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Its peaceful tonight; too peaceful?
Never. She’d have never thought she could get used to this kind of life a decade ago – even five years ago. But domestic bliss was something she found herself having grown into well three years in. Sitting comfortably within their Zadash living room on the already well-worn floral pattered chair, sipping generously from the glass of Lionett wine Beau’s mother had ‘supplied’ them with, Yasha Nydoorin let the blissful mundanity of the day wash over her with the heat of the crackling fire burning close by.
Beau was sprawled in her chair across the room; one of those nights where she didn’t want to be winding down directly with her – her own glass balanced on a knee as she idly skimmed one of her many research journals.
Here within the near silence of the oil lamp lit room, life was complete.
And then it was that their rug was suddenly awash in pale light, as Catha far beyond them was unveiled from its cloud cover. A completely normal enough occurrence, except… why did she suddenly feel the urge to sweep Beau out of her chair, glass be damned, and spin her around like an idiot?
Intrusive ideas were not a stranger, she’d certainly had plenty of bad ones; try to catch a person shooting up an up-stream, rage-kicking a magic realms magic door open, Confessing your love to someone on the first date – okay, that one definitely wasn’t a bad idea in her experience.
Regardless of the maybe-maybe-not bad ideas, the mental image of the pair had now stuck fast into her mind, the moonlight in her vision beckoning its resplendent dancers to the spotlight. Yup, she’s doing it – ‘sorry chair, you are about to be covered in wine.’
Yasha’s just setting her own glass down -no need to ruin both chairs when they’ll need at least one- and getting up when as quickly as it came, their beckon moves on back behind the clouds.
Her momentum leaves all at once, half stood with the beginning of one of her domestic life staple ‘let’s do something dumb together, baby’ smiles on her lips and instead, she sinks back into the chair with a soft “Oh.”
“Was-sup’ Yash?” The curious voice of her girlfriend breaks the quiet. Yasha’s gaze snaps up to meet Beau inquisitive gaze, the previously balanced glass now securely in her hand.
The retired barbarian felt her cheeks begin to match the wine in response before she explained, “Well, the moonlight was just lighting up the rug and I was struck thinking how nice it’d be to just, I don’t know why, but dance in it.” She explained, sinking just a little further into the plush.
She watched as her Expositor cocked her head, just a little bit, in thought, “By yourself?” she asked after a moment.
The paler women could swear she felt the blush deepening, “Well no - with you of course.”
“Alright then, let do it.” She readily agrees.
Kord bless this wonderful woman and her habit of agreeing with just about anything that she suggested. Beau’s already setting down the glass and straightening up her loungewear in the minute Yasha’s admiring her.
“Not just yet, when or if the moon comes back out.” Yasha delays as Beau makes to approach her.
She takes a step back in response, feeling just a little awkward now, “Oh, ok… erm, should we dim the lights maybe?” she suggests.
Yasha beams at the mental image that plays in response and it’s her turn to bounce out of the chair towards the nearest of the lanterns. Taking her actions as response, Beau quickly darts to follow suit and in not but a few more moments is the rooms sole dominant light source the fires crackling embers.
It takes a few more minutes of waiting in quiet anticipation, but finally, the room is alight again in the pale glow. Yasha makes the first moves, the moonlight turning her hair aglow as she beckoned her love into her arms. The smaller women wasted no time in joining into the embrace, perfectly content to just be within the warm nest of strong muscles and soft cloths.
“So, what did you have in mind?” she finally asks, shaking her drifting thoughts free from opting for a nice standing nap. She felt Yasha stiffen slightly at the question.
“Ah. I didn’t really think of what exactly – thought it might just come with the moment.” She admitted, abashed.
Had they done much dancing in the last few years. Not really, both settling on other two-person activities in its stead. She knew at least a few things that could qualify, old tribe jaunts and the barely contained erratic’s that could count as a dance if you squinted from her time on the road.
There’s a sudden shifting I her arms as the smaller women within them starts testing out the movements for a waltz, gently guiding Yasha to follow along. So, she does, or tries her best to anyway but somewhat rapidly trying to learn the footwork in the dimmer shadows cast between themselves is not quite a flawless encounter and by the time the clouds obscure the moon once again the attempt has long since collapsed into laughter.
“-Ho, okay maybe we should practice a bit when we’ve got some proper light – or a better idea of what we’re wanting to do.” Beau suggests after she composes herself.
“We could check at the Soul. They have books on dancing, right?”
She watches Beau visibly beam at the suggestion, “Totally, and you know Dairon has a big office – and their away right now so we could practice in there for some privacy!” she added.
Probably wouldn’t be the smartest idea, the taller women contemplated, but maybe if they found one that they wanted to try out right away, then they could risk it.
“It’s a date.” Yasha decided.
The next morning found them making the journey to the archive early, spurred by the thoughts of their potential findings. The giddy smile Beau was sporting was not an often saw sight outside of the pairs home or when with other members of the Mighty Nein. Those more junior archivists that would witness the sight would probably believe the brash women to be silently calling for aid.
Yasha knew well though, that this was the sight of a mood that wouldn’t be easily brought dow—
“Ah, Expositor Lionett – what fortuitous timing, we have need of your expertise.” A voice called out to them almost as soon as they entered the main building, “I was debating sending you a missive.”
Greeting them stood an older human man in the robes and colours of the High Curator’s post and right then, Beau’s giddy smile may have well never existed.
“High Curator, Turray. Please tell me you were just needing me to reach some of the higher shelves for you.” Beau deadpanned, internally bracing for the words that would ruin her day.
Loman chuckled, the expositors usual cheery demeanour a force he’d long since grown hardy in the face of as he gave her companion a brief nod of greeting, “Not my shelves I’m afraid. Expositor Dairon has requested assistance in their mission over in Rexxentrum and with your relationship with them, we thought you best suited.” He explained.
“Fuck knew I shouldn’t have mentioned her office last night,” she muttered to Yasha.
“Hm” Loman inquired politely.
“-Nothing! Right, I guess I better go get geared up then. You got this handled, Babe.” Beau asked.
Yasha reassured her, leaning down to give her a farewell kiss, “I know someone who can help, let me know when you’re coming home.” She pressed at the Sending stone she knew Beau always kept in her pocket.
Patiently waiting for the pair to make their goodbyes, he bid a final parting nod to Yasha once more before walking with her girlfriend towards the teleportation circle chamber, leaving her to watch them disappear through the distant pair of guarded double doors. Once they vanished from sight with a final wave goodbye from Beau, Yasha set off into the halls to find with any luck, the archivist on her mind.
Even years on, most of those within the archive still generally gave her the wide berth; even unarmed, the visage of a tall, heavily scarred individual was reason enough for most of them to hesitate on approaching her – even if they’d seen her so many times usually with Beau.
She could count some at least, as she found who she was looking for, heterochromia eyes falling on a dark-haired Goliath in archivist robes marked with accompanying black, trailing markings.
“Morning, Katieresk.” Yasha called gently – hoping not to startle the young member.
Like touching a static charge, the Goliath jolted at the sudden approaching company, trying and mostly failing to disguise the action as the book they were checking slipping from their hands. They peak around to spot her, a hastily manufactured composure on their face before they recognised the person greeting them.
“Oh, Yasha hi – Knowing Mistress above, how do you manage to sneak up on people like that.” They spoke, slotting the book back into its spot on the shelf before closing the distance for a hug.
She returned the embrace before replying, “Well, you don’t know this, but I have this special ability that lets me sneak up on people I have fought and, well uh, that lets me… uh – “ she trailed off, the joke deflating at the bemused expression on their face, “Yeah, that one wasn’t as good – I should of just said a invisibility scroll or something.”
Healing by jokes was certainly a method but she still probably needed to work on the joke part of that. She got a chuckle at least at her attempt at least.
“Sounds good, so what did-ya need?” Katieresk enquired.
“Well, last night; when that full moon was out, I just thought that we should have a dance, but neither of us really had any good dances in mind, so we thought we’d scope one out – but Beau needed to go do ‘Soul-Business’, so I was wondering if you’d want to help?”
Katieresk cocked an eyebrow, “it’s taken you both what, like three years to start really dancing together?” “Alright, I’m sure we can find something for you to try out.”
Choosing to not answer that with what they would usually do instead, Yasha let them lead on to wherever the soul kept their ‘dancing feet’.
“Was there a specific type of dance you were think about, Yasha?” They asked half an hour into the browsing; the Soul had a healthy enough record of all sorts of movements and dances; it was just figuring out exactly what Yasha had in mind before next Harvest festival.
Yasha’s sigh beside them was punctuated by the thump of the closing book as the large women leaned back in the chair to rub her eyes, “that would make things much easier but all I mostly know are all… well, chaotic.”
“In my tribe there were dances I guess but they had little form and was mostly just a way of us to tire out at the end of a night’s meal or to psyche us up before a journey or hunt.”
“So, do you want us to look for something like that; are you wanting to teach Beau a similar kind of dance or for something to learn.” Katieresk probed.
“That kind needed more than just two people – I’m sure the Nein -or Jester- would love to have a team dance but something just for us but I’d like to share a happier memory of the tribe with her.” She admitted, a hand absently running over the two-toned emerald tattoo that ran down her entire arm.
“In a group and alone together then – give me a minute, I think I have an idea of something.” They said, getting up quickly and darting off, leaving Yasha to just wait and flick back over a very curious footwork of sorts.
Five minutes later and the sound of feet returned as Katieresk returned carrying a simple case about the size of a book that they set gently down beside her before sitting back down and shifting the object back towards themselves.
“Now. This one’s old; sometime pre-calamity by our record,” they explained, popping open the seals to reveal a stack of loosely tied pages covered by a simple blank leather frontage, “these aren’t the original research of them, think our one in Vasselheim has that – anyway it originates from a tribe from back then around there that’d found a particular purpose with the moons, regarding them as vessels for casting their prayers out to, to then reflect them back to others within that moons gaze.”
Handing the loose ‘book’ to Yasha, Katieresk continued.
“What record we have of the people associated with it says their society often had members leave for extended periods.” They explained, leafing through the collection of notes and delicate replicated copies of what was physically recovered in her hands to the specific mentions.
“These people must have had some kind of clerical connection to the deities, maybe the Moonweaver, because it’s said they could communicate to those out on these journeys in limited bursts – like Sending or Message spells.”
“Anyway, the relevant part was that they had this dance; the most accurate translation of its name comes to a ‘soul dance’, which could be done either together in large groups or as a duo – say two partners.”
‘Two partners, sending’, this was sounding promising, “so what your saying is they would do some sort of ‘Long-distance Dancing?’ as a way to reach out and check-in?” The retired barbarian surmised. Her Goliath friend nodded.
“More or less, yeah, here.” They flipped back a page and indicated to a specific part:
‘With our words to your ears and the moon(s) as both our eyes, we will be connected across infinity – until your return; and our reunion.’ 25 words, a complete sending.
“It was so that even though they were separated physically, they could and would be able to feel, well, connected.”
“And the dance part then, where does that come in?” she was fully intrigued now, the potential of this extending far beyond just a simple dance now in her mind.
Katieresk flipped ahead once more, settling on a series of illustrations with a group, a group and the recipient and then a duet’s – all with the directions below and then the words, marginally different, but still at the 25 count. Not caring about the first two, she read it aloud:
“[Opposite facing when together]: Reach a hand-out and skyward, turn left [or right] – take a forward step, two, three – with the other hand touch your lips, eyes and cast them up – return the first hand to the heart, face forward again – a step, two (other arm still up – then return the other hand and bring it too to the heart – Turn right [or left] and bow to your ‘partner’.” She described, following the simple figures movements that mimicked it.
…
“…Well,” Katieresk asked after a moment in the silence, “shall I get to work making a copy for you to practice later with? -” They found themselves quickly enwrapped in a tight hug in lew of a response.
“Step one. Two. words to your ears and the moon…”
Three hours later into late afternoon found Yasha alone in their house, committing the moves to memory; the creak of wood as purposeful steps followed their ques. A scarred hand returned down to rest itself on her chest, “…connected across infinity.”
Within their living room, she found herself glancing to the window as if the moonlight would appear a few hours early for the rehearsals – though it wouldn’t be another full moon again for a while, there was nothing in the notes of that tribe that specifically denoted the waxing or waning moon.
“Turn again and bow ‘till our Reunion.” Beau’s chair received her bow and she sighed, arms falling back to her sides; if only she could have done this with her first, it felt almost wrong to perform it completely alone.
‘well, it doesn’t have to be alone’, her mind remined her as the familiar shape of the sending stone in her pocket called to her. Exactly 25 words; can’t be ‘Jestered’ and should be returned in kind. She’d just think I’d butt-stoned her or something.
Holding off for the moment, she collapsed back into her own chair and regarded the copy that held both the words and movements, looking over the words that people in that tribe would send out to remote members - the desire to update some of the wording and make it a bit more 'theirs' building within.
Thumbing over the stone in her pocket, she read over the words aloud again, “With our words. Our? No.” “With the stone as my mouth -and your ears and the moon as both our eyes,” she counted the words in her head; 16 so far, much more than they had, ‘need to shorten the end’.
Beau liked to keep writing implements everywhere, usually leading to various pens and dried quills stuck between furniture.
And so, it was for the simple pen she quickly found within the side and wrote her edit in the conveniently blank space left underneath before the copy continued.
“Nine words: ‘to be together across infinity’? No, ‘we will be together across infinity’,” she decided instead. Three words left – she found herself glancing back to the window and the creeping oranges of the setting sun. She hadn’t found out when Beau was coming back from this.
Setting down the paper, she fished out the sending stone and activated it.
“Hi, baby. Hope it’s going well over there, tell Caleb I said hi if he’s there -and Dairon too. I love you,” she paused, three words left.
“- Till we reunite.”
By the time Beau had finally managed to return home, Yasha had it memorised – not that it was exactly very long or complex but that would just mean Beau would figure it out in a flash and they could then try it properly.
Returning from the Rexxentrum circle in a flurry of limbs, her girlfriend in question shot straight towards her with such intent that had Caleb not warned her ahead of time to be ready to receive, the poor circle guards would have had the long awaited ‘Lionett Special’ not seen in its full glory since the days of the Nein.
“Hey, baby.” Beau mumbled contentedly from within Yasha’s chest, uncaring of the stationed audience.
“Missed you too, Beau. Do we have anything to do here, or can we?” Yasha cooed, eager to be return back home.
In answer, a familiar voice called out from behind them as Dairon teleported in, “I have got it covered – thank you for your assistance, Beauregard.”
A muffled grunt of acknowledgement came from the pale women’s chest, Beau’s best attempt at current of a tired response. Yasha sent a smile of thanks to the bald elf, spotting the other expositor’s lip curl into a half-smile back for just a moment before it vanished, and they walked ahead into the Soul proper.
A brisk half hour found the pair back within their home tucked into each other atop Yasha’s chair. Beau venting to her on the latest red herring goose chase the assembly had taken, fooled Dairon into bringing her down into and ended with Caleb’s intervention in getting them out of the temporary pocket dimension that the assembly members they’d asked about it later to had ‘absolutely no idea how it got out of their advanced tutoring classes anchors’.
“I swear at this point their starting to just try and annoy us off the pursuits – next Thing’ll happen is the whole of… fuck it, Kamordah, will end up in the Astral Sea cause one person had added too much sugar to their coffee.” She ranted, a stray foot gesticulating at the cooling mug nearby.
“Would you like it if they did that; banish Kamordah?” Yasha asked, earning a shrug from her girlfriend and the particularly animated foot.
“probably be much easier to just pay someone to just banish him instead and minimise the collateral.” She relented.
With TJ and her mother away from that shithole there wasn’t anything she remotely cared about there anymore – still, no need to trap the vineyard workers with the owners.
Bah, this was a shitty conversation to have for your reunion with your girlfriend after three annoyed weeks of unexpected excursion, the darker skinned women decided, shuffling in her lap, she changed the subject.
“Enough bout’ that, did you find something then – been the one other thing I’ve been looking forward to coming back for.”
“I did, but you’ll have to wait until tonight,” she teased, watching Beau’s anticipation deflate slightly before she continued, “for now, I just want to enjoy you.”
Its was to Beau’s fortune then that the nights were getting longer and to Yasha’s luck that Catha’s cycle had come back around to nearly full again. The two found themselves later that day back within the living room, the lights dimmed, as if the genesis of this whole idea had just been today.
Retrieving the copied notes from the box Katieresk had given her Yasha revealed here discovery.
“First, its not a very long thing really – but I think it could be nice for us; a ‘just for us’ piece for special occasions.” She explained as she felt the nervous uptick of her heartbeat, what if Beau wouldn’t like it – or would think her adjustments ruined it, or--
“-so not for like for a wedding dance or something?” Beau asked, cutting her internal doubt-spiral short.
Did she think she was lining up for a proposal dance – Stormlord, should she? No. focus.
“Nonono- well, I guess it could be used for that too but that’s not – here,” blushing, she handed her the notes on the dances origin, buying herself some moments to recompose her thoughts while Beau’s curiosity was brought to the research.
“So, this tribe used their dances to connect with members who were off doing whatever they were sent out to do – they had ones to do as a whole group and ones for if there was a more… intimate connections.”
Giving Beau time to read the notes, Yasha restarted her explanation.
“My friend at the soul thinks that they had clerics or something similar to also actually connect to the person,” she showed the page with the modified words on it, skipping over the ones they had actually used to gauge how her Monk thought of them.
She watched her intently, seeing her brows furrow in that way that wasn’t in scorn as some people often thought but her mental recitals of what was on the page.
“Alright, so how do we do your version then?” Beau asked with a smirk as Yasha’s eyes widened in surprise, “I’m just guessing they didn’t have sending stones if they had clerics of some sort, Yash.”
“right, well I changed it cause’ I wanted something we could use if we’re away from each other and if the moon is out for at least one of us, then then that makes two of us keeping an eye on the other.” Yasha reasoned.
As if to back up her statement, the white glow of Catha had finally appeared tonight, the curtains partially drawn shaving it to just a meter-wide border separating the room.
It was a perfect opportunity to finally put it into action. Moving back from Beau, she moved to the other side of the border, her girlfriend watching her motions but not following, guessing what was happening.
Lining herself up in to the beam, she took a few steps back and right before turning back to Beau with a smile of excitement, “Okay, follow my lead on this.”
“Always.”
“Match where I am but on the other side, perfect, now just follow along but turn in the opposite direction to me. Ready?”
Slowly, Yasha began, calling the steps, “turn right – so your left”
“Yasha...”
“Sorry; you’ve got it”, “your left hand skyward and then three steps in that direction.”
As the two began to move, she started to add in the words of the sending, matching them to her directions, “With the stone as my mouth – touch your other hand to your lips, then your eyes and cast that hand up – and the moon as both our eyes.”
She watched Beau dutifully follow suit at the edge of her peripheral as both their hands were in the sky now, “Bring the first hand to your heart and leave it there. Turn right,”
“Now two steps forward – We will be together across infinity – other hand to heart.”
They were both fully within the moons glow now she could see the edges of her white hair radiate with the light and Beau’s already faintly glowing tattoo fade in the torrent of white.
Time to wrap it up, she readied herself, “now turn to face your partner, parallel.”
Beau face met her own and all prior doubts washed away with the moons light at the smile that greeted her, her own face breaking out into a smile that she had to force from becoming the beginnings of laughter, it could wait at least a few minutes for the finale.
Forgoing the instructions, confident her love could follow along with this one, she dropped down into a bow, a little more like how she’d seen the people of the beer hall in Rexxentrum bow, with a quick flourish of her hand.
As she hoped, Beau caught on quick, coping along with her own bow.
“Till we Reunite,” she concluded as her eyes met with Beau again, framed in the baptising light of -hopefully- their new thing.
Beau is still simply smiling at her and the elation she was feeling burbles from her in a small chuckle. The smile cracks and finally dissolves as Beau joins in the giggles, moving the few steps to capture Yasha in her arms.
“That was great, Yash”, she assures in a moment between the chuckles before glancing to the ajar curtains, “think we’ve time for another go before the clouds get in the way?”
Its not long before the next time they get the opportunity to dance together, to Yasha’s delight, this time under the unimpeded light of the full moon. Beau had been practicing it since that first night, sneaking glances of an outstretched hand from the bottom of the training room and the archivists gossips of the Expositors latest distraction from paperwork.
The movements become more fluid, words match motion, and the motions convey emotion as all too soon, her Expositor will need to leave on another mission alone but for the stone.
And the moons.
Beau’s leaving again tomorrow.
The consistent comfort is knowing it will never be for too long and now there is an opportunity to test and use the ‘long-distance’ nature of the dance to connect in a way older than the empire they reside in. She finds her inside the kitchen late into the night before her departure, the tell-tale sounds of comfort food frying at 2am. She knows her stone is with her; it never leaves her side this close to a mission.
Her stone rests in the pocket of the night coat’s she’s thrown over herself, waiting for the moment when a sudden message is not going to lead to the cleaning of bacon and grease from the ceiling.
“With the stone as my mouth and your ears and the moon as both our eyes, we will be together across infinity – till we reunite.”
She starts softly to ease the surprise; its rewarded by only the slightest of jolts and the watchful gaze of the jade tattoo’s eye on her back is replaced by the pair of blue that captured her heart. A gleam of teeth in recognition is all she gets for now as her body shifts away from their kitchenette and the movements begin.
Yasha wonders for a minute as she bows whether she will come to her or follow through but the hand that flourishes to her deftly finds its partner stone in one motion and her slightly raspier voice finds Yasha’s ears twice.
...
“Try not to be away for so long, yeah?” the retired barbarian asks as she holds her close, the smell of bacon on her hair.
“Should be just the two nights,” she replies within the crook of her pale neck, “but I’ll only be a sending away; connected by the moons, right.”
She receives the first before she can slip into their bed, and though she dances and replies alone the bed doesn’t feel nearly as empty as it has before.
Its taken a year before it becomes known to any of the Nein. As threats from the Savalierwood under a blood-red night encroached again upon the Clays. In the brief respites of entities that sought to blight the Bone Orchard, two lovers found the moment within watch to find the beauty and opportunity to give the ruddy moon the charge of their dance.
Words whispered off of memory within their little corner beside one of the crystal towers
“Well, now that was just wonderful to witness – it seems you both are doing great right now,” a familiar pink-haired Firbolg with remarkably more stealth than he should have stood within visual range with a pair of steaming cups.
“Oh. Caduceus, we were just, uhhh…,” Yasha began before it died in her throat at his rumbling chuckle.
Setting the tea down where he stood, he gave a nod of understanding, “I understand and will not inform Jester,” he said with a smile before returning back towards the abode.
Times were changing and a lot could happen in 3 years – including your girlfriend being across the world for multiple months at a time now, as nooses close in on prey and the end of a journey begins to finally come into sight.
Until then though, there was the garden to keep her company. The garden, her friends, -
“With the stone as my mouth and your ears and the moon as both our eyes...” the voice came into her mind, refreshing and welcome like the breeze on a hot day. Of course, there was the stone as well.
It must be evening where she is right now, she muses, setting down the gardening tools ready for labour; there was something more important to do first.
Her first steps intercept with the Beans with a crunch of splintered wood, she winced but didn’t let it interfere further as her last step cleared them – she can fix up the slightly trodden patch later as she goes about the moves, as naturally as swinging her sword or moving with her love.
“we will be together across infinity – till we reunite.” The voice concluded.
Turn and bow, “Till we reunite, Beau.” She recited back, a promise set across miles. She reached into her overalls to squeeze and retrieve its other half and began: 25 words returned, at this point they can say all that is needed to be said – for now, until there are no limits once again.
The final words pass through the magic. Until tomorrow, unless Caleb decided to catch up as well. For now, she can only repair the damage and maybe check on that commission from Pumat.
Things didn't feel right tonight, a nagging headache has plagued her for the past 4 hours and the red glaring moonlight outside wasn't helping her stressed disposition as she worries alone in her chair.
She needs to – to know, she has absolute faith in them, she hopes it’s not too late there; She'll probably be exhausted. But it was almost over. Almost over. And then, it would be the right time for those words to finally be said again, one last time.
But all the while with these determined thoughts, there's a lump in her throat the size of the small box within her bedside table that plagues her with crimson red doubts.
She needs to; it can't be left any longer as she reaches for the stone and mentally recites the words, gazing out at the glowing red moon.
“With the stone as my mouth and your ears, and the moon as both our eyes, we will be together across infinity… till we reunite.”
...
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