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“I have seen everything inside of you and you are not a bad person.”
In a lot of ways, Laudna is thankful that Imogen is no longer a constant presence in the back of her skull. It is easier to give Imogen the version of herself that’s best-suited for her when Imogen can’t listen in on all of the other facets of her mind and see the bits she wants to leave in the shadows.
If another being appears in her head, then Laudna will know it is not her tether to this mortal plane. She will know that it is the other tether: the one pinning a foot, a hand, an eye in the shadows, somewhere with that telltale deep emerald glow. The ghost of a veil brushes against her temple.
It’s back to just the two of them, Delilah no longer forced to be a third-wheel, even if she hasn’t heard anything from her hitchhiker since the surprise beating of her heart in Issylra.
But those words Imogen shared with her in front of the baker’s stall in the market – the reassurances, the confidence that she’d had to say that Laudna was good and kind and lovable – they echo in the empty caverns of her mind, ricochet between the boxes of horrors she’d rather leave untouched.
She has control, for once, of everything Imogen will glean from her. No longer can she rely on Imogen to catch the snippets, the half-formed thoughts that circulate, snagging the thoughts Laudna doesn’t fully consider or think worth mentioning. Can’t rely on her to figure things out on her behalf. Laudna gets to curate something now and it both fills her with dread, icicles forming over the brim of her, for such a responsibility and the hope that maybe now she can become those things Imogen thinks of her.
Because she knows they’re not true.
Imogen is wonderful, sweet, powerful, and, gods, for whatever reason Imogen loves her, reaches for her hand, sleeps in her bed.
Imogen, who bought her a corset, who Sent to her every night they were apart despite the failures, despite the pain, just in case a spell made its way through the void that Ruidus left and made it to her. Imogen, who fought Delilah for her, who fought Ludinus for her, who accepted Pâté back when he was just a puppet, just because Laudna loved him.
Imogen, who deserves far more than Laudna could ever possibly give her. The best thing Laudna could do for her is save her, when the time is right, when the chips have scattered around them, when Imogen’s destiny comes calling for her and a sacrifice is needed – that’s when Laudna will finally pay back all of the kindness Imogen has given her, all the ways she made this second (third?) attempt at life something beautiful, something Laudna will cherish forever. ‘Til she reaches the end of this mortal coil and throughout the dark hell that awaits her next.
Imogen finds her then, coming back from getting cauliflower to rejoin Laudna at the apothecary’s where she’s waiting in a slow-moving line to acquire that lavender oil Zhudanna requested.
Imogen is happy to see her, smile and eyes both incredibly soft, sidling right up beside Laudna and wrapping an arm around Laudna’s. She rests lightly against Laudna’s side, against their intertwined limbs, lightly leans her head on a shoulder.
Laudna’s resolve, her half-baked plan, solidifies in her heart.
After they finish the shopping and return to Zhudanna’s, she can tell that Imogen is sitting on something, holding something back.
“Imogen?” Laudna asks, coming up beside her and taking the loaf of pumpernickel from her unmoving hands.
“What?” Imogen snaps out of a daze, realising too-late that the loaf of bread is gone. Laudna places it down on the counter beside the other loaf.
“Darling, are you alright?”
Imogen’s eyes meet Laudna’s, her pupils are wide and her eyes dart back and forth between Laudna’s. “I’m fine,” but it sounds just a touch too squeaky. Laudna narrows her eyes, tilts her head just slightly to the side.
“Darling…” She lets her concern, her worry, her love and affection coat the word in a thick syrup.
“It’s nothin’,” Imogen denies immediately and goes to step away.
Laudna wraps one hand around Imogen’s. She doesn’t say anything, just waits.
In a war of patience, Laudna always wins. She will always be able to outwait Imogen’s fire.
Laudna lets herself have one little smile of victory as she hears Imogen’s defeated sigh.
“I don’t want to be needy or anythin’,” Imogen says, keeping a hold on Laudna’s hand but turning so they’re facing each other now.
“You could never,” Laudna says. “You know I’ll give you anything and everything I can.”
But instead of comforting her, it looks like this response actually makes Imogen deflate more.
“I know, but I don’t want you to.”
Laudna blinks owlishly twice. Gives her head a little shake like she didn’t hear correctly. “Pardon me?”
Imogen lets out a stressed breath between her teeth. “I know you would, Laudna, but I don’t want you to. Not unless it’s something you actually want to do. I want you to be able to make your own decisions.”
Ah, Laudna thinks. This old song and dance.
“I am making my own decisions, dearest,” Laudna reassures Imogen, squeezing her hand. “I will always choose to give you everything I can, everything within my, admittedly, little power.”
“What if what I want is for you to put yourself first?” Imogen asks, eyes still wide as saucers, staring up at Laudna.
Laudna doesn’t respond, just lets her thumb rub soft circles on the back of Imogen’s hand.
“Laudna.”
“I don’t want to, Imogen, please don’t ask that of me.” Lauda swallows, but she can’t pull her gaze from Imogen’s piercing stare.
“But if you’re so busy looking out for me, who’s lookin’ out for you?” Imogen’s voice wavers with stress.
“No one needs to look out for me,” Laudna says. “I’m not that important.”
Imogen grips Laudna’s hand tight, now with both hands. “You are important, Laudna, you’re important to me.”
And it feels like Laudna can’t say the right thing for the death of her. “Oh, well, of course, darling, you’re important to me, too.”
Imogen’s already shaking her head. “No, I mean, yes, of course, but no. If you insist on not doing it yourself, then will you let someone else do it?”
Laudna is just a touch perplexed, this seems like such a weird point for Imogen to be focused on right now.
“That really seems unnecessary, darling.”
“Just, will you let someone else look out for you?” Imogen is pleading and she knows that’s not playing fair.
“Oh, alright, if that’s what you really want,” Laudna gives in with a huff.
“Yeah?”
Laudna shrugs, “Of course, if it will make you happy, that’s fine.” She squeezes Imogen’s hand. “Who did you have in mind? Chetney might work, or Prism is heading off with Deanna–”
“No!” Imogen says quickly and then she blushes. “No, that’s alright.”
Laudna raises an eyebrow. “Alright… then who?”
The blush is still decorating the apples of Imogen’s cheeks. “I’ll take care of you,” she declares.
A snort rips its way out of Laudna before she can process it. Immediately, Imogen’s face falls. “Oh, no, darling, I just – that kind of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it? You need to look out for yourself and I’ll be helping with that, you shouldn’t have to look after me.”
“I want to.”
“I really don’t need anything,” Laudna says, and even as the words leave her lips she’s not sure if she’s telling the truth or a lie.
“If that’s true, then it’s no big deal for me to look after you,” Imogen says with a victorious grin worming its way onto her face. And Imogen is always beautiful, but especially so with some pride hovering at the corners of her lips.
“Let me,” Imogen says. “I’ll take care of you.”
Laudna is done fighting her, but as someone who’s dealt with herself for thirty-plus years, she does feel like a warning is in order.
“It’s rotten work,” she promises.
Imogen steps closer and places her hands on either side of Laudna’s waist. “Not to me,” Imogen breathes. “Not if it’s you.” She lays her head on Laudna’s chest and wraps Laudna in a tight hug.
Laudna stops breathing. She places her chin on Imogen’s head gently. There’s a sudden tension in the air and that’s when she notices.
Imogen does not have the circlet on. As the recognition bubbles to the surface of Laudna’s thoughts, Imogen takes a sharp breath. Apologies spill out when she exhales.
“I’m sorry, I took it off when we got home, I just – I missed you and your music and to have you here but to still not be able to hear you was driving me fuckin’ crazy.”
I missed you, too, Laudna thinks. I was worried about it feeling too empty up here without you.
Laudna lets Imogen in, fully, forgetting that earlier she’d had a good reason or two to want to keep some things to herself.
A sharp inhale. “Laudna –” and Laudna already knows what she’s seen, already knows that the thought flitted around the edges of her mind as she remembered what she’d been thinking earlier.
“Ah,” Laudna says, with a subtone of 'Well, that's unfortunate,' but not regret. She knows from the timbre of Imogen’s presence in her mind that she’s, shall we say, in trouble.
Imogen burrows even harder against her. “I don’t want you thinkin’ things like that,” she says hoarsely against Laudna’s shirt.
But I mean it. But it’s true.
Imogen shakes her head and Laudna feels wetness against her cold skin.
“I’m not cryin’,” Imogen immediately denies as the thought crosses Laudna’s mind. But her voice is thick and wavering.
“I don’t want you doing that, especially not for me.”
But I love you, Imogen.
“I love you, too.”
More than anything, I said, and I meant it then, as much as I mean it now. If not more so now.
“But not more than – just, please, not more than that.”
Why not, my darling? I can think of no better way to go than to ensure your life, your safety, your happiness.
“You wouldn’t be,” Imogen is fully crying against Laudna’s chest, her hands bunching up the fabric of Laudna’s new dress at the back.
???
Imogen pulls herself away from Laudna’s chest, pulls her hands back to Laudna’s waist and then changes her mind and places one hand on each of Laudna’s cheeks. She is trembling and earnest and Laudna can see a storm brewing in the depths of her eyes.
When she finally speaks, Imogen enunciates every word, her accent practically dripping off each syllable. “I would not be happy, if you’re not here. I would not be safe without you. And I am most certainly not going to continue being here alone without you.”
A wave of thoughts flood Laudna’s mind, and she wants to apologise as Imogen closes her eyes because she’s still in there, she’s getting the whole tempest of emotions and responses.
Nonononono, Imo–
– wasted on me –
– don’t deserve –
– find someone better –
– gods, she’s pretty –
– lived a long life –
– she can’t –
“Hey,” Imogen whispers and pulls Laudna’s head down carefully. She presses her forehead against Laudna’s, eyes slipping closed, and it grounds the chaos swirling in Laudna’s mind. Laudna studies the skin of Imogen’s eyelids until those eyes open.
There is barely an inch between their noses, Imogen’s eyes are slightly out of focus being so close to Laudna’s.
“Laudna,” Imogen whispers and for some reason it sounds a little scared. Laudna searches imploringly.
“Yes, darling?”
Laudna’s eyes dart down at the movement in her periphery, at Imogen biting a corner of her lip between her teeth. There’s a fleeting curiosity at what that feels like with teeth that aren’t too sharp.
“Can I –” Imogen presses their noses together, rests there a moment.
“Can you?”
“Can I kiss you?”
How could she want – with me – someone alive – someone prettier – someone deserving –
There isn’t a no in there, not really, nothing that suggests Laudna doesn’t want to.
“I love you, I want you, you’re alive, you’re gorgeous, I don’t deserve you,” Imogen addresses every little fear as it appears in Laudna’s head.
Laudna’s eyes are shimmering, like they were when Imogen said she wasn’t a bad person earlier.
“I meant it, Laudna,” Imogen reassures, stroking her cheek with a thumb carefully.
Alright. Laudna is sure she looks scared, worried, but she trusts Imogen, she believes her, she loves her.
“Alright,” Laudna repeats, this time out loud, with the rasp of her voice low.
Imogen presses her lips against Laudna’s, and they are warm, they are comfort, they feel like home.
When they pull away, Laudna’s heart is hammering (for her) in her chest and her only coherent thought is I love her I love her I love her. And Imogen, honest-to-gods, giggles, opens her mind to Laudna so she can hear that same thought repeating in Imogen’s head, full of wonder and awe and happiness.
It’s intoxicating. Laudna leans back in, leaves one more kiss on Imogen’s lips, more confident than their first.
Imogen has a sparkle in her eye, a playful angle to her lips, “See? I think we’ll both like me takin’ care of you.” She giggles again and it’s infectious, Laudna can’t help joining in.
“I could be… persuaded.”