Chapter Text
Heading your way, Laudna hears in her head. She lets out a sigh of relief, finally allowing herself to lean against the bed rather than pace the length of the room like she has been for the last half-hour.
“Please stay safe!” Laudna barely spares the room a fleeting glance before she rushes out and down the hallway to where the stairs are. “We’ll be down by the bar when you get back.” She doesn’t bother waiting for a response, and instead follows the stairs to the tavern. Though the room is dimly lit at the late hour, Laudna easily spots Ashton’s crystal hair and Fearne’s horns.
“Imogen said she’s on her way back,” Laudna announces to the table with only a hint of flair, her nerves getting the better of her. She quickly takes a seat next to Chetney, her hands grabbing an untouched tankard she assumes is for her, if only to have something to occupy her hands.
Ashton and Fearne share a look, while Chetney lets out a whistle.
“Two hours? Didn’t know she had that kind of stamina.”
Laudna smacks him, completely offended at the insinuation. She thoroughly ignores the burning feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one that makes her yearn for something she doesn’t quite understand.
“Chetney! Don’t be rude.” Laudna crosses her arms. "Imogen grew up riding horses and working on a farm! She's bound to have plenty of stamina."
"Sure," Ashton interrupts. "But riding horses is different from riding people." They take a sip of their drink. "I would know."
Laudna sputters, unable to form words as the rest of the table erupts in laughter and heated arguments about what the difference really is between the two things. Instead, Laudna is completely ensnared in a sudden visual of Imogen riding a horse, the recent memory of their trip to the Heartmoore melding with the memory of their first meeting. Imogen had been her knight in shining armor that day, but Laudna never gave much thought to how her body moved as she rode through the group and dismounted before dispelling the lot of them.
Now, it's nearly impossible to forget the way her hip rolled, and Laudna is startled when she starts to think of Imogen's hips rolling in an entirely different context. The image is so surprising and sudden that Laudna lets out an especially high-pitched squeak.
Fearne’s ear twitches, a bemused smile adorning her lips as she locks eyes with Laudna. “Is something wrong?”
Throat suddenly dried, Laudna chokes on whatever words might have escaped without her approval. She takes a sip of her ale, hoping it’ll give her enough time to come up with a suitable excuse. Unfortunately, much to her horror, Pâté takes it upon himself to give voice to the raging storm of emotions and mental images she can’t seem to push down.
“Laudna ‘ere is just thinkin’ about that broad ridin’ Imogen.”
Though she’s never been religious, Laudna thanks whatever god is listening that she doesn’t spit out or choke on her drink. All eyes fall on the frazzled woman, who in turn quickly slams her tankard onto the table before grabbing Pâté and shoving him back into her hair, her face as warm as it’s ever been. Gods, I hope this isn’t how I find out that I can, in fact, still blush.
“Pâté is just being silly,” she rushes out, her voice cracking a bit at the end. “I wasn’t thinking about Imogen or that secretary woman at all!”
Chetney and Orym share a look, while Fearne and Ashton just smirk at her. Letters seems to be the only one to accept her words at face value. Before they can question her further, Laudna stands up, nearly upending her chair. Miraculously, she doesn’t spill the rest of her drink. Anxiety and embarrassment mix with some other dark and clawing emotion, filling her chest until all she wants to do is escape.
“I’m just going to put Pâté to bed and then I’ll be right back!”
Laudna doesn’t wait for anyone to respond, and instead rushes up to her room. She lets out a sigh of relief when no one seems to follow her. Once she’s safely back in her room, Laudna makes sure the door is locked before moving Imogen’s pack from the bed to the dresser. She doesn’t waste another moment before throwing herself back onto the mattress with a groan, hands pressing into her eyes. Well that was embarrassing.
Pâté chooses that moment to crawl out of Laudna’s hair, his wings flapping as he gently settles atop her chest. “What’s wrong, Laudna?”
She pulls her hands away, tilting her head to look at her longest friend. After a moment, Laudna sits up, her hands cradling Pâté in her lap. She looks at him for another moment before letting out a wet laugh, her head shaking as she tries to blink back tears she can’t explain.
“What was that all about? Downstairs?” Laudna strokes his head. “Why did you tell everyone?”
Pâté cocks his head to the side, confusion radiating through their shared bond. Such a strange feeling, though not unlike what I’ve felt with Imogen.
“I don’t understand,” he mutters. “You usedsta talk through me all th’ time, love. Why’s it bad when I do it meself?”
Laudna stares down at him, her mind a tangled mess of thoughts she can’t quite discern. It was easier when Delilah haunted her mind, when she could blame her confusing and conflicting thoughts on her influence. Now, she doesn’t even know where her thoughts come from. How many are her own, and how many are thoughts she’s repressed throughout the year? How many were planted before Delilah was supposedly defeated, and how many have always been there?
And how can I be sure that these thoughts aren’t secretly her doing? None of us know for sure if she was truly banished from my mind. She could still be here, lurking and waiting for another moment to manipulate me into doing her bidding or harming my friends.
“Oi!” Laudna flinches back into her body when Pâté taps on the spot in between her eyes. “Anybody home?”
She lets out another sigh before falling back onto the bed, Pâté held aloft in her hands. “I just don’t know what’s going on with me, Pâté. I’ve never had those sorts of thoughts before.”
Pâté chuckles, breaking free of her grasp to hover right above her face. “You know that’s not true, love.” He lands next to her head, forcing Laudna to shift onto her side to look at him comfortably. “If that were true, you never woulda given me this voice or made me the randy bastard that I am!”
Laudna shakes her head, a hand reaching out to trace one of his grotesque wings. “I made you as a friend, and to annoy Delilah. I tried out so many voices, and this one pissed her off the most.”
If a skull could frown, Laudna is sure Pâté would be scowling. “Excuse you! I think you meant you chose the best voice you could do, an’ yous was so lonely that you made me randy so you wouldn’t have ta be.”
“Pâté!” Laudna sits up, her hand clutching at her chest. “You’re being so rude tonight.”
Her little friend grumbles as he flaps his wings enough to get eye-level with Laudna. “An’ you don’t want to admit that yer horny for sweet Imogen like I am for me own woman!”
With a loud gasp, Laudna grabs Pâté and pulls him in. “If you can’t be polite, then I think you need a time out!” With a quick mutter under her breath, Laudna dispels Pâté with a poof.
Laudna feels his absence immediately. Her subtle mental connection to him falls completely silent and she’s alone for the first time since they got to Yios. Fuck, Laudna curses herself. Without Imogen, she’s truly isolated in her own mind. While her girl was initially concerned about Laudna feeling crowded, they came to an agreement early on that Laudna preferred to have company as she adjusted to her newfound freedom from Delilah. It made her feel more tethered to the world, more real. If someone else was there to witness her thoughts, then they actually meant something. It gave her a sense of protection from darker influences, and some reassurance that she wasn’t a monster. Here in this moment, Laudna can’t stop herself from spiraling.
Is he right? Did I create Pâté to annoy Delilah, or to give myself something to project onto? It’s been so long since I first made him, I can’t imagine any other personality. He’s been alive in my mind all this time, even before he became sentient. I’ve always thought of him as separate from myself. But what if he’s telling the truth? Am I truly lusting after my best friend and just haven’t noticed it? Imogen is incredibly beautiful, and I’ve never denied that fact. If I were attracted to her in that way, wouldn’t I have thought of her like that before? Why is it only now that I’m imagining her in compromising positions?
A knock on her door startles Laudna out of her tumultuous thoughts. She jumps from the bed and hurries to the door, yanking it open without any hesitation.
“Hey,” Ashton says with a small wave.
“Oh,” Laudna utters with surprise. “Hello, Ashton. Would you like to come in?” She opens the door further, gesturing for him to come in.
Ashton raises their hand and shakes their head, a small frown pulling at their lips. “Nah, just wanted to make sure you were ok.”
Laudna tilts her head perhaps a bit too far, her lips pursing as she subtly gathers some shadows around her. “I’m fine, but thank you for checking.”
The earth genasi doesn’t seem to notice her shadows, though he continues to study her for a minute longer before speaking again. “Alright. I’m sure Imogen will be back soon though, and I figured you wouldn’t want to miss it.”
At the sound of Imogen’s name, Laudna perks up unintentionally. She searches her mind for the familiar buzzing that accompanies Imogen's presence. Her heart sinks with disappointment when she doesn't find anything of the sort.
Ashton frowns, catching her attention. While he is prone to frowning in general, the last time he had frowned at her was right before she died. Laudna decides she doesn't particularly enjoy the feeling it inspires within her.
"You good?"
Laudna nods immediately, unbothered by the lie she implies. Better to let him think I'm fine. They've worried over me enough. And besides, I've had enough difficult conversations for tonight. A twinge of guilt runs down Laudna's spine at Pâté's absence, but she can't quite find any regret. Brushing the feeling aside, Laudna smiles widely at Ashton.
"Let's head down before she gets back."
Ashton continues to frown, the expression sending pinpricks of discomfort along the back of Laudna's neck, but he doesn't say anything else. He simply steps aside and gestures for the older woman to walk down the hall first.
Laudna slinks down the stairs and creeps up to the table her friends are still at. With barely any effort, she manages to slip into her spot with little notice, and she throws Ashton a grateful smile when they say nothing to alert the table either.
They don’t have to wait very long before Imogen steps shyly into the tavern.
Like she knew they would, the group descends upon Imogen like a pack of wolves the moment she passes the threshold. Laudna stays back at their table, something fracturing within and cementing her to her spot.
I should make sure she's ok, she thinks briefly before dismissing the thought. While she'd normally be the first to check up on her friend, tonight she almost doesn't want to know how Imogen is doing. And I certainly don't want to know what she's done. Once more, a burning sensation swirls in Laudna's stomach, bile splashing the back of her throat with the many, many, visuals that come to her mind of Imogen and that hussie getting to know each other in ways Laudna could only ever dream of.
She startles, nearly tipping over her drink. What the fuck is going on with me tonight?
Laudna doesn't have much time to ponder her rather questionable thoughts before Imogen is ushered to the table and sat in her designated seat to Laudna's left. They only barely make eye contact before Laudna finds herself looking away, the usual act somehow too intense for her at the moment.
"So," Ashton starts with a slap of their hand on the table. "You didn't go to the theater."
Imogen shakes her head, her cheeks a vibrant red that makes her look entirely too adorable. In the same instance, it sends jagged icicles of dread through Laudna's blackened veins, though she's unable to discern exactly why. After all, she thinks to herself. I knew what she might do, and she told me she wouldn’t be forced into anything. Whatever happened, she clearly wanted.
She tries not to dwell on the rush of anger and sadness that wrap around her heart at the thought. Unfortunately, Ashton doesn't let her.
"What'd you do that bought us two whole hours of time for the heist?"
Laudna clenches her jaw involuntarily.
"Which we didn't need," Chetney grumbles, though he's got a shit eating grin on his gnarled face.
Imogen's eyebrows raise in surprise, her eyes finding Orym's when Laudna can't bring herself to meet the younger woman's gaze. "When'd y'all get here?"
Laudna fidgets with her hair.
"We've been here for at least half an hour."
If possible, Imogen's face grows even more red, and Laudna is sure the heat of her cheeks would warm her entire hand should she reach out and cup it. She doesn't move, and watches in twisted fascination as Imogen drops her head to the table with a loud thunk. She mumbles something under her breath, but no one is able to catch what she says.
"Speak up," Chetney commands with annoyance. "Some of us don’t have young ears like you."
Imogen lifts her head up from the table, pulling her hair back in the process as she readies a retort.
Laudna has no idea what she says next, her entire focus on the hideous bruise nearly hidden under Imogen's bandana. It takes a moment for her to realize it's a hickey resting at the juncture of Imogen's neck and shoulder, a deep purple one with discernable tooth marks. An unfamiliar swell of emotion crashes through Laudna in waves, knocking her breath out and leaving her clenching at her skirt for dear life. She can hear the rest of the group talking, can see Imogen's mouth moving as she answers whatever probing question their friends have, but nothing makes it through the sound of her sluggish pulse pounding in her ears.
A touch on her arm finally brings her out of her daze. Laudna looks down, her eyes registering the brown leather of Imogen’s gloves. She tugs her arm away, the touch suddenly too much and not enough at the same time.
I need to get out of here.
Laudna only briefly catches the hurt expression on Imogen’s face as she addresses the group.
“I’m not feeling well,” she mumbles, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. “I think I'll just head to bed now. Goodnight everyone.”
Without waiting for a response, Laudna escapes from the table and makes her way to her room as quickly as she is able to without looking like she’s running away.
She doesn’t breathe until she’s back in her room, though her relief only lasts for a few seconds until she spots Imogen’s pack resting on the dresser, exactly where she placed it earlier.
Fuck, Laudna curses loudly in her mind, unwilling to break the stillness of the air. She leans against the door, unable to look away from the pack.
How could I forget? It's not like I didn't see the blasted thing earlier. Fuck. How the fuck am I supposed to sleep next to her? I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now!
Laudna fights the urge to summon Pâté, still too upset at his uncouth behavior to risk talking to him about her feelings.
He might get the wrong idea.
With a frustrated sigh, Laudna pushes her feelings down and sets about getting ready for bed. She changes into her smallclothes, doing her best to ignore Imogen’s things as she does. When she finishes with her nightly routine of rubbing some herbal salve onto her aching joints, Laudna turns down the bed and settles under the rather thin blankets.
For an endless moment, Laudna closes her eyes and forces herself to breathe.
It's only been half an hour, and I'm sure the others will want to know all the details of their…. tryst. Laudna clenches her jaw, her teeth grinding at the thought of all the wicked things that harlot did to her Imogen.
My Imogen? Really, Laudna. Get a hold of yourself. She's not yours.
Laudna gasps, her entire chest seizing at the thought, a sharp and deadly coolness crawling between every rib before wrapping around her heart.
Mine.
The thought reverberates through Laudna's skull, knocking against memories she cherishes above so many others.
Imogen, holding her hand out to Laudna, asking her if she was alright.
Imogen, defending her from the mob, suggesting they leave town and travel together.
Imogen, holding onto her for dear life after her first nightmare on the road, the first night they spent together and the last night they slept apart (until the gnarlrock incident, of course).
Laudna replays each memory, searching for something to fight against the feeling in her chest.
But she is mine. Laudna clutches at her nightshirt, remembering suddenly that it once belonged to Imogen. She is my friend. She is my person. Should she ever decide to pursue someone romantically, she will still be mine. Just as I am hers.
Laudna abruptly sits up, her eyes opening to gaze at Imogen's pack on the dresser. Her clenched hand loosens, and she absentmindedly rubs the fabric between her fingers. Imogen very well may have fallen in love with Maria, but she loved me first. Even if Imogen gets married someday, I will always be someone important to her.
Memories of the gnarlrock resurfaced, once a source of indescribable pain, now proof that their relationship could survive even the most brutal of betrayals. She forgave me after everything, and braved my worst nightmares all so she could have me back at her side. Laudna looks down at the red thread tied around her wrist, unmoved since Imogen first placed it there after her nightmare in the Hartmoore. Imogen is my first love in unlife, and I will not let some random woman make me feel lesser in Imogen's life for having loved her carnally.
For a moment, Laudna almost accepts the words, yet she can’t help the way her fist clenches, nor the way her conviction fractures at the pain she still feels. Her eyes squeeze shut as her hands tangle in her hair, a loud groan of frustration escaping unbidden. Why does it still hurt?
Though she tries her best, Laudna can’t stop herself from imagining Imogen and the secretary, her anger flaring at the thought of what might have transpired. Full scenes play out behind her eyelids, each more explicit than the last. She watches as Imogen is ravaged, her head thrown back in ecstasy and crying out a foreign name. Her teeth audibly snap together at the glimpse of Maria biting and sucking on Imogen's neck before moving even lower. Laudna feels held captive as she watches the scene progress, Maria’s bruising mouth scorching Imogen’s chest and leaving a smattering of scratches and bites down the younger woman’s soft stomach. She nearly cries out as Maria settles between Imogen’s supple thighs, her vile hands yanking down Imogen’s underwear as she leans forward, her cruel lips brushing where Laudna so desperately—
Knock, knock.
“Laudna?”
As quickly as she can, Laudna throws herself back, pulling the threadbare blanket over her trembling body and turning away from the door. With a brief scan, she knows Imogen’ hasn’t been in her head, and thus hasn’t seen the vulgar and inappropriate thoughts she was undoubtedly projecting loudly. Immediately, she distances herself from the blasphemous thoughts as a wall forms between herself and the untoward images she was so repulsively allowing herself to indulge in. Like a gardener tending an unruly field, Laudna plucks every unsavory thought and casts them to the other side of her mental wall, sealing them away. When she is sure the last stone has been set, Laudna realizes that she still has to respond somehow.
Imogen has told me I sound different when I’m asleep, so there’s no point trying to pretend.
Laudna sighs quietly, her hand once again clutching the fabric of her shirt in a death grip. Resignation fills her empty chest cavity, and Laudna forces herself to lay on her back. Can’t let her think I’m hiding from her. She doesn’t bother waiting much longer before responding.
“Come in.”
After a few excruciating moments, Imogen shyly opens the door, her head popping in to look in the room. Laudna doesn’t look away, and instead offers a small smile. Wouldn’t want her to think I’m upset with her.
Imogen doesn’t move for a second, clearly examining the room. Laudna silently studies the younger woman as she finally steps past the threshold, her movements stilted and upsettingly unsure.
Look what you’ve done, Laudna admonishes herself. You’ve made her uncomfortable. Do something to fix it.
Though she knows Delilah is long gone, Laudna obeys the voice in her head all the same.
“Come to bed, darling.”
Laudna grimaces when Imogen flinches, her soul cursing the pain she unintentionally caused her dearest friend. She gingerly sits up, her eyes remaining on Imogen’s angelic form as she does. Thankfully, the movement doesn’t further startle the younger woman who watches on, unmoving.
“I’m sure you’ve had a long day,” Laudna whispers. She refuses to allow herself to consider why.
Imogen nods, her shoulders sagging.
Laudna pulls back the cover and pats the empty space beside her. “Come to bed.”
Though she still looks hesitant, Laudna’s frigid heart warms when the younger woman begins shucking off her boots and turns towards her own pack to get her sleepwear. Laudna stares unabashedly at Imogen the entire time, cold hurt raging against burning love within her ribcage. The wall she constructed earlier threatens to crumble down, but Imogen’s inquisitive eyes deter that line of thinking.
"Where's Pâté?"
Laudna flinches, the shame and guilt tightening around her throat, stealing what little air she had remembered to take in like the once-familiar noose. She looks down, fighting to swallow down her feelings, her hands beginning to shake in her effort to keep from clawing at her neck.
"Laudna?"
Imogen's warm body appears right next to Laudna, her beautifully marred hands encasing Laudna's skeletal ones. She rubs against the prominent bones, bringing a semblance of life back into them. The repetitive gesture soothes Laudna, her entire body beginning to relax.
"You ok?"
The question sounds different coming from Imogen, and Laudna appreciates that she knows exactly what it means to come from her greatest friend.
Laudna lets out a small puff of air. "Pâté was being rude earlier, so I poofed him."
She says it with a sardonic smile, her shoulder lifting involuntarily in a half-shrug. Imogen's eyes grow wide and Laudna knows she has successfully distracted Imogen to the other, very real problem the night has brought.
"How long've you been alone, honey?"
Laudna leans back, her gaze pointed upwards at the ceiling, though she doesn't bother taking any of the cracks or stains in.
"Not very long," she assures, trying to put a little jovial lilt into her words. "Perhaps an hour now."
Laudna looks back at Imogen, her brittle smile crumbling to dust when she takes in Imogen's worried gaze and concerned frown.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” Imogen whispers as she looks down at their joined hands.
Laudna knows from experience that Imogen wants to pull away, but she selfishly doesn’t want the younger woman to leave again. Before she can pull away, Laudna turns their hands so that she’s the one holding Imogen’s. She doesn’t bother looking up as she plays with their matching red bracelets, knowing that Imogen is watching her.
“You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”
Laudna looks up again, her heart thudding just a beat faster than normal when she sees the gentle look Imogen has on her face. She hates that the hurt and betrayal she feels doesn’t fade, even in this moment of tenderness.
“You wanna talk about it?” Imogen asks softly. “Was it scary bein’ alone in there?” She taps on the side of Laudna’s head, frowning when the older woman doesn’t laugh like she would usually.
She’s catching on. Can’t let her know I’m still upset, even if it pains me to lie to her. A darker thought pops up, one that Laudna doesn’t have the energy to fight.
At least this time I’d actually be lying, unlike on that first skyship trip.
Laudna pushes the thoughts down enough that Imogen can’t hear without probing, her mask slowly but steadily falling into place.
“I suppose it was more unsettling than anything else. It’s been many decades since I’ve had my mind all to myself, and it was rather lonesome without you or Pâté to keep me company.”
Of course, none of this would have happened if Imogen hadn’t gone on that fucking date.
Laudna startles from the bitter thought, her anxiety spiking at the notion that it might have been loud enough for Imogen to pick up on. When the other sorceress doesn’t respond outside of mild concern, Laudna allows herself to relax once more.
“Sorry,” she whispers sheepishly. “I thought I heard something.”
Imogen nods, her eyes soft with worry. “Do you want me in there until Pâté’s done bein’ in time out?”
Once more, Laudna feels a flare of panic at the suggestion. Can’t let her hear anything right now. I don’t want to keep feeling this hurt and anger, but I know I can’t keep it hidden from Imogen if she’s in my fucking brain.
“Oh,” she says rather shakily, “I think I’d like to try spending the night alone in my mind. It might be better while there’s not much of a threat, you know?”
Laudna’s stomach churns when Imogen’s brow furrows, but the younger woman simply nods in acquiescence.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with, Laud.” Imogen leans back, settling into bed.
Laudna follows her lead, allowing her hand to stay held between both of Imogen’s. Once they’re both settled, Imogen snuffs out the candle with her magic before squeezing Laudna’s hand. They both know she can see perfectly in the dark, and Laudna would never deny Imogen when she clearly has something to say. When she’s sure Laudna is looking at her, Imogen speaks up.
“You wake me up if you need me, ok?”
Without any hesitation, Laudna squeezes Imogen’s hand back. “Of course, darling.”
With a satisfied nod, Imogen lays flat on her back, moving her hair to the side. “I’m here with you, Laudna. Don’t forget that.”
Imogen falls asleep soon thereafter, but Laudna feels her entire body ignite with that same pain when she sees the hickey on full display, right next to her face.
Fuck my unlife, Laudna sighs quietly, already anticipating a sleepless night.