Work Text:
It had to be a fucking joke, Lisa thought. All those losses she suffered, all the love she only barely got to feel. The way new love bloomed in her stomach, in her throat, in her veins whenever she saw those soft blue eyes. The way it shattered every time those very eyes closed for good.
Some kind of karmic retribution, maybe.
Lisa had made her weekly trip into the town, stopping by the market for produce and goods, by the post office to send off some letters, by the general store for some poster paper because Razor had mentioned a project coming up and she was certain he wasn’t going to have anything like that. She went to the flower shop and picked up a bouquet to make the dining room a little more inviting.
And then she went home to her little house on the edge of the town where she lived mostly in reclusion, save for the few kids that visited her (because they had less than ideal homes themselves).
She learned a new little tidbit of town gossip, though, and it had her a bit curious.
And you must understand that this was her first mistake. Listening to any town gossip.
The house, the large three-story Victorian house that was situated in the middle of Old Main Street, just down the block from the library, had been purchased by a woman.
It was an expensive home for the town, and one that had been standing for centuries.
And of course, one Lisa was intimately familiar with, having grown up within it.
When it was a group home once upon a time, and where Lisa was raised along with other foster kids by a loving couple who grew too old to continue fostering children. It had sat vacant and abandoned for years, well after Lisa had grown and left for a life of her own and though Lisa would have loved to purchase it… it was a bit outside of her price range.
She didn’t really like being so in the center of town either.
But it was still rather melancholy to learn that it would be gone soon. Because what was a single person going to do with a house that size? With four bedrooms, two and half baths, the wrap-around porch, the beautiful gables. Surely they were going to turn it into small studio apartments and rent it out piece-meal and Lisa’s former bedroom, Lisa’s childhood home, would instead house recently graduated university students.
Or something like that.
Now the gossip had been about that, of course. About how that house being flipped and turned into apartments would drive up property values and taxes and bring yuppies to their small, quaint town. Lisa didn’t care so much about that, it was the sentimental value of the house.
And because it was the sentimental value of it all, and because everyone was saying it’ll be apartments soon, she walked by her old home one early afternoon.
Which was her second and far more egregious mistake. She couldn’t even blame this on anyone else.
Lisa had stopped by the library and checked out a book that she’d had an eye on for a while, and then walked down the street lined with medium-sized trees and their glowing orange leaves. The house had a wrought-iron fence surrounding the property and a perpetually-open gate at the end of the driveway.
Bright green grass all the way up to the front door and Lisa could spy the empty garden beds that her foster mother had always lovingly attended to in her youth.
It was a beautiful home, a faint blue to the vinyl siding and dark shingles that had been weathered over the years covering the roof. Lisa’s old room, on one side of the house, had a beautiful bay window that she had spent mornings and nights reading in.
She had the most wonderful memories in that home, and though her childhood had been difficult and she did not enjoy many of the same joys most kids did, it was a home full of love and friendship. She even kept in touch with Cyno still.
It would be sad to see a staple of the town so changed.
“Can I help you?”
Lisa had an instant where she felt the urge to turn away and flee. She should have listened to that instinct, she was a… witch after all. (Though hardly any knew.) But she turned to the voice, the kind and friendly voice that had come up behind her, and she faced a smiling blonde with blue eyes that quite literally pierced into Lisa’s soul.
She swore she knew that blonde woman with the startlingly clear blue eyes.
Lisa stumbled and her book fell from her hand and the blonde that she knew looked on in alarm, her hand reaching out as if trying to catch her.
“I’m fine, I apologize.” Lisa stammered and stooped low to pick up her book and edge away from this woman. Jean. She remembered that instantly. She left quickly, fleeing like a fool, but that was alright. She had no intention of coming back.
It came to her in waves, really. Over the next few days she remembered her previous lives, their previous lives.
One
Lisa was a monster. There was no other way to put it. She was punished for something and she wasn’t quite sure what but the gods had a sick humor and they took their pleasures in playing around with mortals like Lisa.
She turned any who perceived her to stone.
She was a monster with snakes for hair and eyes that felt like stone in her own skull, and she watched every single kind (or not-so-kind) soul that stumbled across her turn to a stiff and lifeless statue because of her.
So she was a monster. She hated herself. The gods had accomplished what they likely set out to do whether they realized it or not. They ruined a life, a near-brilliant life that Lisa never got to lead. They ruined the lives of any who crossed Lisa’s path.
It was so unfortunate that a beautiful soldier crossed her path, then.
Dressed in her deep blue tunic that fell to her knees, strips of plate armor lashed together into a heavy chest piece that rattled with every step, golden hair tied up and away from her face. She carried a spear, she carried her helmet though she left it on the ground when she entered the clearing.
The clearing that had become Lisa’s hunting grounds. Not on purpose, of course. It was just where most of her visitors happened to succumb. It looked so sinister, a clearing in the forest that was simply filled with statues. Beautifully perfect statues that held nothing within them. Lisa hoped they held nothing, anyway.
She hoped their souls traveled the river and danced on the other side, like she may never do.
It was Lisa’s home, her little island off the coast of the mainland. She didn’t know why people kept arriving there, she didn’t know what they wanted. They wanted to see her. Kill her, maybe.
This soldier, with her spear and her beautiful hair, walked slow and steady, sandaled footsteps crunching over gravel and dirt as she passed through the statues like a wind. Silent and flowing. Lisa heard her. Lisa did not look, though. She thought that perhaps, this soldier could win. And Lisa would no longer be a monster.
“I can see you.” It wasn’t mean, challenging or accusatory. It was a soft voice.
Lisa did not look.
“I know you’re there, and I don’t think you’re trying to hide.” She sounded so sweet and patient and Lisa longed to see more of her. A curiosity that could not be sated.
“There’s rumors of someone living here on this island all alone. I thought that… perhaps you want to be alone.” The soldier spoke as if they were having a cordial conversation. Lisa swallowed and kept her eyes squeezed shut. “That’s okay, but if you’ve never left your home here, you might not have things to enjoy. I brought some books.” A thud. Lisa did not look. Something hit the ground and rustled. “I brought a few of my favorites, and a notepad. You can have them.”
Silence then, for a time and Lisa was tempted but still, she did not look.
“I’ll go.” She almost laughed and Lisa quite liked the sound.
She heard the footsteps, the crunching of the gravel, how they got further from her.
“You can look now.”
As if she knew the entire time.
And Lisa looked, she opened her eyes and glanced across the clearing and gasped because gorgeous blue eyes were watching her, hand outstretched, and it was far too late because their eyes met and this soldier, this kind and patient and wondrous soldier, she was frozen in her place. Stone crawled up her legs, encased her, one hand out and the other holding her spear at her side.
And Lisa’s island gained another statue.
Lisa thought this was the start because she saw those gorgeous blue eyes just the once, for the first time ever, and she felt very little beyond regret. And so, she thought, that was the joke. Here, the gods said, may you feel far too much forever more.
It happened too frequently… Lisa knew what happened. She knew she had killed the soldier. She was no longer there. And she hurt for it, but she did not know this woman other than that she had been kind.
Lisa stood from her perch within the trees, from the rock she had claimed as her throne, and she crossed the little clearing and stopped at the bag of things this kind soldier had brought her. Books. She liked books, she was fairly certain, though it had been so long since she’d read one.
Lisa left the bag for a moment and went to the soldier. Her eyes were open, Lisa knew they were a beautiful blue and she felt a sorrow for such a hue being lost to the world now. Lisa placed her hand over the soldier’s cold stone cheek, held her softly, she kissed those lifeless lips that were barely parted with halted words.
“Thank you for the gifts.” Lisa whispered.
And she spent her weeks reading those books, writing thoughts down on that paper. She read to her new statue, to her beautiful soldier. She read aloud and she sat with her and she enjoyed the books.
Some of my favorite books, she had said. And Lisa read them and decided they were her favorites too. All of them.
And in doing so, in enjoying those books, those gifts, the beautiful words that were given to her by someone far too kind, she found that the regret she had felt was transforming into something far more painful.
Regret at taking yet another life, a beautiful life with, no doubt, so much ahead of her, it blossomed into agony. Into sorrow. Into love.
Lisa read to this soldier who was kind to her for no reason, this soldier with beautiful hair that no longer glittered beneath the sun, this soldier with eyes that should not be stone.
Lisa read to her and learned about her through the words and she decided, this was love.
It was terrible.
When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she wailed in her agony and her heartbreak because no one had ever been so kind to her before. No one had ever simply brought her things before.
She cried and cursed the gods and when even that was not enough, she looked upon her soldier with the eyes that should have been blue, she knelt before her and the spear forever held in frozen hands, and she threw herself upon that spear.
And Lisa, the monster with eyes that held nothing but death, let herself die upon her soldier's spear. A life for a life, though hers meant little.
So maybe that was it. A gods trick, a foolish moment of weakness from Lisa, and they were entangled to be one another’s heartbreak for the rest of time.
Two
A simple walk through the city market should not have been so disastrous, but it was. It was because she passed a guard, one that knew everyone, one that smiled and waved and chatted with merchants and buyers alike, and they locked eyes for a moment.
Blue eyes filled with happiness and mirth. Her simple steel sword was sheathed, her shield stored on her back, her uniform that of a royal guard to the Emperor. And Lisa nearly bumped into her, she mumbled her apologies and tried to step away and the guard steadied her with a hand on her elbow. For Lisa, it was seeing those blue eyes.
For her soldier, her guard, her past love, it was nothing. She didn’t even know Lisa.
“Are you alright? I apologize, I was in your way.” Gods how was her voice the exact same?
“I’m quite fine, thank you.” Lisa tried to push away, tried to back away from her but she followed for just a moment.
“You look unsteady, would you please sit for a moment?” The blue eyes were filled with concern and kindness and it was too overwhelming for Lisa and she shook her head and shook that hand off of her shoulder and pushed through the crowds of the street and she didn’t look back.
As if she was that forgotten monster once more and looking would kill her soldier all over again.
Lisa went back to her small temple south of the city, the one that overlooked the lake. She was the only priestess there, abandoned and small as the temple was. Atop a hill, the candles flickering within, it was her home.
A lonely home again.
It was that way for weeks, it was normal. It was always lonely, it was always quiet. It was a temple to a god that did little for the people and so they did little prayer in return. Lisa did, it was her job. Her lot in life. She pruned the flowers and placed them at the altar and mumbled her prayers and thank yous and that was her life.
Until she looked out across the lake one evening, late, dark, there was someone swimming across the lake like an absolute idiot.
Lisa had thought it was nothing, but apparently for her soldier, placing a hand on her elbow had meant something.
It had meant enough for her to hound down every single person she could think of to find out who is that priestess?
And thus, she swam across the lake one evening with nothing to guide her but the candles that flickered on the altar, the glow of their flames lighting the windows high in the temple and drawing her in.
Lisa greeted that soaking wet soldier, her golden hair limp around her shoulders, and she offered a blanket and little words.
“I asked after you.” She had said, her eyes bright and her voice excited, “and learned that you are the Priestess of the southern temple, so I have come to pay my respects.”
She was breathing heavily from the long swim through the water, no longer dressed in her guard’s uniform but simple tunic and pants.
Lisa simply nodded and led her back to the temple and waved her hand toward the altar.
“May I know your name?” She had asked and Lisa wanted to say no, but the eagerness painted in those eyes and across those lips was so intoxicating.
“Lisa.” She murmured back.
“My name is Jean. It is nice to meet you, Lisa.” She smiled brilliantly and entered the temple to kneel at the altar and mumble words that Lisa did not hear.
When Jean left, Lisa had asked her, “Why did you swim?”
Jean looked sheepish and embarrassed. “I was afraid to take my eyes away from the flicker of lights, for fear that you would not be there anymore.”
Jean swam back across the lake that night, following the moon to shore, and Lisa watched her go and she felt far too much.
Jean came back every week, she swam and exhausted herself and crawled to shore and Lisa greeted her with a blanket and more and more words every time she showed up.
Lisa liked seeing Jean, she liked seeing her so much that she forgot what happened the last time she saw Jean.
It was storming horrendously, the lake was choppy with wind, the sky was a claustrophobic gray and the moon had been blotted out by thick and angry clouds. Lisa’s candles kept blowing out as the temple creaked with the gale.
It was a night Jean would normally see her, but not this time, Lisa thought. Not in this weather.
That would have been the smart thing to do, but Jean did not always think when it came to Lisa.
She knew, because she was watching out over the stormy water as lightning lit up the sky, and she saw the bright blonde hair that bobbed within the water, struggling with the waves. Lisa’s candles had blown out again.
She hurried to light them, to give Jean her beacon, to see her safely across the treacherous waters, and they kept blowing out and Lisa was frantic and hurrying. She lit a torch and ran to the water's edge, to the shore of the lake and she prayed that her torch would stay aflame.
She saw Jean with another flash of lightning, closer now, she knew where to go, and Lisa prayed and prayed to the god whose altar she knelt to every morning and night.
And the storm grew worse, rain sleeted down like a heavy blanket, Lisa could hardly see, her torch flickered and grew damp and went out entirely and Lisa screamed as thunder drowned her out.
She waded into the water and thrashed around until she found Jean, bobbing on the choppy water, face down and limp.
Lisa dragged her from the water as agony filled her soul once again, a familiar aching in her heart that she so hated. Oh, a familiar aching that she had wished was a distant past.
She pulled Jean ashore and rain lashed at them and she kissed Jean’s lifeless lips and tried to fill her lungs with air and it was all too late.
Lisa had wondered after that, if all the gods were good for was letting you down. She had served a life of sacrifice to her god and look at how she had been repaid.
Three
Mondstadt was beautiful and Lisa was thrilled to be back. So many years away in a land that had worn her down, and she returned with a heaviness in her, but new hope, too. Lisa was ready for a new start and she had looked forward to all that would come, until she met that foolish Knight Captain.
“Captain Jean Gunnhildr, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jean had nodded cordially, blue eyes gleaming across the room at Lisa as she had stepped in to meet Grand Master Varka.
“Lisa Minci, pleasure.” Lisa murmured to be as polite as possible.
You know this story, of course.
Varka left not too long after that on an expedition, taking most of the Knights with him.
Leaving Jean Gunnhildr, former Captain, now the Acting Grand Master.
They grew close slowly this time. It was clear that there was a pull between them, Lisa couldn’t resist it, Jean had no reason to try. They became anchors for each other. Jean the balm to Lisa’s past lives, and Lisa the only glimmer of calm in Jean’s suddenly chaotic days. They were a respite that the other was so desperate for.
The days they spent together, the nights they spent talking, the tea breaks they enjoyed with each other. It was beautiful and cultivating in a way they had never had the chance to explore before.
Lisa knew she shouldn’t have allowed any of that. She should have pushed Jean away, remained a recluse as best she could. But it was embarrassing how much she wanted to be with Jean.
And it was embarrassing that she left because… Jean was too busy for her.
She couldn’t even walk away with the knowledge that Jean was destined to die for her.
She walked away because Jean was destined to die for Mondstadt.
“Jean, I’m leaving.” Lisa had said, solemn voice as she tidied the library on a drizzling afternoon.
“For the day? It’s a bit early but I suppose I can’t fight you.” Jean had smiled charmingly, fixed her coat lightly.
“I’m leaving Mondstadt.” Lisa bit her tongue once the words were out. How her stomach roiled with horrific feelings.
“What are you talking about?” Jean’s smile fell quickly, her voice grew morose.
“If I take up Captain of the eighth… Varka wants me to join the expedition. So I decided that I shall.” Lisa explained the bare minimum.
“You’ll be gone for who knows how long… all over Tevyat.” Jean shook her head stiltedly, her eyebrows were pulling closer and closer together, Lisa could see how her lips trembled.
“Yes, it should be a fun adventure.”
Lisa didn’t even like adventures that much.
“I don’t understand, Lisa. Why would you want this?” Jean breathed out brokenly and for the first time ever, Lisa watched the light spill from Jean’s eyes in a whole new way. It made her want to throw up.
“I don’t want to be here.” Lisa shrugged and tried to act like it was no big deal, like leaving Mondstadt and the Knights and Jean meant nothing to her.
“There is… nothing that could possibly keep you here?” Jean had asked in desperation, Lisa saw how wild her eyes had become. She would have grasped for anything and Lisa made sure there was nothing left.
“No, Jean. I think this will be good for me. I’ve become complacent. Make sure you look after yourself now, alright?”
She left Jean in the library and she never saw her again.
Lisa wasn’t sure if that was better than holding her as she died or falling in love with a lifeless statue. Because she never saw Jean again.
She returned to Mondstadt years later, after having joined Varka and his expedition and eventually leaving her post when Varka had little else for her to do. She had wandered the vast emptiness of Teyvat before finally returning, stepping foot back in that nation that had been her home.
Varka was Grand Master. He had no Assistant. Lisa walked through the Favonius Headquarters like a ghost, half of her looking for Jean and half of her wishing not to find her.
She didn’t.
And she never could bear to ask anyone about what had happened to Jean Gunnhildr, and so she lied to herself and pretended that Jean gave up the mantle after realizing how much it had taken from her.
But Lisa knew Jean, in this life and the last and all of their past lives in which they had been wrenched apart, and she knew that Jean Gunnhildr would have done no such thing.
Which was why, as she had passed a little too close to the Cathedral one day and noticed a new statue out of the corner of her eye, she turned abruptly and walked away and never went that way again.
Now
Lisa hardly strayed from her home anymore.
She had been hit with a dozen lives in the span of a few days. The feelings of those lives, the loss she experienced, the death she witnessed again and again.
She had been sick for a day and had to turn away Collei who had only been by to ask for help with a book report. Lisa then felt even worse about that, absolutely sick with worry that Collei would never come back after being turned away once.
You see, Lisa knew there was something off about herself. She figured it was the witch thing that her foster family had helped her work through. The spells, the magic that thrummed through her blood, she figured that was it.
But she was cursed. Not to be a witch on the edge of town, not to be the lonely spinster that lived in recluse, but to love and lose it all. Again and again. And again.
Lisa hadn’t even introduced herself to Jean, hadn’t even truly met her, and she longed for her so deeply. No wonder she could never stay away in the past.
What now? Jean lived in her town… just as long as it took to flip that house, most likely.
Lisa had mulled it over for a few days and decided to ride her bike into town, aggressively avoiding Old Main Street, and she made her way to the general store and then the cafe to stop in on Collei.
She locked her bike up and turned to enter the cafe, faltering relentlessly quick at the sight of Jean. Of course she was there. It was truly mind-boggling to Lisa that the sight of Jean incited an actual physical reaction in her. Her stomach was immediately a wreck, her mind a war of say hello and RUN.
But one of the things that always drew Lisa in, one of the reasons it was always Jean again and again… she spotted Lisa and lit up like a beacon. Blue eyes filled with excitement, her lips started a slow crawl into a grin and she waved at Lisa.
Lisa waved back hesitantly.
“Hello! I’m so glad to have run into you, you’re Lisa right?” Jean asked with the eagerness to rival a baby bird ready to take flight.
“I am… how can I help you?” Lisa asked pleasantly. There was no reason for Jean to be looking for her… she couldn’t know! Could she?
“Well, Hi, I’m Jean!” She stuck her hand out to shake and Lisa grasped it slowly, almost reverently, there it was, the first touch in this lifetime. It was rough and firm, and she watched how Jean looked at her in awe.
“You seem so familiar.” Jean whispered back, her eyes boring into Lisa’s, as if she could look hard enough and see all that Lisa had.
All that they had in their past lives.
“Odd. Must just be from the other day.” Lisa shrugged and hated how her voice couldn’t grow to any kind of strength. How she felt so feeble before Jean. But they were meeting each other, and in all their past lives they didn’t spend long with each other.
So Lisa knew this Jean would meet a gloomy fate rather soon.
“No, I swear you look…” Jean shook her head, as if wiping away the thoughts and memories that may have been creeping in. “I’m sorry, anyway, I’m glad to run into you. I asked around, you grew up in the home I purchased on Old Main. I’m repairing it and I’ve found some old keepsakes.” Jean explained in a soft and calming voice.
Lisa felt her throat tighten. That voice had meant so much to her. Her eyes watered lightly.
“I did, yes. What did you find?” Lisa sniffled lightly and Jean’s eyes were wide with concern.
“You seem upset… again.” Jean frowned.
“Oh, that house means a lot to me, that’s all. I’m just a bit emotional.” Lisa laughed away Jean’s concern, waved her off, tried to move on.
“You should stop by then! I keep finding boxes of things in old crawl spaces and pictures and books. There was so much left behind.” She was excited and eager and Lisa internally groaned.
Gods she didn’t want to be there, to think of all the horrible ways fixing an old house could kill Jean.
“No, no, that's quite alright.” Lisa shook her head but Jean was already nodding.
“Yes, please do. You can tell me more about the rooms as well, I wouldn’t want to cover up anything that means a lot to you.” She smiled in that way that Lisa had fallen in love with time and time again. She could already feel it tugging at her heart, that charming grin full of confidence and passion. “Please?”
Jean made one final begging request and Lisa felt herself crumble.
“Sure, if you’d like.” Lisa whispered.
“Tomorrow, if you’ve got time. I’m almost always there, unless I need to make a supply run. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?” Jean was excited and nodding and smiling and Lisa loved it all.
“Yes.” She nodded back and watched Jean leave with a wave, a grin, a skip in her step.
Cute. Relentlessly cute.
Lisa went right back home and cried that night.
The house was dusty. Not old dust but saw dust. Jean had a miter saw set up right in the entryway, at the base of the double staircase and underneath a covered chandelier.
“Sorry, I’m renovating.” She had grinned, as if Lisa hadn’t known.
“It’s alright. It looks nice. Did you change something already?” She frowned as she tried to figure out what it was.
“I stained the banisters. Darker is a bit more fitting. I’m going to paint the entryway too.” Jean pointed out and Lisa nodded, it did sound nice. “So, I’ve got a few boxes already filled with things. You guys just took off, or?” She trailed off and Lisa realized she knew very little of the house.
“No, I was long gone by then. I couldn’t tell you what they left behind, but… us kids were grown and gone.” Lisa sighed. She wished she’d come back at least once or twice for a visit. When she could.
Jean nodded softly and hummed. “Apologies, then. You don’t have to… be here, if it’s nothing but bad memories.”
“It’s nothing like that, it’s… I had wonderful times here.” Lisa shrugged, “so it’s a tad disheartening to see if so… lifeless.”
“Ah!” Jean exclaimed, excitement suddenly thrumming through her and nearly becoming contagious. “That’s why I’d love your help! Not… help, per say, I just mean, you know the place. You know what was here, what goes where. Help me make it… full of life once more.” Jean grinned, an absolutely charming and adorable smile filled with her excitement and anticipation for things to come.
And all Lisa could focus on was how often she wished to see Jean full of life once more. Here she was, standing before her, and she wanted to pull away, to push Jean back into a life of normalcy and with any luck, a full life.
Lisa smiled anyway and nodded and Jean began babbling about the rooms and their uses and the colors she wanted as they walked. The wallpaper she was considering.
“Hm, this was my room.” Lisa pointed out. It was a bright yellow room with a radiator in one corner and the most beautiful bay window. Jean lit up.
“I love this room, that window is wonderful!” Jean exclaimed, stepping inside to run her fingers across the dusty sill.
“I put pillows there, and a blanket, and I would curl up with a book until the sun went down.” Lisa mused with a soft smile. Those days were something special, she remembered. Jean grinned back at her, as if imagining it, imagining the life and warmth that this now empty home once held.
“Yes. I won’t touch this room, it’s perfect.” She grinned. She tugged at the sill then but it didn’t budge despite the hinges at the back of it. “Hm.” Jean crouched to inspect it.
“We painted when I was young and I seem to recall painting right over that.” She pointed out and Jean clicked her tongue.
“Not too much of a bother. I’ll split the paint and see what’s in there, then.” She shrugged and stood, dusting her thick work pants off and gesturing to Lisa once more. “Where to?”
Lisa led her around some more. She pointed out the height marks within every doorway, hers and Cyno’s were still there, names Lisa recalled from before or after her days as well. They found the little intercoms on each floor and Lisa laughed recalling how she and Cyno would play with toys in the attic and hear the crackling voice of Umm calling them down for dinner through the speaker.
“That’s incredible! You hardly ever see these anymore.” Jean had marveled at it, poking and prodding and pressing the buttons, though they seemed not to work any longer. “More things to fix!” Jean had laughed.
Lisa left that day with a little shoebox in her hand of the things Jean had found… and had offered up her phone number for Jean to reach out to her should any more odds and ends pop up.
She felt… a bit foolish to give in so easily. But it was Jean, those kind blue eyes and the crooked smile always drew her right in. She left feeling warm and safe, a familiar feeling.
Lisa picked through the shoebox and smiled at the things she recognized, baubles that her foster family kept around. Photographs, she didn’t even recognize some of the kids and once again, she felt a pang of regret for not getting back home more often. For not visiting after she had left for university.
Nothing overly interesting, but Lisa could understand why Jean may have been hesitant to throw the things away. Especially since Lisa lived in town still.
It was worth noting that while Lisa herself felt the familiar rekindling of her feelings for Jean, she recognized the look in Jean’s eyes too. They always looked the same after meeting. The way Jean’s eyes regarded her with an amount of curiosity, awe, and intrigue.
And that look would grow and change until she looked at Lisa with love.
And then, of course, those eyes would dim and they would not look at Lisa at all.
Lisa got a text from Jean. She smiled instantly, realizing that she and Jean had never quite been… here. In this time, with things such as phones. When Lisa thought about Jean, and about texting, she thought… yes, this is what I expected.
Jean had sent her something simple, I opened up that bay window! I’ll come by.
Proper capitalization and punctuation. It was cute. Endearing.
Jean was cute and endearing. As she always was. Lisa wondered if she ever felt the echoes of her past iterations. Of course, she felt the echoes of them, but Lisa never knew if Jean had any inklings of who she, of who Jean Gunnhildr was in the past.
Either way, Jean stopped by at Lisa’s house once more. Lisa had opened her door and smiled at her, invited her in, took the items she offered.
A book, another book, and some journals.
“Oh… these are all mine. I must have forgotten about them.” Lisa murmured as she flipped through one of the journals. It was an old diary with her scrawling childish handwriting. Lisa laughed as she browsed her writings. Apparently she had a class that day that she was not fond of, and emphatically made it known in her journal.
“Yeah, I think I’ve gotten into most of the little nooks and crawl spaces but, as always, I’ll let you know.” Jean smiled. Lisa felt the urge to ask her to stay, to chat… but which route did she go down this time?
Ignore Jean, pretend it won’t break her heart to lose her if they don’t get close in this lifetime?
Fall in, push all in and go head over heels for her, as she always will, and have her heart torn from her chest once more?
Lisa hesitated, clearly.
“I’ll leave you. I promise not to bother you, anymore. I just thought these things would be nice to get back.” Jean shrugged and spoke softly. She gave Lisa the most sheepish look, embarrassed to have put any meaning to the little things she’d found around the house, and Lisa wanted to melt.
It was easier to stay quiet though.
“You’re not a bother, thank you for these. I’ll see you around.” Lisa smiled tightly and walked Jean to the door, Lisa let her walk away. Oh, there’s a tragic one. How she should have let Jean walk away the first time.
The book that Jean had brought her, the large one, the one with the blank cover and the thick leather binding, was strange. It was not Lisa’s, as it turned out.
Lisa instantly knew it was something just from the look of it, though. And the feel of it. It felt heavy with something deep within it. The first page was blank save for some handwriting.
Mother Umm.
Her foster mother, of course. Lisa frowned and sat on her couch to thumb through the pages in interest. She certainly didn’t recall ever seeing the book before, couldn’t imagine why it was in her room.
It seemed to be a journal that they kept on the kids? Simple notes or anecdotes on their personalities, actions, tantrums. Growing up in foster care, living in a group home, it wasn’t always easy, after all.
But then… Lisa found her own section. And the notes were mundane, at first. Well adjusted, brilliant, curious, a bit of a trouble-maker in the mildest of senses. Too curious.
Lisa smiled at some of the little things she thought she had gotten away with as a child. Of course, looking back, it was obvious how she didn’t. Such as stealing Umm’s gifted spyglass, the one coated in gold with crystal lenses.
Obviously she knew, and Lisa smiled to realize… she let her get away with it.
After some pages of innocent and minuscule actions though, the notes got more hasty. The notes were hefty, spanning page upon page to dissect a single action Lisa had taken.
Has taken an interest into the fantastical side of the world. Read and re-read ‘The Witching Bone’ and was fascinated by the aspect of magic. Lisa surely doesn’t know, but she is innately drawn to it. She is, of course, susceptible to the powers, I can tell.
Lisa frowned heavily and continued on. Each note was signed by Umm, the handwriting scratched in as if she needed to work quickly.
Umm had been the one to mentor Lisa. She taught Lisa how to control her little magical tendencies, how to touch the occult, she had called it. She taught Lisa restraint and power and all the things she practiced these days.
Now being aware of her past lives, of course, Lisa knew her magic was nothing like that which she wielded in the past. She wondered… if that could change.
What if she had the full powers of a witch once more?
A fleeting thought, but she shook her head and continued through Umm’s notes. Then she flipped ahead and was dismayed to find… the rest of the thick book was entirely on her. Lisa, alone.
And that was a tad concerning.
It was a lot, but Lisa felt that she needed to read every single word that Umm had written about her. After all, it was in Lisa’s old bedroom for a reason, right?
True love.
That was some bullshit.
After reading through the night and partaking in none of her very precious sleep, Lisa came across Umm’s final notes on her.
She was cursed, and true love was the cure.
Which was wrong, because the curse was the fact that she kept falling in love. Lisa had learned that already. She was cursed to be in love and to lose that love. But what was curious was… how could Umm possibly have known? Lisa hadn’t any clue that she even had past lives when she was a child, let alone what they could have held.
How did Umm know she was cursed, and with love, of all things?
Lisa thought about calling Cyno, complaining about Umm (not entirely out of the ordinary) but then, what would he know? It wasn’t as if Umm was the most forthcoming of people.
Oh! No, Umm was the opposite of forthcoming. She was reclusive and enjoyed hiding things. Much like this book. Like the little odd bits that were still within the house. Her own touch with the occult gave her that tendency.
And Lisa recalled, Cyno’s favorite hiding place in the house. He had a loose floorboard within the closet of his bedroom and he hid things in there. Cash, in case there were other, less-than-kind children within the house. For a short time, some of the milder drugs he dabbled in. Beer, when he very occasionally managed to obtain some.
Lisa flipped to the notes on Cyno. All very usual, and actually quite similar to the earlier notes in Lisa’s section. She scanned the page, her finger dragging down each one until… Cyno is very fond of the loose floorboard in his closet to hide items. Nothing out of the ordinary for a teenage boy thus far, will continue keeping an eye on his hoard.
Of course she knew.
And of course… Lisa had to go back and see Jean.
Perhaps this was the joke?
That Jean and Lisa, in this life, spent their days opening and closing doors on each other. Lisa didn’t particularly enjoy the gods and their humor, how this all started from her very first life in which she had done something she couldn’t recall to offend a god she no longer knew and thus deserved to be punished for the rest of her intertwining lives.
Lisa found herself knocking on the door to her old home, to Jean’s new home, and soured even further. What another joke. This space that they’ve shared… at entirely different periods of their life.
Jean opened it with a smile, curious and polite, and it thawed significantly once she saw Lisa.
“Hello, Lisa. What brings you by?” She asked in excitement.
“Hi. I just… I was wondering if I could check one of the rooms? I remembered a little… hide-away spot my foster brother enjoyed. I’m looking for something.”
Jean shrugged noncommittally and invited Lisa in. “Of course, what is it? I may have found it, although the only new things to pop up have been stained newspapers hidden away. I threw those out, figured they weren’t much.”
“No, no, I’m sure that’s fine.” Lisa avoided the question of what she was looking for… because she wasn’t certain.
Jean smiled anyway and Lisa looked around, shocked at how different it looked. “You painted.”
“I did! I touched up the chandelier too, but I can’t decide if I want to keep it or put something modern in.” Jean chewed her cheek for a moment, standing there in the entryway of the home Lisa grew up in… and she instantly thought about what more this home could be.
With both of them. Flashes of a grinning Jean, neighborhood kids stopping by for tutoring, Jean still fiddling with the broken intercoms.
Lisa shook her head and nodded toward the stairs.
“Right, I’ll follow you.” And Jean did, close behind, babbling on about various things she had changed or shipments she was still waiting for.
Jean had a habit of nervous rambling, Lisa knew that. It made her smile.
“It was Cyno’s bedroom. I don’t know if you’ve been through the closet much but…” Lisa trailed off and opened the sliding closet door. It was a slim space, hardly enough for her to wedge into, but she knelt down and pressed along the floor until she felt a loose board. “Do you have a screwdriver or a knife?”
Jean immediately handed over a multi-tool, the knife sticking out and she took it carefully.
Lisa wedged it along the board and pried it up, it was a little stuck in place after so long. She flashed her phone inside, peering around, and there was something there. More newspaper, it looked like. Lisa reached in and grabbed it.
Jean was crouched near enough to see and raise her eyebrows. Lisa found something, newspaper sure, but something was inside of it and she frowned.
“I feel as if I know you.”
Lisa looked up from her find to see Jean peering at her with quizzical eyes, her head tilted and her lips pursed.
“Well… you do.” Lisa shrugged, feeling hot at the back of her neck.
Jean didn’t look phased. “Hm. What’d you find?”
Lisa blinked away her concern and shook her head, looking back down at the item in her hands. She pulled away nearly-crumbling newspaper and was left with a little box, long and rectangular. She opened that, and found a scroll tucked inside. Thick canvas rolled neatly, she pulled it from the box and unrolled it.
In Lisa’s hands was an ancient looking painting depicting… Jean and Lisa. It had to be them. Well, it had to be them because of what it depicted and where it was. A woman with flowing blonde hair and a sword in one hand, another woman with glowing green eyes and magic all around her. They were holding hands, staring at one another, as the sky bled behind them.
Lisa frowned and ran her eyes all over it.
“There’s something else in the box.” Jean pointed.
Lisa handed her the scroll. May as well.
“Oh!” Jean seemed shocked and Lisa… well, she’d have to explain it all, perhaps? She picked up the note from the box though and recognized Umm’s handwriting once again.
The Pair, clasped together in defiance of the gods, fated to lose one another for all of eternity.
How could Umm have possibly known any of this? Lisa’s jaw dropped and she read every single individual letter of that note to be sure she got it right.
“This depicts us?” Jean asked softly, tilting her head and looking every which way at the painting she held.
“It appears so.” Lisa answered, her voice was hoarse. Silence filled the bedroom, Cyno’s old room where he and Lisa would sometimes gossip late at night. Birds screeched outside, a flock or a fight, and Lisa focused on steadying her breathing.
“Maybe… my feelings aren’t so unfounded?” Jean prompted, and Lisa simply nodded. What else could she do? “Lisa?”
Lisa looked at her and smiled sadly. “No… not exactly. Would you like to hear the very long and tragic story of… us?”
Jean seemed skeptical, but nodded all the same.
“Sure, Lisa. I’d like to.”
And so Lisa explained everything. About their first meeting here out front of the house, to their first ever meeting, that Lisa could recall, anyway. And through the rest of them, about how they met and were drawn so very close, and yet… never got to truly share their joy together.
Lisa finished her story with tears in her eyes, taking measured breaths to keep from breaking down entirely after recounting it all again.
Jean looked thoughtful, so very thoughtful. Her eyebrows were drawn close, her eyes watched Lisa with a degree of comfort that she longed for.
“That book,” Lisa sniffled, “one of the books that you brought me was my foster mother’s. She seemed to know that I was cursed and that… true love would break it.”
Jean laughed lightly, nothing mean or harsh, but a simple breath of humor at the thought.
“Ah, true love, huh?”
Lisa managed a nod, and though she still had tears in her eyes, she shook her head at how silly it all sounded.
“Right… how childish. We’ve been in love, and yet still, we’ve never enjoyed a life together.” Lisa said softly.
“So… perhaps I am not your true love, then? If our kiss doesn’t break the curse… it’s not me.” Jean whispered her observation almost sorrowfully. Like she wished to follow in her past selves footsteps and love and cherish Lisa, no matter how short.
Lisa almost agreed… but!
In all their past lives, they never got there, they were too late. Jean was always lost before Lisa could kiss her lips while they still held any breath.
“We’ve never kissed!” Lisa blurted out, her eyes wide with shock, despair… horror.
“Ooh…” Jean trailed off into quiet contemplation. “Well… maybe we can do that someday.” She smiled and her eyes scanned all over Lisa’s face. Lisa shook her head though.
“No, Now. We do it now, I’m not leaving this to chance, Jean. I have loved you in every single lifetime, and this might be it!” She was nearly in tears once more, could it really be right in front of her? Was it that simple? Lisa had never been this sure that she could possibly have Jean for so much longer.
Jean nodded slowly, “Okay, okay.” She whispered, and she held her hand out to Lisa and they stood, hesitant. Though Lisa had loved Jean in all her lives, and Jean had loved her back, this was still… new.
Lisa nearly laughed. She knew she loved Jean, that she would fall in love with her in this life, but Jean? She was going off of some funny feelings and Lisa’s words and yet, she was still so gentle, patient, accepting.
That was what made Jean so wonderful.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” Lisa nodded shortly, she swallowed once and eyed Jean’s parted lips, soft looking, a cute little upturn to her upper lip. Lisa stepped closer, slipping her hand along Jean’s arm and grasping her bicep.
Jean leaned in, she tilted her chin down just enough and Lisa felt how she inhaled a desperate breath, a gasp, before they both pressed in and their lips met. There was a moment where Lisa simply enjoyed it, kissing Jean and feeling her press closer and slip a hand around her back as their lips were locked.
And then, another moment and they were both lost within another past life.
The Beginning
Oh, and it was so simple, you see?
Because they had been gods. Jean and Lisa, under their first names, Wind and Time.
As gods, they built a city and welcomed in a people that absolutely prospered. They did all of this together. Their people worshipped them together. And of course, they were in love.
Gods were jealous, though. The other gods looked upon them and their city and their loyal people, and they became jealous of their success. In a fit of betrayal, the other gods within their court agreed to the treasonous act of destroying Wind and Time.
How, though? Destroy their city and all that they had worked to create for their people? Draw their people away, to other gods to worship elsewhere? Kill them? One had proposed, to an uproar from his fellows.
But that wasn’t a bad idea, they all agreed. How to kill a god… but make it hurt?
And with Wind and Time… it was so obvious.
Tear them apart.
The other gods came together, they united against Wind and Time and split them up and watched them thrash back and fight but they were no use against an entire pantheon. Time fought ferociously, sneaky and wild, and Wind fought fiercely with measured and powerful strikes.
But they lost, and they were thrust down upon the land below them, and they did not know who they were.
They awoke simply as a soldier amongst her people, with a solid spear and a beautiful home, and a monster, far from the people she did not even come from.
Now
They separated slowly, eyes closed and chests heaving and minds whirling. Lisa knew it all, and she looked at Jean and waited for those beautiful blue eyes to open and look at her!
They did, slowly her eyes fluttered open and she looked at Lisa, and Lisa knew. She knew that Jean had seen everything she had seen. They belonged together and now they knew why.
“Jean?” Lisa asked softly, feeling the love of every single lifetime, the love of that first lifetime, her hand drifting up along Jean’s arm and ghosting to her collarbone.
“Lisa… Lisa.” Jean spoke and fell closer to her, arms wrapping tight around Lisa’s waist and tugging her back in to kiss her soundly, not a tentative first kiss but one that held everything they never got to share.
Lisa cupped Jean’s face and pressed into her and kissed her back just as fiercely.
They kissed until their lips felt swollen and they were clinging to each other in desperation.
“Is it done?” Jean asked. There was a world of familiarity between them now, no longer strangers that had just met, but lovers once again.
“I hope, my love, oh Jean I love you so much!” Lisa teared up and Jean mirrored her, blue eyes glossed over as her brilliant smile met Lisa.
“I love you, Lisa. I’ve missed you.” She mourned, her face falling spectacularly as she looked at Lisa. But it fell in the way that they both knew how much they had missed with each other, and it was still light with the way that they had a future before them.
Surely, they had a future.
“What do we do now?” Lisa asked in wonder, still cradling Jean’s face between her hands, stroking her thumbs over Jean’s cheeks.
Jean, though her face held her ages-old despair… she smiled. She beamed at Lisa with her beautiful bright eyes and she lit up, and she said, “We have this home… why don’t we build it together?”
To be looked at like that once again, Lisa had almost forgotten how invigorating it was. How it was like looking up into the sunlight and being caressed by an afternoon breeze. Lisa knew her tears were streaking down her cheeks and her smile was wavering out of the pure exhaustion of all of this, but she smiled nonetheless and nodded.
“Yes, that sounds perfect.” And she kissed Jean once again, because she could, because she was in her arms and she would always be in her arms, and they had won in the end.
END