happy birthday @rotisseries!!!!!!!! <3333 this is a 3.1k oneshot that started bc i was like 'it's rori i have to write smthn sapphic im so sick of writing yaoi for so called no.1 lesbian' combined with an outright refusal to write more narines, and of my fav tbos sapphics giving u nebarya content felt cruel and saymari aren't actually canon so it had to be my golden girls gilla !!!!!!!! enjoy and have a fab day u absolute thorn in my side love of my life <3
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Giwella was not known for being reactive.
She was cool as the winter waters of the Kroi Mountains, frozen over to many, a dangerous unknown beneath thick, icy armour. This was not to say that she was unfeeling, and it was something that took Lilla months to learn about the other woman. She remembered when she first joined the camp, wide-eyed and wonderous at all the newness, when Nate had told Gi to act as Lilla’s guard and Gi had, of course, unquestioningly obeyed him without so much as a flicker of opinion. Lilla had thought Gi hated her, at first. None of her attempts at conversation ever bore fruit, all her jokes fell flat, and it seemed to physically pain Gi to answer in more than monotonic, one-word responses. Then, the apathy began to get under Lilla’s skin, and she thought worse than Gi hating her, the other woman seemed completely, hurtfully indifferent to her. She saw Lilla as a charge, nothing more. An inanimate object to protect. She did not like her. She did not dislike her. Gi's entire being existed to Lilla as an endeavour in subservience to a master who did not want to claim her, a dog carrying its own leash in its mouth and trotting forever after Nate for the day he eventually picked it up. Loyal. Unbothered by anything else.
That dynamic confused Lilla. Giwella frustrated her. Nothing made sense outside of the little farm she’d grown up on.
But over time, she learnt Gi’s tells. She was not the emotionless, duty-driven husk Lilla had angrily written her off as, and it made Lilla obsessive, hungrily searching for any single reaction from the other woman and revelling in the victory of one for the entire day after. A twitch of a brow. A tug of a lip. Each a tiny offering to something insatiable inside Lilla, leaving her giddy and flustered in her tent afterwards, already scheming on how to get her next reaction from Gi.
Three years of reading Gi in all her tiny, microcosms of reaction later, and now, understanding the other woman’s true feelings came easily to Lilla. She even wondered how she’d struggled to see it so much before, how anyone could deny that Gi was entirely feeling.
Like right now, where Lilla could tell in the rigid set of the other woman’s jaw and the steel glare of her eyes, that Gi was without a doubt livid with her.
“What were you thinking?” Even now, Gi’s tone did not waver, her breaths coming in steadily. “You could have been killed. You're always throwing yourself into unnecessary fights.”
Lilla was sat on one of the counters in the Old House’s kitchen, pouting as she dabbed at the blood sluggishly dribbling down her arm from the long but shallow cut beneath her sleeve. Nate had given her a long, cold look before turning away from her when the fight got separated, and that silent refusal to heal her was all Lilla needed to know he was annoyed with her.
She wondered if that was the only reason for Gi’s anger now, if she even cared about Lilla past Nate’s own thoughts for her. It was a spiteful, mean thing to think, but Lilla wasn’t in the mood to be sparing.
“So what?” Lilla mumbled. “I should just let Aron say what he wants to me?”
Gi's glare hardened. “Yes.”
“No.”
“Lilla,” she exhaled quickly, a rare sign of impatience, “you’re being unreasonable on purpose. Bandage your wound and let it go.”
There had been a fight between Lilla and Aron. It wasn’t the first time and certainly wouldn’t be the last, but today had rattled Lilla worse than usual. Aron was one of the more extreme wisers in the camp, entirely devoted to Nate but with an equal hatred of the Harasaeons that extended to everything even remotely connected to them, including Lilla. To him, she was more Harasaeon than wiser, like something contaminated, and his cruel words and determination to kick her from the camp always left her gutted in ways she was too embarrassed to try explaining.
She knew Gi saw it, though. Knew that vulnerability scared the other woman more than anything, like one day Lilla would start a fight with Aron – a large, bulky treabela with the ability to move incredibly fast – and this weakness in her would allow him to win. It was no secret in the camp that Aron wanted her gone, but it was more insidious than that. There was a reason Nate had seen fit to allocate Lilla a guard when she joined, and Gi took that role just as seriously now as she did at the beginning, because she knew just as Lilla did that Aron didn’t just want her gone; he wanted her dead.
Today had been a mistake. Lilla had lost her temper and thrown the first hit. Her ability was the most powerful in the entire camp, but speed magickers were a different beast, and her emotions got the best of her. It made her sloppy, and Aron pinned her down with a blade.
If it weren’t for Gi’s quick, precise intervention that saw Aron swiftly dragged to the infirmary, he probably would have slit Lilla’s throat, consequences be damned.
She knew it. Nate knew it.
Here, quietly seething before her with dark eyes staring at the various cuts littering her skin, Gi knew it too. Her judgement made Lilla feel like she’d failed.
“He wants to kill me,” she said dumbly, rinsing the washcloth in the sink and watching her blood stain the water red, before returning to rubbing it at her skin a little too aggressively, focusing on the sting of each bruise and cut Aron had left behind.
“You already knew that,” Gi said.
“I never did a thing to him,” Lilla rubbed harder, “and he wants to kill me. Perhaps I have more experience being a Harasaeon than I like to admit, if this is how it feels. Hunted. Hated. How can someone who doesn’t know me just... just want me dead? Just like that? For something I hate too-.”
Gi strode forward suddenly, placing herself between Lilla’s knees and carefully taking the washcloth from her hand, tsking at the now irritated skin. Lilla watched her with parted lips, surprised by the proximity and afraid to ruin it.
Lilla was taller than Gi when they were standing, meaning she almost curved over the other woman now she was sat up on the counter, yet Gi’s presence always felt so demanding, so domineering. Her ability existed to strengthen others, but by sheer force of will, Gi had made herself one of the strongest in any room she entered. She made Lilla feel small, though not in a bad way. She'd known her whole life that there was a legacy sitting within her, flakes of gold rushing through her blood that no amount of upset could ever claw out, and everyone she’d ever met had treated her differently for it except Gi.
With Gi, Lilla could be less than her birthright. For the first time since swinging her fist at Aron’s throat, Lilla took a full breath.
“Don’t fight him again,” Gi said quietly, not looking up from her task. She ran the washcloth over Lilla’s flushed skin with a gentleness that completely opposed her usual harshness, cleaning up each drop of blood with a reverent focus that made Lilla feel stripped bare.
“Okay,” she agreed, because what else could she do? Gi was beautiful like this.
The other woman looked up at her, brown eyes narrowing, and her face was suddenly so close. Surely they had been this close before? Lilla had forgotten what they were talking about, and realised her mistake when small creases of frustration began to tug at Gi’s eyebrows.
“You’re not even listening to me,” she said, words sharp after such uncharacteristic gentleness, making Lilla flinch. “You’ll throw yourself into the next fight with no regard for anyone else, same as before-.”
A flash of indignance shot through Lilla. “I’m not some helpless child, you know-.”
“You could have died-.”
“But I didn’t-!”
“You might next time!” Gi suddenly snapped. It was barely an increase in volume, but for her, it was akin to yelling, and blindsided Lilla so much that she could only blink for a few tiks. This... was more than Gi’s commitment to her duty. She saw any injury to Lilla as a personal failing, and it frustrated her, but this was something else.
For a moment, brief and gone in an instant, Gi looked scared.
“You...” Gi struggled to get the words out, too unaccustomed to such outbursts to be able to communicate them well. “You are always first to sacrifice yourself. You never think.”
“I’m okay,” Lilla whispered, ducking her head down so that their foreheads touched, too enraptured to even blink.
“He hurt you,” Gi argued.
“I’m okay.”
“Next time-.”
“There won’t-”
“Gods,” Gi huffed, “do you ever listen?”
And then, she grabbed a fistful of Lilla’s shirt, yanked her forward, and kissed her hard on the mouth.
It was fast and Gi’s lips were hot against hers, and Lilla tensed in utter bewilderment for a moment before everything in her silenced. Any confusion, any wonder, any questions – it all melted into the slide of Gi’s lips on hers, the taste of the peppermint tea the other woman always drank in winter, the tease of a tongue that sent a shiver across every inch of Lilla’s skin until she felt like she wanted to claw out of herself to press entirely against Gi. She instinctively closed her thighs tight around Gi’s hips to keep her close, to never let her go, and reached desperate, shaking hands to marvel at firm shoulders, but before she could touch, Gi pulled herself away, stronger than Lilla and escaping her hold quickly, putting two paces of distance between them. Lilla’s hands hovered outstretched and rejected in the air.
To anyone else, Gi would look unphased, deadpan, but Lilla saw the blush creeping up her neck, the dilation of her pupils, and the wide-eyed horror she was trying desperately to hide.
“Gi...” Lilla breathed. She didn’t know what she would have said, but Gi didn’t give her the chance regardless, turning on her heel and calmly leaving the room. Lilla stared at the doorway for a long time after hearing the front door shut, mind racing, heart thundering, and over the cacophonous yell of what the fuck just happened roaring in her head, she reached trembling fingers to kiss-red lips, and swore she could still taste peppermint.
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Gi had spent so long living for herself in the woods that it was impossible not to flee to them now. She hadn't been back to the camp since her apparent total lapse of sanity. She was a coward. She was weak. Three years of keeping careful distance between her and Lilla, three years of silently loving that beautiful, enraging, sunbeam of a woman, and she had thrown it all away. A friendship she cherished gone because of her own whims.
She had loved Lilla for as long as she had known her. That very first time, being introduced and met with such a golden smile, knowing the ability she had as a wiser, knowing the bloodline she inherited as a Harasaeon, and yet thinking there was something so impossibly human about Lilla that it was instantly disarming to anyone who met her. Nate told Gi to protect Lilla, aware of the pockets of wisers in camp who wouldn’t take kindly to her, and Gi agreed like always, but there was something... more. Lilla was blinding, and impossibly, indisputably good. Clueless to the world’s cruelty. The thought of anyone tarnishing that made Gi’s hands itch with the need for a violence she had always known. It terrified her, the amount of blood she was already willing to spill for this stranger.
It was the first time she understood wanting to follow a queen, to live and die and kill for her while she existed entirely out of her sphere, unaware of her, never touched by her. Harasaeons and their beauty had inspired such obsessive devotion for decades. Gi had thought it was an exaggeration, perhaps entirely mythical, but fuck, Lilla was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she could do no more than look from a distance.
Gi was content to live that way. She knew her role as Lilla knew hers. Nothing was supposed to change that.
Then, Lilla got hurt. Aron almost killed her. It had taken a barked warning from Nate to stop Gi from killing Aron the moment she saw him pull back his blade, Lilla pinned beneath him. She should have ripped his skin from his bones at each point of contact. She should have burned him alive where he stood, broken all the bones in his hands, punch his face into an unrecognisable mess. Who was he to touch someone like Lilla? To raise a hand to her? To threaten her life?
Gi had failed. She hadn’t been there. She was almost too late. The terror of that had made her nauseous, crackling like a lightning storm readying to strike a forest as she watched the carelessness with which Lilla cleaned her wounds, the self-loathing with which she talked about herself, and suddenly Gi just... couldn’t do it. The storm broke. The trees caught fire. She had to taste, forever a greedy, starved little girl who was never given what she needed, and it had been so, so addicting.
But Lilla was not hers to have, and before she was a warrior, Gi was a coward. She ran to the woods and hid, and had done for four days now.
It was only a matter of time before Naithan found her.
Gi was crouched in the snow beside a stream, a spear in her hand that she had carved herself during her escape to the woods. Hunting in winter in a landscape as harsh as the Kroi Mountains required experience and patience, and a certain tolerance towards wanting but never having. It was something all northerners knew – hunger. Many of the fish settled elsewhere in winter, or simply died from the cold, but Gi knew that didn’t mean there was none. Trout, for instance, tended to survive by moving downstream to slower waters, like where Gi had been waiting for a while now, breath coming out in foggy bursts as she watched the stream with a hunter’s eye.
A flash of a fin, and her spear lunged like the bite of a predator, skewering the fish perfectly. It was as she was gutting it on the rocks that she heard Naithan approaching, knowing it was him by how ridiculously heavy his footfalls were, and how intentionally he made his presence known behind her. It had taken them years, but now, Gi didn’t flinch, or even turn around.
He crouched beside her wordlessly, a colossus of a man who completely dwarfed her even now she was grown. He watched her practised movements for a bit, the casual way blood stained her hands, the ease with which her knife tore meat, before sighing.
“Are you coming home soon?”
Gi flinched. Home. She never called it that, too frightened of giving it a name that had only ever been taken from her, like the moment anyone addressed it would confirm a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Her voice was emotionless when she spoke. “Does Nate need me?”
“Lilla does.”
“She told you?”
“I guessed.”
Gi stared at the dead fish, its blood staining the snow. She'd caught several different animals since being back in the woods, prepping and eating some for herself as the days passed, but keeping others to bring back to camp so she at least had something to show for her absence. The fish she had planned to eat raw. Somehow, Naithan seemed to know that.
“We can cook it back at camp,” he offered. “Add some butter, some garlic, parsley, a bit of lemon – you know that’s Faucis’s favourite. He'll be thrilled.”
Gi recognised an excuse when she heard one, and tsked, turning her head to the side to avoid Naithan’s knowing stare. She must have looked like a moody child. Luckily, he had a lot of experience with that.
“I don’t want to go back,” she muttered.
“Then we’ll stay here a bit longer.”
Like it was that easy. Naithan always made things seem so easy. It used to frustrate Gi, made her feel coddled and condescended. Now, she let out a breath of relief, looking back at him with a nod. Carefully, she sliced the fish into bite-sized chunks, offering Naithan a knife to skewer his own. He wrinkled his nose, the action always making the notable crook at its bridge twist to the side oddly, and Gi almost smiled. He hated raw fish.
He took it from her anyway, and past his disgust, he grinned.
“It’s a wonder how you catch so many,” he said, sounding proud. “The best hunter in camp, our becc’arf.”
Bear cub. It was a stupid nickname he’d been calling her ever since they first met and she’d broken his nose. He'd always praised her for her spirit, for a wily temperament no one had tolerated before. She ought to hate the nickname, but she secretly cherished it.
They ate in silence. Naithan wouldn’t pressure her or demand answers, and it loosened something that had sat tight and uncomfortable in Gi’s chest for four days. Of all their shared friends and campmates, Gi would never dare to claim any part of the Brotherhood as hers over Lilla’s, but Naithan... Naithan was different.
“Tell me what to do,” she said quietly, staring at the blood drying in the callouses of her hands.
Naithan chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her hair, a mundane action that had taken them years of trust to reach.
“Giwella,” he said fondly, “you think yourself a dog, good only when given a demand to follow. I will not pull your leash on this. You will figure out what to do and you will do well by it. I know it. You have a strong heart, brave, honest.” He grinned crookedly, nudging a knuckle against her chin. “I couldn’t be more proud.”
They walked back not long after, discussing what to cook for lunch from the game Gi had with her, arguing over different meals and ingredients with an easiness and a fondness Gi had once thought would forever evade her. She thought seriously about Naithan’s words the entire time. They still left her feeling clueless and wrong-footed, but there was a reassurance there.
All she could do was talk to Lilla, stop hiding away like a coward and face what she had done, and in the meantime, the forest was full of life, and Gi would protect her friends, and through it all, she would at least have Naithan to tempt her back, to tempt her home.
