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the pitch of your pining

Summary:

"Please, Harrow. Stay here. Rest. Let the Sixth poke and prod you, just a little bit," pleaded Gideon. She swallowed, and added in a whisper, "For me."

[Nova AU: the post-avulsion trial scene]

Notes:

A few notes about this version of the Nova AU:
- 200 children are still sacrificed for Harrow's birth, but she doesn't become a necromancer
- it does, however, make her curiously death-resistant
- after Nova is officially made cavalier, she becomes obsessed with the Reverend Daughter (bc she doesn't have Alecto and her devotion needs to go somewhere)
- Gideon uses Nova's 'love' to manipulate her

Happy Valentines Day!!

Work Text:

Nova had only a fleeting awareness of the trip that she and Gideon made from the basement to the Ninth quarters. Any part of her body that wasn't in pain seemed to be afflicted by numbness, and her ears perceived a constant ringing noise that she was certain originated from within her own skull. How Gideon managed to support her the entire way back to their rooms, she wasn't sure, but Nova was deeply relieved to find herself being lowered onto the cavalier bed during one of the times that she was somewhat conscious. It was much softer than the little cot in her cell back on the Ninth and its decadence had originally disturbed her, but now she was grateful to sink into it, lax and boneless.

Nova drifted off again, but she jerked awake when she felt the touch of someone else's bare skin on her jaw. She flinched away from the Reverend Daughter's hand, groaning when the sudden movement rewarded her with a fresh wave of pain.

"It's just me," said Gideon, utilizing the low, soothing tone that she affected when speaking to the old and infirmed back home.

"I know it's you," retorted Nova, pushing her hand away. Speaking made her head pound, so she continued more quietly, "Fuck off."

Gideon ignored her and returned to touching Nova's face with a cool, damp cloth, which was slightly more tolerable. She cleaned away the blood crusted around her nose, mouth, ears, the corner of her eyes. A tremor went through Gideon's hand, and Nova cracked one of her void black eyes open and smirked at her.

"Did I scare you, Reverend Daughter?"

"Yes," said Gideon, solemn and unashamed. "I don't want you to die in this place, Nova. Not here, and not for me."

Nova grimaced. She caught Gideon's wrist and pushed her hand away again. "It is a cavalier's purpose and honor to die for their necromancer."

"Which is an attitude that you've adopted only very recently, and one that I wish you would be rid of," scoffed Gideon. She was sitting on the floor next to Nova's bed, and she sagged against it when she sighed wearily. "You're no good to me, or the Ninth House, if you get killed in the necromantic equivalent of a fucking air fryer."

"It is fine. I am fine. Your fretting is for nothing."

"You're not– "

"This was only number fifty-eight." Nova frowned, attempted and failed to do math, and shrugged weakly. "Or sixty-five. Either way, I should have at least one hundred and thirty-five deaths left to give."

Gideon hurled the wet cloth across the room in a sudden fit of anger. "Conjecture and speculation! We don't know for sure that it's a one-to-one ratio. This time was really horrible, so what if that counts as, like, ten souls? Maybe that's not even how it works. What are all of these trials even for? What am I supposed to–"

Gideon cut herself off and inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. She let it out slowly. Nova watched her curiously, but closed her eyes when Gideon turned to look at her again.

"Will you remain here and rest if I leave you alone for a bit? I'm going to ask the Sixth to have a look at you."

"The Sixth!" balked Nova. She glared at Gideon as though she were being purposely dense. "And what if they should discover something of the Ninth's sins?"

"It's only medical science. They're just going to have a look at your meat, not check you for extra ghosts. If I wanted that, I'd have handed you over to the Fifth."

They both fell quiet, thinking of the slain Fifth. Gideon made a decision that she knew she'd have to conduct penance for later, and she reached for Nova's hand, holding it with both of her own. She didn't let go when Nova tried to pull away, not even when her cavalier's face flushed with embarrassment underneath the ruined skull paint.

"Please, Harrow. Stay here. Rest. Let the Sixth poke and prod you, just a little bit," pleaded Gideon. She swallowed, and added in a whisper, "For me."

Nova gave her a hard look, then lowered her eyes in deference. "For you, my Lady."

Gideon nodded, but before she could move away, Nova grabbed the front of her robe and pulled her close. Gideon couldn't help the small sound that escaped her throat when they kissed. Nova's lips were dry and cracked, and she tasted like blood and paint. When she loosened her grip on the robe, Gideon drew back and saw that her expression was more relaxed, her black eyes softer.

The Reverend Daughter left the Ninth quarters, refreshing the bone ward on the entrance just in case. The hall was cool and dark, without another soul in sight. Gideon leaned her back against the corridor wall and slid down it, until she was sitting in a puddle of black fabric on the floor.

"It'll be alright," Gideon lied to herself. She hugged her knees to her chest, making herself as small as possible. Her heart was hurting keenly. "This will keep her safe. We'll figure it out later. Keep her safe, make sure she stays alive."

A few deep breaths later, and it was the Reverend Daughter who rose once again, striding quickly and purposely through the halls of Canaan House.