrace and rest her head on Talulah's chest.
The heat wraps around her like a blanket. Everything that she used to have, that she's spent so long desperately trying to recreate. It's all handed over so easily, so simply. FrostNova closes her eyes, a lump rising in her throat. Despite herself, tears begin to slip down her cheeks, and she muffles a sob.
"Oh, FrostNova… It's okay. Shh… It’s okay."
FrostNova shakes her head mutely. "Please," she croaks, shaking with another sob. "Don't speak."
Talulah falls silent. FrostNova exhales slowly, shifting closer.
It's all the things she thought she would never have again. It's all the things that she quietly resigned herself to living without, watching everyone around her indulge in the human joys that she could not. Warmth, touch, and care.
If she closes her eyes, if she ignores the smell of sulfur that clings to Talulah, she can almost imagine she's small again. That she's in the mines, terror kept at bay by the embrace of her grandmother.
It was a terrible time, a terrible life. But that small version of her still had things that FrostNova misses with bitter jealousy.
Like this; the unspoken, immediate connection that comes with human touch. The care, the implicit trust, the tenderness, of letting someone lay their hand on your skin, right next to your vulnerable flesh and blood and organs, and still not hurt you.
FrostNova can feel the rise and fall of Talulah's breath. She presses her ear to her chest and can hear the quiet thump of her heartbeat. She exhales, letting herself feel the closeness, the minute way that Talulah shifts.
It is intimate in a way that is unfair. For all the closeness that she had with the yetis and with Buldrokkas'tee, the intimacy of touch was never something that could be savored like this.
Talulah pats her back, her hands slow and careful in a way that they never are on the battlefield. In sharp contrast to the way she wields her greatsword, she holds her as if she is something precious. Something that she doesn't want to harm.
It feels like FrostNova never developed her Arts. As if her heart does not hold an unshakeable cold, as if ice does not cling to her skin at every turn. She doesn't feel the cold at all. Only Talulah.
But while the warmth came so easily, the cost was vulnerability. It was such a dangerous thing to indulge. FrostNova draws away, skin protesting the loss of contact.
"...Thank you," FrostNova croaks, looking away. She draws her coat around herself, as if trying to hold onto the last traces of heat. It's no use; it was gone the moment she let go of Talulah. She clears her throat and turns to leave. "I'll... see you at training, Talulah."
"Wait," Talulah protests, reaching after her to grab her sleeve. "FrostNova, please. If you ever need comfort, you can come back here."
FrostNova stops, mopping up tears with her hands. "No," she says. Then, amending, "Why?" she demands. "We are not friends. We are barely comrades. If you think you can take advantage of me so we’ll support you, then I'll freeze you dead where you stand."
"No!" Talulah protests immediately. "It's not that. Maybe we're not friends, FrostNova, but… I'd like to be," she admits. "I… don't want to see you struggle like this if I can help."
"As if," FrostNova snaps, looking over her shoulder to glare at Talulah.
"I know that it's hard for you to trust me," Talulah says. "But I'll do my best to earn it. Even if we part ways, you’re still welcome here."
Without another word, FrostNova shoves open the entrance to the tent and stalks out. Talulah watches her go, the gaze burning at her back.
***
Years later, it feels strange when FrostNova enters Talulah’s quarters with wariness.
"FrostNova," Talulah greets, sitting back to study her. Her eyes follow FrostNova across the room. "Welcome.”
FrostNova stops several paces away from the Draco, keeping a cautious eye on her. "Our last battle…”
"Are you concerned?" Talulah asks. She closes the book that she had been studying, standing to face FrostNova. "We need more extreme methods if we are to succeed, you know. I'm sure you're aware of the odds we’re up against."
FrostNova pauses, eyes flitting over Talulah. Wrong. It's all wrong. Everything about this was so unlike Talulah, from the way that she had dealt with those soldiers to the way that she was acting now.
Even if she was still fighting for the Infected, even if she was simply using more realistic tactics to reach her goal, there’s a pit of dread in FrostNova’s stomach; an apprehension that tells her that Talulah will not stop with Ursus; that she is unpredictable and no longer the person that FrostNova trusts. That FrostNova can no longer tell what she truly stands for. Should she challenge her? Should she still follow her, still give her the trust to lead them?
Talulah smiles at her with a detached coldness, a shadow of the ones she used to give. “Come here,” she commands softly, holding out her hand. Eyes narrowed with distrust, FrostNova does.
But the only thing that Talulah does is put her hand on FrostNova’s cheek, one finger stroking over the curve of her face. FrostNova startles, hackles rising despite the familiarity of the gesture. For a moment, they are both still. FrostNova waits, eyes narrowed as she waits for Talulah’s next move. Talulah watches her, face softening; an actor getting used to an unfamiliar role.
FrostNova’s patience breaks. With a split-second decision, she opens her mouth to snap—
Then Talulah’s lips crash into hers.
FrostNova gasps, reeling back. Talulah's lips slot against hers, teeth nibbling at her bottom lip as her mouth parts.
There is a part of FrostNova, she knows, that wanted this.
But as she breaks away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her certainty grows into something solid.
This was not Talulah.
The imposter smiles at her. They reach up to cradle FrostNova's cheek once more. FrostNova, stunned with surprise, does not stop them.
"FrostNova," the imposter breathes, voice cradling the name with care. Their eyes crinkle, mouth curving. It's the identical picture of fondness, the way one lover looks at the other. FrostNova's heart aches, still too shocked to respond. "I love you.”
FrostNova, whose rage had been steadily growing, freezes. Even if this person was not Talulah, they were still connected to her. They were still the only person that FrostNova could touch without hurting. They were the only connection she had left to the girl that had held FrostNova through so many sleepless nights. And FrostNova—
FrostNova is weak. She cannot bring herself to leave. She cannot bring herself try to kill her.
FrostNova narrows her eyes, locking her gaze with the imposter. Even if she stays with Reunion, even if she continues to let Talulah lead, touch was always something that she could live without. It was always something that she had been prepared to lose.
With a last flash of grief for the warmth that she would never feel again, she rips herself away. “Don’t touch me again,” she warns, letting a note of threat creep into her voice. “If you do, then I’ll kill you. If you betray Reunion, then I’ll kill you. Understand?”
For now, Talulah still fought for the same ideals she used to. If she ended up turning on them in some way, then FrostNova would find it in herself to fight her.
The imposter draws back, expression inscrutable. “Of course,” they agree, tipping their head. Even despite the threat, FrostNova gets the unshakeable feeling that they are pleased with this turn of events. As if she’s played perfectly into their hands. She grits her teeth, turning away. She pauses for a brief moment, before sweeping away without another word.
The words ‘ I know that it’s hard for you to trust me, but I’ll do my best to earn it’; the words ‘ Even if we part ways, you’re still welcome here’; in the end this was what it came to.
***
Slowly, slowly, so Talulah can move away if she wants, FrostNova presses her face close to Talulah's. Cheek to cheek, noses bumping. She can feel the flutter of Talulah's eyelashes on the curve of her cheekbone, and wonders if Talulah can feel the same.
Slowly, she nuzzles her, rubbing cheeks in an attempt to slide closer still, each movement setting her nerves alight with the contact.. A desperate emotion rises in her throat, a part of her breaking at how intimate it is. How close they are.
It's terrifying. FrostNova doesn't know if she could stop if she wanted, head spinning with contentment. A part of her is desperate for more contact, desperate to get closer in any way possible. To melt into Talulah's warmth completely.
She doesn't want to go back to the cold. She hates the cold.
"Can I," she croaks, self-hatred filling her veins even as she speaks, unable to stop herself, "kiss you?"
She doesn't love Talulah. She thinks that it's possible, in the future. She could fall in love with this girl that wore her heart so easily and fought so earnestly for the Infected. But, in love or not, that wasn't important at all.
Talulah is silent, nuzzling her cheek. Then, she sighs, the sound falling heavy. "No," she denies, voice quiet with regret. "I'm sorry."
FrostNova nods. She draws away to rest her head on Talulah’s shoulder. “That’s okay,” she says, faintly surprised at how true that is.
Even if she wants more, even if she’s in love with Talulah after all. It was enough to just be close to her.