Archive of Our Own

The graveyard sat at the top of the hill over Clest, a direct reminder of where every villager would be headed one day. A bit below, the church stood next to the road leading up and in the shadow of it was a small abode for the graveskeeper.

Marcille nearly tripped on the remnants of dead leaves cluttering the side of the road, huffed loudly and held harder onto her heavy bag, reconsidering not for the first time her choice to take so much with her, when she would only be staying a few days to visit Falin. She could already recognize her tall figure in the horizon, passing the gates of the cemetery, a broom in one hand and waving the other in her direction. Had she been less tired, Marcille would have waved back but she needed both arms to carry her belongings.

Once she saw Falin start running towards her however, she dropped everything and extended her arms to catch her into a hug. Or flailed into one, strength leaving her from the swell of emotion and fatigue.

"I missed you so much!" 

"Marcille, it's only been half a year," Falin laughed against her ear, breath warm and hands gently patting the back of her shoulders.

Then she picked up her bag for her and welcomed Marcille inside.

Falin's house was small but well furnished by the previous owner. Her own touch could be felt in the forest treasures gathered around; dried herbs tied upside down from the ceiling, a few wildflowers in a small glass filled with water at the window, mushrooms and nuts overflowing from ceramic bowls on a small table next to the stove. Marcille could also recognize some of her personal effects from their students days, like Falin's favorite ugly robe, big, greyish and tattered at the edges, spread over an armchair that looked pretty ancient itself or her pencils all chewed up at the end, next to an open notebook where she had sketched some of her findings.

While Marcille was taking in this new living space, Falin brought her some water and dried fruits. Those made for a welcome snack while chatting together about how Falin was settling in and how Marcille's latest studies were going.

At some point, Falin showed her a letter from her brother, who had left the army to join a group of adventurers traveling east in search of rare and unknown monsters. He had attached a feather from some exotic creature to the letter and Falin talked with awe of the latest marvels from faraway lands he had witnessed. Marcille nodded politely but her friend's shining eyes stirred uneasy feelings deep inside her. Falin sounded so entranced by those tales and had such longing for the sibling she hadn't seen in years, Marcille almost feared the adventurous girl might want to follow her brother's passions, leaving her far behind.

She centered the conversation back on Falin's duties and they decided to go visit the church.

Unlike a huge port city the size of Kahka Brud, which was a melting pot of cultures, a village in the middle of the continent like Clest only had the one religious building. It was of dwarven architecture, like most ancient structures in the region and once Marcille stepped inside, she could see that in each aisle, alcoves sheltered various figures and icons of faiths. A hardly surprising sight given the numerous beliefs dwarves adopted and how often they shared places of cult between all of them. Perhaps because the most prominent form of worship they usually followed was of expressing one's dedication through creation, be it forging, sculpting or building, they saw this inclusion of various cults in their craft as beneficial to expressing their faith—to an extent; it was still rare to find elvish religious figures in a dwarven church and Marcille kept her hood up while moving inside.

Though Clest had started as a dwarven settlement, houses half-buried at the bottom of the hill, it had extended through the influence of tallmen travelers and merchants passing through the big road towards Kahka Brud. They now made up most of the village's population and notable figures from their folklore and myths also decorated the church, including the side room in which Falin worked to take care of the newly dead.

This large painting of two women was difficult to miss, hung on the wall directly facing the entrance. It represented a well-known story, that of the creation of the sea between the Northern and Central Eastern continents. Leti and Dinah, the lifelong friends—though some versions presented them as sisters—were separated by death as the first cradled the second in her arms, her sadness so strong and lasting the tears running from her eyes formed a great body of water.

Such depiction of grief fit the place perfectly and Marcille's heart clenched a bit from knowing Falin would be working there in the next years, right under a representation of her worst fears.

But Falin didn't appear bothered in the least by the austere atmosphere that soaked this room where so many corpses had been brought, perhaps already used to it. Since her arrival, she had acknowledgedly taken care of four villagers and one vagabond that had passed away near Clest. A few hamlets around it were also under her jurisdiction. She smoothly explained to Marcille the details of her past works while moving around the room.

Soon after she was finished, time came to close down the church. They saluted the old dwarf in charge of the place as they passed by.

The sun already had disappeared behind the hills when they left and the road only stayed visible thanks to the last streaks of reds and yellows in the darkened sky. Having only a few seconds of walking to do to reach Falin's house, they didn't bother using a lighting spell but they still huddled close under the cold wind of this late autumn night. Marcille looked up towards the stars, instinctively searching for her father's favorite constellation which could be seen early this season. Unfortunately, clouds covered most of the sky above them.

Inside, Falin started preparing dinner. Marcille, who preferred to eat good food made by others, wasn't one to cook much but she helped in peeling some of the vegetables and set the table. The meal consisted of soup, bread and cheese, a pretty simple supper whose warmth brought by each spoonful pleasantly soothed Marcille's stomach.

When it came time to go to sleep, Falin offered her the bed and started pulling out a hammock but Marcille stopped her and convinced her that they could very well share, given its generous size.

"I suppose, there's enough space for two. The previous owner had a companion they lived with, after all."

That mention startled Marcille, pulling uncomfortably on her insides with a heavy weight. One day, Falin too would probably share her life with someone else and Marcille might not be able to spend moments like this with her anymore.

She patted her cheeks, trying to chase away depressing thoughts and slipped under the covers. Falin was still so young and they surely had plenty of time to enjoy the friendship they had started at the academy, sleeping together in one bed just like back then. Well, it seemed pretty similar at first at least but in this unfamiliar bed, where a couple had slept, she noticed more easily somehow how grown up Falin was. The length of her shoulders next to Marcille's and the size of her hand against hers had something impressive to it. The small contact tickled her skin all over and when she squirmed around, trying to find a better position to fall asleep, she ended up with her face really close to Falin's chest.

Lying still, she could hear her breathing and feel the warmth of her body as her breasts heaved slightly with each inspiration. Those were another surprising sign that Falin wasn't quite the little kid she had met a decade ago anymore, one she desperately tried to shut off and ignore. Tallmen were big in all kinds of ways, she reminded herself, this didn't mean anything.

Back when they did sleepovers at the academy, Marcille also had trouble sleeping at first, because of the excitement of sharing all kinds of things with her new friend. She had wanted to chat the whole night, to exchange secrets, hold hands, brush Falin's hair, make special promises and every other lovely signs of affection between friends she had only encountered in novels previously. Those happy thoughts of long-held dreams coming true at last had gotten her giddy up to dawn.

This night on the other hand, what stirred in Marcille's stomach and prickled at her brain felt more like anxiousness, the kind that would keep her up and sap her energy until she fell into restless slumber. The warmth of dinner had been replaced with a more uncomfortable one, too hot, which itched her skin and left her hands and head moist with sweat. At least, Falin appeared to already be sleeping and wouldn't see her like this but it didn't diminish much the embarrassment that crawled over her flesh against all reason.

Marcille awoke late the next morning, unsurprisingly. While washing her face, she admonished herself for getting so in her head about silly anxieties when she should have been enjoying being reunited with Falin. This discomfort had probably been brought by seeing that painting at the church and being a bit more aware of how grown-up—closer to death—her young friend appeared now that she had a job.

Panicking so soon was silly; Marcille's researches at the academy were going well enough despite the many interdictions regarding ancient magics and if need be, she had plans on where to go next for further learning. That in mind, Marcille resolved to focus on spending a good time for the duration of her stay here.

After a nice breakfast of bread with wildberries jelly that one of the villagers had gifted Falin, they took the road to the graveyard. Falin's duties included watching over the place most mornings and evenings, to check nothing was amiss, as well as doing some cleaning of the place.

While she worked, Marcille walked through the small alleys, looking at the dwarven tombstones with curiosity.

She had only really visited one cemetery before, the one where her father was buried. Marcille frequently went to see him, despite the pain, to remind herself of what she had lost and what she needed to do. Since they had lived in a tiny village with mostly tallmen, she had never seen the elaborately sculpted ores that marked the burial ground of deceased dwarves.

Most of them looked to be built in the same style and since Marcille wasn't particularly versed in dwarven history or religions, she couldn't tell if the distinctions in the few exceptions she noticed had to do with differences in ranks, culture or beliefs. However, she did recognize one sculpted figure of their goddess of the underworld, an older dwarf woman with a long braided beard, who used a shovel like a cane. Statues of her had been recovered from some of the oldest dungeons in the Eastern continent and she was also present in the tale of Hagane and Ruby, the tragic lovers.

It had been one amongst many of Marcille's bedtime stories. She remembered well the deep tones her father would take when portraying the dwarves. His voice turned rough as Hagane pleaded with the goddess to retrieve his lost love from the underworld and that, touched by his affection, she cut part of her long, long beard so that he could throw it as a rope to Ruby. The goddess warned him that he should be careful not to be rough with the magic hair or it would break but Hagane was impatient. As he watched Ruby climb the rope, the closer she came, the longer it seemed to take. Just when she was about to reach him, he couldn't resist anymore and pulled on the rope to bring her up but that only caused it to tear.

In most written records of the tale, Ruby fell back in the underworld, forever lost. In the story Marcille's father told however, Hagane caught her hand just in time before she fell out of his grasp. Perhaps he had thought the ending would be too hard for his daughter, perhaps he found it too sad himself or maybe it had simply been the version he had been told as child and remembered. Marcille never got the occasion to ask him about it.

Watching that sculpted goddess, stone eyes turned downward with a compassionate expression, Marcille reminded herself again to be patient in her studies.

The afternoon pulled her away from such thoughts with a trip in the forest down the other side of the hill. Falin was excited to show her all the spots she had found during her strolls there so they had a big walk through trails created by the local woodcutters but also on some others, less established paths.

They met various animals along the way, birds singing high up in the trees, a resting deer that jumped through bushes after being startled by their approach and a good number of critters Marcille would rather not have seen: spiders, slugs and crawling insects out and about thanks to the humidity of the woods, fitting for the season. The plants were of more interest, the forest seemingly rich in medicinal herbs and rare essences, as well as all kinds of edible foods from fruits and berries to mushrooms and chestnuts, the later of which Falin had been wanting to collect.

Once they reached a spot where the ground was littered with spiky burrs, they started searching through them. Quite a few had already been taken apart by wild animals so they took some time to gather a nice haul. Marcille was careful not to get prickled but prudence couldn't always overcome clumsiness and after leaning over to grab a chestnut that had rolled away, she accidentally grazed her fingers against the spikes of another.

She let out a sharp cry and a drop of blood formed at the tip of her index, where a thin line of skin had broken. Falin moved up to Marcille, catching her hand in hers while the blood trickled down. Calmly, she chanted a spell and the scratch closed itself.

A pleasant shiver went through Marcille's back at the melodious song and the warm touch of Falin's hand.

"You didn't need to use your magic to heal something so small."

"Maybe. But I felt like it and it's good to practice. Healing the living isn't really the same as cleaning up the wounds of the dead." 

She held her hand out to Marcille to help her get up. Even though Falin had offered it so many times to her since first showing Marcille the natural dungeon in the academy's forest, something made her hesitate before taking it. Her flesh tickled at the contact but she told herself it was just the result of the remaining pain from the healing spell.

After this long afternoon walk, Marcille felt exhausted and certain that she would have less trouble falling asleep that night. She went into bed yawning, her hand brushing against Falin's when she put it down.

Like in the afternoon, her skin was full of warmth, of life. It brought her comfort, to feel how far that hand was from the bony fingers on thin, dry flesh of her father's towards the end. She refrained from indulging too much in the pleasant thickness of the palm under her thumb but the moment she withdrew her hand, Falin caught it and held it back. This was all she needed to drift into sleep.

The next day was the last Marcille would be here. They didn't do much, only went to visit the central square of the village and pick up some goods Falin needed, then lazed around the rest of the day, chatting and reading by the fire.

"You're really going to be alone for the new year? Should I come visit you?" Marcille asked, when the topic of what they'd do in the next few months came up.

Falin seemed overjoyed by the prospect. They immediately started planning for it and that helped Marcille feel less sad about leaving.

The following morning, before she got up the merchant's wagon that would bring her back to Kahka Brud, Falin gave her dried fruits to eat during the travel. Marcille watched her stand and wave on the road while the wagon slowly took her away, remembering that a similar scene had played in reverse the day Falin left the academy after getting her diploma. She waved back for a while and kept looking even after that at the small figure, until Falin finally turned away to go back to her job and home.

The road that led to the graveyard was covered in snow, crackling under Marcille's footsteps. She took a deep breath once she reached the door of Falin's house and knocked.

Loud footsteps thundered from the other side and Falin opened the door with a huge swing, hair disheveled and a cooking spoon in hand.

"Marcille! You're early."

After awkwardly smoothing out her clothes and the top of her head, she let her in. Papercuttings inspired by those they used to make at school for holiday meals decorated the main room, together with a garland of holly and mistletoe. Falin hurried back to the stove, where their dinner was still cooking, to check the state of it. She stroked the embers for a bit then rejoined Marcille, who had been taking off her belongings, and gave her a big hug.

The warmth of the house made for a welcome respite from the cold outside and Falin's body heat even more so.

"Oh, looks like we're under it," Falin noted, pointing at the mistletoe above them.

It was a popular kissing custom at school, during the winter festivities season, especially amongst gnomish students. There'd be laughter and shouts as they carried the plant around and took contrived detours to avoid or create encounters. Marcille had been pretty self-conscious about it herself; while she enjoyed the friendly physical intimacy, she didn't much like being surprised. And so she surveyed each of the spots where mistletoe hung and which students moved around in what directions, to be ready for anything.

Her attention especially intensified when it came to Falin, since she didn't want to make a fool of herself by botching a kiss with her closest friend in choosing the wrong time and place. Marcille carefully considered her options, making sure to avoid any unfortunate meeting before she had decided on the perfect spot and in doing so, realized after five days of reflections that thinking that hard about it was probably pretty unhinged.

Feeling all embarrassed about that, she had tried to forget it and their first mistletoe kiss ended-up being a total accident.

Marcille had been following Falin through a backdoor to have fun outside in the snow—and remind her when to leave not to be late for the next class—but once they reached the other side, they saw that someone had attached a big, round clump of mistlete on top of the doorway. A dirty trap for those who sneaked around that way.

Past the first moment of surprise, Falin had shrugged and obeyed the rules of the silly game, smiling while giving Marcille's cheek a little kiss.

Being taken aback like this had felt both upsetting and strangely nice. Marcille returned the gesture but in her haste to not miss the right moment and move too late, she had failed to kiss her right in the middle of her rosy cheek, her lips brushing against the hair near her earlobe instead.

Despite this embarrassing mistake, Marcille had beamed with giddiness from finally getting in on the little custom and since Falin didn't seem bothered, she had supposed it was all good. After that, they kissed many more times under the mistletoes spread in the various hallways during winter season and those little moments, even once she got used to it, never quite stopped bringing a thrilling sensation at the tip of Marcille's skin, like the shivering caress of a brush against it.

It had only been a year since they'd last stepped under mistletoe at the magic academy, so Marcille shouldn't have been out of touch with it but perhaps because of the different conditions, she still felt a brief moment of anxiety before putting her lips on Falin's cheek.

When Falin kissed back, she did it incredibly close to Marcille's mouth, leaving her shaken and blushing, her whole face hot.

By the time it took Marcille to regain her composure, Falin had already moved on, starting to clean up the table and put what was on it to the side. This included a few opened letters and more papers half-scribbled with answers to those.

Marcille knew Falin's parents had been worried about her graveskeeper job as it apparently wasn't the most well-regarded work in their village, something which she found absolutely ridiculous. Falin regularly gave them news of her good health and daily life. The other letters came from her brother, still living the adventuring life out there, wandering into uncertain territories. Sending him answers could be difficult with how much he moved but Falin had wanted to wish him a happy new year and so she told Marcille she'd been writing him a long letter, even though it would probably only reach him months after the fact, if he got it as intended.

Falin recounted some of his adventures over dinner, stars in her eyes and a lilt in her voice at the stories of dangerous battles with monsters and dungeon explorations. She looked so enthralled that uneasiness started to crawl at the back of Marcille's throat like the previous time. She couldn't help fearing that learning all those stories from this brother Falin admired so much would tempt her into imitating him. Just like she used to sneak out of the academy to explore the forest, perhaps she'd try going to one of the cities with a dungeon just a day's worth of travel away. And then who knew what would happen. 

Marcille interrupted her to subtly bring the conversation back to Falin's daily life and job, hoping her responsabilities to be enough to keep her where she was safe.

Falin answered her questions about how her work went but didn't spend too long delving on it, pushing the topic instead towards Marcille's own activities. Soon enough, they were discussing magical theories, up to and until they finished their dessert, a fruit breadcake with lots of nuts Falin still had left from her gathering days back in autumn.

From time to time, they could hear some singing coming from the church right behind the house, in which the village's dwarves had assembled for their own ceremonies. It sounded pretty different from the kind of soft, melodious prayers Marcille had heard sung by elves during a visit in the West. Loud, high notes resonated strongly as if they were a cry coming from deep underground and then, suddendly, they turned into a deep mumble which sunk in the bones, vibrating, like the rumbling of the earth or a great wave coming to submerge her.

Marcille couldn't quite say if she liked it or not but it was certainly intense and memorable. Next to her, Falin listened with her eyes closed.

Soon after midnight, they were ready to go to bed and the noises slipping in from outside shifted to joyous shouts and laughter, the dwarves partying on into the new year. Marcille was tired from the long journey and quickly fell asleep. In her dreams, she saw Falin bent on a shovel, digging holes in the ground but instead of earth, only a void of emptiness was left down them.

When she woke up at dawn, such an eerie vision as her first dream of the year appeared like a potential bad omen. It felt a little silly once she was really woken up however, after having bathed herself and gotten breakfast with Falin. The hot tea soothed her mind and the breadcake leftovers filled her stomach such that no place was left for worries.

Marcille would leave the next day so she had to make the most of the following hours, which probably also played a part in her shifting mood.

She wasn't alone in that thought, Falin fretted over what activities to do together, looking more agitated than she usually did. When they had to part too, she grabbed onto Marcille's hands, telling her she'd be looking forwards to her next visit. Her voice sounded almost close to breaking, as if the words were said in prayer that she would come back as quickly as possible.

Of course, Marcille wanted to see her again the sooner she could and she expressed that wish with a soft "See you soon" before kissing her cheek, since they had been standing near the mistletoe again.

Unfortunately, her studies took more of her attention than planned and it was late spring by the time Marcille came back. Looking around after knocking on the door to no answer, she saw Falin walking down the hill from the cemetery in her direction. She wasn't alone anymore but had a big fluffy brown dog next to her.

Toto barked with excitement as he ran around and around, chasing his tail or butterflies, before suddendly stopping to look in the direction of the road. An old dwarf in ceremonial robes that Marcille vaguely remembered seeing at the church was walking up towards them. The woman waved at Falin, then patted Toto's head when the dog came sniffing her up.

"Nice of you to come visit," she later told Marcille, "I was wondering if she was perhaps getting lonely, after she took Toto in. The job is quiet and while our community has been growing, it's not the busiest place."

Marcille knew Falin wasn't the most social of people, always the outcast at the academy. Still, she got a bit worried upon hearing this, that her situation in Clest might not be as nice as she had understood.

The dwarf quickly eased her worries, assuring her that everyone around was happy with Falin's work and appreciated her gentle personality. More visits around the village appeared to corroborate those words, though it also brought a different kind of issue, when a shopkeeper teased Falin about a date she supposedly had with their son.

This revelation left Marcille aghast and Falin's subdued reaction of shrugging when she interrogated her about it in private shocked her even more.

"It was just one time, after he asked me. Not a big deal."

"It is a big deal! You only arrived here recently."

"One year ago isn't that recent."

Falin looked away then shifted her focus to petting Toto, avoiding Marcille's inquisitive gaze. For a little while, the only thing that could be heard in the room were the happy huffs of a pampered dog.

Since Marcille couldn't even put words on her unease at the news, she gave up and tried to occupy herself by washing the dishes of their last meal.

Part of her was terribly curious and wanted to ask all the details about it to Falin but an incomprehensible anger also prickled her at the thought of that date. It somehow felt like jealousy but she wasn't sure if it was more towards Falin for experiencing things Marcille might not be able to behind her back or because of her fear that a romantic partner would take Falin away from her, occupying all her time and attention.

After wiping her plate way more than necessary, she spared a glance towards Falin, who was filling Toto's water bowl.

"Are you thinking about stuff like marriage?"

Her throat had turned painfully dry and a heavy weight pulled on her stomach, just from asking such a thing.

"Not really," Falin answered with a flat voice.

"Right, you're still pretty young for that after all."

"It wouldn't be too strange for someone my age to marry actually. My parents even had a suitor in mind, before they learnt I would work here."

Marcille grimaced, barely able to process the idea. Falin stood up and took the cleaned dishes from her to put them in the shelf.

Perhaps it was also the passage of time implied by such an event that bothered her. This too came along with getting older and closer to dying. While they were both at the academy, that all felt much too far away for her to start worrying about it. She could enjoy their shared everyday life, seemingly unchanging and neatly ordered between sleep, classes, meals and free time.

Toto left the water he had been lapping at to come near them, his black little eyes shifting from one to the other, like he was sensing the current tension and trying to understand what was going on. Unless Marcille was simply projecting her own confusion on the funny-looking doggie with his long fur and flat nose.

"I just thought... I mean," she fumbled on the words before managing to admit what she felt, "I guess I was anxious about things changing now that you're working and with us not being able to see each other as much. The idea of parting away is... It hurts to imagine it happening."

"Marcille, I don't want us to be separated either! And I hope we'll always be able to see each other, to stay together. If you want to."

Falin linked their hands together and the gesture hit Marcille with the strength of an electric shock. Handholding, which used to be so simple and nice, had like too many things gained a complexity that made it almost painful.

But Falin had said "always". The word carried eternity with it and the perspective that perhaps she understood, that she would agree with Marcille's wish of never being separated by old age and different lifespans.

"Always and forever?"

Falin squinted, her already rosy cheeks turning more vivid.

"Hm. But weren't you saying I was too young for that a minute before?"

"Uh?"

Marcille's lack of comprehension appeared to take Falin aback at first and then she smiled softly and answered "Nevermind" which, in most circumstances, Marcille might have just taken at face value. However, this was an important subject on which she very much desired an answer and such an evasive response to it meant that she couldn't let the question go so easily. In fact, the more she thought back on it, the more Marcille felt like there was something crucial she had missed.

So she tried to find the meaning behind this during the remainder of her ten days vacation at Falin's house and on the very last, she had a guess at a possible answer, though it was one she had trouble ascertaining the probability of.

But perhaps, just perhaps, Falin was experiencing some form of attraction towards her.

Marcille had kept telling herself that her friend was too young for relationships and the disinterest she manifested in the romantic epics Marcille loved to read had played into that. She'd never showed any special curiosity towards boys or anyone else, which Marcille hadn't thought twice about at the time but if she looked at it from the other direction, the way Falin acted around her was an exception. She had no point of comparison to tell how differently Falin might have behaved with friends or the one she was in love with and keeping that in mind, suddendly, a lot of their past interactions took on a more ambiguous tone.

All kinds of memories of shy smiles and soft glances were coming back to her. Falin's little gifts of food had seemed like eccentricities but she had been so insistent with them, like a deeper meaning could be found in there. Perhaps this had been the only way for her to express a sign of love, to give a shape to emotions she might not have fully understood yet.

But Marcille might have been projecting on that bit too. After all, even though she did love to hear and read about romance, she hadn't really considered it happening to her outside of vague fantasies. Her different life span, as always, put many hurdles in front of her. For a long time, the uneven aging made it hard for Marcille to guess at what exact stage of growing she stood at and whether she felt ready for love and relationships. Being with someone meant confronting even more brutally the challenge of her longer lifespan in the first place and to experience the kind of heartbreak she had witnessed her mother going through.

Marcille's infertility consisted another, though less important, potential issue. While she didn't mind it and wasn't sure she'd ever want to have children either, she understood it could prove a breaking point for a partner. Going through a conflict because of this appeared like another harrowing prospect.

For those many reasons, she had avoided making any plans regarding romance. But now that she searched for hints of Falin's true feelings, she needed to confront her own relationship to her best friend. Marcille hadn't seen it in romantic terms but she had cherished their closeness, the physical intimacy of their adolescent years. She also had more than once pictured a beautiful, ideal future in which they would keep studying and living together, hand in hand.

The image had been fairly innocent. In her dream, they both had their own chamber and special study, like lifelong roommates. Some of her fantasies had also included long cuddles, taking care of each other's hair and falling asleep while reading together by the fire on cold winter days, all of which could be interpreted as moments of deep friendship but also be seen under a romantic lense. If she tried to add the perspective of a couple to the picture, with daily kisses, petting, declarations of love and bed sharing, Marcille found herself getting terribly embarrassed and giddy, the images blooming in her mind too overwhelming for her to continue on that track.

In the first place, she wasn't sure she had correctly interpreted Falin's feelings and with her visit about to end, Marcille didn't dare confront her directly about it. She considered saying something, trying to get a more satisfactory hint while they were saying their goodbyes but she found herself tongue-tied in the moment, only able to nod and feel her cheeks warm and her eyes water when Falin told her she hoped to see her soon.

Marcille started walking down the road and Toto followed her, barking intermittently as if wondering where she was going or whether they were leaving for a stroll. He stopped when Falin called up to him and stood there, wagging his tail as Marcille waved the both of them back before getting on the wagon for Kahka Brud.

And then she had until the next time she'd meet with Falin to stew in her feelings.

Marcille didn't want to be in love with her. This would be a terrible idea, only bringing her more ache and future pains if she didn't achieve her goal in time. It also meant risking the safe, comfortable friendship they had for something of a potentially more ephemeral nature. She had to ignore the pleasant shivers that followed the smallest thought about what that relationship could be like, had to push back against the longing she experienced for more gestures of affection, of love.

For the first month of summer, Marcille wrestled with what to do and when she went to visit Falin for a few more days, she had no better idea of her next steps than when she had previously left.

An awkward tension permeated this whole trip, each of them seemingly unable to gauge the right distance between them anymore. Marcille feared that Falin sensed her doubts and acted distant in reaction, not knowing where to put herself. With her mind still confused, she couldn't say anything to prevent it and spent those few days trying to pretend everything was fine, while overanalyzing every action from Falin for a definitive answer on her feelings.

The summer heat discouraged them from doing many outside activities, though they did take short walks under the pleasant shade of the forest's trees. Toto accompanied them and spent the rest of the time splayed lazily on the chill stones inside the house. He'd occasionally raise his head, checking whether something notable had happened during his nap, then would go back to sleep, disinterested by the awkward atmosphere in the room.

While going at the village's center square, Marcille got to see the shopkeeper's son for the first time and nearly freaked out, trying to ascertain his intentions towards Falin and how Falin herself behaved with him. She managed to control herself and act natural—at least, she was pretty sure she did!—as well as confirm that nothing between them had been happening since her last visit. Marcille didn't mean to be nosy but the news he apparently had moved on certainly comforted her.

The vacation concluded without much change and when Marcille found herself alone with her studies once more, another bout of fretting started. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder, it looked like, because after this new separation the accumulated tension of being in Falin's presence released all at once and blowed past the confused state of her feelings, right into frustrated incomprehension over how oblivious she'd been.

How could she not have recognized much earlier that she'd fallen in love with her best friend, Marcille wondered regularly, racking her brain like she would do after easily reaching the answer to a magical problem that had left her dumbfounded for days. It should have been obvious, with how charming those soft red cheeks and that gentle eccentricity of Falin had appeared to her. She had avoided facing this, letting herself enjoy every gesture and moment of love with a child's simplicity, ignorant for her own protection.

But Marcille couldn't deny it anymore, not to herself and probably not to Falin either. A sudden inspiration led her to try to put everything down to paper and she wrote a very long letter where she poured all the emotions passing through her to convey the depth of them to Falin. She sent it immediately, before she could reconsider, then spent the following days stressing over this being the biggest mistake of her life.

When a letter from Falin came, it didn't carry a clear answer to her declaration. In fact, Falin appeared to have been a bit confused by the many metaphors and purple prose Marcille had used to attempt to convey her love, though she assured her she'd enjoyed hearing from her in such detail. She told her about how Toto and others in the village were doing, then mentioned she had gotten news from her brother Laios, who would be coming back in the region around winter.

A more direct approach looked to be a necessary next step. The news of Falin's sibling showing up soon put some pressure on Marcille too. She didn't know how his reappearance might impact things or whether he'd approve of her around his sister. Falin had complimented him whenever he came up in their discussions so she didn't have a bad impression of him exactly but she also thought his adventuring life didn't sound like the most steady one. If he decided to take a prolonged break by staying at Falin's place for who knew how long, this would completely change the mood during Marcille's visits.

She had to act before that and this was how she found herself in front of Falin's door with a big bouquet of flowers, on an early autumn afternoon. A romantic gift with a lot of symbolic meanings sounded like the ideal way to make her feelings known.

Falin accepted the bouquet with a wide smile, looking at and smelling the flowers while thanking her profusely, telling her how nice they were. When she moved into the house to put them in water, Marcille gathered she needed to add some explanations. She started from top to bottom of the bouquet, mentioning even the alternate meanings from both tallmen and elvish flowers language which she had taken into careful consideration while picking each flower. Just as she was about halfway through, Falin took Marcille's hand in hers, stopping her in her tracks.

"Thank you Marcille, I think I get it."

And then she kissed her on the mouth. There hadn't even been any mistletoe in the bouquet.

But it only meant things were going as planned and Marcille wasn't panicking at all. She just needed to take a deep breath because she wasn't sure she had been remembering to inhale or exhale for the duration of the kiss. If she had known this would happen that fast, she would have studied some theory on the subject of making outs beforehand and it was deeply unfair of Falin to take her by surprise like that, even though she evidently was much more into learning through technical practice herself.

"Can... can we do it one more time?" Marcille asked, determined to get it right on the second attempt.

While Falin moved closer, she saw from the corner of her eye Toto come in from the backroom's flap door. He gave them a look then turned around to go elsewhere, either having better things to do than stay here or maybe sensing that he wouldn't get any attention in those conditions.

Marcille's autumn trip was short but eventful. 

She had always stuck close to Falin whenever she visited but they were even more attached at the hips now and she followed her through every graveyard checking round as well as all her other duties. They would huddle close to whisper words meant for each other's ears only, drop soft kisses on yet untouched spots of their faces or intertwine arms and fingers at any possible moment. In the evening, when Marcille took a bit of time to work on her academic researches, Falin would sit next to her to be the most unexpectedly pleasant distraction that she had ever encountered in her life. And Marcille usually hated being disrupted from her work.

They also lost a few hours of sleep every night there, the colder days lending themselves to long embraces. Falin was very imaginative and kept surprising Marcille.

"How did you learn something like that?" she asked again and again, astounded and Falin just shrugged, saying she hadn't learnt anything in particular and just tried what came to mind.

Some of it felt weird but overall, Marcille was intrigued enough to want to try most of what she offered. This resulted in the discovery of many new sensations she hadn't been aware she could feel and a few misses that thankfully weren't too bothersome.

Marcille too had things she wanted to do, mostly stuff she'd read in books. Kissing on an old, bucolic looking bridge like the one Falin had shown to her on a previous visit, kissing under an archway protecting them from a downpour—not too hard to achieve in autumn with the frequent rains—and kissing in bed before falling asleep, which did happen multiple times right after the kind of steamy action that still made her blush. Perhaps her wishes weren't exactly original but doing them filled her with joy all the same.

One they couldn't quite manage had been a kiss over a balcony, since Falin didn't have one, but making out while leaning over the window's frame ended-up being a very decent compromise.

The last day of her stay turned out even more agonizing than usual. Marcille feared what this separation would mean for their brief, new relationship. Still, they had to go along with it, like always.

She wrote longer letters to Falin, trying to put her love into each word, in between working on her thesis. Near the end of spring, her time as a researcher at the magic academy would be over and she needed to finish her work there by then. Because of this, she unfortunately couldn't see Falin much until everything was done.

Marcille didn't let herself be sad about that fact however, since it also meant she'd be able to start the next part of her goal and study the ancient magics present in dungeons. The time they lost now to be together could easily be caught up with later, having so many more centuries to share between them.

They still made plans to see each other for new year's eve, like the previous winter. Laios had tried to make it for that date but had been delayed and would only arrive the next week, which meant Marcille would miss meeting him on that occasion. She had to admit she felt some relief at that, wanting more alone time with Falin and being uncertain about meeting part of her family so soon in their new relationship.

They would have to greet each other's parents at one point obviously, but the thought of introducing Falin to her mother also felt a bit daunting. Marcille was sure her mom would like Falin very much but she could imagine the look of pity on her face upon learning her daughter too had the misery of falling for someone that would live such a short life. Bringing the past heartbreak her mother had experienced to the forefront of her mind wasn't something Marcille wished to inflige on her, nor did she want to see it poison how the early happiness of her relationship with Falin would be perceived.

Such an encounter might have to be saved for when she'd have finally corrected the severe injustices of the current world. Then it would only bring joy and heartfelt congratulations.

But she still had a long way before that and when she knocked on the door of Falin's house, on the last day of the year, Marcille worried more about whether this love burning hot and painful in her chest hadn't disappeared within her other half because of their separation.

Toto's excited barks at her arrival were the first noise she heard, then the door slowly opened. Falin stood in the frame, her bigger figure and gentle smile terribly familiar, a balm for the soul. They gazed at each other, losing themselves in the sight of the features they already knew by heart, before she finally spoke.

"You aren't kissing me, Marcille?"

She pointed up. Over the door frame, mistletoe had been pinned.

After new year, the next time Falin and Marcille saw each other was to celebrate Marcille's thesis completion. The house had been decorated with plenty of fresh flowers, as well as some remaining ribbons and other ornaments used in the end of the year party they had held on her previous stay.

Plates of foods crowded the table, together with salty cakes, salads, appetizers, some traditional biscuits from Kahka Brud and an apple pie. They even had taken a bit of wine, Marcille considering that the occasion landed itself to trying it, although she rarely enjoyed alcohol. With only the two of them, it was a fairly quiet event but they still stayed up late, enjoying themselves in the comfortable warmth of the decorated room.

Night had fallen a while ago when Falin, holding onto her empty glass and looking down at it, murmured softly: "I'm jealous of you and my brother."

They had just been discussing Marcille's upcoming first trip down a dungeon. It wasn't hard from there to guess what Falin meant by this and it brought back to the surface the anguish Marcille had felt upon hearing Laios would visit.

Falin's brother had apparently stayed there for a month before going back to traveling, in search of lesser known dungeons and monsters. The gifts he'd brought had been proudly displayed by Falin in her house. He hadn't left her just that however, Marcille supposed, but also might have put some ideas in her head. While Falin was extremely talented at magic, Marcille didn't want her anywhere near the dangers of a dungeon if it could be helped. She had complicated feelings on the matter herself; although the powers embedded into the enormous mazes and the secrets those protected fascinated her, she wasn't impressed with what she knew of the kind of people who made their living in there. Of course, some mercenaries were necessary to suppress monsters and help with researches into the dungeons but she would rather not have seen Falin associate with shady adventurers.

Her arguments sounded very sensible and rational in her head but when Marcille tried to explain how she wasn't doing this dangerous work for fun and to remind Falin that her own job was impressive and important in its own right, she didn't feel like the words were coming out as confidently as assumed. Perhaps because the morose face Falin was pulling at her speech—not unlike Toto's sad look whenever he was told he couldn't do something—deflated the righteousness of her good intentions.

"Yes, you're right, of course," Falin told her at the end.

Lying wasn't something Marcille thought this darling angel could do but she knew her feelings weren't totally into it and she squeezed her hand, trying to comfort her.

"Maybe we should go on a trip at some point though, now that my own studies are over and I have more time. A little adventure for us both, perhaps to an old capital city or even overseas."

"That would be lovely!"

A true smile formed back on Falin's lips and with it, Marcille's heart warmed up.

When they went to sleep, she caught sight of the hammock that had probably been put to use while Laios stayed there, still set at the other end of the bedroom. Falin hadn't pulled it away yet.

Marcille turned away from that corner and started kissing Falin, eyes closed, keeping it out of her view.

In the first months of her dungeon  research, Marcille traveled to a variety of them around Kahka Brud, learning a bit more about the trade and searching for informations on whether any of those could theorically lead her to the kind of magic that would alter lifespans. Thankfully, she got some help and recommendations from the academy about trusted adventurers she could employ, which helped on that front.

Despite not going very deep, the dives into the dungeons were intense, taking up to a week before moving back up to the surface. Between them however, she left herself enough free time to regularly meet with Falin. They took a few sightseeing trips in various towns around Clest, little travels that only lasted a few days but left her with many dear memories.

Toto came with them on a few of those but otherwise stayed with Olga, the old dwarven church lady, for the longer journeys. He appeared to be very cross with Falin the first time it happened but the toy souvenir she brought back for him charmed the dog right away and his displeasure melted on the spot. He spent the next week carrying the little wooden trinket everywhere.

Marcille bought gifts for Falin too, eager to spoil her whenever she came back from a dungeon exploration. She knew which foods would be a sure way to please her but she sometimes offered her clothes too, when she saw some that she thought would look wonderful on her, despite knowing Falin wasn't likely to wear them often. Part of what motivated her was guilt, without a doubt, especially when Falin asked her to talk about her latest discoveries. The enthralled look in her eyes got Marcille's throat to clench everytime but she felt unable to deny this request and deprive her of the small joy she received from living those adventures secondhand.

In all those discussions, Marcille still avoided giving too many details on the nature of her research, unsure about whether she should one day need to bring up the subject.

After over a year of looking around various dungeons on the western side of the continent, it became harder and harder to ignore the reputation of the Island. Marcille had avoided starting there because the need for a ship complicated the coming-and-goings, from Merini to Kahka Brud and then from there to Clest. It would all take up three to four days, so choosing to explore this particular dungeon would leave her with a lot less free time to share with Falin.

But many of the rumors on it sounded incredibly promising for her goals. A thousand years old kingdom was bound to have some really ancient magic traces and if that supposed king had really been who he proclaimed to be, then he had lived longer than any other tallman. Marcille had to go there eventually and the sooner might have been the better. With those considerations taken, she said her goodbyes to Falin on one misty morning, took the meal that had been prepared for her and left after petting Toto, who gave her a reproachful glance that Falin did not.

The first few weeks on the Island were spent gathering actual knowledge about the place, confirming or denying some rumors and then trying to find a trustworthy party able to bring her deeper into this dungeon than she had been with any of the others.

Marcille had a feeling with this one, she could sense a pull, like a certitude all her answers waited for her at the bottom. A mad mage shouldn't have been someone she'd want to interact with; such a nickname would have made her recoil in any other case and yet, she was desperate to ask them a thousand questions.

Three months in, she had only left to see Falin once, quickly, when her party fell into some money troubles and needed a bit of time before going back inside the dungeon. After that, it was straight down the dark corridors and endless stairways again. Marcille had experienced it previously but she found herself overwhelmed at times by the massive amount of magical energy flooding the whole place. The walls, the ceilings, the floors, all were attuned to that flow and followed its pace, shifting form, twisting themselves as the lord of the dungeon willed it.

An innumerable amount of tales and myths tried to make sense of what dungeons were, how they were created and what lied at the bottom center of those constructs. Magical theory could only explain part of it at that point, at least with what stayed available to the public. Marcille couldn't take a guess at how much more one would manage to learn by being granted access to the most buried secrets of the Elven monarchy and its special forces.

While she had been very doubtful of the belief that dungeons reached into the center of the earth before diving into one herself, she could more easily understand how such an idea had sprouted into people's minds after taking a look into the dark depths of the gigantic architecture that kept going down, down, down, so much further than the eye could perceive. Traveling for hours and days, she rapidly lost sense of how far below she had reached. Dwarves were better equipped for dealing with that and perhaps this was why they had more legends of benevolent figures living underground than other people. Where most only pictured monsters spilling from the belly of the earth, their original god slept at the core of the world, infinitely old and infinitely young, a baby inside the egg it had created. The logistics of what would happen if one digged far enough to awake it were naturally highly debated.

Marcille's own sleep was often perturbed underground, no matter how tired she got by the day's expedition. As she moved to the deeper levels of the Island's dungeon however, she started to feel like she was becoming better rested and even that she had pleasant dreams, though she didn't remember them at first.

She picked up details little by little, of peaceful white space, a figure with angelic features, huge feathers, soft fur and the feeling that someone was calling up to her.

It dawned on her while she was washing her face over a basin, looking at the lion statue from which water poured. This animal, supposed to be some protective symbol or guardian of the lost kingdom, was what she had been seeing. At first she thought she had only been dreaming of it because statues and other representations of the Winged Lion were present everywhere around but it kept appearing in her sleep, now much more clearly, telling her it needed her help. Beautiful wings flapped behind her, protecting her, guiding her towards it.

The Lion revealed to Marcille the secrets of this dungeon and begged her to free it from the clutches of the mad mage. The tome that he showed her had all the answers she seeked, if only she could get her hands on it.

Marcille pushed her party to keep moving but they lacked resources, were exhausted; they had to rise back up. With anguish weighting on every part of her body, Marcille pulled away from the downward force that beckoned her.

And then the Canaries came, locked down everything, killed the mad mage and the whole dungeon crumbled in on itself.

The adventurers could only watch as their livehood turned to dust. Marcille looked with them, her dream crushed beneath the rumbles.

Falin's body was warm and soft. Marcille didn't want to feel anything other than this.

She leaned her head further in, comfortably nuzzling herself between her girlfriend's arm and chest, where she could smell the scent of her naked body she knew by heart. Her hand lazily ran over Falin's skin in light strokes until her fingers met the slight bump of a rib under the flesh. More purposeful and slow this time, she traced the outlines of one bone after the other, committing to memory the shape of the ribcage protecting the frail insides of the one she loved.

Marcille groaned loudly, reminded against her will of the ephemerality of life that never ceased to taunt her in this moment of great distress.

"Are you still angry about those elves?" Falin mumbled, half-asleep. 

Another groan bubbled up from inside Marcille's throat, rattling her frustration along its walls. The advantage in power and influence of the Western Elves appeared like an insurmountable wall, in the shadow of which she couldn't guess where she should have aimed to move next. So she stayed there, in the comfort of Falin's heavy, wonderful breasts.

Marcille had always known they were hiding important secrets and her initial attempts to understand how to access them had quickly been squashed. The authorities hid things even from some of their important researchers. A half-elf like her, who hadn't grown up on the continent, had to forfeit the very idea she might ever reach a sufficient rank to request answers.

Turning towards the other long-living races, the dwarves were obviously a no-go but she had hoped for a bit that she could get an in with some gnomes through her connections to the academy. It had been tougher than anticipated however, the gnomes appearing somehow even more secretive over how much they knew.

Her only option really was to turn towards the dungeons but if the Canaries intervened whenever one started to get too active to their taste, she wouldn't go far. Marcille had no idea in the first place if any other dungeon protected a power similar to the one the Lion and the mad mage's grimoire possessed. Perhaps this had been her one and only chance, squandered before she could even gaze upon it.

But she wouldn't know without checking and despairing in bed didn't help her. Marcille just had to keep going. Thankfully, she was pretty stubborn; she had to be, to gather the knowledge on ancient magic she had already assembled through her years of studying. Many documents had taken multiple requests to obtain a copy of and even then, they had been censored in places. This would be the same for dungeons, trial and error until she found something. Marcille clenched her fists, finding renewed hope and determination within her.

"I'll go look for another dungeon soon. I have to keep at it."

"Hm-hmm," mumbled Falin softly before kissing her forehead.

Her non-committal mutters had always remained difficult to decipher for Marcille. During their academy days, she had sometimes tried to make her elaborate through more or less subtle questions but Falin had usually evaded answering more directly, as if afraid or too shy to make some of her opinions heard.

Marcille had shifted from questions to guesses about what she meant and sometimes even simply relied on the mood of the time to assume a meaning. Perhaps she had gotten careless about how to read those little interjections with time but that night, she sensed what could have been uneasiness in Falin's tone and took a moment to think about it. Turning the sound she'd heard in her head, as she remembered it, she could only picture emotions on the negative side, like sadness or apathy. The simplest solution would have been to just ask for more context but by the time she finally decided on this, Falin had already fallen asleep. Marcille herself was too tired to think longer about it, she joined her in slumber while listening to the gentle, regular beating of her heart.

It took a week of studying the history of the dungeons around Clest to choose amongst them one likely to hold at least some hints for her, yet inconspicuous enough that Canaries wouldn't be storming the place by the next month.

Somewhere under the jurisdiction of gnomes or dwarves might have been a good plan, due to their rivalries with the elves; it just needed to be distant enough from the biggest gnomish and dwarven authorities so that those wouldn't involve themselves either. Marcille also took into account closeness to Falin's place, so that she could more easily visit but she knew that once she found a motivated party, they would be down underground for days and it would be hard to regularly take breaks to return to her lover's arms.

The morning of her departure, Falin and Marcille said their goodbyes with restrained emotions. This was usual, by now.

The second dungeon she dived deep down into didn't work out. Nor did the third. Problems would often arise even before the Canaries got involved. Party members leaving after getting hurt or due to infigting about how to proceed left the others stranded, unable to go on more missions and wasting time until they found competent replacements. 

Marcille saw Falin irregularly, many weeks going by with only letters to communicate. It wasn't that different from how they had been exchanging since Falin had first moved to Clest but after getting together, the distance created a whole new range of uncertainties and anguish which strained their relationship. Still, Marcille thought she ought to insist on chasing her purpose at that cost. A few months and years wouldn't amount to much in comparison to the decades, centuries they could have together. 

Despite their unpredictable schedules, she did eventually meet Falin's brother, on one occasion where he was around and Marcille had taken a short break after another expedition failure. She found herself utterly baffled upon meeting him, having quite a bit of trouble reconciling the fact that this strange man was indeed the sibling of Falin.

They had similarities under the surface, if Marcille compared them with attention but her startling first impression felt hard to shake and the few days the three of them spent together only highlighted further his unique weirdness. 

It wasn't unpleasant most of the time and she enjoyed learning more about Falin's childhood; details that her girlfriend hadn't judged interesting to share but her brother saw no shame in revealing. They had a few good laughs like that and Toto was also very happy about the liveliness in the house. His walks were much more energetic too, with Laios racing him in the fields around Clest. Marcille felt only a tiny bit miffed to notice that Laios was clearly Toto's favorite, even though she saw the doggie much more often herself.

More dungeons explorations followed and between them, the occasional trip back to Falin. Usually, they would share quiet moments together but sometimes, Marcille came in near the start of a town festival or special event and so they took part in that.

It was during a feast that she accidentally learnt of a little something Falin had been hiding from her.

She had just been talking about her job after receiving some questions on it from an older villager that had done a bit of adventuring, back in the days. A dwarf sitting not too far had then interjected:

"Dungeon exploring? Why, our little Falin there has greatly helped us out one or two times last year, next town over..."

He looked like he wanted to say more but stopped in the middle of opening his mouth, looking in the direction of Falin who had turned pale, seemingly realizing that he might have said something he shouldn't.

Olga, with the expertise of a church woman used to take care of most complicated situations amongst her people, changed the subject and asked Falin to go pick some more food, giving her an excuse to sneak away. Once evening came and they were alone in the house though, Marcille just had to ask what this was about.

"Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"It just... never came up. I only did it to help, because there was a lack of healers around, never went far into the dungeon."

Falin avoided meeting her eyes, patting her messy hair down and playing with the hem of her large sleeves; she almost looked like a kid caught fooling around.

"I'm not blaming you! I wish you didn't feel like you had to hide it from me."

"But it's not like you tell me everything either, about your job, what you do..."

Marcille was left mouth wide open by the retort. Falin flinched, as if immediately regretting speaking out.

It was true that they both had been very evasive of late, whenever they had to speak about what they did far away from each other. Talking in detail about her quest for forbidden magics seemed to Marcille like a dangerous topic to bring up, involving informations that she wasn't allowed to divulge and some she shouldn't even have possessed. She also didn't want to say too much on her adventures or share anecdotes about her party, afraid of the growing longing in Falin's eyes the more she mentioned those.

They spent an awkward night, not facing each other properly, not touching each other. An ironic scene, when Marcille spent most dungeons nights longing for the heat of Falin's lips and body, for the warmth of her being. The following days were ponctuated by half-hearted attempts to continue that conversation and explain what each of them wanted.

Marcille tried to make it clear that she didn't mind Falin helping out adventurers as long as it caused no trouble with her main work, that she stayed careful and didn't go too far away or too deep down but also that she avoided at all costs putting herself in danger and finally that she inquired about each person taking part to make sure she wasn't getting herself involved with some dangerous, untrustworthy bunch. Realizing at the end of her diatribe she was perhaps starting to add too much and sounding neurotic, she ended on a "Do what you want!" which on retrospect might not have been the best or clearest conclusion either.

Bits by bits, Falin voiced out some of her griefs, like being worried about what Marcille might be doing and wishing she would see her more often.

"I can wait... But I'd like to be able to share more with you... And for you not to leave right before a meal, like last time."

Trying to determine whether she should tell Falin about her secret dream was an agonizing conundrum for Marcille. Part of her wished to spill her burden, to be able to request Falin's help and work together, liked they innocently used to do on the school benches. She ached for that nostalgic familiarity of studying side-by-side, shoulders brushing against each other, whispers exchanged in the library and a happy shiver making her squirm from the inside without really understanding why.

Doing that meant risking rejection though. If Falin disapproved of the taboos Marcille was trying to break, if she revoked what she wanted, refused to live together until the end of both their lives, then Marcille didn't know if she could keep going on.

Nights and days passed without her being able to choose to speak up. They kept sleeping together but half the time, they lay away from the other, trying to ignore the chasm between them. The other half, they held onto each other tightly, desperate in their naked embraces like it could prevent the other from letting go and fleeing.

In the end, Marcille kept quiet and the time came for her to leave again. She broached the subject one evening, while the both of them sat in armchairs, reading in silence.

"I should go soon... The day after tomorrow? Once we've taken lunch."

Toto, who had been lying at her feet half-sleeping, rose his silly head at the noise and looked at her with pitiful eyes. He put his muzzle on her knees and Marcille felt like he was trying to stop her from leaving with this, though she was probably overinterpreting it.

Falin took a little while to react but she nodded.

When Marcille came home, Falin was sitting on the little bench next to the entrance, holding Toto tight, her head against his fur. The dog licked her cheek, letting out small noises.

"Olga died."

"Oh," was all Marcille could say, stuck in place by the words. The inevitability of death always froze her like that and yet she also felt a strange disconnect, from working in spaces it could be reversed at a negligible cost and where reminiscing about a party member's death, so easily fixed by magic, could just be considered casual talk, even jokes sometimes. But of course, they weren't in a dungeon right now.

"We buried her three days ago."

Leaning down to sit next to Falin, Marcille hugged her. Toto, who got caught between two hugs, gave a short bark like a hello or a sign that he recognized her, then licked her nose.

Marcille found no words of comfort to share. Olga had been a very old dwarf, not as old looking as the usual icons of their goddess of the dead but quite enough to go join her. It didn't make it easier and Marcille knew how close Falin had been to her through their shared work, what part Olga had played in helping her get used to her life there.

"Do you want to take a little break? Go on a bit of a vacation perhaps?"

"I guess I could. Olga's associate has already been appointed in her place so things are moving along pretty smoothly. Would you come with me?"

Falin's fingers in her own were cold, probably because of the chill autumn air.

"Of course. Anywhere you'd like to go?"

"We never went on a journey outside the continent, like we talked about."

"Sure, we could do that."

"If you don't have that much time for that, it's alright... We could also go to the city you're currently working in. If it's not too much trouble... I could accompany you in the dungeon even. Just to help out a bit, I'd say on the sidelines, where it's safe."

Marcille blinked. This didn't sound like something Falin was coming up with on the spot right now but much more like a long-held wish, a desire that she had cultivated for some time already. And the idea certainly had appeal to it. The company of Falin in the depths would make the harsh expeditions far more pleasant, the nights spent camping less cold and rough. She blushed at the thought, ashamed of what she was thinking of doing so close to her other party members.

Perhaps now, in this moment of grief, was also the ideal time to reveal to Falin Marcille's own wish. Surely, she would understand, could be convinced to share this dream, having experienced such sadness.

But she needed to make sure Falin knew this would bring them far in the territory of illegality. She couldn't ask this of her without allowing her to contemplate the matter under all angles and broaching the subject in an emotional moment would be unfair of her.

Deciding to let the day pass before acting, Marcille helped Falin cook and take care of the various chores around the house, then followed her to the graveyard when it was time to check if everything looked fine there.

It had been a while since she had last come here, the sight of the tombs growing too displeasing with the years passing for her to want to look at the place for long. Today however, she wished to see Olga's grave and reflect on it, thanking her for her generosity towards Falin.

While moving back towards the exit once she was done, she passed through a new alley and her gaze stopped on a singular object placed over another grave.

A metal birdcage had been left there and it was missing its door.

"Why is something like that here?"

"Oh, that's from a couple who took care of ill and wounded birds together. When August got really sick, Robin kept their latest little patient in this, because they couldn't bear to see it leave at that time. Before dying though, August made them promise to free it afterwards, to not cling to it in remembrance. Robin did that and left the cage here, with August."

The wind blew around them, sweeping dead leaves along the alleys. It wasn't that cold but Marcille still shivered.

"It's a rather beautiful story, I think," Falin whispered, a small smile on her lips, eyes still sad.

"I suppose," Marcille answered, because she felt like she had to say something, but I hate it was what she thought.

She might have been close to doing a big mistake, trying to reveal everything to Falin too early. In her current confusion, deciding how she should act next was too complicated a task. However, she still knew the one thing she absolutely needed to do.

Marcille took Falin's hand, squeezed and didn't let go.