One Soul
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“You’ve calmed down quite a bit this last century, you know.” Ayrenn said, dragging one calloused fingertip leisurely around the rim of the open wine bottle that they shared. “Not nearly as much pillaging, stomping, or shouting.”
“You’re imagining it,” Ohta grunted into her glass. “I pillage, stomp and shout aplenty.”
Ayrenn smiled. “You play it up for the strays that you collect – don’t think I haven’t noticed the chaos you lot cause around the Isles – but it’s mostly bluster. Are you getting old, my Ohta?”
The last sentence was said in jest, but the other woman appeared to take it seriously. Ohta’s arched brows furrowed as she thoughtfully peered down into the rich contents of her glass.
“The young heroes need that sort of thing,” she said finally. “The strength, the shouting, the sense that all will be well if they push on with their fists raised. That’s what The Boar represents nowadays. Times are growing more troubled, and that spark of hotheaded heroism is needed now more than ever.” Her thin lips, stained dark by wine, curled into a small smile. “Heh. Did you hear the way that sounded? Maybe I am getting old.”
Ayrenn reached across the table and threaded her fingers through Ohta’s. Their palms, hardened by centuries of life and warfare, were warm to the touch. Ohta returned the small gesture without hesitation, covering her Queen’s hand entirely with her own.
“I am getting old too,” Ayrenn confessed. Her voice was soft, thoughtful, and as warm as the fire crackling in the hearth mere paces away. “We have been alive for a very long time, my Ohta. We have lost friends to time and made new ones, and lost those ones too. We have waged wars and ended them, forged alliances and broken them. We have watched the moons shift their course in the sky, and new constellations appear beside them.” Her hand squeezed Ohta’s. “It has been a long, glorious life.”
Ohta’s eyes, a vivid green that reminded her Queen of fresh spring, shone suspiciously bright in the dim light of the room. “I will serve you until the end, Ayrenn. I can think of no finer honour.”
“No, my love.” Ayrenn whispered. “I no longer need a subordinate. We will walk onto our last battlefield as equals in every sense of the word, and we will die as equals too. When the earth tastes our lifeblood, it will not know us as Agent and Queen.”
Ohta ripped her hand from the other’s grip and in one dizzying moment was falling to her knees in front of her Ayrenn, who was not her sovereign within these safe walls, but her lover. Her Ayrenn, for whom she felt a respect and affection that had cultivated for so long into something so profound it transcended all language.
“I thought we were discussing my pillaging, stomping and shouting,” she managed to choke out finally, drawing a musical laugh from the woman seated above her. Strong arms drew her in for an equally strong embrace, and Ohta could not help but crush her little Queen to her chest when they collided. Their hearts were beating fast and as one, their breaths matching in rhythm.
One soul. That was what they were, wasn’t it? There could be no other explanation, Ohta thought.
“I wish I could have married you,” Ayrenn breathed into Ohta’s shoulder.
“I don’t need marriage.” Ohta said roughly, her eyes pricking at the youthful wistfulness in her beloved’s voice. She pressed her cheek to Ayrenn’s starlit hair and inhaled. “It would not be enough.”
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A sappy 1am drabble of my favourite ladies. It’s been a very long time since I’ve written anything.
Also pls ignore any current/future TES lore discrepancies/inaccuracies, I have like a decade’s worth of lore and timelines to catch up on 😭🙏