Work Text:
"hey marmar?"
marcy glances up at anne, who’s sitting in her bed draped in the blankets. marcy had been reading at anne's desk because it's become a favorite place of hers since the attack; she feels safer here, like there's less to catch her off guard. in a few months, this will become her permanent residence anyways, so really, what's the harm?
but anne is laying in her bed and in her pajamas, and though marcy usually turns to sasha for comfort at night, she can't resist the pull of anne's warmth, the way anne beckons her without a word and the way marcy follows easily, so easily. a dance only they know to a song only they can hear, just like it's always been.
anne beckons and marcy comes, setting her book down and smoothing out the folds of her tunic before sliding into the bed. she slots into anne's arms easily, and sighs something long and deep as she tucks her face into anne's chest.
"can I...?" anne trails off, but she's gently picking at the edge of marcy's gloves.
marcy swallows, but she nods, humming an affirmation.
anne picks at the gloves, and then she carefully tugs them off, gentle and slow. marcy doesn't really like looking at her hands anymore, but she bears it as anne sets the gloves aside, cupping marcy's hands with her own and lightly tracing the tendrils of magical burn scars that line her delicate palms and wrists.
there's a question brimming on the edge of anne's tongue, marcy can tell. she can read her best friend, longtime confidant and soon-to-be wife like an open book, or a piece of magical coding. "it was scary," she says aloud, her voice trembling in a way it hasn't since she was little.
she thought she had conquered most of her fears, but turning into something monstrous had shaken her to the bone, and she's still rebuilding her confidence, brick by brick by brick.
"the king never told me what I was working on, just that it would unlock some hidden knowledge. he used you as a threat against me, and it worked, because I'd do anything to keep you safe, even if it meant destroying myself." marcy closes her eyes before she can see the deep disapproval in anne's. "I didn't agree to host primal magic, though. he never told me that part, and I would've said no."
"it was scary for me, too," anne says, and she's still stroking marcy's hands in her own, delicately brushing against scar and skin alike. "I feared I had lost you long before, and it was like a burning hope, finding out you were alive but not yourself. I could only hope to catch it before the spark died completely and you were gone again."
"I'd never leave you for good, milady," marcy murmurs, deep and fond. "it'd take a lot more than some corrosive magic to get rid of me. I'm afraid you're as stuck with me as you've always been."
"what a heavy burden," anne teases, and they're both snickering.
when the laughter dies down, though, anne grows distant, pensive. she pauses her gentle rubbing of marcy's hands to squeeze them instead, and marcy doesn't have to be a genius to know what she's thinking.
"I'm right here, beloved," she whispers, and it has anne's gaze snapping to her. marcy pulls one of her hands away to lightly brush against anne's bangs, trailing alongside her jawbone, thumb brushing against her lips. "I'm right here, and I always will be. forever yours, that's what I promised, right?"
"forever mine," anne echoes, and then she finally smiles, and turns her cheek inwards to kiss marcy's hand, soft and tender. "I love you."
"I love you too," marcy grins and she nuzzles back into anne's chest, her arms drooping with the effort of holding them up. "feeling better?"
"loads, actually. thanks, marmar; you always know just what to say."
"I just know you too well, I think. you're the only one that I can read accurately; sasha just throws things at me if I'm mushy at the wrong times."
anne snorts, and she's leaning inwards to rest her head on top of marcy's own, curling tighter against her. "well, I appreciate it. now sleep: we have a long day of planning ahead of us tomorrow."
"yes ma'am," marcy agrees, and she giggles as anne playfully swats her. it’s comforting, the way she can fully embrace the intensity of her own feelings now, the way she’s always felt so guilty for sleeping curled up in anne’s arms before but feels none of that guilt now.
tomorrow, she’ll have to face her troubles and her worries and all of the work she has to catch up on head-on, but for now? despite it all, despite the hard conversation and the way the past finds ways to remind her of its sharp thorns, she is in anne’s arms, and she never wants to leave.
(later, much later, the door slips open and shut, and sasha joins them in the bed, immediately sinking against marcy’s back with a tired sigh, and marcy has never felt more complete in her entire life).