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There are far too many people. Their thoughts crash into her mind, wave after wave of ‘I need a drink’, ‘Why won’t she talk to me’, ‘Wish my lover was here’, ‘This ale is too bitter’ and more, always more, until she feels like her head will split in half, right there on the table. The others do not notice. The weird robot is flitting around the genasi, who looks like he’s swallowed a lemon, peel and all, and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else. The halfling is talking to the old man sitting with his forearms on the table, and the bard is frantically waving his hands around, obviously trying to explain something to the satyr and apparently failing, if the laughter around them is any indication.
Which is good, because it means that no one is paying attention to her when purple starts to curl in her veins, wisps of colour drifting from wrist to elbow and back down again. No one notices, but Laudna. She could feel her watching her all through the evening, but as usual she just was, a presence at her side that should have been cold, but that always fills her with a warmth and a sense of peace that is enough, most nights, to act as a buffer between her and the outside world. This time, she can barely feel it. Another wave of thoughts, stronger than before, slams into her, and it knocks the breath out of her, leaving her dizzy. She’s on her feet before her brain can catch up with the rest of her body, and when the others, startled, look at her, she manages to steel herself just enough to say “Pardon me, I’m not feelin’ all that well.” and then rushes upstairs, almost tripping over the last steps.
In her haze she misses another hair being pushed back, another voice, cool and seemingly controlled, saying “I’d better go check on her”, the steps following her up the stairs. She’s too far gone for that. As soon as she gets in her room she slumps against the door, hands gripping the sides of her head and trying desperately to hold back a scream, the purple of her hair mingling with the darker shades that lit up in her veins. A knock manages to get through the cacophony of voices in her mind, and her eyes snap up: Laudna has a key, the room is hers too, so could it be someone else? She doesn’t have time to go through every horrible scenario that pops to mind; the gentle “Might I come in, darling?” Is enough to calm her. She unlocks the door and in a moment Laudna is there, inside, her hand coming to rest on the side of her head. “Too many people, yes?” She can only nod, throat too hoarse for anything else, but they’ve been together for years now, and she’s learned to understand her even without words. “Can I help, then?”
A whimper claws its way from her throat and she tries to lean forward, tries to get closer, always closer. “Whatever you need, darling.” It’s nothing more than a whisper, but it sets her body alight just as well. Just a breath and then her lips are on hers, and the roar in her head quietens almost instantly, only shreds of errand thoughts still clinging on, kicked out by the feeling of Laudna’s hands holding to her hips and pushing her backwards until her head touches the door, eliciting a broken moan that almost gets lost in another kiss. After moments, or maybe hours, she feels her drawing back. When her eyes open Laudna is right there, staring at her, a slight smile curving her lips, and she really can’t help the giggle that escapes her. “What, did I do something funny?”
“No, darling, just… when you smile like this, I you could almost be fun-fun.” The grin becomes even wider and she takes a step forward, crowding her against the door until her hands are on either side of her head, lips an inch from hers.
“You say that as if you don’t like me when I’m scary.”
She doesn’t answer. She just surges forward, and for the rest of the night the argument becomes a moot point.