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They are swaying, not entirely rhythmless, waves pulled by Cathra.
Imogen’s hand lays on her chest, fingers barely curled right above the ever slow beating of her heart, and it’s almost like the drowsy silly thing decides then to kick up in rhythm and reach back towards the warmth of life seeping through the barriers of skin, muscle and sinew. It’s almost like a calling. It’s almost like an awakening.
Laudna feels a sedative kind of exhilaration dawning on her, the urge to both run and collapse. The guilt and the pain that have been cutting through her for days finally letting up, finally silenced. It’s healing and inflaming all at the same time. They falter, mostly due to Laudna randomly going still while Imogen takes a step, and it’s her quiet laughter that pulls Laudna out of her head for a second.
“Welcome back,” Imogen’s voice is soft like a caress, like a promise. It might be what it is, there might be a promise there. “I thought I lost you again for a moment there,” Her finger comes to rest close enough to Laudna’s temple to convey a meaning. Lost in her thoughts, lost again. Far, far away… like clockwork, the muscles in Laudna’s throat tighten. She can tell, her eyes adjust perfectly to the surrounding darkness, that there are tears in Imogen’s own eyes when she looks up at her. There are tears, but Imogen is also smiling; brightly, honest, comforting.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” her hushed voice matches Imogen’s tone, not a hint of the sudden pressure around her vocal cords. Laudna throws a glance towards the fire, towards the others, needing to look away, to catch her breath. She catches a glimpse of Orym curling into a tighter ball against the back of Fearne’s knees. Chet seems to be mumbling something in his sleep. Ashton’s back is towards them, and FCG is right beside their sleeping form, doing their own version of resting. Everything is peaceful, just the way they left it. She finally finds the courage to meet the blinding honesty in Imogen’s face. “I’m right here now, you have my word.”
With the utmost gentleness, Laudna brushes the back of her fingers under Imogen’s right eye and can’t keep herself from searching, safe in the moonless night. There’s none of the mistrust and none of the resentment from days prior. Laudna knows better than to take it for granted, she knows better than to assume it’s all behind them. But this, she can work with. She will work on it; she will fix the cracks.
Imogen probably feels the start of another spiral, because there is no hesitation. In her mind, she hears Imogen’s voice. It’s an entire string of thought, it’s a feeling turned to words in a rushed, unrestricted way. Unrestricted isn’t something Imogen indulges in often, and there’s meaning to that too.
“I’m here. I’m with you. I love you. I’m not leaving.”
The words hold weight and had they been anyone else’s, they’d be crushing Laudna. But this is Imogen, this weight is just the right kind. It’s molten metal that doesn’t burn, but instead fills the cracks in her bones and solidifies. She feels the weight of the words settle over her like a blanket, reassuring and warm and oh so welcome.
“I’m yours. Stay. I love you.”
Laudna lets them sear themselves like a brand to the inside of her skull, lets them become a part of the very foundation of her being. The shield between the thing that punctures and the thing that brings comfort, and at the same time, a silken thread that keeps the gap between her fears and the deep need to prove her unconditionality adjoined. A gate and a bridge, all stone upon stone.
“As I do,” her voice is low and it trembles just a bit, but Laudna guesses that’s entirely acceptable all things considered. It’s important, however, that she voices it like this. It’s been put out there in the world for the first time, a newborn song among the chirps of the crickets and the rustle of leaves in the wind. It’s solid, real. It’s a promise of her own, one she will keep. Her hand cradles Imogen’s cheek reverently, and the slightly mismatched swaying resumes.
“Y’know… I had never felt jealousy quite like that before,” A startled dry laugh escapes Imogen’s lips and Laudna blinks owlishly, confused at the way the lilt of her voice turns towards darker territories. “I wanted to have Dusk—Yu’s eyes explode inside their orbits. I think it might’ve happened if I didn’t get distracted by something being hurled our way every so often. Near death experiences and such.” Her shoulders raise slightly and Laudna is about to open her mouth to comment on all of this brand-new information, but Imogen beats her to it with an embarrassed glance at where Laudna’s face must be. “But it was good, in the end. It helped me… think. Realize things, I guess.”
Laudna doesn’t give her body the explicit order to lean forward, and yet they are forehead to forehead. It’s a new dance, but it feels like her muscle memory is already trained, like something that’s inherently there and has only been let loose, free to roam.
“You know…” Laudna replies, mirroring the intention. “I didn’t know I wanted this,” her eyes look down at the point where they start touching and connecting. She decides to clarify, for Imogen’s sake. “This kind of closeness, the intimacy. Actually, I was positive I didn’t, I thought I wasn’t ready for any of that,” Imogen’s lips curl at the corner, Laudna catches it just in time before it’s gone. There’s some kind of victory to the tilt of it she’s not privy to, and it makes her curious but she doesn’t voice it this time. “I thought it wasn’t something I wanted, and I still don’t know if it’s—a smart choice of if I’m just being selfish about this—about us?”
The tone is equal measures hope and fear and Imogen feels her nerves flare up with the need to soothe and calm. It’s there in the way she tenses up. It’s there in the way her voice becomes steel. “You’re not being selfish, Laudna. I want us to be an us just as much. I understand where you’re coming from, but we’ll work out the kinks.”
Those being, the absolutely terrifying power-hungry third-wheeling asshole living somewhere in the recesses of Laudna’s brain. One of her hands falls to the pouch at her side, delves in against better judgment, feels the jagged edges of the two pieces of stone. Dull, dead, by her hand. It’s a process, and it must hurt before it scars, she tells herself. She remembers the burn of venom in Imogen’s words, allows herself to feel the pain once more, now that she doesn’t have to do it alone. Imogen is a buffer to the animosity of her own thoughts, her hand now on Laudna’s hip tethering her to reality.
Is it brutally selfish of her, making use of her presence to go through the worst bits of it? With Imogen here, redemption feels conquerable. The fingers curling around her hipbone ground her, the present affronted to what’s in the past. Can she really be trusted? Should she be making such promises when there’s no certainty that she will have the clarity to keep it? It has already hurt Imogen so much; Delilah has no qualms when it comes to taking. Laudna had foolishly thought there would be some kind of boundary she would respect, even if to preserve her host from completely falling apart. But Delilah hadn’t as much as hesitated when she had been presented with the chance to snatch the one thing that kept the most important person in Laudna’s life somewhat comforted, at the risk of breaking Laudna. The urge to apologize rises like bile to her throat but Imogen speaks up like she hears her thoughts, even though Laudna knows for a fact she hasn’t.
“Don’t you dare,” and the way she looks at her would have had Laudna folding in on herself if she weren’t slightly miscalculating the point where she’s supposed to look at. Against all odds, Laudna is laughing now too, and the smiles returns to Imogen’s lips before she leans on the tips of her toes to kiss her. They hold each other, lips pressed together and hearts soothed, for another small eternity.
“Maybe I could make us matching necklaces,” Laudna starts like they’ve been sharing a mind and Imogen has been running down the same thought pattern with her up until this point. Imogen, who has been trying to keep to herself, however, looks up in confusion. “With the stones,” Laudna clarifies, and Imogen snorts ungracefully.
“Yeah, that'd be wonderful,” she replies, amused. “For now, what would you say,” Her voice does that unusual thing where it becomes as thick and sweet as honey and Laudna can’t tell apart the many feelings it brings up in her, “if we took tonight for ourselves.” and now there’s some form of danger to the way her fingers creep up along Laudna’s faint pulse, along her throat, “for old time’s sake.”
Laudna’s keen eyes look between Imogen’s until they start lazily crawling towards a semi-secluded spot that’s close enough to the group for them to hear a call, but not for them to hear--
“Laudna," Imogen pulls her by the hand, and they could be both walking off the edge of the world tonight, "you’re thinking too loud.”
Laudna can't find it in herself to care about destinations.