Chapter Text
clorinde curses under her breath. it occurs to navia, then, the novelty of beholding such a thing. how many people could say they witnessed the champion duelist stumble over her words? how many can say they saw something as intimate as a mistake, as a stumble, as a curse?
…no, really, how many? an uncharacteristic prick of jealousy grows sharp in her chest. navia never thought herself spiteful, envious. and yet here she sits.
“i told you to stay back,” clorinde murmurs. “archons, how is it you are more impulsive now than you were then?”
“you’re calling me childish?” navia laughs weakly.
“i’m calling you what you are.” clorinde tears bandage off the roll with a sharp flourish. “reckless. impulsive.”
“ah… you're upset with me?” navia’s smile fades just a touch. hypocritical of her to be so dismayed? perhaps.
clorinde’s jaw sets for a moment. “not quite.”
“but close enough nonetheless.” navia’s lips part in a sigh.
clorinde lets out a nondescript grunt.
navia tries not to squirm beneath that intensity that clorinde exuded. she knows it might well make things worse, and she does not think she can stomach clorinde being well and truly angry with her.
and then her mind wanders, thinking of what a luxury it is that she gets to choose. navia had been angrier than angry could be, once. at everything that moved, just about. it was productive for a while, anger. but its flame proved bright, wild, and short, leaving navia with but fumes to work with when it had worn itself out.
only later would she discover that anger’s cost. how it ate away at her very self for timber. navia cast a weak glance upwards, hoping to catch her eye.
“clori,” she says after a moment of deliberation. “what should i tell papa when i see him again?”
“have you lost your mind?” clorinde demands. her poise has vanished. a peculiar sight indeed.
“that is a good place to start, isn't it?” navia laughs.
“you are leaving this infirmary alive.” clorinde unsheathes her sword, and for a minute navia thinks she might threaten her with it. (and, unfortunately, navia did not find herself immediately opposed.)
but then clorinde starts cutting away parts of her dress, and now navia is very much opposed.
“i thought you promised i’d leave with my life!” navia yelps. “chiori–”
“–had no use for that fabric anyway,” clorinde says absentmindedly. “it was unsalvageable."
“this was hand-dyed fabric by ogura mio herself,” navia says with a sort of posh flourish about her tone. “the import fees alone cost me half a million mora! and don't get me started on the torn chiffon of that bow.”
“was that your impression of her?”
“yes. were you convinced?”
“somewhat.”
“i can't mimic her accent. that feels… offensive, somehow.”
“mm.”
navia’s face begins to flush. “can you stop staring at me like that? you’re making me nervous. what with the, ah, bare skin, and all.”
“i’m trying to gauge how much thread i’ll need.” clorinde sounds defensive.
“thread?” navia swallows harshly. “you have to sew it up?”
“sigewinne!” clorinde yells over her shoulder. “where do you keep the– archons, the–”
“localized anesthetic?” her sweet little voice sounds in response. “it’s a bit far. keep pressure on the wound, i’ll bring it to you when i can.”
“another needle?” navia groans.
“just close your– no, don't.” clorinde shakes her head. “please don't. just look at me.”
navia places her hands over clorinde’s trembling fingers “don't be afraid. i’ve had closer calls.”
“i promised him,” clorinde whispers. “he made me swear.”
navia smiles softly. “you’re doing him proud.”
clorinde’s eyes drift to the side. “i hope so.”
“…ah, but thinking about all the repairs is making me wish i’d lose blood faster,” navia sighs, eager to fill the space. pensive silence has never agreed with her. “that meka dealt quite a number to my axe, no? even if chiori doesn't rob me blind, estelle will charge the difference! i’ll have to eat boiled radishes for months.”
clorinde scoffs. “you shouldn't wish for death over a little thing like that.”
“poverty is hardly a little thing, clori.”
“…i’ll cover the sum.”
navia blinks slowly. “sorry?”
“i said, i’ll cover the sum. the iudex is generous with my salary. if it worries you, i’ll take care of it.”
navia’s eyes widen. “i can't possibly.”
“and i’ll have the duke look at your parasol. i’m sure that has sustained some damage as well.”
“don't remind me,” navia groans. “chiori–”
“haven't i told you i’ll manage it? you worry about recovery. i’ll worry about repairs and finances and whatever else it is that’s burdening you.”
“but… archons know how long you’ll make me stay here. i have the rosula to run.”
“i’d advise at least a week of bedrest, with your wounds.” sigewinne comes up behind them, flicking a syringe. “along with plenty of fluid intake, iron-rich foods–”
“hey. i can't stay here for that long! people rely on me–” navia begins to sit upright.
but clorinde restrains her, pressing her forearms into navia’s elbows.
“archons, clorinde, i can see you’re holding back, you know,” navia sighs, more than a bit exasperated. “i’m not fragile.”
“i never implied such a thing.” clorinde scoffs.
“but you are! don't you think i can feel it?” navia tilts her chin up defiantly. “you offer criminals more courtesy. i’m quite offended.”
“you think me incapable of being gentle.”
navia is a bit taken aback. “i never–”
“you put words in my mouth. i am simply returning the favor.”
navia wishes clorinde had not drawn her attention to her mouth.
“i am being gentle, not for your sake, but my own.” clorinde’s voice seemed to be missing its authoritative bite. “i’m holding back, not for your benefit, but mine. i am selfish, vivi. i cannot stomach hurting you any further.”
“i–” navia’s breath is strangled in her throat. “i… understand.”
“do you?” clorinde says weakly.
“we’re the same, you and i.” navia draws a sharp breath in as she feels the prick. she refuses to look, no matter how badly her muscles tense. “papa used to warn me that there was a thin line between ambition and selfishness.”
“though ambition is more flattering.”
navia laughs a hearty laugh despite shaking like a leaf. “i thought the same thing! we can practically read each other's minds. that's why we make such a good team, i figure.”
clorinde wets her lips, gaze drifting to the side. “i’ll trust your assessment on that.”
“it would mark a first, wouldn't it?” navia says, shrugging off the tightness in her shoulders. “you taking my word for things?”
“hush,” clorinde says softly. “don't move.”
and, for once, navia does exactly as she’s told.