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Danielle Barkstock loved her adventuring party. They were her best of friends, her family . They were the only group of people who had taken her in, saw all the pieces of her that other adventuring parties, even other druids hated, and loved her not in spite of, but because of them. Yelle grew up an only child, with only the earth to keep her company. She used to spend hours laying in the grass, listening to the wind and the birds, until her moms eventually had to convince her to come inside. Now, she had six other people to keep her company.
They were a rambunctious group– just between Ostentatia and Penny, there was already more than enough chaos to go around. Yelle loved them for it, loved that there was never a dull moment when it came to her friends. She wouldn’t change them for the world. She loved their high spirits and their infectious energy, but sometimes they were a bit too… loud . Even Zelda, who was arguably the shyest among them, needed to let her frustrations out every so often.
It was one of the reasons Yelle appreciated getting to spend time with them one on one. Whether she was hanging out with Katja and her horses, or gossiping while Sam did her hair, she savored every moment. She especially enjoyed her alone time with Antiope, and the way they could just sit in silence.
Sometimes it was all they would do. They’d sit beneath a tree and do their own separate things, enjoying the quiet, and each other’s presence, without the need to fill the space with conversation. Antiope had this calm, serene, almost regal air to her. Yelle occasionally enjoyed just watching her , whether she was sharpening arrowheads or reading a book on sword forms.
Recently, Yelle had been watching Antiope more often. Ever since Antiope’s little stunt at graduation, Yelle’s mind had been anything other than quiet. She couldn’t rid herself of the feeling of Antiope’s lips against her cheek, and the way the feeling was gone as quickly as it came.
“Yelle?”
Danielle blinked, and realized that Antiope was staring right back at her. “Huh?”
“Is everything okay?” Antiope’s brows furrowed in the most endearing way. “You’ve been… quieter than usual.”
Yelle considered telling her the truth. No, Antiope. She could imagine herself saying. I’ve been thinking about your lips for two weeks straight. I keep thinking about what would have happened if I had accidentally moved my head about an inch to the left.
“Everything’s just fine,” Yelle said instead. “I’m just going with the flow, absorbing the good vibes around me. You have great energy, y’know?”
Yelle knew she sounded a bit ridiculous, and seeing Antiope’s frown confirmed she hadn’t said the right thing. “I thought you weren’t doing that thing anymore.”
“What thing?”
“The neglecting your emotions thing,” Antiope said. “Come on, Yelle.”
In all honesty, Yelle should have known that out of everyone, Antiope was the worst person to try being avoidant with. She sensed bullshit from a mile away. It was probably a ranger thing– or maybe just an Antiope thing.
She found that rewiring her brain to place value onto her own feelings was… more difficult than she thought it was going to be. Allowing herself to be angry, or upset, wasn’t something she was used to. She was the support system, the glue . She didn’t have room for outbursts of passion.
Yelle just didn’t know how to explain that she was working on it. She was trying her best to be just as tuned in to her own emotions as she was to everyone else’s, but how was she supposed to explain that there was a much larger, Antiope Jones shaped problem that was lodged deeply into her heart?
“Okay. I’m sorry,” Yelle conceded. “But really, everything’s great. I’ve been journaling– about myself– don’t give me that look. And the girls have helped a lot.”
She half expected Antiope to be satisfied with that response, so they could go back to the way things were just a few minutes ago, but Antiope just went quiet, and turned her head away.
Now it was Yelle’s turn to be concerned. “Antiope. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Antiope still didn’t look at her. “I never told you how scared I was when we were in the Nekronomikron, when we saw the tree– well, when we saw you. ”
Danielle remembered. Of course she remembered. It certainly wasn’t her proudest moment, admitting that she had never allowed herself room for aspirations, or wants, or anything outside of giving and giving and giving. “Antiope…”
“I was supposed to be leading the group,” Antiope continued. “Supposed to be courageous Antiope Jones, but when I sensed that the tree was you… I wish you knew how much it hurt to see you like that.”
It took Yelle a while to figure out that her overly selfless nature was hurting the people she cared about as much as it was helping them. Zelda had already scolded her numerous times, but hearing these things coming from Antiope felt completely different.
“I was afraid we were too late,” Antiope said. “I was afraid that we weren’t going to be able to tell you how much we loved you. How much we didn’t care about you being our support systems. Not if it meant losing you.”
“You haven’t lost me. I’m right here,” Yelle said, and took Antiope’s hand.
Finally, Antiope looked at her, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Your feelings matter more to me than all the selfless acts in the world. I want you to want things, Yelle.”
“Everything’s changing. Everything is supposed to change in the grand scheme of things,” Yelle looked down at their hands. “But what I want is for this to stay the same.”
“ This… as in?”
“You and me.”
Antiope looked puzzled. “You’re my best friend. That’s never gonna change. Not if I can help it.”
Yelle closed her eyes in embarrassment. This was much harder than she thought it was going to be. This was the exact reason why she avoided any kind of emotional spotlight. Who knew wanting things for yourself was so stressful?
“I know that,” she said, almost frustrated. “But ever since the temple when you sprouted that weed with druidcraft, ever since the masquerade ball when you looked at me a certain way… I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you.”
As soon as she said it, Yelle felt a massive weight lift off her chest, the same way it did at graduation when all those buried emotions sprung out of her. Antiope was slack jawed, and Yelle felt so much blood rush up to her cheeks and to her head that she almost felt dizzy.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Yelle nearly sputtered. “It’s just been on my mind. If I’ve been different lately, it’s because of that.”
“Yelle…”
“So don’t worry about me anymore, okay? I am letting myself… feel emotions. I mean obviously , I just admitted that I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks–”
“ Yelle .” Antiope repeated, firmer. She had this lopsided smile on her face that made Yelle practically melt into the earth. “Are you going to let me kiss you or what?”
Danielle’s cheeks felt like they had been bitten by a dozen fire ants, even more so when Antiope brought both of her hands up to cradle her face. She felt the rough calluses of Antiope’s fingers against her skin, the feeling so visceral and grounding that it was terrifying. How was this actually happening?
“Will you say it again?” Antiope asked. “What you want.”
Yelle closed her eyes. “Antiope. I want you to kiss me.”
And Antiope did.
The first brush of their lips was tentative. Yelle was afraid of being too eager, too greedy, but she remembered all of the things Antiope had told her. Wanting was not something Yelle was particularly used to, but she was learning. She wanted to stay with her friends after the summer ended, she wanted to turn people’s heads when she walked into a room, and fuck it– she wanted to kiss Antiope Jones.
The second brush of their lips was far from tentative, and hundreds of wildflowers bloomed from the ground around them. Yelle knew she had a stupid grin on her face as she kissed Antiope, but she couldn’t help it. Not when she felt this alive .
Eventually the kiss slowed, and Antiope pulled away with a smile, their foreheads still pressed together. “Is that all you’ve got, Barkstock?”
Yelle just rolled her eyes, shoved Antiope into the grass, and kissed her again.