Archive of Our Own

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The realization comes at a fleeting moment, just shy of the exact time Bluebell has its tiny little feet land on the highest point of Zani's horns, rushing to her while she's sitting propped up against a tree as Phoebe pats away at the creases of her fabric to remove any wrinkles whatsoever from her skirt.

Zani hadn't even realized when she started naming that adorable bluebird that appears around Phoebe at certain times—it just stuck, she supposes, one time after she realized its presence that surely could not be accounted for if not for Phoebe's own.

Blue for, well, bluebird, and bell for…

…Okay, well, she didn't really put that much thought into it, she guesses—the name just sprung up once, maybe because it sounded so similar to bluebird that sometimes she even misspoke bluebird for bluebell in her head, and it just stuck ever since.

How in Imperator's name the little one would magically spring up whenever Phoebe puts away her staff Zani will never know—questioned it to Phoebe once, she did, and even she herself just shrugged and went She just does, I guess? and that had been that.

But what Zani does know is this:

"Bluebell takes after you."

Phoebe, for all her obliviousness to her words, simply flashes a look of inquiry towards her direction.

"Hmm?" She goes, walking up to her, "Is it because we fly?"

Well, there's that but it's not exactly the reason why she thought of it, so, "Nope."

There comes the scrunch of Phoebe's face—with the most obvious similarity accounted for, she gives another, "Because we sing?"

And again, "Nada."

Phoebe frowns.

"Because I have blue and she does too?"

"Not that."

"Because we don't really like sour viscum berries?"

"Nah."

"Because we're both tiny?"

That one makes Zani stifle a chuckle, "Cute that you're admitting it for once—" and she'll remember that for the next time she wants to tease around with how much effort she needs just to be able to kiss her, she will, "—but no."

Phoebe bites back a wince from the realization, but still continues anyways.

"Because we both really, really like you?"

That one—that specific one takes Zani by surprise, and she thinks she'd nearly have choked on air were it not for the fact that Bluebell is still on her horns and she'd rather not have the bird nearly faint from fright and distrust her from being her little perching stand if she did.

Zani stares her in the eyes, grinning.

"Well, I don't know about Bluebell," she says, though Bluebell probably does from how she coos the moment she hears herself being called, lightly pecking her horns but not enough to scar and huh, she really is one smart bird.

Cute, too, just like her owner, another similarity but still not quite right.

There's a chance to take a dig at Phoebe that she can't possibly miss, though, and without another thought, her mouth blurts out;

"But you really, really like me, Miss Acolyte?"

The redness that fills up Phoebe's face is something that she thought she'd only have ever seen in cartoons and animations and the like—it's almost comedic, almost something she'd point right out if she didn't have the threat of the healing end of her staff swung right at her looming over head.

"You—!" Phoebe blabbers, speechless at her accusation that isn't really one, "You know I do—!"

Zani chuckles, endeared.

"Yeah, I know." She responds, "Still not that, though—but I'll take it."

Phoebe looks at her like she's been horrendously wronged; like she'd just been tossed under the spotlight for a crime she didn't commit, put on the stand to profess her innocence and wait anxiously for a trial that never should have begun in the first place—only to find out that it did, indeed, never should have begun in the first place.

Still, Phoebe can't stay mad at her that long—but it's not like she was mad to begin with.

As if the prior moments had never happened, Phoebe goes up to her. Like clockwork, like habit, like a routine that they've simply made their own after all the time they've spent together being much more than anyone had ever thought will come out of their relationship, makes her own place on Zani's lap, sitting comfortably as Zani welcomes her without much issue.

"So," Zani starts, pressing a kiss to her head, "how'd your day go?"

Phoebe hums, sinking into her grasp, "You know, the usual…"

Zani's tail wraps around Phoebe's stomach as she chatters on about echoes and disputes and whatnot, pulling her close to her being as she listens on to how certain things had altered the mundanity of her daily life.

Well, the fact is this: the feature they both shared that made Zani say her opening sentence was really that they both liked to occupy her as their personal chair in one way or another. But that last point Phoebe made?

Zani thinks she likes that similarity much more than what she'd first thought of.

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