Chapter Text
...
Imogen drank in the sun-dappled autumn air as she swayed in the hammock beneath the canopy of flaming orange leaves. A crisp breeze ruffled the hem of her oversized blue flannel, and goosebumps formed on her thighs below the edges of her white shorts. Instead of letting that sensation occupy her mind, Imogen focused on the gentle rocking and tried to push her anxieties to the side. She hadn’t been this nervous—or excited—since she asked Laudna if she could kiss her, and today, they would promise forever to each other with another.
Imogen closed her eyes as a smile bloomed upon her lips. She tilted her head back and breathed deeply, the smell of fallen leaves reminding her of Laudna. Her nose scrunched and that soft, unburdened grin deepened at the thought of her love.
She searched for Laudna’s mind, and as her power picked up scattered bits of that blue-dawn melody, Imogen found her way back home.
Mornin’, baby, she whispered, a smile in her immaterial words.
Laudna’s smooth voice floated to Imogen along that thread which bonded them. It’s late, darling. Are you just now waking up?
Imogen chuckled. No. No, I’ve been up for hours.
I’m in the same boat, it seems. I slept terribly.
Me too.
Out of excitement, of course, Laudna clarified. Well, all right, and nerves. But mostly excitement.
Imogen bit her lip. Her next words were a whisper on the breeze. I can’t believe I get to marry you today.
I’ve been having a hard time wrapping my head around that, Laudna said with an airy chuckle. A pregnant pause took over their connection before Laudna nearly whined, I wish I could see you.
The evening can’t come soon enough, Imogen agreed.
Laudna’s words practically spoke her vigorous head shake. But not too soon because I have so much to do to get ready.
Imogen stuck her toes in the grass and gave the hammock a push. I can already see how beautiful you’ll be.
I’ll see you in the grove for first looks this afternoon, darling.
Imogen grinned. I can’t wait.
I love you, Laudna breathed.
And I love you.
As their connection went quiet, Imogen opened her eyes to a brown-skinned gnome dressed in pink pajamas leaning against the nearest tree with a mug of coffee in hand.
“Hi, sweetie,” Deanna said with a soft smile.
“Howdy,” Imogen replied with a grin. “How long have you been here?”
“Not long.” She took a sip. “You seemed like you were preoccupied so I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Imogen shrugged. “Can’t see the bride, but there’s no rule about not talkin’ to her.” She patted the hammock and motioned Deanna over with her chin. “Sit with me.”
Deanna padded over, and as she put a hand on the edge of the hammock, Imogen waved her fingers and caught the mug in a telepathic wind.
She glanced up at Imogen, brows raised. “Oh, well, thank you.”
“So you have both hands,” Imogen said simply.
In one relatively smooth motion, Deanna pulled herself up and spun around so her back sank into the hammock. She sat there for a moment, shoulders pressed into her ears and a grimace wrinkling her face.
Imogen laughed and held out a hand, but Deanna ignored it.
“Oh, I got this, babygirl,” she huffed, wrestling herself into a more dignified sitting position. Once situated, Deanna wiggled her fingers for the mug and the ceramic cup floated into her waiting hands. “Breakfast is waiting in the house,” her muffled voice said from behind the rim. “Eggs, toast, sausage and bacon, sliced apples and pears, and orange juice.”
Imogen gaped. “You didn’t have to make us all breakfast, Deanna.”
“Of course I did! It’s your wedding day.” She wiggled her shoulders. “Besides, I’ve been up since dawn and I needed something to do.” She glanced up at Imogen and patted her thigh. “I like taking care of people.”
Though Imogen heard the words, she didn’t fully comprehend them because her mind kept replaying something Deanna had said. It’s your wedding day.
Today was her wedding day. Today was her wedding day.
She was getting married today.
Soon, Laudna would be her wife.
“I’m gettin’ married today,” she breathed.
Deanna’s small hand curled around Imogen’s. “You’re getting married today.”
Imogen exhaled and sank into the hammock. “Oh, gods, I’m gettin’ married today.”
“You’ll be just fine.”
Imogen inhaled slowly, deeply, and then exhaled all her anxieties out. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Deanna leaned forward. “Do you know what might help, though?” she whispered. Imogen quirked a brow. “A hearty breakfast,” Deanna said with a wink. She hopped off the hammock and motioned for Imogen to follow. “Come on, babygirl.”
…
The farmhouse kitchen was alight with golden autumn sun as Imogen walked in where her friends were eating and chatting. Laughter, love, and light filled the space, and the moment was enough to strike Imogen still with awe. The people she loved were here for her. They were here for her. To watch her marry her soulmate.
Deanna knocked Imogen from her reverie as she nudged her thigh with an elbow and passed the threshold into the kitchen.
Orym’s face lit up as he spotted Imogen from across the table. He raised his half full glass of orange juice and shouted, “Hey, it’s the bride-to-be!”
Next to him, Dorian turned, blue skin like the bright sky beyond. He gave a small nod and a smile. “Imogen.”
“Mornin’, Dorian,” she said softly, returning the smile. She approached the table and met the gaze of the last friend: FRIDA.
In lieu of their emerald green trench coat, they wore the same shade in a set of pajamas. They stood from their seat to greet Imogen, feminine face practically smiling.
Imogen stood on her tip-toes and threw her arms around their neck for a hug. “It’s so good to see you, FRIDA,” she whispered.
A gentle metal hand patted her back and her laughter, soft and carefree, played from them. “I am honored to be here for you today, Ms. Temult,” they said, their voice equally as tender as their touch.
Imogen pulled away and glanced at FRIDA’s empty plate. “Have you eaten anything?”
“I am okay.”
She exhaled and tilted her head. “Nonsense.” She searched one of the upper cabinets and came away with a small bag of gems. She handed the pouch to FRIDA and said, “Pick as many as you’d like. Laudna and I save these just for our Aeormaton friends.”
They pulled out a small bit of ruby and seemed to indulge in the precious stone. They glanced at Imogen as she sat down next to them. “Thank you.”
She placed a hand on their shoulder and smiled. “Everyone should feel welcome here.”
“I will always feel welcome wherever you are, Ms. Temult.”
As Imogen settled in, Deanna filled her plate with delicious smelling foods.
“Thank you,” Imogen said softly and scooped up a bit of egg.
Orym crunched on an apple slice. “So, how are you feeling?”
Imogen chewed and swallowed, lightning-scarred hands rubbing restlessly over the top of her thighs. She took a breath and glanced up. “Nervous, but excited.”
Dorian placed a gentle hand on Imogen’s shoulder, blue eyes brilliant in the sunlight. “You know, when I get nervous sometimes, I hum a little tune and that helps ease my anxieties.” He closed his eyes and began to hum a beautiful, calming melody. The way the notes flowed felt like a warm summer breeze within her soul, and as Dorian continued to hum, Imogen could have sworn flower petals danced around her, intertwining with the smell of fallen leaves.
Dorian squeezed her shoulder and smiled tenderly. “Hold onto that melody when you need it.”
Imogen pulled Dorian into a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.
He nodded.
Orym came around the corner of the table and leaned his chin on Dorian’s tricep. He placed his smaller hand over Dorian’s which still rested on Imogen’s shoulder, and little violets bloomed between his fingers and intertwined with strands of long, lavender hair.
Imogen’s brows pursed and she gave Orym a slanted smile.
He reciprocated the smile, eyes twinkling. “For luck,” he whispered.
FRIDA loomed over the trio, Deanna by their knee, and placed a small, polished amethyst gem in Imogen’s lightning-marked palm.
From their chest, a memory from years ago played, and Imogen’s soft, breathy voice whispered, Laudna’s beautifully scary.
FRIDA’s eyes almost seemed to sparkle. “For love.”
...
Makeup complete and hair half-done, Imogen burst from the house and sprinted barefoot across the grass. The afternoon sun had turned golden, heralding the beautiful autumn sunset the evening was sure to bring. As she ran, laughter bubbled in her chest and a smile blossomed upon her lips.
The smack of bare feet on straw-scattered concrete announced her arrival within the stables, but Imogen didn’t stop until she reached the last stall on the left. She slipped inside the stall door and almost turned right into the nose of a Palomino.
Imogen patted the horse’s neck. “Hi, girl,” she whispered, closing her eyes and pressing her face against Flora’s jaw. She breathed her in, her left hand absentmindedly stroking Flora’s mane. “You’re the only friend I haven’t seen yet today.”
Flora nuzzled her arm and as her muzzle met Imogen’s sleeve, Imogen pressed three kisses to the bridge of her nose. Flora exhaled and stepped closer, dark eyes bright.
“Guess what?” Imogen whispered as she ran a hand down the bridge of Flora’s nose. “Today’s my weddin’ day.” Her heart leapt at those words and she grinned.
Flora shook her mane, shoulder muscles rippling at Imogen’s light touch.
“I’m gettin’ married today.” Imogen stepped close and wrapped her arms around Flora’s neck. She inhaled slowly and then breathed, nearly in disbelief, “I’m gettin’ married today.”
A force, almost like a finger tapping on her mind, pressed against Imogen’s mental walls. She straightened. The power felt…familiar.
Imogen whirled when a soft knock against wood broke the silence and tension.
Liliana stood just outside the stall, hand still raised from the knock and a timid smile lighting her aged face. “Sorry,” she grimaced, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Imogen blinked. “Mama.”
Her mother, whose light lavender hair had been plaited carefully down her back, smoothed the front of her sky-blue dress and brown cardigan.
“You came,” Imogen breathed.
“I was surprised but grateful to receive your invitation.” She opened her arms and tilted her head. “May I?”
Imogen returned the smile with a small one of her own, and after a moment, she nodded.
Liliana embraced Imogen, the smell of open fields, fresh bread, and tea washing over the latter. Her hug was strong and warm and comforting. It was the embrace of a mother—one Imogen had never fully felt before.
Imogen only let herself soak in the touch for a moment before she pulled away.
Liliana folded her hands in front of her and glanced at Imogen’s appearance before looking into her eyes. “You look beautiful,” she said softly.
The corner of Imogen’s mouth quirked. “Thank you, Mama.”
“I know I’m here pretty early, but I wanted the chance to talk to you before you got caught up in the chaos.”
“How’d you find me?”
Liliana tapped her temple. Searched for you.
Imogen cocked her head. “Lucky you I don’t have my circlet on yet.”
Liliana took a breath and glanced away. She seemed to be chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“What’s wrong, Mama?”
She exhaled, lighting-marked fingers fidgeting. After a moment, she looked into Imogen’s eyes. “There’s someone else here to see you.”
Imogen cocked her head as Liliana gestured toward the barn opening.
Relvin wandered into view, wide-brimmed hat clutched in one hand while the other slicked his brown hair out of his face. Streaks of white were beginning to show on his beard, along with shorter cropped portions on the side of his head.
His strong, handsome features were accentuated by the tan of his skin, and he’d aged since Imogen last saw him, but he looked healthy. Almost...happy. His eyes were brighter and there seemed to be less weight in his gaze.
Relvin wore a clean linen collared shirt, a pair of brown trousers, and shiny brown boots, and after fidgeting with the brim of his hat, dark eyes flitting around the small space, his stare met Imogen’s.
When he reached them, Relvin put a hand on the small of Liliana’s back and nodded at Imogen.
“Hi, Daddy,” Imogen breathed.
His throat bobbed, jaw muscles clenching and unclenching. Then, he muttered softly, gently, “You look wonderful.” The stiffness and hesitancy in his drawl spoke volumes.
Imogen nodded. “Thank you.”
She hadn’t seen him since Bells Hells visited Gelvaan, and though she’d grown and changed, the tension between them was still as prevalent as ever.
Relvin’s throat bobbed, but before speaking again, a nasally breath caught his attention. He slipped past Imogen into the stall, and for a moment, he simply stared at Flora. Then, he placed a hand on the bridge of her nose and whispered, “Hi, girl.” Flora nudged Relvin’s hand and he chuckled. “It’s been a while.”
Imogen cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said slowly, “for takin’ care of her while I was...gone.”
He scratched under her muzzle and nodded. “She was your only friend for a long while.” His throat bobbed again and he whispered over his shoulder, “It was the very least I could do.”
There were so many unspoken words in his tone, yet Relvin didn’t voice any of them. This time, though, Imogen could control what she did and didn’t hear from his mind; she kept that tendril of power contained.
Imogen nodded, gaze lowered. After a moment, she ran her hand down Flora’s nose and gave a breathy chuckle. “We were always better with horses than people.”
Relvin looked away, jaw muscles feathering. Then, he whispered gruffly, “I shouldn’t have been better with horses than you.” He sniffed and placed his hat on his head, hiding his eyes in the brim’s shadow.
Imogen’s expression softened. She faced Relvin and tilted his hat back so she could stare up into his pained eyes. “I forgive you, Daddy,” she whispered. “I forgave you a long time ago.”
Something in his gaze hardened and he pulled away.
Such a familiar and heartbreaking thing for him to do.
He placed both hands on his hips and hung his head. “I don’t deserve it.”
“No,” Imogen said simply, “maybe you don’t.” She tapped an index finger against her chest. “But I do. Laudna does. The woman I love, does. I forgave you for my sake—for my partner’s sake.” She patted the side of Flora’s neck and sighed. “I was tired of runnin’ from my past, and forgivin’ you helped me move on.”
Relvin ran a hand over his beard and nodded.
Imogen placed her palm against his scruffy jaw. “What I said to you in that message years ago is still true; I love you, Daddy. No matter what.”
Relvin squeezed her hand, his rough callouses scraping along her knuckles. In his low, raspy drawl, he muttered, “I’m sorry, babygirl.”
She gave a small shrug and led Relvin out of Flora’s stall and toward Liliana. “You’re here now,” Imogen whispered.
He turned, suddenly, both hands clutching the brim of his hat once more. “I’m...grateful,” he began, gaze lowered, “that I could be here today—that you wanted me here today—after not bein’ there for you as I should have.”
Imogen pressed a kiss to Relvin’s cheek. “It’s good to see you, Daddy.” She smiled softly at Liliana. “You too, Mama.”
She led them out of the barn and motioned toward the field. “Please, make yourself at home. There are chairs set out along with refreshments. Someone will lead everyone to the ceremony when it’s time.”
Liliana kissed Imogen’s cheek and gave her hand one last squeeze.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Imogen said, taking a couple steps backward toward the house, “there’s somethin’ I need to ask someone.”
...
Imogen halted outside the door. She bit her lip, contemplating, and then rapped a knuckle against the wood grain.
“It’s open,” Orym’s muffled voice said through the door.
Imogen grasped the worn, bronze knob and the door creaked open into a golden ray of light, dust particles floating in the air of the old room.
Orym already wore his dark amethyst suit, matching vest done up, and trousers tucked into tall, shiny black boots. He had his well-loved green sashes around his waist, the embroidered white flowers almost seeming to blow in an immaterial wind. The pocket square on his left breast matched the green of his sashes, and two white orchids were pinned just adjacent.
He stood in front of a mirror, deft fingers pinning a purple lightning bolt to his left lapel just below the flowers.
“Orym,” Imogen said softly.
The halfling turned, eyes brighter than she’d seen in a long time. “Yeah?”
She grinned, remembering how he’d looked at breakfast with his chin on Dorian’s arm. How happy and content he’d looked. She tilted her head. “You look so handsome.”
He smiled back. “And you are beautiful, Imogen.”
“I’m a nervous wreck.” Her chuckle came out more anxious than she meant.
Orym walked up to her, dark brown curls still wet, and smiled. “You get to marry the woman you love today.” He shrugged. “Nerves are normal. I nearly vomited on my wedding day.”
Imogen grimaced. “How did you, you know, not do that?”
“I focused on him. Only him. I didn’t think about the people there or what needed to be perfect. Once I saw Will, the rest of the world faded away.” Orym placed a hand on Imogen’s hip. “All that matters today, is you two. Today is a declaration of your love to each other. Not to me, not to Bells Hells, not to the guests—between you and Laudna. Nothing outside of her matters.”
Imogen took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right.”
He smirked. “That happens sometimes.”
“Orym—” Imogen shook her head. “I actually came in here to ask a favor of you.”
“Anything.”
She bit her lip and then exhaled slowly. “Would you—would you walk me down the aisle today?”
His eyes widened. “Me?”
She nodded, grinning.
“You don’t want your dad...?”
Imogen shook her head. “No. I’d be honored if you’d be the man to walk me down the aisle.”
Orym’s brows furrowed in contemplation. After a moment, he sighed and glanced up at Imogen, a tender smile picking at the corners of his mouth. He stepped forward and took Imogen’s hands in his little ones. “Imogen Temult,” he whispered, “I would be honored to walk you down the aisle.”
Imogen crouched down and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered in his pointed ear.
Orym’s damp curls tickled her ear as he whispered back, “Always.”
After a moment, he pulled away and swatted at Imogen’s thighs. “Now go, go!” he chuckled, shooing her out the door. “You’ve got a wedding to get dressed for!”
…
Imogen touched a hand to her chest as she absorbed her reflection. Beneath her lightning-marked hand, layers of white chiffon spread across her chest, flowing almost like a mantle of sheer material below her shoulders. Purple, iridescent lightning marks glowed through the sheer white sleeves which ran the length of Imogen’s arms down to her middle fingers.
From her chest, the body of the dress descended in layers of white chiffon into waves of beautiful lavender, with translucent blue folded between to deepen the purple at the bottom.
Imogen ran a hand down the bodice, fingertips grazing white cloth orchids delicately sewn into the dress, and as her touch continued down, the orchids transitioned into stems of lilacs weaved along waves of deepening lavender material.
Deanna finished sewing one last orchid onto the dress and then stepped back, curls everywhere and pins pinched between her teeth. She cocked her head, eyes roving up and down Imogen’s figure.
Imogen waited.
At last, Deanna plucked the pins from her mouth and declared, “That’s what it was missing.” Her shoulders relaxed and a soft smile blossomed on her lips. “You look heavenly.”
Imogen beamed. “Thank you.” She took Deanna’s hands. “And thank you so much. This dress is absolutely beautiful.”
Deanna patted her cheek. “Of course, honey.”
Orym pushed off the door frame from where he’d been leaning and approached. “Here.” He took strands of Imogen’s curled lavender hair and weaved orchids and violets through to match the little vines he’d spread that morning.
Imogen didn’t think she could smile any more. “Perfect.”
“Now”—Deanna clapped her hands— “it’s time for first looks! Come on, bridal party, let’s move!”
Orym stuck his head out the door and called down the hall, “Babe, get FRIDA. We’ve got to get to the grove!”
Like a puppy peeking around a corner, FRIDA’s head shot out from behind the kitchen doorframe, and then the rest of their body followed. “I’ve never been to a wedding,” they said, animated voice soft. “This is exciting.” They straightened their lilac tie and fixed the collar of their dark purple suit.
Imogen emerged from the room and placed a hand on their forearm. She smiled up at them. “I’m thankful you could be here.”
FRIDA offered their elbow, which Imogen accepted with a scrunch of her nose, and let them lead her out into the golden afternoon.
…
An early golden sunset dappled the grove in rays of beautiful autumn light, and Imogen stood with her eyes closed, soaking in the warmth. The canopy rustled in the gentle breeze and an aroma of autumn leaves, lemongrass, hay, and orchids washed over her.
For a moment, Imogen simply existed in that peace, focusing on the autumn sun which kissed her cheek.
Then, a voice like the blue dawn slipped into her mind. Hello, darling.
Chill bumps erupted along her arms at the almost purr of Laudna’s whisper. Imogen grinned. Hi, honey.
That haunting orchestra of beautiful, familiar melody filled Imogen’s mind and set her racing thoughts at ease.
It was musical. It wasn’t painful like everybody else.
From the moment they met, that sentiment had rung true; Laudna was peace.
Your mind was so…beautiful.
Your mind is so beautiful, Imogen whispered gently. And I can’t wait to see your beautiful face.
Turn around, darling.
Imogen opened her eyes. Her heart pounded in her ears and her hands shook, but she simply drew those feelings in and let them pass over her. She glanced over her shoulder, head turning first before her body followed, and literally lost her breath at the sight before her.
Laudna’s dress seemed to be made of layers of deep, blood red fabric adorned with tendrils of black lace. The base of the strapless bodice was the same red, but more black lace and beadwork decorated the surface.
Imogen took a stunned step forward, jaw agape.
As she neared, the details of Laudna’s dress materialized. Thorned roses, tendrils of shadow, and what appeared to be streaking bolts of lightning spread from the bodice, moving up Laudna’s chest, across her shoulders, and down her arms in sheer black tulle.
And each stitched and beaded design was sewn into the bodice in red thread.
Laudna wore her gold ear cuffs along with a single, dainty gold necklace in which a tiny lightning bolt hung from the chain.
Imogen blinked tears away, and when her throat tightened, threatening to render her utterly speechless, she whispered, You’re absolutely breathtakin’, baby.
Laudna looked down at her, big, dark eyes filled with adoration. You are beautiful, darling, she breathed.
She smiled that small, tender smile Imogen would never tire of receiving, and a teary chuckle broke from Imogen. “I can’t wait to marry you,” she said softly.
She ran a finger along the white streak in Laudna’s updo and continued tracing down her head and along her jaw until her lightning-marked fingers came to rest under Laudna’s chin.
Laudna bowed slightly so her forehead rested against Imogen’s, closed her eyes, and let out a slow, soft breath.
Her scent filled Imogen’s nose, and the fragrance was like being led home.
Laudna’s voice was a melody imprinted on her heart. “I can’t wait either, darling.” Her mouth jutted forward, but Imogen placed a finger against her lips, halting her.
She bit her lip, smiling. “Not yet, baby,” she whispered.
Laudna let out a breathy laugh and lifted her head. “Right. Sorry, I got lost in you, darling.”
Imogen sighed. Gods, I wanna kiss you so badly right now.
Laudna sent a mental image of what she wished she could do to Imogen right then and there, and Imogen choked on her own spit. She coughed, cheeks flushing. She couldn’t tamper the sly grin that appeared, though.
You’re blushing, darling.
Imogen cocked her head and squinted at Laudna. Ooh, you’re so lucky you can’t blush.
Laudna took a step back into a ray of fiery sunlight, which illuminated her in a stunning portrait of burning red and gold. She blew a kiss to Imogen. “I’ll see you at the altar, darling.”
Imogen pressed the kiss to her chest, right above her heart, and nodded.
…
The autumn sunset bathed the forest aisle in golden light as the setting sun peeked just below the trees at the edge of the forest clearing. A wooden arbor had been erected and draped in deep amethyst and dark red cloth, and woven throughout the arbor were white, dark red, and lilac roses.
Above, dozens of golden, dancing lights floated among the branches of the trees.
The aisle had been marked by a bed of straw scattered with petals of the same roses which adorned the arbor over the altar. Small columns of straw and lanterns marked the walkway down the aisle, and the lantern tops were tied with ribbon Laudna had crafted herself.
Friends and family were seated in wooden chairs Chetney had carved, and both bridal parties stood in line on their respective sides with Braius in the middle.
Dorian stood with his mandolin strapped to his back, patiently awaiting the signal.
Imogen ducked behind the tree where she hid at the back of the venue and clutched her bouquet of flowers tighter.
A hand nudged her thigh. “Are you ready?” Orym whispered.
Imogen looked down at him—at the sparkle in his eyes—and nodded.
We’re comin’ down, she whispered to Dorian.
At her command, he slid his mandolin around and practiced fingers began strumming a gentle tune that felt like being wrapped in Laudna’s arms. Then, Dorian’s soft voice floated like the clouds as he sang the promised words, and Imogen took her first steps with Orym at her side.
“You’re the one I’ve waited all my life for.”
All the guests stood and turned to watch Orym walk Imogen down the aisle.
“You’re the one I’d lose it all and die for.”
Imogen smiled at the elderly woman—at her dear friend—bundled in a shawl and hunched over. Zhudanna waved a thin, wrinkled hand, face scrunched in a smile.
“And as the sun transforms into the moon, I pray we’d never lose the fire of our youth.”
Opal turned to look, white hair gleaming in the sun. Her brown skin seemed to glow, and her eyes were bright. Opal Twice-Crowned, now crownless—and beaming at Imogen.
“I know I’ll never stop chasing your heart. My love is yours to hold.”
Imogen glanced to the right where she met the gaze of the Voice of the Tempest. Keyleth smiled softly at her, hands clasped over her chest. As Imogen passed, Keyleth bowed her antler-adorned head.
“Through every high and every low, our love will only grow.”
Near the altar, Liliana and Relvin looked on quietly, both their gazes filled with grief, regret, gratitude, and love.
“And I’ll be here when the sun sets, and I’ll be here until our final breath.”
Before Imogen took her place at the altar, she looked at her friends who stood there for her and Laudna, and sent them a silent message.
“My love is all for you.”
Orym held out his hand and guided Imogen to the center left, head bowed. He kissed her knuckles and then retreated to his spot to the side.
Imogen took a shaky breath, trembling fingers fidgeting with her bouquet once more as Dorian moved into an interlude.
Then, her music reached Imogen’s mind just as Dorian’s voice wafted across the grove.
“In the darkness, our love shines the brightest.”
Imogen turned away from the setting sun and set her gaze into the forest where Laudna emerged out of the shadow and into golden sunlight like a divine vision.
“When it’s hardest, it won’t paralyze us.”
Ashton, dressed in a charcoal black vest, trousers, and blood-red collared shirt, offered their arm to Laudna. Though still shorter than Laudna, Ashton stood tall, chest out, and head high.
“When it feels like we have lost our way, we may bend, but darling, we will never break.”
As they walked down the aisle, Imogen couldn’t take her eyes off Laudna. Everyone around them disappeared, and for a moment, nobody—nothing—existed outside of her love, her Laudna.
“I’ll never stop chasing your heart. My love is yours to hold.”
That tether between them pulled Imogen close, and she found herself falling into Laudna’s gaze. She was blue dawn wrapped in serenity, the peaceful dark of a star-covered sky, and a quiet melody which sang endless devotions unto Imogen’s soul.
“Through every high and every low, our love will only grow.”
My darling, Laudna’s mind echoed. My love. My Imogen.
“And I’ll be here when the sun sets, and I’ll be here until our final breath.”
Imogen only managed a breathless, love-sick exhale. Laudna.
“My love is all for you.”
Ashton, their crystal head a sparkling rainbow in the light, led Laudna opposite Imogen, and then bowed at the waist as they stepped away.
“It’s all for you.”
The autumn breeze rustled the changing leaves above as the music faded out and a calm quiet blanketed the grove.
Braius, dressed similarly to Ashton as part of Laudna’s bridal party, stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Friends and family of the honored brides, we are gathered here this evening to celebrate the union between two women whose love could rival the stars.”
Imogen scrunched her nose at Laudna.
His deep voice carried out to the guests as Braius continued. “What started out as a fierce friendship, Imogen and Laudna’s love slowly evolved into something so deep that the tether between their souls became more than just an immaterial bond. They committed to each other so unbreakably, that only the Matron herself could cut the thread connecting their souls.
“Now these two women stand before us and each other to declare that same love in the form of a more metaphorical promise to one another; in matrimony.”
Braius took a step back and inclined his chin.
Imogen handed her bouquet to Deanna and Laudna handed hers to Fearne. Then, Imogen’s scarred fingers finally caressed Laudna’s cool ones as the latter clasped Imogen’s trembling hands.
Laudna raised a brow. Should you go first, or shall I?
Imogen took a shaky breath. You go first so I have a little time to get my damn hands to stop shakin’.
With a nod, Laudna merely squeezed Imogen’s hands tighter, her cool grasp grounding her. Then, her beautiful dark eyes met Imogen’s and that small, soft smile Imogen knew so intimately, appeared.
“Imogen, darling,” Laudna began, those two words spoken with such quiet reverence Imogen’s heart fluttered. “I will never forget the moment I saw you—a small woman with lavender hair standing against the mob. I was a stranger, yet you defended me like a friend. I was alone for thirty years, and the moment I met you, I didn’t want to lose you.” Her thumb brushed over the back of Imogen’s lightning-marked hand. “Every day I am grateful you didn’t turn me away because as we fled that night, I’d decided that I would have run forever as long as that path led back to you, my love, the girl who’d saved me.”
Laudna shrugged, brows turning upward. “Because you did save me—in more ways than one. You first saved me that day in Gelvaan. Then you quite literally saved me from darkness and death. Again, when you asked to kiss me, and then finally when you helped me break free of Delilah forever.”
Imogen glanced at Laudna’s chest—at the faint purple glow which emanated from between thin, pale skin and black lace. She pulled her gaze away from that light source and back up to Laudna’s eyes—to where the woman she loved peered down at her with unending tenderness.
“You’ve stayed by my side every step of the way, even when things looked bleak—especially when things seemed bleakest.” A dry chuckle. “For years, I believed I was a dead end. I saw what I’d become and refused to acknowledge any way forward.” Laudna grasped Imogen’s hands tighter and touched them against her chest. “But you, Imogen, as you promised me that night under Kreviris, did not let go. When I tried to pull away, you merely held my hand tighter. Your love gave me the strength to fight for you, the woman I love.”
Laudna closed her eyes and inhaled—subtly and slowly as though she breathed Imogen’s essence in. When her eyes opened again, she said, “My darling Imogen, you are a warm summer breeze. You are light and soft laughter and gentleness. You are the one I can finally grow old with, and that in and of itself is the most amazing gift.
“So, my love,” Laudna said as she tucked a strand of lavender hair behind Imogen’s ear, “my promise to you is the same one I echoed back to you that night on Ruidus. Through the coming years I have with you, I will hold fast. As I take your hands in mine today, I will wrap that golden thread tighter and seal it with a kiss.” Tears gathered in Laudna’s eyes and her smile grew. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you—to live a simple life with you, to watch the sunrises with you, to raise children with you, to age alongside you, my darling, my love. Together.”
A teary laugh broke from Imogen as she sniffed and wiped a thumb under her eyes. She bit her lip, nodding. She stared up into Laudna’s eyes and whispered, That was beautiful.
Laudna’s thoughts sang, and instead of words, she merely smiled, bright and unburdened.
Imogen sniffed again and shook her head, pulling herself together. “Oh, gods, that means it’s my turn,” she mumbled. “Don’t mess this up, Imogen,” she muttered even quieter to herself.
She focused on Laudna—on her scent, her touch, her beautiful and haunting melody—and let that be her focus as the beat of her heart produced words spoken from her soul.
“Laudna,” she said softly, gently, “my peace, my music, my love.” A tear dropped into the corner of her mouth as she smiled. “This world is so loud, but you’ve always been nothin’ but a respite—a safe haven from the noise. The day I met you, it was your quiet that led me to you. Your beautiful mind was a light at the end of a dark tunnel. I’d been so lost in that suffocatin’ darkness, drownin’ in noise, and your music had pulled me to the surface.”
Imogen took a breath. “You saved my life that day. If you hadn’t come into town when you did, I don’t know how much longer I would have lasted. When my mind was crowded with thoughts and I became overwhelmed by the incessant buzz, your darkness, your blue-dawn quiet gave me peace. When those red storms consumed me and I had no way out, I reached for you. When I feared I’d float away, you anchored me.” She glanced into Laudna’s eyes and squeezed her hands. “Because you’re my tether, Laudna. You’ve always had a hold on me, even before our love had shifted into romance.”
Imogen chuckled. “Truth be told, I think I’d fallen for you long before I asked to kiss you. I think fallin’ in love with you was like slippin’ into one of my dreams—slowly and then all at once. I didn’t realize I’d fallen until I was standin’ in the middle of my feelin’s and there was no dream to wake up from. My reality was wakin’ up to you next to me. My reality was knowin’ I was safe in your arms and that I was not alone.
“Our souls are intertwined,” she breathed, touching a palm against Laudna’s chest, “and I hold your silver thread like the precious gift it is. You’re everythin’ to me, Laudna. You’re the calm in the chaos, you’re quiet in the noise, you’re a soothin’ cool touch when my scars burn. You’re my heart and my love.”
She reached up and wiped black tears from Laudna’s face. Laudna mirrored her, wiping salt from Imogen’s cheeks.
Then, Imogen tilted her head and smiled. “Through the storms of life, I promise I will embrace each new day, each hardship, each beautiful moment with you, and I will not let you go. After so much uncertainty, I can’t express how grateful I am that I get you for the rest of my life. You and only you. I get to experience life with you—the stormy nights, the cold mornings, the cozy afternoons, the walks through the trees, the sunny naps in the hammock, the horse rides at sunset, and even the sleepless nights when our baby cries relentlessly. But all of it will be beautiful because I will be experiencing it with you.”
Laudna turned her head and wiped ichor from her eyes before it could stain her cheeks. She sniffed and managed a chuckle. “That was wonderful, darling.”
Braius motioned to Deanna and Fearne. “Please present the rings.”
Fearne handed Laudna a gold ring inlaid with tiny amethyst gems around the top half of the band. Before she pulled away, the faun met Imogen’s eyes and smiled.
“Laudna,” Braius said, “do you promise to love and cherish Imogen Temult, to care for her in sickness and in health, and to remain faithful to her for as long as you both may live?”
Laudna slid the gold ring on Imogen’s left hand and nodded, eyes brimming with love and tears. “I do.”
Deanna reached up and handed Imogen a black ring inlaid with rubies around the top half of the band and patted her hip.
Braius turned to Imogen and the latter took a breath.
“Imogen Temult, do you promise to love and cherish Laudna, to care for her in sickness and in health, and to remain faithful to her for as long as you both may live?”
Imogen smiled softly at Laudna as she took her pale hand in hers and fit the black band to her left ring finger. “I do,” she breathed.
“By the divine power of the Platinum Dragon and that which resides within me, I now pronounce you wife and wife,” Braius announced. “You may kiss your bride.”
As if some force keeping them apart snapped, Laudna practically lunged forward. She cradled Imogen’s face and pulled her lips to hers.
Imogen pushed up on her toes, head craned back to meet Laudna’s height, and slotted her fingers in the perfect spots around Laudna’s ears and along her jaw.
Static electricity danced between their mouths, and as Imogen met Laudna’s lips with her own, a purple spark ignited at the climax of their connection.
The kiss was slow and deep and charged with passion. It was everything Imogen had been waiting for, and it took everything in her not to chase Laudna’s taste with her tongue.
When applause rose around them, Imogen pulled away, breathless, her gaze immediately latching onto Laudna’s whose dark eyes shone with a soft smile.
Her love rested her forehead against Imogen’s and lifted lightning-marked knuckles to her lips. “My darling,” Laudna whispered between kisses, “my wife, my love.”
Imogen jutted her chin forward and captured Laudna’s mouth with hers. I love you, Laud.
I love you, my darling.
“All right!” Ashton boomed, waving their hands. “Make way for the brides!”
Imogen laughed when they turned back and winked.
Orym bounded onto Dorian’s shoulders while the latter began playing a beautiful tune on the mandolin once more. Dorian beamed, his handsome smile lighting the space, and Orym’s eyes sparkled emerald in the golden sunlight. Ashton offered an arm to Fearne who gave a sly smile but accepted nonetheless. Chetney bowed and offered his elbow to Deanna and the dark-skinned gnome tilted her head, smiled, and looped her arm in his.
Braius bowed to FRIDA and offered his large arm. “Friend,” he inclined with invitation.
“Thank you, Mr. Doomseed,” FRIDA’s voice chirped from behind.
As the new brides left the altar, their family behind them and music floating in the air, Imogen leaned her head on Laudna’s shoulder and let her wife’s serene melody fill her soul.
...
Outside the barn, in a clearing surrounded by a sea of flaming foliage, Imogen led Laudna to the reception space, scarred fingers grasping cool, spindly ones.
She glanced back at Laudna who looked at her as though nobody else in Exandria existed, and motioned with her chin. C’mon.
Laudna smiled.
Tables draped with dark red and lilac tablecloths, matching roses and white orchids set as centerpieces, and purple candles so dark they were practically black, adorned every surface. Dancing lights strung along an invisible thread trimmed the open sky, illuminating the guests below, and where flower petals might have been sprinkled, dozens of Laudna’s little trinkets and creations had been scattered along the surfaces of each table.
Imogen touched a finger to the body of a thread spider and grinned.
“Pâté did such a good job,” Laudna whispered, pointing out the placement of the strange creations.
Imogen tilted her head, the whisper of a smile at her lips. “I never doubted him.”
Laudna kissed her shoulder and ran a hand through lavender hair.
Dorian’s music followed them, the smooth melody wafting around them like leaves in the wind.
Fearne galloped past them, dark red dress flowing like fey flowers in the wind, and shouted, “Dance!”
“Oh, yeah, baby!” Chetney howled, throwing his hips back.
Fearne slapped his butt. “Chet!”
“What?”
She gestured toward the brides. “Imogen and Laudna’s first dance,” she scolded.
Chetney waved a hand and scoffed. “I knew that.”
Small hands shoved Imogen from behind and she stumbled into the center of the grass. She whipped her head over her shoulder only to find Deanna shooing her with her fingers.
Dance! she mouthed. Go on!
“Yeah, go on, fun-scary,” Ashton muttered with a half-smirk, already leaning nonchalantly on the nearest table.
Laudna glanced from them to Imogen, and when their eyes met, the world around Imogen evaporated. Laudna fiddled with her hands, but she smiled nonetheless and closed the gap between them.
Imogen shrugged, eyebrows raised as she bit her lip. “May I have this dance?” She held out a lightning-marked hand.
Laudna grazed thin fingers over Imogen’s palm and stepped closer. “Of course, darling,” she whispered. “Though I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not either.”
Once Imogen had an arm around Laudna’s waist, she whispered, Hold tight, then pressed off a foot and into the air. Laudna’s scent mingled with the clear evening breeze, sun-dappled wood, florals, and spice, creating an aroma that wrapped around Imogen like a tangible safe haven.
Imogen leaned her cheek against Laudna’s shoulder and the latter rested the bottom of her chin on flower-plaited lavender hair. She placed a hand in Laudna’s palm as they circled slowly and that beautiful, haunting melody ribboned around Imogen’s senses.
As Dorian’s smooth tune continued, Imogen and Laudna simply held one another and swayed while floating gently in the air.
I love you, darling, Laudna breathed and the depth of her music deepened.
Imogen caressed the outside of Laudna’s hand with her thumb. I love you so much.
Tender lips kissed the top of Imogen’s head, I love you.
I love you.
Those three words, spoken like a sacred vow, hung between their immaterial bond, echoing softly as though each repeated declaration was a kiss on Imogen’s heart.
When the song ended, Imogen touched down to the grass, almost dizzy when reality set back in and the reception space around them materialized once more.
She glanced up at Laudna and smiled.
“Hit it, blue boy!” Chet hollered, pointing a finger at Dorian. “It’s time for this Master Craftsman to show his mastery of the dance floor!”
“Ooh!” Laudna quipped, black-tipped fingers twitching excitedly. “Come on, Chetney. Show us what you’ve got!”
Shouts of encouragement rose above the upbeat music, claps to the beat filled the atmosphere, and laughter rang through the valley as Bells Hells, whole once more, celebrated Imogen and Laudna.
...
As the evening turned to dusk, Imogen slipped away from the festivities to talk to other friends who had come and found several familiar faces at an outlying table.
Lady de Rolo, dressed in a beautiful form-fitting blue gown, and Lord de Rolo dressed in a fine suit of similar shade, talked quietly as Imogen approached.
Pike, seated to Lady de Rolo’s right, seemed to be nursing a wine flute while fiddling with her gold necklace. She wore a yellow dress, and her white hair had been pulled into a braided bun and adorned with gold jewelry. Pike glanced up when Imogen reached the table.
“Oh, your dress is even prettier up close,” she gasped, abandoning her half-drunk wine. Her eyes scanned Imogen from head to toe, seeming to drink in every little detail. “You’re stunning, Imogen.”
Imogen grinned and forced herself to not shrink away from the compliment. “Thank you.”
Lady Vex’ahlia squeezed Lord de Rolo’s hand and stood, smiling brightly. “Congratulations, dear.”
Imogen fidgeted with her ring between her right index finger and thumb. “Thank you, Lady de Rolo.”
Lord de Rolo gave a nod. “It was a lovely ceremony, Ms. Temult.”
“Thank you for comin’.”
Pike smiled. “We all appreciate the invitation.”
“I wanted to show my thanks, Ms. Trickfoot,” Imogen said softly. “This day wouldn’t be happenin’ without your help.”
She took a deep breath and looked to Lady de Rolo, memories of that morning in the Greyfield flooding her.
Go. Be with her. Love her. Don’t waste a second of it.
I don’t intend to.
“I haven’t wasted it,” Imogen said, flower-plaited hair blowing gently in the autumn breeze. “I won’t ever waste what time I have with her.”
Lady Vex’ahlia smiled tenderly, understanding in her hazel eyes. She glanced at her husband who stared at her with an adoring intensity.
From her periphery, Imogen caught a swish of red hair. She bowed her head to the Lord, Lady, and cleric. “Excuse me.”
By the refreshments table, two people were engaged in a light yet sincere conversation. Keyleth, who wore a simple forest green dress and smaller antlers, was accompanied by a young man. He had long, dark hair, pale skin, and dressed in all black save for a fiery autumn leaf pinned to his breast. While she talked, he simply looked up at her in quiet adoration. His expression didn’t shift much, but his hazel eyes conveyed the depths of his thoughts—and every single one seemed to consist wholly of the Voice of the Tempest.
“Imogen,” Keyleth turned with a smile.
“Tempest,” Imogen said with a bow of her head.
“Oh, no,” Keyleth waved her hands, “I’m just Keyleth today.” She smiled softly. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
The ghost of a smile graced the young man’s lips and he gave a slight nod. “Congratulations.” His voice was low, and his accent flowed across his tongue like smooth liquor.
Imogen returned the gesture. “Thank you.”
“Oh!” Keyleth gasped, blinking rapidly. “I’m so sorry. You two haven’t met.” She glanced at the man with a fondness Imogen often caught Laudna looking at her with. “This is Vax’ildan.”
“Pleasure,” he said.
Imogen blinked. “Vax’ildan…”
Lady de Rolo’s voice once again flashed through her mind. That man is my brother. My twin brother. Vax.
That’s why he seemed familiar—he shared a face with Lady de Rolo. “You’re Lady Vex’ahlia’s brother,” she breathed.
His eyes sparkled. “She is my sister and my best friend.”
Imogen’s gaze flitted between Keyleth and Vax. “How do you two...?”
Vax glanced sidelong at Keyleth as though she were the only thing that existed in Exandria. With a gentleness Imogen didn’t expect, he whispered, “She is my love.”
Imogen could have sworn Keyleth blushed. And for a moment, this wise, powerful woman seemed nearly overwhelmed with an innocent giddiness which she hid externally, but Imogen felt.
Keyleth looked into Vax’ildan’s gaze, the hardened lines at the corners of her eyes softening. She clasped his pale hand which he drew to his lips and kissed the Tempest’s knuckles.
Imogen smiled softly and looked to the Tempest. “I’m happy for you.”
Keyleth shook her head. “Well, thank you, but we should be the ones congratulating you. It’s your wedding day.”
Imogen shrugged. “What better time to celebrate love than at a wedding?” She clasped her hands behind her back and bowed her head. “Thank you for all you’ve done, Lady Keyleth. You’re part of the reason I was able to marry the woman I love today.”
The Tempest placed a gentle hand on Imogen’s shoulder. She tilted her head as though to speak, but instead, she gave a smile that spoke to Imogen more than words ever could. Keyleth nodded, brows scrunched in understanding.
Imogen?
Her mother’s voice crept into her mind, soft and hesitant.
She looked to the Tempest and her Champion, and excused herself, turning toward the sunset.
…
“It was nice to see you,” Imogen said, a small smile appearing as she showed her parents the way out.
The setting sun had lowered behind the trees, casting the sky in watercolors of orange and purple, and fireflies lit up the meadow like the stars which would soon appear above.
Liliana tucked a strand of hair behind Imogen’s ear and sighed. “My beautiful girl,” she said softly, almost as though she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
Imogen tilted her head. Then, she wrapped her arms around Liliana and whispered, “I love you, Mama.”
For a moment, Liliana did not move. Slowly, her hands crossed over Imogen’s back and grasped for purchase, holding her daughter tight. “I love you.”
That part of her which made her pull away earlier, tugged at Imogen’s mind, but she fought the instinct and instead breathed Liliana in.
I’m tryin’, Mama, she whispered.
A hand caressed the back of Imogen’s head. That’s already more than I deserve. Liliana kissed her hair. I will be eternally grateful for the second chance.
If I’d given up on Laudna when she was at her lowest, we wouldn’t be here today. Imogen inhaled sharply and pulled away, glancing through the crowd toward Laudna. She wouldn’t be here. She looked at her mother. If my friends had given up on me, I wouldn’t be here. We all saved each other.
“You saved me,” Liliana whispered. “Even after what I did.”
Imogen chewed on the inside of her cheek. She gave a curt nod and looked away. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Daddy: I love you. No matter what. Even when I didn’t want to, I did.” Flashes of the fight with Ludinus, now more blurred than before, appeared in Imogen’s mind. “You didn’t deserve that,” she breathed.
I would have understood if you had left me.
Imogen shook her head. I’d already lost you once. She glanced at Relvin who looked everywhere but at her and Liliana. I don’t want to lose either of you. Not again.
I never want to make such a mistake again.
You won’t.
Liliana exhaled and gave a sad smile. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“Me too, Mama,” Imogen whispered.
She turned to Relvin who removed his hat and didn’t take quite as long to look at her.
When he finally met Imogen’s amethyst gaze, the corner of her mouth quirked into a faint smirk. “One day we’ll be better with each other than horses.”
A dull, nasally chuckle escaped him. Calloused hands fidgeted with the brim of his hat for a moment before he sniffed and breathed, “I’d like that.”
Imogen stared up at him gently, earnestly. “Bye, Daddy,” she whispered.
Relvin raised a hand but stopped and curled his fingers into a loose fist, retracting slightly. The small muscles in his jaw feathered and he blinked several times as though his mind and body waged a war. Then, his expression softened and he moved slowly, reaching for Imogen.
He cupped the back of Imogen’s head and kissed her hair. “Goodbye, babygirl.”
Imogen stepped back and watched until her parents disappeared down the road and into the approaching night.
…
Hours after the celebrations had ended and the moons found their way into the heavens, Imogen, dressed in her blue sleep shirt and shorts, found Laudna on a quilt in their yard, staring up at the sky.
She knelt down, taking Laudna’s face in her hands, and kissed her. “Hi, baby,” she breathed.
“Hello, my darling.”
Imogen settled next to her and laced her fingers between Laudna’s. “Tired?” she asked, glancing sidelong at her.
Laudna met her gaze. “Wide awake.”
A laugh broke from her. “Me too.” She curled up on her side and rested her head on Laudna’s shoulder. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.”
Laudna craned her neck back so she could stare into Imogen’s eyes. She grinned. “But now I have you all to myself.” She crooked a finger under Imogen’s jaw and drew her forward until their lips met.
Imogen inhaled at the taste of her, and her mouth automatically began searching for more. She slotted her fingers around Laudna’s ear as she grasped by her nape, hands twisting in black hair.
Laudna’s other hand found the curve of Imogen’s hip and pointed nails grazed along her shorts, pulling up the hem of her shorts. Cool, spindly fingers ran along the stretch marks on the outside of her thigh, searching, feeling, wanting.
A huffed laugh broke from Imogen. I’m all yours, baby.
You’re mine, Laudna breathed, and the adoration in those two words awakened something in Imogen. Some part of me hoped for you before I ever called you mine, and I still can’t believe that I get to love you, Imogen.
Imogen kissed Laudna again before she sank back onto the quilt and curled against her once more. She wrapped an arm over Laudna’s torso and leaned into her wife’s figure—
“You’re my wife,” Imogen breathed. A part of her still couldn’t believe it. She married the love of her life and Laudna was her wife.
“My darling, my love, my wife,” Laudna said, smiling against Imogen’s cheek. A hushed shriek escaped. “My wife.” My darling Imogen, she whispered, I love you.
Imogen nestled her nose against Laudna’s, an unburdened smile blossoming on her lips. I love you so much, Laud.
I love you.
I love you, Imogen repeated like a promise. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Laudna’s music swelled like a cresting wave—magnificent, beautiful, and as haunting as the moon-kissed tide.
A mix of emotions—adoration, unconditional love, and unadulterated joy—mingled between them as their immaterial bond weaved around that thread which connected their souls.
Imogen felt the very depths of Laudna’s essence and she wanted nothing more than to sink into that pool and lose herself entirely within her love.
“I’m so grateful I get to love you,” Imogen whispered. “It’s the best thing I’ll ever do.”
“Loving you is a promise.” Laudna chuckled. “Perhaps the easiest promise I’ve ever made.”
Imogen laughed, tears welling in her eyes. “You’ve always had my heart, Laudna.”
I won’t let go. She whispered those four words that they’d promised to each other before speaking matrimonial vows aloud.
Laudna pressed the back of Imogen’s hand over her heart. I won’t let go.
“I’m yours, darling,” Laudna whispered back. “Forever.”
She stared up at the clear night sky adorned with stars, and for the first time in her life, Imogen did not shy away from the red glow of Ruidus as she fell asleep next to her love, her Laudna, her wife.