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Sitting at the anvil was therapeutic for Sasha. The rhythmic clang of the hammer against steel was as catchy as a song, and she whistled along as she forged the long steel blade. The reinforced wooden stool she was perched upon creaked as she swung the hammer down repeatedly with significant force. Even through the cacophony Sasha managed to hear the swinging flap of the tent, signifying the entrance of someone Sasha couldn’t see, but could hazard a guess as to who it might be.
“Don’t even think about it,” she called over her shoulder, even as the corner of her mouth twitched upwards.
“You're such a bummer, you know that?” Marcy’s voice carried in response. Sasha just rolled her eyes.
“I'm sorry that I don't want you to trip and burn your face on this hot anvil.” Marcy had her arms crossed, her eyes twinkling as she admired Sasha from afar. She was wearing a maroon tank top that showcased her toned muscles that rippled as she worked. She was still wearing her skirt, gloves, and boots, and her blonde hair was pulled back and away from her sweaty forehead. The rest of her ensemble was abandoned in favor of keeping cool.
“Awh, Sash, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Sasha didn’t turn around, instead choosing to point towards a wooden workbench that was crowded with supplies.
“Actually, I changed my mind. Could you hand me those tongs over there and stand real close while you do it?” Marcy obliged with a shake of her head, choosing not to humor Sasha with a response. Their fingers brushed lightly as the tool changed hands, and Marcy hovered somewhere between too close and not close enough.
“Is this for Anne?” She asked as she watched Sasha carefully turn the blade with the tongs. She swung the mallet again, quickly smoothing out a dent in the steel.
“Maybe.” Sasha leaned back from her stool and Marcy met her halfway, resting her elbows on the blonde’s shoulders as her head lolled back against Marcy’s chest.
“I think she'll love it,” she mused, threading her fingers through Sasha’s hair as the blonde snorted incredulously.
“Why? Because I'm giving her something new to potentially kill me with when she gets back?”
“No,” she said, with emphasis on the o. “Because she got it from you.” Somehow Sasha found that hard to believe. Neither of them were exactly on Anne’s good side right now, and for all they knew she wouldn’t even come back for them. Still, she found Marcy’s optimism oddly comforting. Speaking of whom, the hands that were now scratching lightly behind her ears were starting to make Sasha’s head a bit fuzzy.
“Come to bed soon, please? It’s late, and I don’t like being alone.” There was an unspoken end to that sentence that Sasha understood, because Marcy was never truly alone. Not so long as it was living inside her head. Maddie’s warding spells kept it from assuming full control over Marcy’s body, but that didn’t stop it from haunting her dreams at night. She didn’t sleep without Sasha by her side, holding her and whispering sweet nothings into her raven hair until she eventually drifted off. The horror swore no allegiance to them, but it did keep Marcy alive, and that was the only reason Sasha tolerated it being there.
“Alright.” The sheet of metal she was working with was cooling rapidly and getting difficult to mold to her liking. Sasha carefully laid the tongs on top of the anvil, which was no longer hot to the touch. She allowed Marcy to pluck her hands away and guide her into a standing position. “A few more days of work and it should be done, anyway.”
“And then you’ll make one for little ol’ me?” She asked, batting her lashes cutely.
“Marcy, I barely trust you with that damn crossbow let alone an entire sword.” Her arms encircled Marcy’s waist and she pulled her close, her head resting on Marcy’s shoulder.
“Aw, c’mon, I’m great with the crossbow!” Sasha chuckled and pressed a kiss somewhere between her neck and shoulder.
“I know.” Before Marcy had a chance to react Sasha swept her off her feet, carrying her bridal style. Marcy was still pouting as she stubbornly clung to Sasha’s neck, but the tiniest smile was evident on her lips. Sasha hummed to herself as she led them both outside of the tent, the low notes reverberating in her chest. Marcy made no protest.
————
Sasha found Anne in her usual spot at the edge of the Plantar farm, propped up against the stone fence that surrounded the property. Her gift for Anne was hanging from her belt in an oversized scabbard, which obscured the details up to the tip of the pommel. They had all just left their final preparation meeting for their invasion on the castle, and spirits were running high amidst the rebellion. Between Anne’s calamity powers, Sasha’s leadership, and the commandeering of Andrias’ “secret weapon” residing in Marcy, the amphibians seemed confident in an easy victory. None of the three girls were as optimistic, especially with their homes, their families, and each other at stake, but the last thing any of them wanted to do was dash any hopes of winning.
Sasha had managed to convince the pipsqueak to leave her and Anne alone for the evening. It was especially easy with Ivy’s help, as she had asked Sprig at Sasha’s request to help her prep some explosives that could be launched from slingshots. Polly was busy with General Yunnan taking inventory of their stockpiled weapons, also at Sasha’s recommendation. Hop Pop hadn’t actually needed any convincing to make himself scarce for a while. He even gave Sasha a supportive pat on the leg when she’d asked to meet Anne on the farm, alone. It almost seemed like- no, there’s no way he could’ve known what she had planned. The only living soul who knew about the sword was Marcy, and Sasha’s stone-faced expression was not easily read. Either the old frog had a sixth sense for this sort of thing, or Sasha was actually starting to grow soft. For her own sake, she hoped it was neither.
The three girls had returned to amicable terms since Anne’s return to Amphibia. Protecting Wartwood from a frobo invasion and raising an army against Andrias seemed to be enough to put Sasha in Anne’s good graces. Things were definitely still rocky between them, but there really hadn’t been time to work out their deeper issues before they were planning an all-out war to overthrow Andrias once and for all. They had gotten to the point where Anne could look Sasha in the eye without her lip curling in disgust, and could hear Marcy’s voice without blanching as though she’d seen a ghost. That counted for something, at least.
“Hey,” Sasha said as she approached. Anne smiled when she saw her, though there was exhaustion evident in her features. She was wearing her breastplate over her new clothes, and she had managed to keep shoes on both of her feet.
“Hey.” Anne had changed significantly since visiting home, Sasha realized. She heard it in the way she spoke, and she saw it in the way Anne held herself. Anyone who hadn’t known Anne for most of their lives would probably miss it, but Sasha noticed. Marcy had also noticed, but she never mentioned it outside of a single passing remark. Whatever time Anne had spent with her parents back home, whatever she had discussed with them, clearly it had stuck with her. She probably hadn’t even wanted to return, but Andrias’ invasion of Earth left her with little choice.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Sasha asked her, leaning against the fence a comfortable distance away. Despite the differences, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the aspects of Anne that were still familiar and comforting. She still had that same smile, those same big brown eyes and soft curly hair that she ached to touch. She was still kind to a fault, showing Sasha the same compassion as anyone else, even if she didn’t deserve it.
“Not really.” Anne was looking off in the distance towards where they knew Andrias’ castle had crash-landed. He had been marooned after Anne, with Marcy’s help, figured out how to siphon the blue gem’s power from the calamity box. Even still, the rebellion knew he was far from helpless. “What about you?” Anne asked in a tone of voice that made Sasha’s heart skip a beat. Traitor. Outwardly she shrugged.
“I’ve staged worse coups.” Anne actually laughed at that, to her surprise and secret delight. It helped to know that they were on good enough terms to joke about the past. There were still scars between them, but they were mending. Sasha took this as her cue to bring up her reasons for meeting with Anne in the first place.
“I made something for you. For the occasion.” Anne’s brows raised in surprise, and Sasha’s fingers reached self-consciously for the sword’s hidden pommel. The way Anne warily followed her movements triggered a twisting feeling in her gut. She already knew Anne didn’t trust her fully, and she understood. But for her to think Sasha would still draw a weapon on her hurt more than she cared to admit.
“What is it?” Anne asked curiously, tearing her eyes away from the scabbard. At least she was trying to give Sasha the benefit of the doubt.
“You’re looking at it.” Just not for the right reasons, her traitorous mind added . Sasha ignored this as she slowly unsheathed the sword, searching carefully for Anne’s reaction. To her credit, she didn’t flinch or back away, and her hand didn’t drop to her own sword. She simply watched as the weapon and all its intricate details made their way into the light.
The blade was an opalescent blue, not dissimilar to the hue of her heron sword. The grip was wrapped in a dyed indigo leather, which was textured for easier handling. At the pommel, a row of tiny sapphires were set just below where the tempered metal changed from blue to a rosy pink. Perched here was a small decorative frog, the color giving away Sasha’s inspiration far better than the realistic, but otherwise generic details.
Sasha held the blade flat against her palm, holding it out for Anne to inspect. Slowly so as not to accidentally cut Sasha’s skin, she lifted the blade and raised the tip high, where it glinted in the setting sun.
“You really made this?” Anne finally asked, turning the blade in her hand.
“Mhm.” Sasha began fiddling with her gloved hand, pulling at the tips of the fingers. “Grime wanted to help me find an outlet for my… anger problems. Turns out the toads are actually really into the arts, especially when they involve weapons of war. Who knew?” Anne nodded without comment, as she usually did whenever the toads were brought up. Frogs, newts, and toads alike were working together for the rebellion, but that didn’t mean the dual betrayal of the toads had been completely forgotten. Some still whispered that the toad army would follow any master as long as they were on the winning side.
“So, what’s the catch?” Sasha blinked at the question, genuinely taken aback by it.
“The what?” She asked curiously. Anne pursed her lips, her finger tracing along the small details carved into the Sprig figurehead.
“You know. Your ulterior motive.”
“I don't have one.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe.” The corners of her eyes crinkled into a smile, and Sasha realized then that Anne wasn’t actually being cautious. She decided there was little harm in playing into Anne’s game, and she put up her hands in a mock defensive gesture.
“Fine, you caught me. I’m actually madly in love with you and I made you this sword as a proposal for courtship.” Sasha thought little of her response, at least until Anne’s jaw dropped, clicked shut, and opened again. Her eyes widened slightly, and she began to worry she hadn’t sounded quite as sarcastic as she’d hoped.
“That’s not funny, Sasha.” It took her a few minutes to process what the hell was going on. Anne was angry at her, again, for… what? Joking about being in love with her? Why? Did she actually-
In a rare moment of altruism, Sasha quieted her thoughts and instead began to study Anne, who was now refusing to meet her gaze. Her look of genuine awe had diminished into something more melancholy as she studied her own reflection through the polished blade. Her fingers were flexing rhythmically against the grip, and she seemed stuck between wanting to cradle the weapon closer and dropping it as though it were still hot from the forge. A light bulb went off in Sasha’s head, and it took all of her concentration not to groan out of sheer embarrassment for herself.
“I’m sorry.” These two words being the first out of Sasha’s mouth instantly caught Anne’s attention. She still wasn’t looking her in the eyes, but her gaze flickered between Sasha’s lips, her scar, and basically anywhere else on her face. Sasha felt the color rising in her cheeks as a result of Anne’s scrutiny.
“I didn’t mean to joke about something like that. I’m sorry I did.” She was unsure about how to continue, but knowing she was in way too deep to stop now she pressed on. “For what it’s worth, I made this sword so I could tell you how I feel without words. I wanted you to know that I missed being friends with you. And I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, but you matter enough to me that I at least wanted to try and make up for it. Because honestly, I have been thinking about us more in that way lately. Maybe I exaggerated a little bit. It’s not like I’m trying to ask for your hand in marriage or anything. But I- yeah.”
A palpable silence settled between them, and Anne let the sword go slack at her waist. She was busy studying Sasha’s face, her expression unreadable. Sasha simply stared back, her face turning impossibly red despite her stoic appearance, her hands balled into fists at her sides. Whatever Anne was searching for, Sasha was pretty sure she wanted her to find it. When Anne finally broke eye contact, it was to carefully balance the sword along the stone wall, far enough away so that she wouldn’t accidentally lean against it.
“Sasha.”
“Yes?” Oh frog, this was really happening. Too late to back down now, not that she wanted to. Sasha Waybright didn’t back down from anything. Not even something she was terrified of.
“Do you like me?” The way she said it, so full of wonder and so devoid of judgement, had Sasha weak in the knees. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t register Anne stepping closer into her personal space.
“Yes,” she exhaled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as she did so. Anne nodded, seemingly satisfied with that, and rested her head against Sasha’s chest just below her chin.
“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to pressure you into confessing or anything.” Sasha tentatively nudged her nose into curly hair, taking in the scent of pines and fresh earth that was so uniquely Anne. “I’ve just been kinda wondering, I guess.” When she pulled away to look at Sasha again, she instantly took notice of the spark in Anne’s eyes. It bore a striking similarity to the energy that overtook her moments before she defied Sasha at Toad Tower. It was familiar enough to make Sasha search for Anne’s hand in the growing darkness, and squeeze.
“Look, I don’t want to lead you on.” There it was. Sasha gripped Anne’s hand like her life depended on it, and to her surprise she didn’t pull away. Anne actually squeezed back, and Sasha felt a lump settling in her throat. “I’m really glad we’ve gotten close again, and I do trust you for the most part. But things are so chaotic right now, and I haven’t had time to sort through all the confusing emotions I have. I don’t want to promise you anything until I’m sure it’s what I want, for both of our sakes.” It didn’t sound like an outright rejection, but it wasn’t exactly affirmative, either. She resisted the urge to lash out, to let go of Anne’s hand and walk away before her pride was utterly crushed. Instead she pressed her lips into a thin line and stayed silent.
“I'm not saying I don't have feelings like that, but… I'm just not ready to explore those feelings yet.” Anne’s thumb swiped across Sasha’s knuckles, and Sasha swallowed her pride just long enough to muster some sort of casual, totally-not-crestfallen response.
“Psh, yeah, of course. I mean, obvi there’s a lot on our minds right now, right? No time to think about relationship drama and whatnot. It can totally wait until we crush Andrias once and for all. No big deal.” It sounded convincing enough, but Sasha still winced at the slight wavering in her voice. Anne just nodded, and Sasha was grateful she either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care.
“But, um.” Anne’s gaze darted towards the floor before settling somewhere behind Sasha’s right ear. Without warning she leaned forward, stealing a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. This was a really nice gift.” Sasha’s face went up in flames, alongside her ability to form coherent sentences.
“No- no problem.” Anne leaned into her again, this time with her arms outstretched in an uncertain hug. Sasha followed suit, acutely aware of the fact that she hadn’t been this close to Anne in months. When her own arms found Anne’s middle she relaxed, pulling Sasha firmly into the embrace. They remained that way as the sun set over the horizon, with only the moon and stars winking overhead. After a while Sasha began to sway slightly in a sort of dance, making Anne giggle as she followed her movements. Soon enough they were both laughing and swaying and twirling each other round, the upcoming invasion momentarily forgotten to the two stars burning bright for each other well into the night.