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“But the giant spider had never left her head! It was still on her hair that entire time!"
“No!!”
“I swear, even through the whole scolding.”
“Wait, Laud, when you say giant spider, what exactly do you mean? We talkin’ giant, behemoth, or just a big fuckin’ spider?”
“Funny you ask, because you’ll never believe…”
Laudna finishes telling Imogen the story as they make their way through another cup of ale. They are enjoying the relative luxury of staying at an inn in a town larger than the last- that is, large enough to have an inn that sells food and drink. There are even enough colorful-looking characters around that they don’t feel they stick out like sore thumbs.
They’re celebrating a milestone from their journey together thus far: most notably, Imogen has successfully managed to establish and keep up a barrier to other people’s thoughts. Now she is able to let them in voluntarily, but they no longer pour through her like a river through a net. The joy and relief in her eyes when she had first successfully blocked out thoughts (Laudna had obligingly thought out the ingredients and steps to a favorite pancake recipe as loudly as she could) made Laudna immediately dig in her heels and insist that they take the time to celebrate this achievement before Imogen pushed herself to the next.
Laudna has no idea what time it is, and she doesn’t care. It’s dark outside, that’s about as much as she can tell. Her own giggles and laughter intermingle and trade off with Imogen’s. It’s fun, it’s nice, to see Imogen laugh this much. Laudna surely isn’t nearly that funny; she must be getting some assistance from the perfectly serviceable ale they’re enjoying. But it’s a lovely moment all the same.
Relaxed and animated, Imogen leans in and out of Laudna’s space unselfconsciously, lightly knocking their heads together or putting a hand at her arm during especially raucous bouts of laughter. Laudna’s head swims pleasantly. She, and she suspects Imogen too, has still been treating their friendship as something fragile, something new. Very careful not to intrude or overstep. It feels good to have some reason, some excuse to just be silly and close.
Giggles and hiccups ebb and they enjoy a long companionable moment of silence as they both empty their cups. Laudna contemplates getting another before deciding against it. She swirls the remaining droplets around, blinks slowly like a tired and contented cat.
“What did you say?”
Laudna looks up at Imogen's sharp tone and sees her eyes darting around. “What was that, dear?”
Imogen’s gaze shoots to the other side of the room, where a small group is playing cards. Then past Laudna with a short loud breath.
She tries to speak a bit more loudly. “Is everything all right?”
Imogen’s eyes still flick around, unfocused and harried. After a few breaths, she chokes out, “I— it’s back, it’s back, Laudna, it’s so loud and it’s so much- I don’t know how- I thought…”
She squeezes her eyes shut, pushed back in her seat, her hands clenched in her lap.
Laudna immediately gets up and moves closer, thinking as quietly and clearly and deliberately as she can, I’m sorry, it’s all right, Imogen dear, I’m here. What do you need?
Silence and stillness beyond the slightest motions of the head, as if Imogen were dreaming.
“Want me to take you away from here?”
A nearly imperceptible nod.
“All right then, I’ve got you.”
Laudna supports what of Imogen’s weight that she can, more guiding her than pretending to be able to carry her at all. She takes the two of them out of the room and up too many stairs, and she’s stumbling a little too. Imogen is leaning on her, eyes closed, brows drawn tight in a scowl to try and drown out the outside world, a hand digging into her forehead as if trying to burrow through with her fingers. Laudna swallows. Another inn guest gives Laudna a knowing smirk upon seeing them, at which she finds herself wanting to gouge out his eyes- wait, no, pleasant thoughts for Imogen. The rustling of trees in a summer wind, lapping of waves upon a distant shore, a deer standing still and watchful in the woods. She finds Imogen’s tight hold on her arm has loosened slightly and is pleased to see that her hand has left her head and instead she’s burying her brow into Laudna’s shoulder.
Back in their room, they part enough for Laudna to be able to inspect Imogen’s face- oh no, there are tear tracks, what sort of pain must she be in, what kinds of things must she have heard-
“It’s all right, Laud, really.”
Laudna is pleased to hear Imogen’s voice after so much silence, that she is able to speak again, but the flatness, tiredness, the rawness of it makes her heart sink. Imogen clears her throat and speaks again.
“It isn’t hurting nearly as much as it could be, as it can, nothing anyone was thinking was particularly awful- I just-"
The words die out and instead Laudna hears in her head, I thought I was past this. I thought we’d done it, that I could control it now, that all this work was for something. But now-
Even the thought-words falter.
…what if I lost it, what if there’s nothing I can do, and I can’t be around people or cities or anything again without feeling this way?
Laudna takes Imogen’s hands and guides her to sit on the bed. She sits down next to her and starts lightly stroking her hair.
“A step back isn’t the end of the world, and I should know. We’ll figure it out.”
Laudna casts her gaze around the room, taking stock of the small handful of belongings that make up their life on the road.
“In the meantime, is it better in here? Or should we leave and rough it outside of town for the night? We can always give it more distance, and you can always tell me if you need space from me as well.”
Imogen shakes her head and speaks out loud again. “No, please stay. It’s. Having you around. Keeps me.” She trails off and gathers her thoughts, brow narrowed again while Laudna tucks strands behind Imogen’s ears. The crease in her forehead softens. Her eyes are closed.
“And thank you, but it’s already a bit better- I also don’t want to walk all the way past the edge of town right now. I’m not sure I can.” Her back finally starts to loosen as well and she lets herself sink into the bed and Laudna’s touch.
Laudna gives a deep nod. "All right, as you say. But at the very least, you should eat and drink something before bed.”
Despite Imogen’s insistence that she couldn’t stomach any food right now, Laudna returns a short while later with some clear broth and water. Imogen obliges her to the best of her ability, and Laudna finishes what she cannot.
Imogen says, “I’m really embarrassed. I’m sorry to have to lean on you so much. This really isn’t my greatest day.”
“That’s perfectly all right. It isn’t your worst, right?”
A sorely missed smile. “No, you’re right. We had too much fun for that.”
The two get ready for bed- or fall into bed, rather, given the night they’ve been having. Only the bare minimum of bed-readying, removing rock picks from hair and tucking Pâtés in and such. In the darkness, Imogen says to the ceiling:
“One more thing- could you… could you do the music again, Laudna?”
“Of course.”
Laudna plays in her head a few gentle tunes, where voices and instruments alike trade off the simple melody, imagines a sky full of stars just past the ceiling above them both. She wonders if Imogen is asleep when she hears:
You know- it’s your voice. I don’t know if you imagine other things or someone else singing, but I hear your voice, and it’s beautiful.
You’re too kind.
Naw, I’m a fully appropriate and merited level of kind. Goodnight, Laudna.
Goodnight, Imogen.
Another interstice of silence. She should let Imogen sleep now, but she can’t resist:
How about now? Laudna summons from memory a recreation of some bladder-based instrument, shrill and shameless, playing a far-too-jaunty tune, and she is able to pull one more laugh out of Imogen this evening.