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Stelle wakes to the sun in her eyes–as usual, lately–though she swears the curtains had been drawn back before she went to sleep…?
Dan Heng’s probably trying to subtly tell me to wake up.
So, up she gets, and the true culprit reveals herself in a flutter of wings and a girlish giggle.
“Good afternoon! You’ve kept me waiting to deliver this message,” says Tribbie.
Afternoon? Ugh. This place has completely thrown off her sleep schedule. Stelle tries to smooth her hair to something resembling proper form.
“Sorry about that. You could’ve woke me up sooner. Is it urgent?”
“Well, I was told to let you rest a while, so probably not.”
“What’s the message?”
Tribbie clears her throat and says in an inflated, playfully pompous tone: “The most illustrious Lady Aglaea is requesting your presence in the holy bath of the Chrysos Heirs!”
Stelle pales. “What did I do this time?”
That makes Tribbie grin. “Nothing! She even said you could refuse if you wanted.”
Yeah. Sure. As if anything Aglaea asks is actually a question. Stelle lets out a sigh. “No. I’ll go. Does she mean right now?”
“Mhmm! At your earliest convenience. Now that you’ve agreed, she’ll already be prepared once you get there.”
Stelle rolls her shoulders. Alright then. Nothing like some heartstopping terror to wake her up, she supposes. Tribbie sets off without further delay, simply soaring out the window with a wave. Dan Heng’s nowhere in sight, so he’s probably already out and about. Stelle picks up her jacket and looks around.
She tries to picture, for a moment, the world beneath a network of golden threads.
And within the next minute, she’s out the door and heading for the Heroes’ Bath.
It’s inaccurate to say she dislikes Aglaea, it’s more like…well, the last couple of times she’d interacted in private with her? They hadn’t exactly been the most pleasant encounters. Stelle’s going to dare to hope this one might be different, if Aglaea isn’t actually upset. By the time she makes it to her destination, despite it only taking a few minutes, Aglaea is indeed already there.
The baths are empty. Seems the other Heirs won’t be joining them. The difference in atmosphere compared to the public baths below leaves Stelle feeling as though she’s intruding on a holy space, and she supposes in a way, she is. She’s a guest from beyond the sky, invited into a location that is sacred to the people here. Stelle remembers to tread with respect, even if she’s a bit on edge.
Aglaea’s dropping something into the water. Stelle watches the herbs as they’re caught in the flow of the pools, tumbling down into the depths and filling the air with a subtly floral aroma. It’s pleasant, though Stelle’s cautious about breathing in too deeply.
Aglaea, without straightening or facing her, says: “Good afternoon, honored guest.”
Her slender fingers continue to stir the water. Stelle doesn’t get too close.
“Good afternoon.”
The dressmaker turns to look at her. There’s no reading those eyes. Stelle’s suddenly reminded of Kafka–someone who seems hot and cold, friendly and distant, all at once. Though it’s more like Kafka without her specific fondness for the Trailblazer.
“...Hmm. That’s why this meeting is necessary,” Aglaea murmurs to herself.
“Did I break another rule?”
She laughs slightly. “No, I assure you this isn’t a means to entrap you.”
Not this time, maybe.
It’s quiet, despite the constant thunder of the water pouring into the baths. Golden sunlight fans in from on high, illuminating the pools in stripes of dazzling light. Aglaea’s almost painfully beautiful against its backdrop, but for once, Stelle’s incapable of fully enjoying the sight of such a lovely lady.
“This is a choice, so if you don’t wish to be here, please feel free to leave.”
Stelle shakes her head, so Aglaea continues.
“Then…will you join me in the baths, Stelle?”
…Uh oh.
As the Heir approaches her, Aglaea speaks, graceful fingers weaving golden threads. None of them are meant for Stelle–instead, she’s absently monitoring or fixing something else, maybe even something halfway across the city. Or that’s her best guess at the matter.
“Allow me to explain why I invited you here. Clothes are the barriers between bodies and hearts. Removing clothes would also remove such hindrances.”
Oh.
“But…don’t you make dresses?” Stelle asks before she can stop herself.
The question is what she wanted to hear, it seems, because Aglaea smiles at it.
“If that is the purpose of clothing…then would it not stand to reason that what I create is armor for the heart? It should prove infallible against evil, yet…” Her eyes lower. “...easily removed by someone you trust.”
Oh.
“You and I will lower our barriers to each other in the holy baths, like how the waters that trickle along our fingers intertwine and flow toward the future.”
There’s a pause. A pointed one. A reminder.
“ Only if you’d like.”
She’s really trying her best, Stelle realizes, to emphasize this is not her forcing anything. It’s ringing a little hollow to Stelle considering their conflicting past interactions, but…she’s sincere, this time. Stelle is certain of this.
And how can she do anything else but reply to that vulnerability in turn?
“A-Alright.”
Stelle swears Aglaea actually brightens a little. If she’s capable of feeling nervous, that might’ve been the closest thing to it.
It doesn’t take long for Stelle to remove her clothes. She’s not someone known for being self-conscious, and that’s still the case now. The water’s the perfect sort of hot–the kind that settles into the body and creates a dreamlike warmth. It helps steady her nerves a bit. A fine mist hangs in the air as she waits for Aglaea, and there’s that herbal scent again. It’s pleasant enough, she supposes. She’s reminded of the hotel at Penacony.
I’m being ridiculous. She didn’t just spike the baths with something, I’m sure.
…Right?
The water shifts as Aglaea enters it. She’s impossibly graceful in the process, like a mermaid slipping beneath the sea. Stelle glances over and–
She.
Is.
Beautiful .
There doesn’t seem to be a singular scar or blemish on her entire body. The water caresses her form, the set of her shoulders, the curve of her breasts–Stelle quickly lifts her eyes. Aglaea’s hair burns a flaming gold under the sun’s gaze, and the way her eyes gleam…it reminds her of stained glass, like there’s a brilliance shining just behind the jade, lit by something deep inside her.
Stelle considers herself rather good-looking, if she does say so herself, but she’s not on Aglaea’s level. She doubts anyone in Amphoreus is.
“Have you enjoyed the baths here?” The slight smirk on her face quickly disappears, but Stelle knows she saw her staring.
“They’re incredible . The fact they’re just open to the public like this…I know more than a few places that would have charged for the privilege.”
Aglaea looks thoughtful at that. She’s settled to Stelle’s right, not too close, but a bit more than Stelle had been expecting. She’s not sure if she should be looking at her or somewhere else, so Stelle lets her gaze wander for now, watching the leaves of a plant dip and bounce as water droplets continuously splash upon them.
“The baths are sacred to the people of Okhema. While there are certainly those who have taken the water with the intention to peddle it outside the city walls, the baths can and should be available to anyone, regardless of creed or background.”
“I…really appreciate that sort of thing.”
Aglaea shifts, placing her palm on the submerged seat they are currently resting upon. “From where do you hail, Stelle?”
“I don’t know,” she admits, shrugging. “I don’t have any memories of anything from before, besides my name and…one other person. I was found on a space station by the Astral Express’s crew, and I’ve been with them ever since.”
“Just from what I’ve observed between you and Dan Heng, I would assume you are close to the rest of the crew as well?”
“They’re my family,” Stelle says without hesitation, even if her heart thinks too about–
“But not your only family.”
Stelle wonders if the threads are back around her, or perhaps Aglaea simply read something in her face. When she turns to look at her, she’s…definitely closer than she imagined. The heat from the baths makes Stelle’s cheeks redden. Yup. That’s why.
“It’s…complicated, but there’s another group that I care about just as much.”
Aglaea closes her eyes for a long moment. “Then, I apologize that the situation is keeping you away from those you love. Your assistance is not being taken for granted.”
“It’s…” Stelle thinks about March, looking so pale before they departed for Amphoreus. “It’ll be fine. I’ll see them soon.” She hopes.
The holy baths really are quite nice. There’s a constant rumble as the waterfalls dip into the chamber, and the scattered sunlight causes rainbows to form. Those talking…water nymph… things float around them, as if captivated by the colors.
“So it doesn’t feel as though I’m aiming to interrogate you, why don’t you ask me something?”
The invitation makes Stelle’s head spin. Should she try to fish for more information regarding the many dozens of things that she still doesn’t quite understand? Inquire after Aglaea herself? Just not say anything? Though that would be a terrible waste…
“Do you enjoy your job?” she finds herself asking.
Aglaea laughs low. “A question with many facets.”
Stelle watches her stretch her hands out before her, water sliding from her skin in shining rivulets.
“Do you mean my job as a dressmaker, or my duty as a Chrysos Heir?”
“B…Both?”
She doesn’t reply right away. Stelle tries to relax, reclining back a bit into the water. Aglaea hums a moment before she speaks again.
“The simplest response is ‘yes’, though the more complete answer would be ‘I enjoy the result more than the process’. Garments, stitching, the art of crafting clothing– that has always been my passion. As for my work as a Chrysos Heir…”
Stelle feels the weight of her gaze. Those eyes that seem to see right through her, piercing her to her core…she can’t look away.
“This city is all that remains, at what may very well be the end of the world. I want you to listen closely. What do you hear, from the baths down below?”
Stelle does as she’s asked. Aglaea doesn’t free her from her gaze, so she tries to focus despite the pressure of those glinting, emerald eyes.
“I hear…people talking. Laughing. Singing, even.”
She nods. “I’ve no particular fondness for the trappings of leadership…even less, for the paperwork that comes with it.”
Stelle can’t help but smile at the obvious exasperation in her voice. Who did?
“But there is no burden, no task that I will not shoulder if it will keep those voices full of joy.”
Wordlessly, Aglaea offers Stelle her hand.
She takes it.
The touch of her fingers…Stelle recalls the first time they did this, except now, there’s no gloves in the way. No dresses. Absolutely no clothing at all. Aglaea gently pulls her to her feet as she rises, and Stelle steps close. Closer. And closer still.
They are, quite suddenly, right against one another. Stelle can feel Aglaea’s heartbeat. It’s much calmer than her own.
“Do you mind, Stelle?” Aglaea asks, so very softly.
She doesn’t know what she’s saying “yes” to, but Stelle meets her gaze.
“...Go ahead.”
The golden threads form, twining around their wrists, binding one of their hands together.
“Step carefully,” Aglaea murmurs into her ear. “All you must do is move as I guide you.”
It takes a few movements before Stelle realizes what this is.
It’s a dance.
A simple, graceful, slow but elegant dance. The water stymies the pace, but that’s for the best, because Stelle suspects she’d have fallen face-first into the depths if she had to try and actually do anything faster than this. She’s no stranger to dance choreography, but she’s…never had a partner quite like her.
Aglaea isn’t ruffled at all. The sound of her faint chuckle trembles through her body. Stelle feels it through her heart, through her skin, through the strings that bind them.
They are very, very …close.
“I fear we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
You think? Stelle winces at the thought, because she knows Aglaea heard it.
“Despite my earlier words, I never intended to execute you or your friend.”
Stelle blinks. “What? Then–was it just a test?”
“Precisely. The stakes of which I increased once I understood the scope of the situation. You spoke to me entirely in truth, so I speak to you today with the same.”
Today. Which meant that could change in the future.
“I said I would do anything for Okhema,” she reminds, quiet.
…Alright then. Stelle turns slowly with her. Aglaea knits the fingers of their bound hands together. The strings feel warm in a different way than the water, as if she’s holding something living in her hands.
“You are. What you are feeling is the pulse of the Holy City itself.”
A hundred, a thousand, ten thousand heartbeats…a city that still found time for love, laughter, joy and stories even in the midst of all things coming apart at the seams. Stelle feels it, as if she and Aglaea have joined together–for a moment, there’s no distinction. A tapestry woven of their hearts.
“You have a gentle spirit, Trailblazer. You were willing to fight to protect strangers, despite being the one stranded in an unknown land. A hero’s heart. None can deny it.”
“Thanks…but it’s sort of the whole point of the Astral Express.” Really, she and Dan Heng had been caught between a rock and a hard place, but there’s no world where either of them would ever abandon someone in need right before their eyes.
Aglaea pauses, as if listening to something. “But it was a kindness you had even before .”
“...Huh?”
She doesn’t elaborate. Perhaps, she’s unable to. “In your spare time, I’ve observed you continuing to help the citizens of Okhema. I would like to extend my gratitude for that as well.”
Stelle swallows. The fingers of Aglaea’s free hand have lifted to gently brush her cheek. She’s telling her not to look away. So she doesn’t.
“C’mon, you don’t have to thank me for doing that . It’s a beautiful city, Aglaea, with beautiful people. I just wish we could’ve visited it at…a better time, maybe.”
“On that, we are in agreement.”
Without warning, Stelle’s dipped into the bath.
The world plunges into steam, heat, water and bubbles. It’s only for a few moments, but as Aglaea pulls her back up, the strings on their hands come undone, and Stelle’s left gasping and coughing, pushing her hair out of her eyes.
“Wh-What was that for?!”
An unexpected sound catches her attention. Stelle brushes her eyes dry the best she can–though it’s a futile endeavor–blinking at the sight of Aglaea laughing. She’s trying, rather poorly, to stifle it behind her hand, but she’s absolutely got a look of mischief in her eyes.
“I forgot where we were, for a moment,” Aglaea says, and Stelle buys that about as much as she buys anything Sampo rambles about.
And yet…
She looks the most beautiful Stelle has ever seen her, in that moment. The most human. There’s nothing else she can do but laugh in disbelief, finally, finally relaxing.
“I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”
“Guilty as charged?” Her tone is ambiguous. “I believe I’ve taken up enough of your afternoon.”
She sombers, quite suddenly.
“Thank you for accepting my invitation, honored guest.”
Stelle sighs, squeezing water out of her hair. “Maybe we should do this again sometime?”
“I pray for such a luxury. We may not find that peace for a long while yet.”
“...Even so?”
Aglaea looks at her. A faint smile curves the edges of her lips. “Even so, then.”
Right before Stelle's about to leave, Aglaea speaks again.
"Although," Aglaea begins, and Stelle stops to glance over her shoulder. "Perhaps next time, we could remove each other's armor instead."
...She really is going to be the death of me, isn't she.
And that, as they say, is that.
…
…
Back in the room she shares with Dan Heng, Stelle calls up Mem.
“I’ve got a new tale to add to our writings,” she tells the Memosprite with her usual incorrigible grin.
“Mew? What sort of story?”
She can just see it now.
“‘ The Ballad of the Galactic Baseballer and the Dressmaker’ , maybe? Nah, that’s such a mouthful…”
Mem’s got a hundred questions, but Stelle has just one intention.
She wants to capture that moment of laughter. More than anything she’s ever written before.