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1.
Fleeing Gelvaan is mostly a blur.
Luckily they had already been on their way out when the small crowd had appeared with their torches and pitchforks and holy symbols. Someone had already set fire to the cabin that Laudna had called home for a month, and the two of them had managed to salvage everything they could before leaving. Blankets and a small tent, most importantly, along with some rations, tea, a first aid kit, and of course, Pâté.
The fact that they were already leaving hadn’t stopped the mob from trying to ambush them, though. No amount of begging and pleading and magic-fueled suggestions had convinced them that they weren’t a threat. Not until something was thrown at Laudna and Imogen’s hair had started floating and her eyes had started glowing white, at least. Not until she became the threat they had always claimed she was.
Imogen tries not to dwell on the consequences; doesn’t really have time to, quite honestly. The hand clasped in her own is cold and clammy, trembling slightly with what Imogen assumes might be fear, though she can’t be sure if it’s because of her or the situation in general. And it’s fine, really. If Laudna is afraid of her then that’s fine. Just as long as she can get her to safety and they can part ways without any more bloodshed; that’s all Imogen could ask for.
She pushes away the mental images of the townsfolk, their angry faces turning into fear as a lightning bolt was shot down towards their feet, in favor of combing through her mental knowledge of the town’s layout to find them the safest and quickest way out. It’s hard with the rain pouring but they manage to push through it until the shouts slowly diminish and their legs begin to hurt.
They make it a few miles out of town before Laudna stops and tugs at her hand. When Imogen turns around to look at her for the first time since they left, she’s panting, wheezing out rattled breaths, and Imogen’s heart rate immediately picks up when she sees the black track marks running from Laudna’s eyes down her face and neck.
“We should stop for a moment,” Laudna manages to breathe out. “I’m… you look exhausted.”
Imogen only nods in agreement because Laudna looks exhausted too, maybe even more than her. Stopping for a few hours might do them some good. She’ll find Laudna a new house, a new home for her and Pâté, and she can leave them, happy with the knowledge that they'll be safe.
Hours later and her mind is still reeling from the attack, her fingers still twitching with static energy. Every now and then, the purple light emanating from the scars on her hands thrums and glows brighter, and even with them hidden behind her gloves, Laudna still notices.
“Are they hurting you, darling?” Laudna asks from where she’s sitting beside her. She’s poking the campfire with a long stick and petting Pâté’s tiny bird skull with her other hand. It feels like Imogen’s heart hasn’t stopped racing since they left, but somehow the question causes her heart to pound even faster, almost painful with the way it slams against her ribcage.
“Not really, no,” she answers honestly, spreading her fingers out and holding her hands in front of her, glad that the deep scars are covered by her gloves so she doesn’t have to look at them. They’re still trembling slightly; that tremor that hasn’t really gone away since the powers first began to show. “They’re sensitive, sure, but… the pain tends to be up here, mostly,” she motions to her head, smiling awkwardly when Laudna turns to look at her. “Are you alright?”
Most of her face is hiding behind a curtain of hair but Imogen catches her eye, wide and curious and almost doll-like, and Imogen has never seen her new friend looking so scared before. She gets the sudden urge to reach out to her, hold her hand, maybe, and reassure her that they’ll be okay, because they have each other. For now, at least.
Her heart stutters in her chest at the thought of having to go their separate ways.
Sitting so close to Laudna like this, their eyes locked, she wonders if Laudna’s heart is racing too. Wonders if she can do anything to help her. Briefly, and very briefly, wonders what it would feel like if she were to place her hand over her heart to feel it. Would it calm her? Would it be slamming just as hard, or is it more like a ticking clock: there, but muted, easy to block out the sound of it when you’re not paying close attention? A brief thought, of course. Any longer than that and Imogen would be weird, and Imogen isn’t weird.
Oh, but… would it—Laudna’s heart—would it match Imogen’s, or struggle to keep up? Is it even there at all? Surely, Imogen thinks. Surely it’s there, because Laudna’s thoughts are there, and Gosh, they’re beautiful thoughts, she’s so sure Laudna has a beautiful heart too. Beautiful. Laudna is—
“Imogen?”
Imogen blinks, swallows a thick lump that had formed in her throat and lets out a controlled breath in hopes of calming her heart down. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
The crowd had looked so scared of her. Imogen’s heart aches at the thought of it; at the thought of anyone being afraid of her, being afraid because of something she did.
Thinking back, it had been that way for a while now. The moment those marks started growing from the center of her palms, they had started to keep their distance. People talked and rumors spread and her powers kept growing, not caring about Imogen or her feelings; growing into something she quickly grew to despise. People didn’t even have to talk out loud anymore. Every passing thought was about her, even when she tried her best to shut them out. She didn’t even have to purposely go searching for their hatred because they put it on full display. People she had grown up with, classmates she considered her friends, family friends turned into strangers in a matter of months, and…
And it was so easy to choose Laudna over them.
It shouldn’t surprise Imogen, really, that Laudna doesn’t look afraid of her, but it does. Because after eight years of being made to feel like some sort of freak, some sort of monster, it feels impossible that anyone would look at Imogen after what she did back in Gelvaan and thank her for it.
Something shifts uncomfortably in her stomach when she looks down at her hands again. The hands she used to help Laudna. To hurt them, but to save her.
“You don’t have to thank me,” she says with a frown.
“Well…”
Imogen watches out of the corner of her eye as Laudna fidgets with her fingers, and she feels the urge to reach out and hold them again. It had felt so wonderful having Laudna’s hand clasped in hers, even as they ran for their lives, and she wants that comfort again, she wants to feel Laudna’s cool skin against the burning warmth of her gloves, she wants to—
“Nobody’s ever really saved my life before, besides myself and, well of course, Pâté.”
“I didn’t—” she cuts herself off, waving her hand dismissively. Laudna catches Imogen’s hand in hers, and Imogen’s head snaps up to look at her.
“It was remarkable what you did, Imogen. Truly.”
“Almost kill a buncha people?” Imogen laughs softly, her voice a little deep, a little broken. She looks at their hands, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she watches Laudna’s thumb rub over her knuckles. Even with the gloves on, Laudna’s cool hands quell the burning that still lingers from the spell she’d used. “I don’t think they’ll be welcomin’ me back anytime soon.”
“Then don’t go back,” Laudna says, squeezing Imogen’s hand. “I know we only talked about it briefly before, but… maybe there is a place out there that can help you with these gifts.”
“They’re not gifts, Laudna, they’re…” She doesn’t finish the thought, instead turning to look into the flickering embers of the campfire.
“I know they… they feel like a burden, but… well, if we can find someone who can give you guidance and—and help you understand them better, help you control them, I think…” Laudna pauses, pressing her fingers gently into Imogen’s palm and causing a jolt of something to shoot from her hand all the way up her arm, until it settles somewhere in her chest. “Imogen, I think you’re capable of doing such wonderful things.”
Imogen tears her gaze away from the fire, her eyes meeting Laudna’s again.
“Really?”
“I think you’re the most capable. I think you can do anything.” Laudna smiles bigger than Imogen has ever seen her smile before, and it’s a little unsettling but she’s so beautiful that Imogen can’t help but return it.
“And… you?”
Laudna blinks. “What about me?”
“That… woman. Delilah?” Laudna’s face hardens at the mention of her name, and Imogen squeezes her hand, hoping it comforts her. “There’s gotta be… studies, right? Someone’s gotta know why she’s there. Why she’s held on to you for all these years.”
There’s a hint of sadness in Laudna’s eyes, before she blinks and smiles. “We’ll figure it out. All of it.”
“Together.”
“Of course! As long as it’s alright with you, I don’t want to invite myself along when you want to go on your own, because honestly, just say the word and I’m gone, just like that, I—”
“Laudna,” Imogen interrupts with a laugh, still holding her hand.
“Oh, it’ll be such fun!” Laudna says, releasing Imogen’s hand to clap her own, and the laugh that comes out of Imogen might be the heartiest one she’s done in eight years.
She watches, enraptured, as Laudna puppeteers Pâté, tells him that they’re going to be going on a fun trip with Imogen, already planning out which routes they should take to avoid any bad folk. Pâté responds with something crass that Imogen doesn’t quite understand, but the three of them continue talking and plotting until Laudna falls asleep with her head on Imogen’s lap.
If Imogen doesn’t move an inch during her watch, that’s between her and Pâté.
Even the tamest spells she casts, like the flickering dancing lights she figured out a few years ago, causes the nightmares to occur, so really, it shouldn’t surprise her that she has a dream that night. She figured out a while ago that the dreams tend to follow frequent use of her powers, so she really should’ve expected to see the red storm looming in the distance as she dreams of riding Flora through the Dureni Fields.
It’s still surprising, though. When Flora bucks her off and flees, ignoring Imogen’s shouts—she never ignores Imogen’s shouts—and the storm looms and grows—it’s getting closer—and the sound of her mother’s voice echoes all around her—she sounds more frantic today.
It’s harsher, the way the wind whips around her, somehow both cold and scalding hot against her face. The sky is consumed entirely in red; hungry, swirling clouds coming fast like time has been sped up. Lightning flashes in the distance, the thunder cracking loud enough to shake the familiar, usually calm ground she stands on.
“Run, Imogen,” her mother tells her, like always, voice frantic and terrified, but still a comforting, all-encompassing presence. “Run!”
She knows how this goes. She’s already running, sprinting, before she can even think twice. The house is right there, it’s so close, but the run is longer than usual. Her shins are aching, her thighs burning, and she trips up the steps, cuts her knee against a loose piece of wood sticking out of the floorboard on the porch and yelps. Her body slams against the door with so much force, it takes her breath away. She slams against it again, pushing it open, and she turns around and—
Her eyes blink open to the dark canopy above her and—
“Imogen?”
She startles at the sound, whipping her head towards it to see Laudna crawling towards her, twigs crunching under her knees. Her eyes are wide and worried and Imogen’s breath catches in her throat when she feels a hand on her knee.
“Are you alright?” Laudna asks, and Imogen can only nod and try to blink away the vision of the red storm still clouding her periphery. She looks to Laudna, allows her to reach out to place a cold and clammy hand on her arm. “Oh, you’re shaking.”
Imogen wipes the tears from her face, trying to catch her breath, still winded from sprinting through the fields, as Laudna scrambles for her own blanket. She comes back to wrap it around Imogen’s shoulders, that look of worry still on her face.
“I’m afraid I can’t warm you up, darling,” Laudna tells her, but she tries anyway, tries rubbing at Imogen’s arms to create enough friction to warm her or at least stop her from shivering, and Imogen looks at Laudna and sees the worry in her eyes and the determination in her face and the—it can’t be—the love, maybe, or the care—yes, that makes more sense—and the fondness, and Imogen barely registers the sob ripping from her throat as she collapses forward into Laudna’s arms.
"Oh,” Laudna breathes out, wrapping her arms around Imogen in as tight a hug as she can manage. “Oh, it's alright, Imogen. It’s alright.”
And it’s a little embarrassing, the way Imogen clings to her like a child, but Laudna doesn’t protest; if anything, she only holds her tighter, runs soothing fingers through her hair, her touch reassuring despite the storm still lingering in her head.
She lets herself be held for the first time in—for the first time. Laudna lets her cry for a while, not asking any questions and not chastising her for being too emotional and Gods, it’s wonderful and it’s— she’s wonderful, and it’s such a strange feeling, to be held. Imogen has known cruelty for so long, she had forgotten what it feels like to be treated with kindness.
Pulling back, she attempts to wipe the tears from her face, but Laudna’s hands, clammy and cold, are on them first. She wipes them softly, making sure to avoid Imogen’s eyes with her long nails, as she breathes in and out slowly, and Imogen finds herself automatically matching her breaths. There’s a soft concern on her face, her eyes searching Imogen’s for any signs of distress.
“Sorry,” Imogen whispers with a small, embarrassed laugh. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I just—”
Before she can finish, Laudna's expression softens and she gives a small, understanding smile. “You don’t have to apologize,” she replies gently, her fingers still gently brushing away the tears from Imogen's cheeks. “Are you okay?”
Imogen’s bottom lip trembles slightly, a few more tears escaping her eyes which are immediately swept away by Laudna’s thumb. She can only nod in response, not trusting her words. She’s longed for this kind of solace for so long, just one person to care about her, and now that she has it, it’s like she doesn’t quite know what to do.
Her eyes close, taking in a deep breath.
She opens them when Laudna pulls her hands away from her face, a protest already forming on her lips before she shuts it down herself, not wanting to come across as desperate or more vulnerable than she already feels.
“I…” she pauses, overcome by the weight of the care she feels for Laudna as she allows her to take both her hands in hers. Laudna’s thumb rubs softly over the backs of her hands as she smiles at her. There are so many things she wants to say, but it all feels inadequate, like there’s nothing she could do to thank Laudna for treating her like this, like she’s worth it.
She settles on a “thank you” and she allows Laudna to fetch her waterskin and she’s not thirsty but she drinks it because Laudna is smiling at her, caring for her, and it should scare her that she’d do anything to make sure Laudna continues smiling at her like that, but it doesn’t. And it’s a little ironic that with Laudna around, it’s hard to really be scared of anything.
As the silence stretches between them, Imogen's fingers unconsciously tighten around the waterskin, her eyes never leaving Laudna’s, even as she settles in beside her.
“Was it the same nightmare as before? The one you were telling me about?”
“Yeah,” Imogen sniffles, allowing Laudna to pull away from her to fetch her journal, and her eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I figure we can keep a record of these dreams and see if there’s a pattern, then when we find someone who can help you, we can show it to them and—and that’s… oh, that’s a silly idea, isn’t it? Sorry, I—”
“No,” Imogen reaches out to place a hand on Laudna’s arm, shaking her head. “No, that’s not silly, I think that’s a great idea.”
Laudna smiles, placing a hand over Imogen’s for a moment before sitting back down beside her and opening her journal to a new page. She begins to write everything down, and Imogen watches, enraptured, her heart still racing.
“I’ve never thought to record my dreams,” Imogen says, scooting closer to Laudna. “It’s all so overwhelming afterwards, I… It’s hard to really do anythin’.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Laudna says simply, nudging Imogen’s arm with her own. Imogen immediately smiles, placing the waterskin down and settling beside Laudna, wrapping the blanket around both of them before leaning her head against her bony shoulder.
“Try to get some sleep, darling.” Laudna whispers, turning her head until soft lips are brushing gently against the skin of Imogen’s temple. “I’ll be here the whole night, if you’d like. If you want me to be.”
“I do,” Imogen immediately says, closing her eyes. “Thank you. I do.”
She feels Laudna smile against her temple, before she goes back to writing in the journal, her presence alone already providing the safety Imogen needs to fall back to sleep.
2.
Imogen can’t be sure if the crimson hue surrounding them is because of Predathos, the storm that once haunted her dreams now becoming reality, or the blood in her eyes.
It’s difficult to see much beyond the bodies and the blood and the sand blowing up in the midst of the chaotic storm. A fireball launches overhead as she struggles to get to her feet, the marks on her body flickering and glowing with unstable magic as the Key siphons everything it can from her.
She quickly turns her attention to the sound of her name being yelled, her heart cracking in two when she sees familiar purple hair whipping in the wind. A defeated, whispered “mama” falls weakly from her lips, but there’s too much going on for anyone but herself to hear it. Out of everything she’s done lately; the sacrifices they’ve made, the killing in the name of the Gods and the killing against the Gods, almost losing herself to Ruidus, losing Laudna to Otohan... Out of everything, the thing she hates most is that she still wonders, briefly, if there’s still hope for them.
She hears her mother’s voice, sorrowful and angry and desperate and most of all, heartbroken, in her head.
You still have the power to save them, Imogen, her mother tells her, the scars that reach her eyes glowing red and angry, mirroring her own. Run. And take them with you.
Another explosion goes off nearby, and Imogen’s head whips towards it, immediately recognising the dark purple hue of Laudna’s magic detonating against one of the giant Ruby Vanguard automatons. Then, a tall black figure peaks through the red mist as the lightning flashes. Laudna, in her form of dread, the veil whipping in the wind, the branches sprouting from her back and the ichor falling from her elongated fingers. She’s beautiful and terrifying and if Imogen was closer, she’d be able to see the lilac and jet black flowers blooming side by side on the branches.
You have a choice, Laudna had told her before the solstice. It feels so far away now. A distant, safe memory that she’s not sure she’ll ever get the chance to experience again, not with how weak she feels, not now that she knows what she knows. I'll always be there to support you. You don't have to make these choices alone.
She takes a moment to reach out mentally to Laudna before it's too late, hoping that if anything, in her final moments, Laudna’s voice will be one of the last things she hears.
Laudna. Are you alright?
Imogen? The response is immediate, and Imogen breathes out a relieved breath, even as she loses sight of Laudna in the chaos. She clings desperately to their connection as her gaze returns to her mother. They’re both crying now, their tears mingling with the dust and blood on their faces, their cries lost to the echoes of the battlefield.
Laudna, our connection is gonna go dark, Imogen tells her, but I’m still here. I’m… I l—I…
I love you, darling. It’s alright. I’ll see you soon.
Between her rapid, exhausted breaths, a sob erupts from her throat, the weight of everything threatening to crush her. She clings to their connection, drawing as much strength as she can from it, even as her own powers wane and the world around her teeters on the brink of destruction.
I love you, she responds. Then, out loud, “I love you, mama. We can still stop this. Together”
When Imogen wakes, she’s shaking.
Sweat lingers uncomfortably at the back of her neck as she tries to regulate her breathing the way her father had taught her back when the nightmares first began. In through the nose, hold it for five seconds, then out through the mouth. In, hold, out, in hold out, the mantra echoes through her head as she closes her eyes and squeezes her hands into tight fists, nails digging into her scarred and broken palms.
It takes a little longer than usual to come back to herself, but her body eventually relaxes after she steps out into the cold night air, sitting on the front step of the little cottage that she’s called home for a few months now.
It’s strange, to say the least, waking up in a real bed, in a real home that she can call her own again. And they’ve had many homes over the past few years, but Imogen has to constantly remind herself that it’s different now. There’s no looming threats. No possibility of Predathos being released, or Otohan hunting them down, or Ludinus, or…
Her teeth clench as she looks up at the dark night sky, eyes automatically searching for the moons. She still expects to see Ruidus looming ahead, taunting her, pulling her, but only Catha shines through the leafless trees, and that alone is almost enough to calm her.
She slowly lets out a breath, spinning the red string bracelet around her wrist. The bright red color is fading slightly and the edges are frayed from countless prestidigitations and mending whenever it would snap during a fight. Even after all this time, she still finds herself comforted by it.
The door clicks open behind her, the glow from a lit candle pouring through the doorway, and Imogen finds herself smiling softly before she even sees Laudna, her presence alone instantly soothing Imogen’s worries.
When she turns to look at her, Laudna is sleepily rubbing her eyes. She doesn’t question why Imogen is sitting on the porch alone in the middle of the night, nor does she make any comment about how much colder it is tonight than any other night they’ve spent here. She sits beside Imogen with barely a sound, close enough that their shoulders are touching but—just in case Imogen doesn’t want to be touched—she keeps that distance like she has done many times before, waiting for Imogen to initiate the first contact.
It doesn’t take long, just a few seconds before Imogen is scooping up a bony hand in hers and pulling it towards her to rest on her lap. Holding Laudna’s hand immediately grounds her. Stops her feeling like she’s about to fall despite sitting down. Laudna lets her play with her hand, running scarred digits over the pads of her fingers, down her palm to the inside of her wrist and back again.
“That tickles,” Laudna whispers. Her voice cracks a little, still half-asleep, and Imogen smiles to herself, turning Laudna’s hand over and bringing it up to her mouth so she can press a soft kiss to the back of it.
She smiles at Laudna’s soft exhale, scoots over a few inches to the right so their bodies are touching, and looks at her.
Her eyes, as always, are already on Imogen, her smile radiating warmth despite the chill of the night air.
“Another nightmare?” Laudna asks, though Imogen is certain she already knows the answer.
She nods, moving closer to Laudna so she can rest her head on her shoulder, careful not to put too much pressure on her fragile form. Laudna’s arm automatically wraps around her back, her hand coming up to scrape gentle fingers through Imogen’s hair.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Just the usual. I’m alright, though. I just needed some air.”
Laudna hums in understanding, not pressing for details. She simply pulls Imogen closer, her comfort and support unwavering.
Imogen feels her body relax further into Laudna's embrace, fingers idly tracing patterns on Laudna's hand, her touch gentle and affectionate. The night air around them is still, the only sounds being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant hoot of a night owl. Imogen takes a deep breath, taking in the sense of peace and safety that surrounds them. She lifts her head from Laudna’s shoulder to look at her, and is about to lean in to kiss her when she hears a thud against the door behind them.
“Oh, oh shit!”
They both turn at the sound of Pâté’s voice, before there’s the sound of something shattering against hardwood and more grunts from him.
“Pâté!”
“S-sorry boss, I was gettin’ Imogen some water like you asked an’ I’m only little an’ I couldn’t carry it an’ it slipped an—”
“Oh, Pâté,” Imogen laughs, holding her hand out, palm facing up, as Laudna stands up. “You’re so sweet, come here.”
Pâté settles into Imogen’s open hand as Laudna mends the glass and prestidigitates away the spilt water, before heading inside for a new glass, muttering as she goes.
Imogen smiles down at Pâté, holding him in one hand as she uses the other to pet the top of his bony head. He doesn’t really have a face, but Imogen can see him relax at the contact as he nuzzles into her, mumbling tired little apologies.
Laudna comes back with a fresh glass of water, sitting beside them both and rolling her eyes goodnaturedly at the now sleeping Pâté. Imogen accepts the glass graciously, taking a sip mostly out of habit. It’s been a long time since she’s truly needed this sort of comfort after a nightmare, but she welcomes it anyway. If it means she gets to spend time with her family, she’s not complaining.
“Darling?”
When she looks at Laudna, she has a soft, content smile on her face, eyes shining with affection; all of the annoyance at Pâté’s mishap now seems to have dissipated. Laudna leans forward, pressing soft lips against her cheek, before pulling back with a content smile.
“I love you.”
Imogen’s heart immediately swells with warmth, returning her smile and hoping it gets across just how deeply she feels those words.
"I love you too," Imogen replies, her voice filled with sincerity. She reaches out to gently cup Laudna's cheek, her thumb caressing the delicate skin of her cheekbone.
“Wha’ about me?”
Imogen laughs at the same time Laudna frowns and sighs.
“We love you too, Pâté,” she answers, standing up and holding a hand out for Laudna to take, before they make their way back inside. He’s still lying in Imogen’s palm, and he doesn’t protest when she sets him down on his makeshift bed in the living room.
“Goodnight, sweet boy,” Laudna tells him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before the two of them return to their own room.
Imogen collapses on the bed first, already feeling lighter from just knowing that whenever she has a bad dream, Laudna will be there when she wakes. It’s been years, but she’s still surprised each time; still sometimes finds it hard to believe that after ten years of having to deal with everything alone, she has someone by her side to support her through it all.
Rain begins to tap on the window as Laudna slides into bed beside her, pulling the blankets over them. Before she lies down though, she looks down at Imogen, her eyes soft and questioning. Imogen doesn’t have to read her mind to know that Laudna is making sure she’s okay, but there’s something else in her eyes too. Something softer.
“What?”
“Nothing, my love. Just making sure you’re alright.”
Imogen takes her hand in hers, softly running her thumb over the back of her fingers before kissing her hand again. Her bottom lip brushes over the ruby ring now on Laudna’s ring finger, and she smiles to herself before pulling back.
Laudna kisses her then, properly this time, lazy and slow and careful. Imogen’s eyes flutter closed as she kisses her back, a soft sigh escaping her mouth as Laudna pushes closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. Imogen’s hand caresses Laudna’s cheek as the kiss deepens, her thumb brushing lightly over her skin before their lips part and Laudna’s begins to trail kisses down the harsh, red marks running up her neck.
They’re still sensitive, even after all this time, and her lips part in a soft, almost imperceptible whimper as Laudna’s cool fingers slip under the hem of her shirt, running across her stomach, nails scraping softly over the lines that she’s now committed to memory. Goosebumps rise on her skin as her senses heighten, every nerve ending coming alive under Laudna's gentle touch. She arches her back ever so slightly, a soft gasp escaping her.
Laudna’s touches are slow and delicate, purposely hoping to drive Imogen crazy, no doubt. Imogen closes her eyes, savoring the feeling, not wanting it to end but ultimately knowing that it most likely will, considering it’s still the middle of the night and usually once they start, it’ll be hours before they stop.
Still, she allows herself to indulge, if only for a moment longer. She allows Laudna to kiss her as much as she wants; to kiss the lingering fear from the nightmare away, to kiss as much love as she can into her until Imogen feels full of it.
She holds onto this moment as tight as she can, not wanting to let go. Here, underneath Laudna, where the nightmares can’t touch her, the lingering remnants of Predathos can’t touch her, Ludinus or Otohan can’t touch her.
Laudna’s lips find hers again, sweet and tender, but Imogen can feel the urgency there too, desperate for more.
“Laudna.”
“I'm here,” Laudna whispers against her lips, their foreheads pressed together, bodies tangled, breaths mingling. “I love you. I’ve got you.”
Here, with Laudna, she’s safe. She’s home.