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Healing magic is a commodity that Imogen and Laudna could not access on the road. And healing potions are a luxury they certainly cannot afford. So after a nasty incident with an opportunist mugger on the side of the road left Imogen with some nasty gashes, Laudna has no choice but to go out and purchase a healer’s kit somewhere and hurry back to their campsite to suture the nasty wound on Imogen’s thigh.
Imogen grunts and grumbles her way through it all, going over the fight like it was a bit of military strategy. Laudna is used to this by now and it makes her smile as she cleans the cut and carefully, artfully stitches her wound.
She sits patiently and listens as Imogen continues talking. It didn't used to be like this. Imogen was shy at first but something about the way Laudna looked at her and spoke to her and listened, really listened, invited Imogen to express herself more openly.
“I’m sorry, I'm just rambling,” she shakes her head.
“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Laudna observes. She says it tenderly and Imogen falters. She has this knack for catching her off guard with her kindness, and for all of Laudna’s eccentricities, she feels this is the one she might never get used to. She twists the hem of her dress between her fingers anxiously.
“Come here,” Laudna murmurs, taking a cloth and wetting it before dabbing Imogen’s bloodied brow. She flinches and Laudna cradles her jaw to hold her still. “I know it's no fun, but you have to let me clean it, dear.”
“I had him, I-”
“I know you did,” Laudna responds.
“He was just bein’ such a-” Imogen hisses as Laudna applies ointment to the cut.
“A prick?” Laudna supplies.
“Yeah.” Imogen huffs.
“Well, I'm just glad we’re both in one piece.”
Imogen feels a hint of guilt creep into her chest then. She had been the one to get combative with the mugger by the side of the road.
“I’m not blaming you for the scuffle, Imogen, let me be clear.” Laudna adds, sensing Imogen’s shift in demeanour. There it is again. That attentiveness that keeps surprising her.
“I-”
“You saved us from having our stuff nicked. You did well.” Imogen’s cheeks heat at the gentle praise. Something warm tugs inside Imogen's chest. “I just don't want you to get hurt.” Laudna tilts Imogen’s chin so their gazes meet. They watch each other for a long agonising moment. The air thickens around them as they study each other carefully. This is not the first time in recent weeks they have found themselves balancing on the edge of something deeper and more intimate. They both know it, but they're both stubborn, too.
“I'm fine, Laud,” Imogen mumbles, only half focused as her eyes drop to Laudna’s lips.
“You could have lost an eye,” Laudna says, like the very thought might make her fall apart.
“But I didn't,” Imogen argues, shuffling forward again, closer to Laudna.
“It was risky.”
“Won't happen again,” Imogen promises, her voice dropping to match Laudna’s quiet pitch. They're practically nose to nose now and all it would take for their lips to touch would be for Laudna to give a gentle tug to Imogen’s jaw. Laudna takes the opportunity to make an attempt at being bold.
“Imogen, I-” she begins but no more words come.
“Yes?”
“I- erm,” Laudna swallows loudly and Imogen briefly wonders how it would feel to have her lips on Laudna’s throat. How her skin might taste. “We should get some rest.” She runs her thumb over Imogen’s cheek once before withdrawing her hand, getting up and turning away.
Imogen wants to grab her hand and pull her down into her lap and kiss her out of pure frustration. But she doesn't, because she'd rather keep doing this dance. For now at least.