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Imogen gave her a ring. A ring. Imogen. Gave her, gave Laudna. It was almost too much to wrap her mind around even though the proof was wrapped around her finger at that very moment. She told Imogen that she hadn’t accessed that part of her brain in nearly fifty years, but… If she was honest, she loved Imogen immensely; she was the most important person in her life. She would do anything to make sure she was safe and happy. She loved Imogen. Yes, in the best friend way, but also in the love-to-feel-your-skin-next-to-mine way. If she was honest. But she just got Imogen back, so she pushed that honesty to the backburner to bask in the warm glow of Imogen’s presence once more.
She really did try not to think too much about it, tried not to think of the ring as marking her as Imogen’s—and tried not to think how much it thrilled her to be thought of as Imogen’s, to be marked by her, to be loved so completely by her. The ring’s heavy weight around her finger felt like…
Like the weight of Imogen’s hands on her ribs as she steadied her in the middle of a scuffle. Or, like the weight of her hand on her waist or her hip as they settled into bed for the night in their room at Zhudanna’s. Her hands threaded through her hair. Her hands around her back, pulling her firmly against her in a tight, wonderfully long hug. Imogen’s hand resting high on her stomach as they slept.
Like Imogen’s breath ghosting over her shoulder or her neck as she slept, nightmare free and safe and sound. The even exhales were like waves on the coast at the same time they were rhythmic reminders that she was alive. Imogen was there, next to her, and that fact always sent electricity dancing up her spine.
Like Imogen’s eyes on her—warm, always warm, but sometimes… yearning? Maybe that part was just her imagination. Sometimes it was the weight of what her eyes didn’t say, what she wanted to say, what she held back, but more often than not it was the way her eyes fell onto Laudna like she was worthy. Imogen looked at her like she was someone worth looking at, someone beautiful and whole and entirely amazing.
Like Imogen’s voice in her mind, soft and musical, familiar and comforting. It was never intrusive, never unwanted, and Laudna always felt as if Imogen’s voice was the one voice she would wholeheartedly welcome inside her head. There were times she wished they could be that close always, their consciousnesses brushing up against one another like their physical bodies.
Like home.
It wouldn’t do to fling herself at the other woman now and burrow her face into her neck and openly weeping, but it’s what she wanted to do and a difficult impulse to control. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried about this race too. They would likely be separated from one another again, and it pulled at her very core like a physical wound. She just wanted to be with her all the time; was that so bad? Was that so difficult?
Laudna knew she couldn’t exist without Imogen. She knew it like she knew her own self. There would be nothing left of her if anything happened to the other woman. She would burn this city to the ground first, then the rest of Exandria afterward. Laudna as everyone knew her would cease to exist because there would be nothing worth coming back to. As her eyes met Imogen’s once more, the tension squeezing every fiber of her being lessened. Desperate to feel the warmth of her alive and well, to remind herself that she was there, she brushed the back of her hand against hers, sighing openly when Imogen slipped her hand into hers.
Are you okay, Laudna? she heard in her mind. She squeezed Imogen’s hand.
I am now; thank you.
The Bells Hells continued to plot with her contributing to the planning when necessary, but her memories slipped back a little further as she absentmindedly rubbed the ring with her thumb. Before Zhudanna. Before Jrusar.
It was a random night in the cooler months, and they had stopped to make camp in a clearing next to a shallow but beautiful lake. The campfire was burning low, dinner had been eaten already, and Imogen had set up their shared sleeping spread. Laudna remembered thinking about how lovely it was to watch the stars dance on the surface of the lake, but she also remembered thinking about the warm glow of the firelight illuminating Imogen’s face in an even lovelier way. She remembered just how beautiful she was sitting there on their shared blankets, head tilted back to look at the night sky to show the elegant slope of her neck. It was the first time her slow heartbeat picked up a bit; it wasn’t drastic enough to send her into an anxiety-induced panic, but it was enough for her to take notice—the moment it solidified that this woman was the most important person in her life, whose soul knew hers on a deeper level, her person.
Even though Laudna ran cool and the air was already uncomfortably crisp, Imogen had reached out to grasp at Launda’s hips and pull her back into her. Imogen tucked her head against her shoulder blades, kept her arms around her middle, and murmured sleepily into her back, unaware of the embers inside Laudna that now raged in a blaze of new knowledge. There, nestled together under the starlight somewhere in the world, Laudna knew she loved Imogen more than she had ever loved or would ever love anyone else.
I love you, you know, Laudna sent to Imogen. I’m glad we’re okay. I couldn’t stand it otherwise.
Imogen gave her the smile, the small secret smile that seemed only ever directed at her. I love you too, and I… I’m glad too. I can’t do this without you. Any of it.
Another squeeze of her hand pressed the ring into her fingers, and she would only ever be Imogen’s, Delilah be damned, however she would have her. She looked at Imogen’s face in profile, taking in the soft curves and hard angles of her features, and fought a smile. She would worship her if Imogen would let her. She told Ashton she would prostrate herself on a spiky rock and let Imogen step on her, and she stood by that. In any and all iterations, it was her and Imogen before anyone else, and this ring told her that maybe Imogen also felt similarly. Maybe not the same, but similarly.
Her mind wandered again, this time to their room at Zhudanna’s. It was affordable, yes, but also small and cozy and intimate. Things since joining Bells Hells moved so quickly, and she sometimes secretly missed the slower paced day-to-day routine they had before it all. There was an ease with which they slipped into bed together and met in the middle without a second thought, without any hesitation, because they knew they’d end up next to each other by morning’s light. Now, it seemed like there were always too many people in the room. She… She missed cuddling with Imogen, and only Imogen. Not that the others weren’t good cuddlers; it was just that sometimes she only needed Imogen and everyone else was suffocating all at once.
One time of very few times Laudna went to bed first, not long before Bells Hells, Imogen was helping Zhudanna with meal prep for the next day. It had been so difficult to fall asleep alone. The tiny bed felt vast and unyielding, but eventually she fell into a restless sleep until a warm body slid next to hers.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Imogen had whispered as she settled under their blanket.
“You didn’t, not really,” Laudna murmured, voice still thick with almost-sleep. “I wasn’t sleeping very well anyway.”
“Can’t sleep without me?” she teased.
“Something like that.”
Laudna’s eyes found Imogen’s in the dimness of their room; she was looking at her, fond, until her eyes fell somewhere around her chin. She watched the other woman’s mouth open and close a few times until she leaned in a little closer, causing Laudna’s slow-beating heart to quicken in her chest. Imogen’s lips brushed her cheek, and Lauda found herself grasping somewhat desperately Imogen’s shirt. One of them sighed, she wasn’t sure who, but Laudna tucked the other woman’s head into her neck, keeping a hand at the small of her back to press her nearer.
“Don’t go too far,” she said quietly.
“You can’t get rid of me that easy, Laudna.”
Now, back in the world of death wish races and danger, she prayed to whatever gods were listening that she and Imogen would make it through safe and sound. She prayed to whatever gods were listening that Imogen knew somewhere in her mind that when Laudna just said she loved her, she meant it. She really, really meant it. She rubbed the ring with her thumb again. Imogen had the whole of her, and she would wear this ring in this life and the next and whatever came after that. Their eyes caught and they shared smiles again; she’d missed her so much.
That same thing began repeating in her head again: Imogen gave her a ring. A ring. Imogen. Gave her, gave Laudna. A ring. A ring that she was wearing.
And: She loved her. She really, really did.