Nadia x Non-Apprentice! OC | Reclaimed Trope | Friends to Lovers
Week 2 of @vesuvianpride with Reclaimed Tropes! Pulled one of my all-time favorites out for this one, featuring Miriam and Nadia!
This takes place pre-plague, around the same time as this piece, about a year after Nadia and Lucio got married.
1.7k words ❤️
“Gods, what is he doing now?” Miriam hissed to Nadia, who was busy trying to look everywhere but at her husband. He was drunkenly challenging Vulgora to a fight, but the challenge involved them both standing on the dining table. Thankfully most of the food from their lunch had been cleared already, but that didn’t deter Lucio from brandishing a turkey leg as his weapon of choice.
Nadia glanced up at Lucio and paled, watching him take a rough bite out of his “weapon” before leaping across the table at the Pontifex. She found Miriam’s hand under the table and gave it a hard squeeze, which was their code for get me out of here, now.
Miriam winked at Nadia before putting her fingers in her mouth to blow a piercing whistle. It was enough to stun Lucio in his leap momentarily, and by the time he turned around towards Miriam, the dining room doors burst open. Mercedes and Melchior ran in and started jumping up around the table, trying to get to Lucio, and more importantly, the meat in his hand. In the chaos, Nadia was able to get up from the table and leave quietly.
Almost an hour later, Miriam had successfully wrangled the two dogs and Lucio into his room, dismissed the courtiers, and made sure that the servants had finished cleaning up the dining room before she went to Nadia.
She knocked three times at her door and waited. Nadia poked her head out with a suspicious look, but once she saw it was Miriam the look faded, and she pulled the other woman into her room.
Nadia sighed once the door closed behind them. “Thank you, Miri.”
“It was my pleasure, Nadi,” Miriam grinned. She had taken great joy in watching Lucio make a fool of himself, as always.
“He continues to be… an enigma to me.” Nadia rubbed her temples, frowning.
Miriam hummed, taking Nadia’s hands in hers. The Countess’s face softened, and she leaned forward to press their foreheads together.
“At least I have you to keep me sane.”
Feeling her brain start to short-circuit, Miriam snorted, stepping away before she did something regrettable. “Relatively speaking, at least.”
Nadia laughed at that, still holding onto Miriam’s hands. She intertwined their fingers, each stroke sending a jolt of electricity up Miriam’s spine. “I’m so glad you decided to stay here. With me.”
Miriam thought back to the day, almost a year ago, that she had decided to stay. The wedding had been over for a month, but she couldn’t pull herself away from Vesuvia or Nadia. The new Countess seemed so quiet, standoffish even, but there were moments where Miriam caught the distant, lonely look in her eyes. She had made it her personal mission to see her smile, and they had been sitting on the veranda together when Miriam made her laugh, really laugh, for the first time. When Nadia looked at her with happy tears in her eyes, the other woman knew there was no way she could leave her alone again.
“You’re my best friend, Nadia. And besides, I wouldn’t be having this much fun back home. I’d just be out in the fields again.” She pulled a face, and Nadia giggled.
“Oh, how awful.”
“Make fun of me if you want!” Miriam tried to pout, but the smile tugging at her lips made it impossible. “But it was not my idea of a good time.”
Nadia smiled, a mischievous look in her eyes. “I know what your idea of a ‘good time’ is.”
Miriam nodded. “Torturing Lucio.”
“No!” Nadia laughed, and Miriam felt her heart flutter in her chest. “Well, yes, but I was going to say riding.”
“If you want to go riding, all you have to do is ask. Or tell me, since you do hold rank above me, twice over.” Miriam bowed deeply, giving Nadia a goofy grin. “I’ll do anything you want.” She wasn’t joking, but she didn’t expect Nadia to know or care.
Instantly, it seemed like Nadia’s mood changed. Her grin vanished and she took Miriam’s face in her hands, holding her gaze steadily. “Anything?” One eyebrow was raised, gauging Miriam’s reaction as a thumb stroked the other woman’s cheek.
Miriam blinked. “Uh,” she said, eloquently. All of her previous thoughts flew from her mind as she stared into Nadia’s eyes, their faces only a few inches apart. She could count her eyelashes.
“Well then, let’s go, shall we? There aren’t many hours of daylight left today.” Just like that, the heavy air dissipated, Nadia letting go of Miriam’s face. She started walking toward her closet. “I’ll meet you by the stables, alright?”
Miriam nodded, her head still a bit foggy, and she left Nadia’s room quickly. The walk to her room went by in a blur—her heart was jumping up and down in her chest, and she knew her face was on fire. Every time she thought back to Nadia, those hands on either side of her face, her stomach clenched. Even as she dressed for riding, she caught herself getting distracted, her own fingers ghosting over her collar, imagining them as Nadia’s slender fingers instead.
By the time she was able to shake herself free from her thoughts, finish dressing, and pull her hair back into a braid, the sun had started its descent in the sky.
“Ah, hell!” She cursed, sprinting down the halls to the stables. Nadia was already waiting and gave Miriam an amused look when she came to a breathless stop, leaning heavily against the stall. “Sorry, Nadi! I got, uh, I got—” She was going to say distracted but then her eyes took in Nadia’s riding outfit and she lost her train of thought.
Nadia chuckled, stepping closer to Miriam. “You ruined your braid.”
“Fix it for me?” Miriam smiled, batting her eyelashes at the slightly taller woman.
“After you made me wait for so long?” Nadia huffed, but there was no real malice to her tone. She was already reaching out to re-braid Miriam’s hair, and Miriam sighed as her fingers combed through the strands. They stood in silence while Nadia worked, and Miriam let her eyes close, head sinking forward as she relaxed. She thought she felt something soft press against the nape of her neck, but then Nadia gave her hair a rough tug, almost causing Miriam to fall back.
“Nadia!”
“Just making sure it won’t come undone again.”
“You almost pulled it out of my scalp,” Miriam pouted, flinging the braid over her shoulder. Adjusting herself, she grinned, cocking an eyebrow at Nadia. “I’ll race you to the top of that hill!” In a blur, she leapt onto her horse’s bare back, a palomino stallion with a similar temper and spurred it onward, out of the gate.
She could hear Nadia’s laughter in the background and pushed her horse faster. In no time at all Nadia caught up, though Miriam dared not turn around to look, and just kept pushing forward until she crested the top of the hill, Nadia barely a second behind.
“Who’s a good, strong boy?” Miriam cooed, petting her horse’s nose as she dismounted, glancing towards Nadia. “Who’s the fastest horse in Vesuvia?”
He snorted, tail whipping in the air.
Nadia rolled her eyes, stroking her horse’s mane as she swung her legs to the ground. “Don’t listen to her, Rani. You’re the fastest. They just cheated.”
Miriam gasped, putting her hand over her heart. “Cheated! Me?”
Narrowing her eyes, Nadia moved close to Miriam, putting her hands on the other woman’s hips. “Now, how shall I punish you, hm?”
Again, Miriam found herself at a loss for words. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and watched as Nadia’s gaze flickered from her lips back to her eyes. The Countess’s gaze was sharp, and it coupled with the tender grasp she had on Miriam’s hips left Miriam feeling weak in the knees.
Nadia sighed, her breath stirring loose strands of hair from Miriam’s face. “Oh, Miri, you’re so fun to tease.” She pulled Miriam closer, until their hips were pressed together. “But there is something I want from you.”
Miriam bit back an embarrassing noise, turning her head away. She slowly rested her hands on Nadia’s shoulders, feeling them relax under her touch. “I did say…” she felt her face start to burn but continued, “…I’d do anything you want.”
“Why?” Nadia sounded amused, her hands moving slowly up Miriam’s back. “Why are you so eager to please me?”
A small moan escaped Miriam, and she struggled to piece together cohesive thoughts with Nadia’s fingers running up and down her spine. “I… I like seeing you happy.” When Nadia pulled back slightly, she searched her eyes, watching her reaction. “I want to make you happy… in ways Lucio can’t.”
Nadia laughed softly, bring one hand up to hold Miriam’s face. “That’s not too hard to do.” She moved forward, pressing a gentle kiss between Miriam’s eyebrows. “You already make me happy.”
Miriam felt her breath hitch in her throat, and she gripped Nadia’s shoulders as the other woman started to pull away. “Tell me what you want from me.”
“A kiss,” Nadia said, as plainly as if she had just asked for something to drink. If it weren’t for her hands still roaming Miriam’s body, she would think the Countess was joking.
Swallowing, Miriam slowly moved her hands to Nadia’s face, closing her eyes tightly as she brought their lips together in a sweet kiss. Nadia’s eyes were still open when she leaned back, and Miriam felt worry wash over her. “I-I’m sorry—”
Nadia closed the gap between them, almost dipping Miriam, who had to grab onto Nadia’s shoulders again to keep from falling back. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she moaned into Nadia’s mouth, letting her take the lead as much as possible. She gasped when Nadia’s teeth nicked her lip, digging her fingers in her long, dark violet hair, pulling it out of its own tight braid. When Nadia finally pulled away, they were both left out of breath, and Miriam couldn’t do anything but stare at the other woman in awe, watching the setting sun frame her head like a halo. Her hair was cascading down her back now, covering them both slightly.
“Oh, your hair,” Miriam whispered, and Nadia just smiled.
The question caused the magician to look up over the rim of her mug at Nadia. As was the new normal for them, they had taken their breakfast out on the balcony, enjoying each other’s company until their respective duties pulled them away. Or, to be more accurate, Nadia acted like a functioning human being, while Natalia struggled to form a sentence that Vesuvian people could understand, and drank gratuitous amounts of coffee.
“That quaistion cam fae na whaur,” Natalia replied, accent still thick from fatigue. Brows pinched together, she finished her coffee in single gulp and slapped her cheeks. “Why dae ye ask?”
Nadia ran a slender finger along the rim of her teacup and hummed, contemplative.
“I have been contemplating planting new flowers in the garden, now that the weather is warming.” Nadia replied crisply. “To give the palace grounds a splash of color that isn’t red or white.”
“Ah dae nae ken much about flowers,” Natalia admitted with a sheepish smile. She had a potted Venus fly trap, Hector, back at the shop, but it would probably snap at her fingers if she tried moving it from its window sill. Yellow pitcher plants were kind of pretty. How much would Nadia protest if Natalia asked to plant carnivorous plants in the garden? Natalia shook her head and nibbled on a biscuit smothered in strawberry jelly. “Marigolds,” she murmured after a long pause.
Nadia quirked a brow. “What was that?”
“Marigolds,” Natalia repeated, more clearly this time. She licked some residual jelly off her fingers and continued. “I’ve seen them in the market wance or twa times. Ah think they’re pretty. Especially th’ yellow ‘n’ orange ones.
Nadia brought a hand to her chin in thought and, after a few seconds of thought, nodded to herself.
“An interesting choice,” she mused to herself. “Are you aware that, in Prakra, marigolds are known as ‘herbs of the sun?’ They symbolize creativity, passion, positivity, and happiness. They also just happen to be a very important flower in wedding celebrations.” Nadia leveled a glance at Natalia, a smile curling the corners of her lips. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to further woo me.”
“Ah just picked it at random,” Natalia defended, pink dusting her cheeks. She drummed her fingers against the table and looked away. “Bit let’s pretend that wis mah goal. Did it wirk?”
“No.” The Countess said. Natalia recoiled, and Nadia reached over the table to clutch her fingers. “Simply because it is impossible to make me any more enamored with you than I am.”
Natalia’s entire face turned a very unflattering (in her opinion. Nadia probably thought it was adorable) shade of pink and put her forehead on top of their joined hands with a groan. “Ye shouldn’t hae this much power ower me,” she lamented.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Nadia replied. To an outside observer, it would have sounded as she normally did, neutral and composed. Natalia knew the other woman well enough, however, to recognize the teasing lilt to her voice. “But to get back to our original topic. I think marigolds would make a splendid addition to the garden. I shall make preparations to have some nursery shrubs delivered to the palace as soon as possible.”
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When Natalia returned to the shop that afternoon, basket full of dried herbs and other magical components, she was met by a delivery man surrounded by a lavish display of yellow marigolds in full bloom, their petals painted brilliant orange. The man gave Natalia an uneasy smile, one that said that he had been standing around awkwardly for Gods knew how long.
“Natalia Valeth?” He asked. Natalia nodded, fingers ghosting over the vibrant blossoms before her. The delivery man heaved a sigh of relief. “Countess Nadia sends this with her highest regards,” he said, waving a hand at the display. Reaching into his coat, he also produced an envelope with Natalia’s name written on the front in Nadia’s elegant, flowing script. It smelled faintly of jasmine. “She also made it clear that this was for your eyes only.” The delivery man continued, holding the letter like it was made out of glass.
“Sorry tae make ye wait.” Natalia said sympathetically, taking the letter from him. She might as well have lifted the weight of the world from his shoulders. She gave the poor man a few coins for his trouble, and he smiled at her graciously. With a curt nod of his head he was off, leaving Natalia with more flowers than she honestly knew what to do with. Still... She glanced this way and that before bringing a bundle of the marigolds her nose and breathing in deeply. Her heart skipped a beat, and her grin all but split her face as she opened the door to her shop and dragged the flowers inside.
(Hector the Venus fly trap wasn’t happy about the marigolds encroaching on its windowsill and tried to eat one. Something Natalia quickly put a stop to with the help of a spray of water and a juicy fly).
I was really struck by the word Devotion being linked with this color, and it just screamed Asra to me. This is my first time writing for Asra so I hope I do him justice!
Thank you to @vesuvianpride for putting this event together! I’m really enjoying reading the posts so far!
(There was a specific song I had in mind while writing, and it’s Already Mine by Us the Duo if you want to listen while you read)
Rain pattered softly against the windows of the shop, intermingling with the sounds of an old upright piano. Its bench creaked with every movement the musician made, but it was still steady and strong. Candles flickered from their places on the lid of the piano, casting dreamy shadows on the walls. The shop was closed, and the concert was for one person alone.
Asra sighed from his spot on the worn fabric couch—which was once a bright blue, now only a faded grey—watching his lover stroke the piano keys as gently as she would stroke his own body when they lay together. Sleep threatened to pull him away from the moment, but he fought it as best as he could. Faust was curled around his arm, already asleep, and he smiled down at her.
The soft voice floated over to him from the piano with a slight rasp from the day’s use. Asra felt his eyes flutter shut against his will, her crooning tone easing his mind.
As he began to slip away, a memory resurfaced.
He had just returned from an unusually long trip, and almost tripped over himself opening the shop door, worry causing his fingers to fumble the keys in the lock. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, I know I said it would be a quick trip but—” He set his things on the counter quickly, glancing around. The shop was empty. Panic rose to his chest, but he tried to calm himself, taking a deep breath. “Alec?”
No one answered. He hurriedly tried to reach out with his magic to feel for her, but a small noise from the back room caught his attention.
Humming. The light plinks of someone tapping on the piano keys. He stilled, straining to listen, heart beating fast in his chest. He had shown her the piano before he left, and she had touched it once but hadn’t seemed too interested. But she was playing it now. Really playing it. And he recognized the song.
Stepping lightly across the floor he pulled the curtain back slowly, peering into the back room.
Alec sat at the piano; legs crossed on the bench. Her hair was pulled out of her face, and he knew she had done it herself to see the sheet music she had in front of her. She played slowly, her hands still adjusting to the movements, and she was humming. No, he realized, tears springing to his eyes. She was singing.
Her voice was quiet, and it cracked from disuse, but it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard. She was singing a lullaby, and he remembered her telling him that her parents had sung it to her when she was a child. He hadn’t known she had the music for it—he thought it was something she just knew, which meant it was lost now—but he was never happier for the stack of papers she used to keep everywhere if it meant she would get those songs back.
The longer she sang, the tighter his chest felt. He was happy, he was, but he remembered a time when she would sing loud enough for people to hear her on the streets, charming everyone who passed by, including him. He hadn’t even heard her speak to him since he left, before she—
He sank to his knees, tears falling into his lap.
She heard him then, the bench groaning as she turned. Silently she stood and made her way to him, her eyes brighter than he had seen in a long time. She reached out to stroke his hair, and he leaned into her touch.
“Asra, home!” She said, haltingly, but with a wide, lopsided grin.
And just like that, the tightness in his chest disappeared. “Yeah.” He felt his bottom lip tremble and stood up to pull her into a hug. “Yeah, I’m home.”
“Are you sleeping, love?” Her voice brought him from his dream, and hazily he realized the shop was quiet, Alec sitting on the ground in front of him. The rain was still falling—heavier now—and Faust had left his arm to sit on the still-warm piano bench. Alec pushed his hair out of his face, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry I woke you, you looked so beautiful.” She smiled, that same crooked smile that had captured his heart.
It was his turn for speechlessness, and he cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She smiled, turning just slightly to press a kiss to his palm, looking at him through dark eyelashes.
“I love you,” she whispered, and his breath caught in his throat. Choking back a sob, he leaned forward to wrap his arms around her shoulders. She stiffened at first but pulled him the rest of the way off the couch, into her lap. “What’s wrong?” She stroked the back of his head, one arm wrapped around his waist.
He couldn’t answer, not yet, so he pulled back to press their foreheads together, trying to calm his breathing.
“My heart, I can feel your sadness,” she murmured, eyes glancing down at their chests. “Please talk to me.”
“I…” He sighed, running one hand through her long, dark hair, the other hovering by her jaw. “I never thought I’d get this back. Or you.”
She took a deep breath, moving forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You never lost me, not really.” The hand that had cradled his head took his hand instead, bringing his fingers to her lips. “I’m sorry you had to suffer alone for so long.” She kissed his fingertips, his knuckles, the palm of his hand. “I love you, Asra.”
“I love you too,” he said, as reverently as a prayer. “I love you so much.”
Alec kissed him, slowly, gently, as if she was afraid of breaking him. He could handle being broken, and he pushed back, causing her to land on the floor. She laughed, but he swallowed the sound in his lips, pinning her arms to the ground above her head. When he pulled away, her face was flushed, and she was watching him with hazy eyes. A small moan escaped her as he sat back, taking stock of his position over her, legs straddling her hips.
“As…” she breathed, shifting against his grip slightly, “please touch me.”
Wanted to share some more Asra love before his big day!
This is also another contribution to Week 2 of @vesuvianpride, with this trope being Childhood Friends and Asra and Alec’s first meeting!
This takes place when Asra is about 11-13 (ish?) and Alec is like 12-14 (I’m still trying to figure out my exact timeline but oh well)
1.4k words, rest under the cut!
***
Many years before the plague, Alec had been a mysterious figure in Asra’s life. She came to Vesuvia only a few times each year, beginning when he was still a teenager living by the docks. She lived a life he envied; she was able to travel with ease and had a friendly group of musicians surrounding her as family. And it seemed like almost everyone knew her name.
When her group wandered into Vesuvia, either for a festival or the Masquerade—as they always seemed to have an invitation—the entire city knew of their arrival before the sun set the same day. Jamil, the lead of the group, was the most well-known, and he had been coming to Vesuvia for longer than Asra had been alive. Some people speculated that he had a royal, or at least influential, background, due to the group’s popularity. But, to Asra, and a large number of Vesuvians, Alec was by far the most interesting.
The first few times she came to Vesuvia, the group would hide her away, a shy girl from the far north. She only showed her face when she performed, but the first time that veil was lifted and her voice rang across the Town Square, no one was able to forget it for weeks after. Least of all Asra, who watched their caravan leave towards Nopal until it was no more than a speck in the distance.
When they sailed in from the sea a year later, Alec had blossomed. She laughed loudly and smiled often, leaving a trail of wanting hearts in her wake. The musicians planned to be in Vesuvia for almost a week, which had the city buzzing in excitement. They stayed in a shop in the Center City that normally sat empty, which was apparently owned by one of them. Asra would scramble over boxes in the alleyway behind the shop to press his face to the back window in hopes of catching a glance of Alec while the musicians entertained guests for hours.
One night, while he was watching in the shadows, the second-floor window opened. Alec climbed out and swung herself up to the roof, glancing over her shoulder back at the shop. When it seemed that she had slipped away unnoticed, a wide grin broke across her face and she immediately took a running leap off the roof to the next building. Her bare feet slid a little on the tile, and Asra felt his heart leap to his throat, but then she righted herself and with a deep breath, ran to the next roof.
Asra followed underneath as she ran, transfixed by her actions. She had never left the other musicians’ sides before, and he was curious to see where, exactly, she was going.
She kept running out of the Center City and stayed to the rooftops as much as possible. Finally, there was a gap in front of her, much too large to jump. Asra watched with bated breath as she gauged the distance—and jumped anyway.
Asra almost called out to her in alarm, his hands reaching out into the night, but then he felt magic surge in the air around him, lifting her up and across the gap. She landed on the next roof a bit roughly, but only dusted herself off and kept moving. Now that he knew she was using magic, Asra could feel it thrumming in the air around her, sparkling in the moonlight. It caught her when she slipped and lifted her up if her jump was a bit too short. Her arms were stretched out to either side, and her magic wove through her fingers like silk threads.
Finally, they reached the East Docks, and Alec lowered herself gently to the ground, walking the rest of the distance towards the gulf. When she had reached the edge of the dock, she turned around, looking towards where Asra was hiding.
“You can come out, if you want,” she said, tucking a strand of short, dark hair behind her ear. “I know you were following me.”
Asra jumped, his face flushing, but he stepped out onto the dock, walking slowly towards her.
She gave him a small smile when he got within an arm’s reach. “My name’s Alec. What’s yours?”
“Asra,” he said, feeling his heart hammer in his chest.
“That’s a nice name.” She sat down on the dock, legs dangling over the water, and gestured for him to join her. “Have you lived here long, Asra?”
He nodded, sitting down next to her. “My whole life.”
“Really?” She looked out over the water, kicking her feet absentmindedly. Asra watched as the water stirred under her. Though she wasn’t touching it, it was still moving with her. “I wonder what it’s like to live in one place your whole life. Is it nice?”
Asra frowned, thinking about his parents’ absence. “It’s okay. What’s it like, traveling all the time?”
Alec shrugged, echoing him. “It’s okay.”
They fell into silence, an uncomfortable air settling over their shoulders. She was the first to break it, putting her hand over his lightly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Her lips curved into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s great, really. Everyone… well, mostly everyone is really nice. Sometimes I just wish I had a place to call home.”
He didn’t answer, mesmerized by her touch. He had watched her hands as she performed, had watched them holding instruments and other people’s hands, but never thought they would be touching him.
Catching his spell-bound look, she giggled, reaching out to ruffle his hair.
“H-hey!” A blush spread across his face, and he leaned back, pouting slightly.
She stood up, holding her hand out to him. “You have magic too, right? I can feel it.” As she spoke, her aura grew stronger, the threads of her magic weaving between her fingers again.
“Yeah.” He took her hand, standing up with a smile. He could feel their magic intertwining, melding together the longer they were connected. With a cheeky grin, he pulled a flower from behind her ear, handing it to her.
She blushed slightly, taking the flower from him to tuck it into her hair. She laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand gently. “Does anyone ever give you trouble for using magic?”
He tilted his head, thinking. “No, and even if they did, I could handle them!” His heart fluttered as she laughed, and he took her other hand in his. “Do you get in trouble?”
“Not… in trouble. But I think a lot of people think it’s weird.” She glanced down at her feet, and he could hear water bubbling beneath them. “Even though they like the magic I use when I sing.”
“You use magic when you sing?”
She nodded, looking embarrassed. “I can use my magic to help make people feel things, through song. Like making people feel happy, or sad. Jamil says that’s just what music does, but I know it’s different when I do it.”
“Can you show me?”
Alec hesitated, but then she squeezed his hands and closed her eyes. Softly, she began to sing a song in a language he didn’t recognize, but felt his heart lift the longer she continued. She stopped, and changed to a different song, and he felt his mood drop, tears pricking at his eyes. Her eyes fluttered open, and when she saw the wetness on his cheeks, gasped.
She let go of his hands to wipe his cheeks with her thumbs, eyes wide with worry. “Oh, I’m sorry, Asra. I wasn’t—I didn’t want to make you cry.”
Once she had let go of his hands, her magic faded away, and Asra was back to normal. He held her wrists and smiled. “It’s okay, Alec. That was pretty cool.”
She sighed, shoulders relaxing. “It is, isn’t it?” She mirrored his smile, and suddenly leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. Asra’s breath caught in his chest, and the stars in the sky seemed to grow brighter. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft.
“Wh-what for?” he managed, his hands falling to his sides as she pulled away.
“For sitting with me and listening. Not a lot of people do that.” She looked sad, glancing out over the water again.
He was going to try and comfort her when she turned back to him, giving him a lopsided smile.
“I’d better get going—Jamil’s probably worried. But it was really nice meeting you, Asra. I hope we see each other again.”
He nodded, watching as she took off down the docks. When she reached the edge, she looked at him and waved, before leaping into the air, magic carrying her over the roof. He waved back, a grin spreading across his face as she disappeared.
Part of my One-Shot series using the album Foxlore by The Crane Wives as inspiration! Main list: here
This was also heavily inspired by @vesuvianpride prompts for Red and I’m glad I could combine these two because this song is literally my favorite from this album and I’ve been trying to figure out what to write for it for a minute.
This story is post-game, MC (Alec) x Julian.
1.4k words
Under the cut!
Weaving around the set of the theater, Julian led Alec with broad steps, the two of them parrying witty dialogue with ease. Their banter melted into song, and their voices carried high through the air as they danced across the stage. She felt his hands tighten around her waist, and with a wink, he dipped her gracefully, as if they had practiced it hundreds of times before. Her grin widened as he pulled her back up, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek as their number came to an end and they bowed deeply to the audience.
Suddenly, the lights of the theater became brighter, and they made Alec’s eyes water the longer she stared at them. She thought she could hear people whispering in the audience, and she tried to shield her eyes from the lights as she peered out past the stage.
A voice called out over the murmuring of the crowd, a strangely familiar tone that sent a shiver down her spine. “Who are you?”
What?
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Feeling her body start to shake, she clapped her hands over her mouth. Turning around, she tried to reach out for Julian, but he was gone. Panicked, she whirled back to the lights, and gasped when she saw that their blaze had been replaced with tongues of fire.
“Who are you?” The voice repeated, thundering around her.
A figure appeared in the flames, walking slowly towards Alec. The light behind them was too bright for her to focus on their face, but the voice continued.
“Who do you think you are?”
She tried to answer, but her voice wouldn’t work. Panic bubbled in her gut, reminding her of her early frustrations she would have with Asra when she didn’t know how to express herself. She needed to speak, to cry out, anything.
The figure came closer and closer until they were close enough to reach out and grab her arm. Their grip white-hot; pain shot through her, and she felt tears drop from her eyes. The figure laughed, holding her face tight in their other hand.
“Look at you. There’s nothing left of me anymore. You’re just an empty shell.”
Forced to focus on their face, Alec realized who it was with a start.
Her own face stared back, lips curled into a sneer, eyes red from the plague. The grip on her wrist tightened even more, and her chest felt like it would burst. “You are nothing but a shadow. A faux soul shoved into a stolen body. Asra knows that, Julian knows that, why don’t you?”
Alec’s heart throbbed, her head spinning. That’s not true, she tried to say. They don’t think that.
“Don’t they?” Alec’s mirrored self let go of her, shoving her backwards.
Voices rose all around her, moans and shrieks causing the fire to lash out at her. She tried to turn and run but was pulled to the ground—the worn wood planks of the theater replaced with cold dirt and ash—by dark, heavy chains. The chains tightened around her legs and waist, slowly creeping up her body like snakes. Panting, she tried to scream, but no sound would come out of her throat. Tears continued to fall, sizzling on the ground where they landed.
She tried to call out again, tried to force her mouth to form Julian’s name. The figure that resembled her shifted and warped in the flames, and a new face appeared. It was his, but it wasn’t at the same time.
Instinctively, she shifted away, feeling the chains tug her back, holding her in place. A disgusted look drew across his face, and Julian melted away, replaced by the Devil. He reached out towards her, ebony claws, glinting in the fire. She struggled to get away, but the chains dug into her skin, branding her where they fell.
He was going to take her away, she knew it, and she couldn’t do anything, not by herself. Not when she wasn’t even sure who she was.
“Alec,” the Devil said, and she shuddered, hearing Julian’s voice. “Darling, please,” his voice persisted, and she realized that it was Julian speaking.
With a shock, she woke up, upright in bed, breath coming in short gasps.
She felt a hand on her bare back and jumped, turning to lock eyes with Julian. “There you are,” he said, searching her face worriedly. He tucked her hair behind her ears and cupped her face in his hands. “What’s wrong?”
She sighed, blinking tears away. “I—” She tried to find the words to explain the terror that was still coursing through her veins, but once she realized she could speak again, she felt herself falling back into the nightmare. Fresh tears fell from her face onto Julian’s hands.
His face contorted when he saw her lip tremble, his own eyes watering. “Oh, star, please don’t cry.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, one hand resting on the small of her back while the other stroked her cheek. “You scared me. You were making these noises, and—” He stopped himself, blushing slightly. “Well, I wasn’t sure what kind of noises they were at first, but then I saw the look on your face.”
Alec gave him a small smile, but her mouth still wobbled. He pressed his thumb to her lip lightly and kissed the corner of her mouth.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, his voice low.
She paused, unsure. What could she say?
Taking her silence as a sign to move on, Julian smiled, his slender fingers massaging her back. “You don’t have to, of course. Why don’t we just try to lay back down?”
Alec shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. She had felt hot in her dream, and could still feel sweat on her forehead, but the cool air of the room on her bare skin made her shiver. “Julian, I—” She cut herself off, her throat closing as she tried to find the words to say.
“Take your time, darling.” He pulled their blanket over her shoulders, and sat back, holding her hands in his as he waited for her to continue.
“I… You…” She bit her lip, looking down. “How different am I from her?”
“From who?”
“From… myself. The person I was before I died.” She squeezed his hands, nervously rubbing along his fingers with her thumbs. “How much of me is still missing?”
Julian was silent for a moment, but Alec couldn’t bring herself to look up at him. He sighed, leaning forward to press their heads together. “It’s not that you’re missing things that should be there, it’s more that they don’t fit with you anymore. You are different, you have experienced different things, but you are still you at the core.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“Well, you still have your skills, your magic, your talent for charming even a hopeless wretch like me with no more than a word.” He laughed softly, his breath shifting some strands of hair that hung in front of Alec’s face. “The way you help people is the same; your selflessness astounds me. It always has.” He let go of one of her hands to caress her cheek, their noses touching. “On a physical level, you’re just as beautiful, if not more so.”
She giggled, a stray tear landing in her lap.
“Your hands are still musician’s hands, slender and strong.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “You’re still ticklish,” he grinned, putting a hand on her side, thumb tracing her ribs, “here.”
Alec blushed, but didn’t move from his grip.
“You’re still you.” Julian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her fully into his lap. “I don’t understand everything you’re feeling, and I can’t convince you to stop thinking badly of yourself. I know how hard that is. But would you let me try?”
She nodded, tilting her head to bury her face in his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said with a sigh, resting her hands on his back.
He started humming a familiar tune, rocking her slowly. She shifted against his chest to press her face into his neck, feeling his voice vibrate against her skin. He laid them both down on the bed gently, keeping her on his chest as he pulled the blanket over their bodies. She pressed a kiss to his jaw, smiling when she felt him melt under her touch.
“I love you, Julian.”
“I love you too, starlet.”
Doubts still poked at the back of her mind, as they always did. But she was eased by the feeling of warm arms around her instead of chains, and the way their bodies fit together like they were meant to be. Like she was the way she was supposed to be.
Natalia groaned pathetically into her pillow as she lay in her bed below deck. Nadia had, of course, spared no expense in booking them passage across the ocean, and she would absolutely not stand for her betrothed suffering the journey on a small, cramped cot with a thin mattress. Alas, not even the comforts of a feather mattress made Natalia feel much better. They were sailing south through the Malvent Strait, to Venterre. Natalia’s homeland, if Asra’s recollection and her own faint memories were to be believed.
The Magician had poured over as many books about Venterran history as she could get her hands on. Everything had been all but burned into her retinas at this point. The agriculture, the architecture, the language, the long and bloody wars for independence... none of it sparked anything significant. Natalia had hoped that maybe, just maybe, reading about her own culture would make her feel something more personal than: “Oh, well that’s interesting.” Patriotism, homesickness, anything.
Even more than that... she and Nadia were going to meet Natalia’s parents. They were alive and well, after all. No reason why she shouldn’t go see them. But there was still so much of Natalia’s past that she didn’t know. What if her parents were cruel or neglectful, and that was why she had left the country to train with Asra? What if they didn’t approve of the fact their daughter was getting married to a woman, Countess or not? ...Did they even see Natalia as their daughter anymore? When was the last time she had even spoken to them? Did Asra ever tell them...
A wave slammed into the hull of the ship. While in reality it had only been a nudge, to Natalia it felt like the world had been knocked off its axis, and then, before she could blink, it was then snapped back into its proper kilter with dizzying speed. She bit down on her bottom lip to muffle a groan and pressed her face even harder into the pillow.
After what felt like an eternity of wallowing in her anxiety-and-seasickness induced misery, the door to her and Nadia’s shared stateroom opened. A few painfully long seconds later, the bed sunk under Nadia’s weight, and her perfectly manicured fingers began to card soothingly through Natalia’s hair.
“If you had told me you got so easily seasick, I would have packed ingredients for a remedy.” Nadia tutted, although not unkindly.
“Ah didn’t ken,” Natalia returned with a strained, muffled voice. “I’ve ne’er bin oan th’ ocean afore.” She lifted her face from the pillow and put her head on Nadia’s thigh. After a moment of reflection, she added in a softer voice, “Nae that Ah kin remember, anyway.”
Nadia hummed and continued her gentle caresses of her lover’s scalp. The ship creaked, and then Nadia spoke again. “So, when are you going to tell me what is really ailing you?” Natalia blinked up at her and opened her mouth to protest, which Nadia swiftly cut off by raising a hand. “Do not try to tell me it is simply seasickness. I have seen you when you are under emotional duress; you’re terrible at hiding it.” Her voice lowered, becoming gentle. “You did not have to hide it from me during your Trial, and you do not have to hide it from me now.”
Feeling exposed and ashamed, Natalia started picking at a loose thread on the silk pillow case. “You’re gonnae think it’s silly.” She said.
“Humor me, then.”
“...Fine. I’m worried aboot meetin’ mah parents. Terrified, really.”
Nadia’s eyes widened and her brows shot up to her hairline. “Why on earth would you be terrified of your parents?” She questioned. Suddenly, her expression darkened. “Do you have memories of them mistreating you? Because if so-”
“No!” Natalia interrupted firmly. “At least, Ah don’t think thay did. It doesn’t feel lik’ thay did...” she trailed off, brow pinched and lips pursed. She closed her eyes and tried to picture what her mother and father might have looked like. All she got were hazy, dark figures, like someone had spilled ink in water, and a headache throbbing against her temples. “Does that mak’ sense?” She added once the pain had subsided enough.
“Alright,” Nadia said, anger fading from her eyes. “If not childhood abuse, then what?”
“Ah just... whit dae Ah say tae them? ‘Och, awright, it’s me! Yer daughter ye haven’t heard fae in at least three years. Sorry aboot that. Ah wis dead, ‘n’ then brought back fae th’ dead thanks tae magic! Also, Ah fought th’ De’il ‘n’ git engaged!” She finished her tirade with a groan and dragged her hands down her face. “They’re going tae think I’m crazy.” She lamented.
“I think you are worrying too much about a meeting you haven’t even had yet.” Nadia said calmly, fingers twisting in Natalia’s hair. “If there is anyone who knows the feeling, it is I. You remember how much I loathed the idea of any of my sisters coming to see me.”
“’N’ then it turned oot perfectly fine.” Natalia said smiling, even as Nadia pinched her cheek.
“Yes, yes. As I recall, you wasted no time in saying ‘I told you so’ when it turned out Nasmira’s visit was not as cataclysmic as I thought it would be. But I digress. I have a feeling the reunion with your parents will not be as terrible as your mind is telling you it will be. But that is a bridge we will cross when we come to it. Together.”
The tender moment was ruined when another wave chose that moment to rock the ship. Nadia’s hands gripped onto Natalia’s shoulders to keep her from rolling off her thigh. Natalia slapped a hand over her mouth with a gag, face going pale. “And after we get onto solid ground.” Nadia said. Swiftly, she pulled Natalia off the bed and up onto the main deck before she could get sick all over the good linens.
Natalia didn’t much care for red.
Even before she had been commissioned to look into Lucio’s murder, when she was coasting through life as a magician’s apprentice, the bold color made her stomach turn. Knowing what she did now, it probably shouldn’t have surprised her. The plague beetles were red. Had they not been the harbingers of countless deaths (including her own), Natalia probably would have found them beautiful. Their carapace shimmering deep crimson no matter how dark their surroundings, like someone had magically breathed life into insects carved from rubies.
When Nadia first set foot in Natalia’s shop, the sharp crimson red of her eyes had dazzled, rather than repulsed. The shades of red in her hair, glowing like fire in the lantern light, had captivated her instead of causing her to recoil.
(It definitely wasn’t because Natalia was convinced an actual goddess had graced her shop. Definitely not. She wasn’t that hopeless.)
That wasn’t to say that Natalia’s distaste for red had simply vanished just because Nadia’s eyes put even the most extravagant and perfectly cut ruby to shame. The Devil’s chains had glowed bright, burning red, like they had been left in a forge for too long. They had felt molten to the touch, and at first Natalia feared that molten steel would melt into her hands if she held them for too long. The Devil’s realm pulsed crimson. Hot and suffocating, like she had been breathing in smoke and fire.
Natalia’s nightmares were drenched in red. Red of the plague. Red of blood. Red of chains burning into her skin, eternally tying her to a Devil that wore Nadia’s face and spoke in her voice.
But when she awoke, she always found Nadia staring at her consolingly, carding her hands gently through her hair and kissing the tears from her cheeks. How was it that red could be a source of sorrow and love all at once? It seemed contradictory, and Asra certainly didn’t help things.
“Such is the power of being in love,” he had explained flippantly. “It is one of the most wonderfully conflicting feelings humans are capable of having.”
Natalia had been tempted to ask if she... they had been entrenched so deeply in love’s foolish ways before her death, but quickly bit her tongue. Whatever romantic feelings she might have had for Asra had crumbled to ash along with her original body, and she hated the pained look in his eye whenever she tried sifting through it.
(Somewhere deep in her heart, she felt it too. A throb of pain dulled by death, rebirth, and time, for a love that was never meant to last.)
----------------------
Years ago, Natalia wouldn’t have even given fire opals a second glance. They weren’t even good conduits for magic; what good were they to an apprentice magician? But the gem seemed to call out to her as she tore through the market like a woman possessed, searching high and low for the perfect ring to give Nadia. Diamonds were too common (and expensive). Lucio had given Nadia a ruby ring, and it was the single most gaudy thing either woman had ever seen; a complete disservice to rubies everywhere. So that was a ‘no’ with a capitol ‘hell no’ just for good measure. given but the opal... it shimmered with gold and orange and red in the sunlight, flickering like a living flame that had been crystalized. Natalia had probably paid the vendor too much for it, but there was no other gem that so perfectly encapsulated who Nadia was. Fiery and passionate. Radiant and powerful. Resplendent, no matter how you looked at her. So, in the end, the shopkeeper got a hefty sack of coin and an un-punched face, and Natalia got the perfect gemstone and avoided a night in the dungeon for assault. Everybody won.
Natalia didn’t have the coffers of royalty, nor could she summon the finest jewelers with a snap of her fingers. But she was a woman on a mission who knew people who owed her a favor or two. When the completed ring had been presented to Nadia, set in a band rose gold embellished with flowers delicately engraved into the metal, the Countess h
