“Please. Just put your glasses on,” Sophie borderline begged Steph, trying to hand the frames to her, “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Someone sees me with them on obvious!” Steph retorted as she ignored the other’s attempt, “I don’t need them anyways. I can see perfectly fine without them.”
With that comment Sophie debated whether or not she wanted to tell Stephanie that she was going to run into the corner of the wall if she didn’t move over. On one hand it would have been the nice thing to do. On the other hand however-
“AH! fuck-” Steph swore under her breath as she ran directly into the wall. She stumbled back a bit and shook her head.
“You were saying?”
“BEAUTY HURTS ALRIGHT SOPHIE?”
Sophie simply tsked as she moved closer to Steph, “Well you are beautiful regardless of whether you have your glasses on so.” The comment was enough to give Steph pause. She didn’t protest when Sophie went to gently place the frames on her face.
“Fiiine, I’ll let you have this,” Steph said. She sighed, adjusting her glasses, “But it’s not going to work on me again.”
Adalia jumped at the unexpected voice. She whipped around to face whoever it was with her in this void.
It was 'Wilbur'. The strange darkener she had met not too long ago. She had tried to kill him then with little success. Now here they were. Adalia was sure this was a dream, but everything felt too distorted to really tell.
"Is it ever worth it?" Wilbur asked again in the same soft tone he had before.
Adalia scowled, "Is what worth it?"
"Revenge."
That wasn't what the lightener was expecting.
"Why wouldn't it be?" Adalia asked. They felt curious despite themself. Despite their uneasy at being so close to a destructive being, even if it was just a dream.
"Well I've been watching things for a long time. And though I don't remember a lot, I know people have been taking revenge for a while," Wilbur said, "A darkener killed a lightener, and then another lightener killed a darkener, and then another, and then a darkener killed that lightener. On and on. Even when the cycle 'stops' it finds a way to start again."
Wilbur took a step towards Adalia. She tried to step back, but found she couldn't. Panic told her to draw her sword. Her body didn't move an inch.
Soon Wilbur was in front of Adalia. It tilted it's head at them, "A darkener killed your mother, and now you want to kill them. If you don't kill them there's a good chance they will kill you. Then someone else will want to get revenge for you," Wilbur sighed, "And if you do manage to kill that darkener, someone out there will want to get revenge for her."
There was something particularly, feral, about Nova. Nearly everything about her screamed “feral animal”. Less than charming to most. But Daphne found it just the slight bit endearing.
The hissing most of all.
The first time Nova hissed at Daphne she simply froze up in shock. How else was she supposed to react? Upset animals hissing at her she could anticipate, upset Nova hissing at her not so much. At least not before.
Now it was pretty much an expectation.
“You’re a snake you know that?” Nova growled at Daphne. Tone sharp and prickly.
“I’m the snake?” Daphne asked. She loosely wrapped her arms around the other. hoping to soothe their tempter, “I’m not the one hissing at people.”
“At least I have arms,” Nova retorted.
That one gave Daphne pause, “What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’?”
“Do- do snakes not have arms?”
Nova pulled away from the Queen, ”Please tell me that’s not a serious question.”
Daphne gave her a sheepish smile.
“How do you know that snakes hiss but didn’t know they don’t have arms?!”
“Well one I’ve never seen one and two most things have arms???” Daphne reasoned.
“You’re hopeless, why did anyone think giving you power was a good idea-”
Lovers may have been a strong word for whatever was going on between Nova and Daphne. Yet friendship wasn’t quite right either. Neither was enemies.
As Daphne always seemed to put it when asked, “It’s complicated.”
But simply saying “it’s complicated” trivialized the matter. It ignored all the little cracks in the foundation of a relationship constantly ready to crumble. All the comments, and the looks, and the suspicion, and the hurt.
Not to say it was all bad. No, Nova found plenty to like in Daphne. She wouldn’t put up with the Queen otherwise. The other was curious, talented beyond words. Absolutely beautiful. With a voice sweet enough to make you melt.
Yet.
Nova couldn’t quite be sure the Queen returned the sentiment.
“Do you even like anything about me?” Nova had bitterly asked one day, almost to herself.
“Of course I do,” Daphne had assured, “Like how passionate you are in the things you do.”
There was an unspoken “but” to that statement. There seemed to be one to everything the Queen said about Nova.
‘I enjoy your passion about things, but I won’t say what things or get any more specific because you know why.’
When things got specific they got complicated.
‘I enjoy your passion so you can live a little longer.’
No one liked when things were complicated.
Especially Daphne.
So they weren’t complicated. At least not in that way. They hit a different level of trivializing complication.
The kind of empty compliments, vague comments, and allowance to let Nova exist. It was sickening. Sometimes Nova wondered if they were poisonous to the touch. If the simple act of them being present could kill.
Steph was less than thrilled when Sophie handed her a piece of paper and went, “Can you read this for me?”
Mostly because she didn’t have her contacts.
When she had gotten up that morning she had put on her glasses for convenience sake. She then proceeded to forget she had them on until she had basically gotten to Sophie’s house. Sure, she could have gone home to get her contacts but she really, really did not want to go home.
So instead she took her glasses off, put them in her bag, and went into Sophie’s house fully prepared to pretend she had her contacts. Easy enough, right?
Steph glanced over at Sophie. The other looked completely lost in whatever she was taking notes on. Surely she wouldn’t notice if Steph squinted slightly at the paper to force her eyes to focus. Steph did so, wincing at the discomfort the strain put on them.
“Stop that,” Sophie abruptly snatched the paper out of Steph’s hands, “You’re going to mess up your eyes even more. I had a feeling you didn’t have your contacts in but I wanted to check.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I have my contact in,” Steph said as she crossed her arms.
“It’s just us here you know? It’s not like anyone other than me is going to see you with your glasses on,” Sophie pointed out.
Steph simply huffed at her in response, shutting her eyes to stop herself from blinking at the uncomfortable feeling that lingered in them. She heard the soft sound of something rustling.
“Here,” Steph opened her eyes to see Sophie holding her glasses out to her, “put them on.”
“No.”
“Please?” Sophie asked, voice suddenly turning softer than Steph had ever heard. It was enough of a rarity for the other to say please, let alone so nicely. That fact alone was almost enough to get Steph to cave. She swallowed roughly.
“Nice try, but still no,” Steph said.
“I’ll put them on your face myself if I have to,” Sophie warned, face turning serious.
“I’d love to see you try,” Steph mocked in return.
She wasn’t anywhere close to prepared for Sophie to actually try.
Suddenly the other was practically on top of her as she attempted to get the glasses on her face. Almost immediately Steph froze up, just long enough for Sophie to be successful. The second the glasses were on her face she snapped out of her daze and pushed the other off.
“What was that?!” Steph asked, voice coming out shill. She could feel heat rising to her face.
Sophie shrugged as she sat back down, “You said you wanted to see me try. I did. I was successful, so you have to keep them on now.”
“I didn’t agree to that!” Steph argued as she adjusted the frames. It was nice to be able to see Sophie properly as much as she didn’t want to admit it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to keep them on.
“You didn’t, but it’s only fair that my efforts don’t go to waste,” Sophie said, turning her attention back to what she had originally been doing. Steph watched her for a moment.
“Fine. But I don’t like it,” Steph agreed as she crossed her arms tighter.
“You know if you’re so worried all the time you should try knocking on wood, it’ll stop the bad things from happening” Steph had told Oliver.
It had just been a passing comment. It wasn’t meant to be anything more. A bit of poking fun at his anxious tendencies and occasional ramblings.
It turned into much more than that.
Oliver wasn’t entirely sure when he started to do it. At first it was intentional. He remembered what Steph said and did it to try to calm down. But now it was out of habit. Out of a need for any kind of reassurance that those awful things he was imagining weren’t going to happen. Knocking on wood was something he could influence when everything else in the world was out of his control. He did it almost as a flex. Even if it drove Rhett up the wall whenever he did.
Or at least that’s how Oliver saw it. If he did it when Rhett was around the other would grab his wrists and hold them in place until he “calmed down”. It was less than helpful. Especially during the moments when he was particularly antsy. Though it did help him become very, very good at faking and hiding it.
The only person that hadn’t made any comment on the habit was Lilyana. Even after Oliver had done it pretty abruptly in front of her one time. He had expected her to say something. Nothing as mocking as the things the others had said, but a question at least. Instead all she gave was a slightly confused look before moving on. He was grateful for that.
“Why does it feel like I have the entirety of Alenor on my shoulders?” Lilyana couldn’t help but groan from the weight of the cape wrapped around her. It was a struggle to just stand up straight. The fabric seemingly trying to pull her down.
“That’s the point,” Adalia said, “As royal advisor you’re taking on the same responsibilities that I am. The cape is both the literally and metaphorically burden of that.”
“Do I have to wear it?” Lilyana asked, shifting her shoulders, “I think the metaphorical burden is enough pressure.”
The Queen scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Yes you do. There are no exceptions.”
Lilyana let herself slouch.
I’m regretting this more by the second.
“How do you walk around with it on constantly?” Lilyana couldn’t help with another question.
Adalia gave a wave of her hand, “You get used to it.”
Lilyana crept silently through the room. Trying hard not to make a sound. Not that she had to worry about being caught. She was the only living thing that lingered there. But the thought of breaking the eerie stillness was convincing enough for the time being.
“I see the walls that are torn and bent“
Her eyes scanned the walls. There was little evidence of what had happened there all that time ago. Only small imperfections remained. Details you would only catch if you were looking for them. Invisible scars.
“The tug of war in the now not yet”
Slowly she approached the end. There was were the damage inflicted in the room became a lot less subtle. Noticeable scratches and crackles from the war that had been waged. The war the had never truly been ended. The war Adalia wanted nothing more than to win.
“Holding back what they can't contain“
Adalia. Her sister. Ambitious. Determined. Impulsive. Reckless. So in over her head that it was only a matter of time until she crashed and burned to nothing. Unwilling to back down. No matter how much Lilyana tried to convince her.
“Can you tell me why I feel this way“
Lilyana crouched down, bringing her hand to gently ghost over a mark that had been left in the floor. It was barely visible, but she could more than feel the indent when she ran over it. A lump grew in her throat.
“I have faith that the world I'm in“
Carefully, Lilyana brought her hand back, as if afraid that if she went too quickly the hurt caused here would spread. She stood up.
“Will be redeemed to its place again“
Part of her wanted to sink into the throne that was before her. To sit down in it and never get up. Never have to leave the peace of being alone. Away from all those stares and whispers.
“But there's a weight that I can't explain“
If only.
“So-”
“Tell me why I feel this way,” the sentence came out of Lilyana like a whisper. But it almost seemed to consume everything. Bouncing off the walls like she had shouted the phrase. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for a response.
“Moving deeper in a place of rest”
A chuckle answered back. It was low and rumbly. A familiar tone that Lilyana hadn’t heard in years. One that most would take as mocking. Yet something about it almost made her smile.
“Seeking victory inside a death”
“You already know the answer to that.”
“Speaking slowly when I’m out of breath”
“I know.”
“Losing confidence between the steps“
Lilyana barely caught the sound of approaching footsteps. She resisted the urge to turn around. After a moment a hand rested itself on her shoulder.
“Hold to this significance”
“So what will you do now?” the voice asked, its tone having turned hush to match Lilyana’s own.
