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Rhian did her best to hide her scowl. Over Gwen’s shoulder, she watched Zorah lean her elbow against the table, moving in closer to the halfling woman next to her. She laughed at something she said, laying a hand on her arm, and jealousy flared in Rhian’s gut.
And was immediately swallowed by guilt when Gwen sighed, pushing to her feet from where they were sitting. Rhian followed her movement, looking up with a silent question.
“I’m going home,” Gwen said, stepping around her and heading towards the door.
Confused, Rhian cast a final look back at Zorah, still absolved in her conversation, and then moved to follow Gwen.
She’d gotten decently far back down the trail, and Rhian had to jog to catch up with her.
“Hey! Gwen!”
She moved around in front of her to get her to stop. “That was abrupt.”
Gwen frowned at her, but stopped. “What are we doing, Rhian?”
She cocked her head, sensing a turn in the conversation she wasn’t sure she wanted to follow. “I’m following my girlfriend home.”
Wrapping her arms around herself, Gwen shifted on her feet in front of her. “I mean, us, Rhian*.* We were supposed to be going together, and you spend the entire evening staring at her.”
Rhian couldn’t meet her eyes, she didn’t have to ask who. She knew she’d been more absorbed in watching Zorah than paying attention to Gwen, she wasn’t going to argue. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, “Don’t, please. What you’re doing, Rhian… it’s not fair.”
“What I’m- she’s my friend.”
Gwen fixed her with a look that said she wasn’t buying it. “Tell me you love me.”
“What?” Rhian blanked.
“Say it.”
Rhian opened her mouth, wrestling with the words. Her hesitation was enough. Gwen sighed, looking at her feet, then back up at her. She smiled sadly, reaching to brush her knuckles gently against her jaw. Rhian tensed, leaning away, just the slightest, and Gwen’s smile vanished. “You should tell her.”
Rhian moved to interrupt as to why that was a bad idea, but Gwen held up a hand. “I know why you haven’t, but is avoiding the future hurt worth not having any time at all?”
She’d been asking herself the same question for years.
Gwen nearly laid her hand on Rhian’s arm, then thought better about it, having already been rebuffed once before, pulling back and stepping past her.
Rhian half turned, torn between wanting to follow her, but knowing she didn’t want her to— they were over.
“I hope you find happiness,” Gwen tossed back over her shoulder, her eyes misty when she turned away.
Rhian stared after her, watching until she disappeared around a bend in the road.
Conflicted, Rhian swiped a foot through the dirt. She could leave, head home, call it a night. Zorah usually came around to find her most days anyway, she could always wait and talk to her then.
But the image of her getting closer to someone else all night… Going home with them…
Rhian groaned, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. It definitely wasn’t fair of her to feel that way, but she couldn’t help it. Gwen ending things because of Zorah had certainly ripped open feelings she’d been trying to shove down and bury. Feelings she thought she’d gotten over.
“Dammit,” she muttered to herself, stalking back towards the house, mind made up that she was going to tell her, damn the consequences.
Slipping back inside, Rhian scanned the room. Between music playing and people talking, she was quickly overwhelmed again by the commotion, but she found Zorah was still sitting and talking with the same woman she had been when she’d left. Except now they were much closer, Zorah having moved her seat around the table.
Rhian vaguely recognized the halfling from seeing her about— she wasn’t part of their usual friend group, but she thought her name was Marnie… or was it Merrin?
Approaching the table, she lingered until Zorah turned her attention to her. Rhian’s heart jumped into her throat with how her eyes lit up on seeing her, and the accompanying grin. “Hey, Rhian.”
“I need to talk to you,” she blurted.
Zorah glanced between her and the other woman, pulling her hand back from across the table. “Now?”
Rhian nodded, “Please.”
The halfling frowned when Zorah moved to stand. “Uh, we were…” she gestured between the two of them.
Rhian turned her attention to her, “Merrin, wasn’t it?”
“Melanie,” she corrected, unimpressed, Rhian’s mistake clearly earning her no favor.
She winced; “Right, sorry, Melanie,” she corrected, “It’s important.”
Zorah laid a hand on Melanie’s apologetically, “Sorry, I’ll… I should be back soon.”
She gestured for Rhian to lead the way.
Rhian wound her way through the gathering, irritated at the volume of people and trying to avoid anyone bumping into her. Luckily, she’d been to Jorik’s before and knew there was a balcony out back, somewhere quiet they could talk.
Rhian slid the door closed behind them, blocking out the noise and light coming from inside.
In the cool evening air, she relaxed, if only by a fraction, moving to the railing.
Zorah came up alongside her, leaning forward on the banister. “And here I thought it was Gwen’s job now to make apologies for your…” she waved a hand in Rhian’s direction, “being you. Where is she, anyway? You normally don’t hang out at these things alone, when you bother to make an appearance, anyway.”
Rhian made a face at her. “She headed home,” she answered quietly, training her gaze on the stars up above, twisting her ring on her right hand, “After we… she broke it off.”
She’d expected more pain or guilt at that admission. They’d not been together long, and Rhian’s parents had pushed the relationship, pleased to see her with another elf, but it had been long enough that ending it should’ve resulted in more accompanying feelings. Or at least some worry at what her parents would say.
Instead, she found only quiet relief in telling Zorah. “I’m sorry,” her friend said, leaning in and laying her head on Rhian’s shoulder.
Rhian waved her off, shaking her head. “Don’t be. It’s- it was for the best.”
She blew out a breath, letting them lapse into silence. Despite the quiet night, her head was loud, her pulse singing in her ears to the racing beat of her heart, especially with Zorah’s proximity.
“Is that why you interrupted my night and dragged me out here, then?” Zorah finally broke the silence, pointing at her hands, “Although, that can’t be what’s got you all nervous.”
Hands stilling, Rhian laughed lightly, of course Zorah knew all her tics. She raked a hand through her hair.
“No. That’s not why.”
Here goes nothing, she thought.
“I feel like we’ve been dancing around something between us for the last several years,” she started, watching Zorah’s reaction from the corner of her eye; somehow it was easier to admit it if she wasn’t looking at her, “And Gwen finally said something to push me to tell you that I-“
Zorah stood up and backed away, just a half-step, but it was enough to break her heart, making her words stop dead. “Rhian,” she looked panicked, eyes wide, shaking her head, “You know that’s a bad idea.”
They hadn’t spoken about anything, not directly, at least. But Zorah wasn’t an idiot. She’d seen the way Rhian had looked at her, knew she was the only one who could talk her into joining them for things— be it small bouts of adventuring, or a party, their friends had always sent her along to ask. In recent years, she’d even taken to joking that Rhian wasn’t allowed to fall in love with her, and Rhian had always shoved her off, flippantly responding with an “as if.” Rhian’s parents had opinions on it— their difference in life expectancy and their ages had been a contention point with them; another reason that while they didn’t think falling into anything was a good idea for her, they’d been okay with her and Gwen, at least.
And despite it all, here she was, openly admitting it.
“Heh, any worse than what we’re doing to ourselves already?” Rhian felt tears welling up, her chest tightening, “That reality is decades away.”
“Exactly,” Zorah’s tone was matter-of fact, “Decades, Rhian. You have centuries of life ahead of you, without me.”
“Zor…” her voice came out in a low whine, she was dangerously close to begging now, “It doesn’t change anything for me. If I’m going to lose you anyway, why deny ourselves the time we could have?”
Zorah bit her lip, crossing her arms. “You’ve thought about this.”
“Maybe.”
She finally met Rhian’s eyes again, giving her the smallest shake of her head, but her annoyance with her was undercut by the smile she was trying to hide, and Rhian knew she was winning. “You’re impossible, you know.”
“And you’re hopelessly in love with me for it.”
Rhian’s heart hammered even harder in her chest when Zorah stepped in closer, still hesitant. Rhian held out her hands, silently pleading. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes, Zor,” she breathed, “It’s the one thing I’ve always been sure of. I love you.”
A slow smile spread across her face, the slightest blush rising to her cheeks at Rhian’s words. Rhian could only stare at her when she moved closer, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a crooked grin at Rhian’s awed expression, a challenge lighting up her eyes. “Prove it.”
Rhian’s hands framed her face, tilting her head up so she could kiss her, eyes sliding closed. Zorah’s lips were soft against hers, and Rhian could taste the slightest linger of alcohol on her. Hands digging possessively into her hips, Zorah dragged her closer; Rhian answered by pressing her back against the railing, grabbing hold of it to steady herself.
Rhian was the first to pull away, a pleased smile plastered across her face. “Gods, I’ve wanted to do th-“
Zorah interrupted, impatient as always, immediately dragging her back in with a hand digging into her hair, pulling another kiss from her, and another, soft and gentle.
Rhian laughed when their lips parted, catching her breath. “Sorry,” Zorah murmured against her lips, brushing her thumb across her cheek, “Couldn’t help it.”
“You don’t hear me complaining,” Rhian laced her fingers against her back, taking the moment to just take her in.
There was a dark flush to her face, her eyes bright and alert even in the low light, darting across her face before dipping down to briefly glance at Rhian’s mouth before moving back up.
Rhian obliged her unspoken request, tilting her head to brush another tentative kiss against her lips, feeling Zorah’s smile against her.
And suddenly they were flooded with light. Rhian broke away, blinking against the unexpected brightness. Zorah threw a hand up to block it, squinting to see who it was.
When Rhian turned to look, she found Jorik had thrown open the balcony door. “There you-“
Whatever he was saying was cut off by a shocked gasp, and Rhian was instantly aware of every minute detail: Zorah’s hand on her hip, Rhian’s arms around her, pressing her close between her and the banister, her hair mussed from where Zorah had been running her hands through it.
Jorik stared between them, mouth agape before he busted out laughing. “Oh, finally,” he said.
Rhian flushed, every nerve on fire again, and she ducked her head, arms tightening around Zorah as she buried her face against her shoulder with a groan. Zorah, ever unbothered, chuckled under her, leaning her cheek against her head. “What do you mean, ‘finally’?” she threw back at Jorik.
“Oh, please,” he wiggled his fingers at them, “You two have been making eyes at each other for years, it’s about damn time one of you made a move.”
“We don’t need to talk about this,” Rhian’s protest was muffled against Zorah.
Jorik huffed, and despite not being able to see him, Rhian knew he was probably throwing them that lopsided grin of his. She wanted to smack it off him.
Zorah, at least, seemed amused by the intrusion, and his commentary. “What do you want?”
“Just making sure everything was alright, you two had been out here a bit. Sorry for interrupting.”
“We’re fine,” Rhian shooed him off with a dismissive wave, head still buried against Zorah.
He chuckled at her, even as Zorah poked her between the shoulder blades for her abruptness. The light disappeared, and she heard the click of the door closing again.
“Are you done hiding?” Zorah teased at her hair, tugging lightly on one of her braids.
Straightening, Rhian leveled a look at her. “And everyone’s going to know before the end of the night, you know that, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Zorah agreed, “He’s definitely in there telling everyone.”
“So-o-o, how much did you want to stay?” Rhian leaned back, looking over the balcony, “Not a far fall, we could probably sneak out—“
Zorah shook her head, smiling at her, “You really fit quite a few of those elven stereotypes, don’t you?”
That pulled Rhian from her escape plans, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you know,” Zorah ran a finger along the top of her ear, earning a twitch from Rhian, “Elusive, secretive, impetuous.“
“Impetuous?!”
“I’m teasing,” Zorah lifted her chin, “But I would prefer to not bail on our friends.”
“Your friends,” Rhian gently corrected.
Zorah rolled her eyes at that tired argument, “They like you being around, too, you know. Always have. Besides, even if Jorik did just ruin our chance to tell everyone ourselves, they’ll be happy for us.”
Rhian sighed, still unconvinced that her plan wasn’t the better option. “Okay.”
Zorah beamed at her. “Kiss for courage, then,” she held Rhian’s head between her hands, pulling her in to press a kiss against her forehead, her nose, across both cheeks.
Rhian’s dulled mood lifted, laughing, “Zorah.”
“What,” she pressed her lips to the scar across Rhian’s nose, brow quirking up, “You object?”
“No,” Rhian’s confirmation had Zorah capturing her lips again, and she knew she could stay out her forever, just getting lost in her.
“Careful,” Rhian warned when she pulled back, “It’s not going to take much for me to get used to that.”
“That’s the idea.”