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"Like a flower in the concrete,
So beautiful and rare.
You gave me hope when I was empty,
Walked me through the fire, you were there."
— you!, LANY
It takes just longer than a moment for the question to fully sink in.
A thing, she repeats in her own head, silently hoping that she hasn’t accidentally projected that thought into anybody else’s mind. Silently hoping that Dusk doesn’t hear their own words echoed back to them as they stand awkwardly in front of Imogen. Silently hoping that the mental link she has with Laudna — the one they’ve had for so long now — isn’t quite strong enough anymore, at least for right now, for Laudna to catch the tornado of thoughts that come after the words, a thing.
A thing. A thing? Define ‘thing’. What are you talking about? Are you and Laudna… Laudna and I? She lied to me. My best friend. A thing? What… What are we? I trusted her and she lied. Us? Are we an us anymore? Laudna. My… My Laudna. Mine.
The cacophony of whispers, both her own and from the people around her, threaten to break past her mental walls but she blinks, clenches her fist and shakes her head — a nervous tick that always comes after a brief halt in the electrified security fence she keeps up around her mind, and most recently, her heart — and she grits her teeth and fights it.
She can’t help but think that if it was Laudna standing in front of her right now, she’d know. Imogen’s not sure how but she always just knows; always so attentive, so kind and compassionate, so very beautiful.
Laudna would recognize the look on Imogen’s face, the silent plea for help, a silent request to please, get me out of here, and she’d know.
But Laudna’s not here right now and Imogen tries to put on a brave face as her head starts to pulse and thrum with the migraine that has been brewing since the first sip of the Ashari Breezer that Orym ordered for her, from reaching out to Fearne’s parents, from still being roughed up from their encounter earlier, from being around so many people all damn day, from the previous couple nights of shaking and sobbing herself to sleep.
Laudna, her thoughts, or maybe Dusk’s thoughts, echo in her brain as a pit forms in her chest. You and Laudna. Are you a thing? What are you? What are we? Laudna? Where’s Laudna?
“A thing?” She asks, trying to buy herself a few seconds to really think about her answer.
“A thing,” Dusk repeats immediately.
She turns to look towards the group, who all seem to be waiting just out of earshot. Her gaze lands on the back of Laudna’s head, and although she isn’t looking at her, Imogen’s quickening heartbeat still calms at the sight of her, if only for a moment. She’s talking to Fearne, who has reverted back to her normal form and seems to be talking animatedly about something, but Imogen’s eyes are focused solely on Laudna.
She turns back to look at Dusk, who is watching her intently.
“Like, what do you mean?”
She needs more than a few seconds.
Her hands nervously reach for her pouch, and there’s a slight jolt of something through her heart when she remembers that the rock isn’t there anymore. Instead, her hands wander to the pencil in her pocket that Laudna had given her earlier, a gloved finger scraping across the indentations where the name of the restaurant has been carved into it.
“Like…” Dusk presses her fingers together, looking around nervously. Imogen’s fingers tremble. “Romantically…” She grips the pencil tighter, “entangled.”
She blinks.
Are we?
Her head pounds harder and she wants so badly to just leave. To pretend like this conversation never happened. To tell Dusk to mind her business. First Laudna messaged Dusk instead of her, and now they’re asking her if she and Laudna are together? No. She doesn’t owe anyone a damn thing, especially not Dusk, especially not someone she met just a few hours ago. Someone who is standing in front of her asking her the same damn question she’s been asking herself for months now. Someone who isn’t in the wrong at all, really. Not in the slightest. Because it’s a valid question, she guesses, but no, god damn it, no, they’re not a thing. They’re nothing.
Her heart wells up in her chest and her stomach churns and she feels like she can’t breathe, because no, they’re not a thing, but please, please let us at least have the chance to try to be. No, we’re not together but we should be, and please give us more time to figure it out. No, she’s not mine but please, please, the timing isn’t quite right at the moment and please, please don’t take her from me.
Her mind flashes with memories of Laudna, always Laudna. Laudna consoling her after a nightmare, stroking her hair and telling her that she’s here, it’s okay, everything is going to be alright, and she’s not going anywhere, not ever; like she’s an expert at knowing exactly what Imogen needs to hear.
Laudna handing her some water in the hot midday sun, the two of them taking a quiet moment to rest after long walks between towns, their hands lingering for a fraction of a second too long before pulling away with hesitation.
Laudna taking care of her after a particularly rough fight, always so slow and careful, so tender with her touches.
(“Oh, darling Imogen,” she would whisper, voice still shaky from the fight, wrapping some cloth around Imogen’s injured arm, completely unaware of the effect those words had on her. “Are you alright? Does it hurt? Come here, let me…” she’d trail off as she moved closer, worked gentler, and Imogen would have to try to act like her heart wasn’t about to burst with all the love she felt for her best friend in that moment.)
And Gods, Laudna laughing — she has such a beautiful laugh — beside her in the tavern, cupping her face and wiping the food from her cheek with her thumb. Laudna’s arm linking with hers as they walk through the Farmer’s market. Laudna smiling at her so contentedly over breakfast at Zhudanna’s, like this is exactly where they were always meant to be. Laudna’s hands, so sharp but so loving and soft whenever they touch. Laudna’s eyes, so full of light and life and love. Laudna’s arms, so protective when she holds her at night. Laudna’s beautiful face. Laudna’s warm heart and comforting words and barely-there kisses against her temple as she falls asleep. Laudna, Laudna, Laudna.
She can see her own content smile in the flash of memories that seem to be playing in this brief moment of respite. Her own happiness that she’d been lacking for so long before she met Laudna, shining so brightly that it pains her to think about for too long. The ache in her heart the first time Laudna told her about what happened to her all those years ago. Her own trembling hands whenever Laudna would ask her for help in removing her belt from where it had caught on her skirt because “Damn it, it’s caught again, Imogen!” The longing looks she’d give Laudna whenever she left to run some errands on her own, worried that maybe, just maybe, Laudna wouldn’t come back to her. The joy she felt when she met someone who had powers just like her. The relief at finally having someone to talk to other than her horses; a real friend whose musical thoughts matched the things she said out loud. The tears in her eyes when Laudna first cried in her arms. The simmering anguish she felt knowing that she could never tell Laudna everything she truly felt about her in case she lost the one good thing in her life.
The pure, unadulterated love she feels whenever Laudna smiles at her, knowing that she has chosen to stay with her through thick and thin, no matter what, or who, gets in their way.
Laudna’s face, scared and scary, holding the rock between them in a death grip akin to the one she has on Imogen’s heart, not letting go despite promising otherwise.
The thoughts jumble until they’re a mess of colors and blurred movement and whispered promises and heart-wrenching sobs echoing around an airship cabin, and Imogen blinks them away as best as she can.
No, we’re not quite a thing, but we’re not not a thing, either, so please, please don’t think you can love her better than I can.
She knows only five or so seconds have passed but it feels like way too long and not enough at the same time. Five seconds isn’t nearly enough time to digest the question and decide hers and Laudna’s fate, but it’s probably enough of a pause for Dusk to get the answer they needed, and that thought terrifies Imogen the most because no, Dusk does not get to know how Imogen feels before Laudna does.
Gods, she needs more time. Please give her more time.
“Um…” She has to answer but she struggles to find a way to express everything she feels for Laudna, feeling so tired and overwhelmed by the onslaught of memories and feelings of love and jealousy and everything in between.
She has to answer, despite her mind telling her to just run. She has to say the one thing out loud that she has been trying to avoid for months now.
“No.”
Because no, they’re not a thing, not technically, and Imogen’s mind has been avoiding accepting that for so long now, on the off chance that Laudna does actually feel the same way she does.
“Okay!” Dusk fires back immediately, smiling and nodding and Imogen’s fist clenches around the pencil instinctively because how dare they smile when Imogen’s heart is about to crack in two? “Okay, cool. Okay.”
“Yeah.” She blinks and she nods and she hopes and prays Dusk doesn’t notice the way her voice cracks or the way her lip trembles.
“Yeah. Good!” She nods and smiles awkwardly. “Um, 'cause I was, you know, kinda getting some vibes and everything and I, um... you know.”
And Imogen nods because she does know, and she’s not an idiot. She knows what Dusk is insinuating. She’s seen how Laudna seems more touchy with them than with anyone else in the group. She’s seen the lingering looks they gave each other at the table in the tavern earlier. She knows Laudna has made herself comfortable in Dusk's mind, like she once felt in hers. She noticed how Laudna’s hand held onto Dusk’s for longer than normal when they were introducing themselves to each other. She knows her best friend and she knows that if she could’ve blushed when Dusk told her she had a warm heart, she would’ve.
And it breaks Imogen’s heart knowing that all it took was a fight between them for Laudna to move on so quickly. To replace her with a new bright and shiny person who talks openly about their feelings and says everything they feel; someone that Imogen could only dream to be.
“Yeah. I- I could see it.”
A thing, a thing, a thing, echoes around her brain, louder and louder.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Cool. Good talk!”
Dusk nods with finality and continues walking towards the group as Imogen stays back, the pep in her step a little bouncier, a little happier, a little more hopeful.
Imogen’s throat feels like it’s about to close up with how big the lump forming in it is and her head is pounding and she hopes — so, so badly, she hopes — that Laudna isn’t looking at her right now. She gulps, looks up at the sky and blinks the tears back.
She finally loosens her grip on the pencil and lets out a final shaky breath, before making her way over to her friends, avoiding the worried look Orym gives her.