the things we do for friendship (3/4)
original characters, f/f, cold
Wren wakes up sick the day of an important meeting and insists on going anyway. Vul isn’t sure how she feels about it.
(part 1 ) (part 2) (part 4)
The morning had started cool and breezy, chilly enough that it made perfect sense to wear layers, but it had warmed up by midday. All over the capital, people had discarded their coats, rolled up their sleeves, and thrown their windows wide open to enjoy the weather. Everyone seemed intent on savoring the fresh spring air as much as possible.
Well, almost everyone. Wren was freezing, bundled up in the softest sweater she owned. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed under a heavy quilt and watch old cartoons, but staying home hadn’t been an option. She and Vul had waited almost three weeks for a private audience with Queen Zara; rescheduling would have been unthinkable even if court decorum hadn’t forbidden it. This meeting was way too important to be derailed by something as trivial as a minor head cold.
Fortunately, she hadn’t had to say much after stating her case at the beginning. Vul had been doing an admirable job representing herself, and the Queen had addressed most questions directly to her, only asking for Wren’s input when Vul couldn’t answer adequately on her own. Wren had half expected the reverse, but the Queen had instantly welcomed Vul as she would have any foreign emissary, barely missing a beat once she’d recovered from the initial shock of meeting a real live alien.
That had been a spectacle to behold: the older woman had let out a high-pitched squeal more befitting an over-excited teenager than a sixty-something monarch, eyes bugging out of her head. To her credit, Vul had barely reacted, even though Wren knew the sound must have aggravated her friend’s sensitive hearing.
Regaining her composure, the Queen had promptly apologized and enthusiastically greeted Vul, and the two had been engrossed in conversation ever since. The discussion had touched on everything from geopolitics to theoretical astrophysics, often circling back to the same concept several times to give Vul’s translation device a chance to keep up.
Wren was trying her hardest to follow along, but she’d had a pounding headache for the past hour and it was taking all her willpower to keep from slumping forward in her chair and sleeping through the rest of the afternoon. She was so focused on keeping up appearances that she didn’t fully register the meeting wrapping up until Vul swatted at her thigh with her tail to get her attention.
“…won’t take kindly to us keeping such a big secret,” the Queen was saying. “We’ll have to plan our announcements carefully, but we should move fast. I’m thinking we go public sometime next week, that leaves us enough time to make the appropriate security arrangements and agree on a script.”
“That sounds good,” Vul said.
“Excellent. Wren, what do you think? You made first contact, it’s only fair that you should stay involved.”
“Next week is perfect, your Majesty,” Wren answered.
“Alright then, that settles it. One more thing, then I’ll let you go.”
What now? Hopefully, this would be quick.
“We’ll start recording from the arboretum. You might want to prepare a speech.” The Queen winked at Wren, actually winked at her like they were co-conspirators, then rose from the ornate conference table and left the room.
Oh, wow. Wren hadn’t been expecting that, but she wasn’t about to complain. Smiling to herself, she leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head with a sigh. “Ready to go?” she asked.
“Sure,” Vul chirped. Cheerful as always. “You okay? You sound different.”
Scratch that. She’d noticed, picked up on something with her inhuman hearing, and now she’d be worried and that was the last thing Wren wanted. Everything was fine, nothing worth stressing over, but Vul wasn’t used to seeing anyone in less than perfect health so she was bound to overreact the moment Wren so much as sniffled. The barrage of questions when she’d first discovered allergies had been bad enough.
“I’m just tired. Come on.”
The two of them made their way through the palace in silence, following the same narrow hallway they’d taken on the way in. After a few minutes of walking, they reached a large, heavy door protected by a biometric lock. Wren stepped up to it, leaned close enough to let it scan her eyes, then kept moving.
On the other side, a short set of steps led down into a tunnel. Running between the Queen’s chambers and a public park a block away from the palace, the rarely-used passageway allowed VIPs to come and go unseen; perfect for a secret meeting, but not the most comfortable way to travel. It was always brightly lit, fluorescent lights humming overhead no matter the time of day, and it always smelled like disinfectant.
Normally, none of this would have fazed Wren in the slightest, but this wasn’t a normal day. The sharp scent worked its way into the back of her sinuses almost immediately, throwing open the floodgates her cold had already pushed ajar. She sniffled wetly, scrubbing at her nose with her sleeve.
Vul certainly didn’t mind tunnels, as used to living underground as she was, but she still hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. “Wren?”
“I’b fide.” Ugh, that did not sound convincing. Wren cleared her throat, ready to try again, but it only made things worse. “The air id here does this sobe —SNFF!— sometimes. It’s just the smell, I pro-ohhm… prom-ihhh! HahHH-! AHHTSCHIEWWW!”
Vul stared up at her, tail lashing side to side. “Promise?”
“Yeah, that. I’m okay.” Wren hurried forward, moving as fast as she could towards the exit at the other end of the tunnel. Vul fell in step behind her, uncharacteristically quiet. No questions, no running commentary, nothing. Both girls’ footsteps echoed on the concrete floor, but otherwise their journey was almost eerily silent.
“HAHHTCHUU!”
Make that mostly silent.
Ten minutes (and another half dozen sneezes) later, Wren slid into the driver’s seat of her car. Vul climbed into the back, where tinted windows would hide her from other motorists, and Wren wasted no time turning onto the main road towards home.
She’d made the same trip many times before, and it was never a long drive, but this time it felt like an eternity. When she finally pulled into a parking space in front of her building, she slumped sideways, resting her cheek against the window. The cool glass felt so nice against her flushed skin, she might have stayed in that position for hours if Vul hadn’t spoken up.
“Come on, let’s go inside.” The alien sounded strange, not quite nervous but definitely tense somehow. She stuck close to Wren on the way upstairs, but wouldn’t meet her eyes, and she disappeared into her room the instant they made it into their apartment.
Hazily, Wren wondered if she’d upset her. If she had, it couldn’t be helped now. She’d check in later, but right then she was too tired for any lengthy conversation. She paused in the doorway just long enough to kick off her shoes, then stumbled to her own room for a much-needed nap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wren woke up around sunset, roused by the sound of what was unmistakably her blender running on its highest setting. She bolted upright, groaning softly; she’d fallen asleep in an awkward position, and her back and neck were stiff. Her headache was almost gone, though, and tight muscles would loosen up once she got moving.
After a quick detour to the bathroom to blow her nose and fix her ponytail, she entered the kitchen to find Vul emptying the blender into two glasses. The alien had made some sort of frozen drink, bright purple and slightly fizzy. She was clearly eager for feedback, thrusting one of the two glasses at Wren with a toothy almost-smile. “Here, try!”
Hesitantly, Wren took a sip of whatever it was. It was sour, almost earthy, with a sweet aftertaste. She knew her taste buds were a little off, but even under normal circumstances there was no way Vul’s concoction would taste normal. Setting the glass down next to the sink, she tried to school her face into a neutral expression. “What did you put in this?”
“Mostly Sprite and blueberries, a few cherries. Oh, and a little bit of onion. I didn’t know when you’d wake up, so I wanted to help. It’s what we do back home for anyone who can’t get their own food, mix up whatever we have so we can share.” Vul shifted nervously, tail drooping until the tip almost brushed the floor. “Was that wrong?”
“No!” Wren reassured her. “It was sweet, thank you.”
Really sweet, actually. Vul had been through so much over the past month, logically she should be the one seeking comfort, but instead she’d gone out of her way to be useful. Wren never would have asked for help, hadn’t even wanted to admit she wasn’t feeling well and risk stressing her friend out even more, but Vul had seen right through her.
“I really appreciate it. Honest.” What did I do to deserve a friend like her?
“But you don’t want it.” Vul spoke quietly. Her voice was dull, weighed down by the same strange tension as earlier that day, and she held herself rigidly.
“That’s not your fault.” Wren bit back a laugh. “You had no way to know, but just for future reference, onions don’t go in smoothies.”
“Oh! Sorry, is it that bad?”
Wren shrugged, hoping to soften the blow. “How’s about I order takeout, and sometime soon I’ll teach you some better recipes?”
“Okay!” Now Vul was the one laughing, bright and warm. The sound tugged at some deep part of Wren, urging her to join in the fun.
Soon, both girls lay sprawled across the kitchen floor, wiping away tears of mirth while Wren tried to compose herself enough to read a menu.
“How does soup —EHHTCHOO! EHTSCHUU! TCHUU!— Ugh, sorry. How does soup sound?”
“I don’t know,” Vul hedged. “Does it have onions?”
Wren started up again, practically cackling. Her breath scraped against her sore throat, but right then, she didn’t care. “Onions are supposed to go in soup,” she wheezed between giggles. “Soup. Soup isn’t a smoothie.”
“Noted. What about the other things, though? Like blueberries, do blueberries go in soup?”
“No! Definitely not. Blueberry smoothies are good, blueberry soup is just weird.”
Vul rolled onto her side and stretched towards Wren, poking her in the arm playfully. “I don’t know what goes together. We don’t have any of this stuff at home.”
“That’s why I’m going to show you. HAHHTCHU! Hehh… hehh-hehh-ehhtchiew! Hhehtcheeeww!” Wren paused, waiting for her body to make up its mind. When no more tickles materialized, she swiped her wrist under her nose before continuing. “After I get over this cold.”