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i
“Please, someone help! She’s gonna bleed out!” Navia yelled, clutching Clorinde’s frame to her chest. Tears rolled from her blue eyes, unusually dim under the overcast sky. Clorinde ignored the pain as she stared into those beautiful eyes, and a soft smile grew on her face.
“Papa, Melus, anyone! Help her!” The blonde called out, frantically scanning the scene around them. Clorinde spotted Mr. Callas running towards the pair, first aid kit in hand.
“Hurry! I can’t lose her, I need her!”
“Navia,” Clorinde croaked, reaching a hand up to hold Navia’s face. The blonde sniffled, facing her. The distress was written on her face in ink, tears carving a path through smudges of dirt. Her world was ending and she felt helpless.
Clorinde took a shaky breath.
“I scraped my knee. I’m fine.” Clorinde said, before lightly patting Navia’s cheek. She wormed her way out of the other girl’s grasp, sat up, and bent her knee to raise it, revealing a large but superficial cut.
“Oh.” Navia finally took a look at the previously considered mortal wound and poked the edge of it.
“You’re so dramatic.” Clorinde huffed fondly, wincing at the contact near the cut. She lightly swatted her hand away as Callas finally arrived on the scene.
Despite the gloomy weather, the Spina di Rosula was hosting a picnic for the people of Poisson, featuring food, entertainment, and games for the children. Of course, the second Clorinde was dropped off by her master, Navia ditched all of that so the pair could go run off together. They began one of their favorite games: pretending to be a fairytale princess and her loyal knight, defending her from a ferocious monster. In this defense of Her Majesty, the brave knight tripped over a rock and took a tumble. The princess, dramatic as she was, saw the smallest drop of crimson blood on her knight and immediately started crying from worry.
“Clorinde, are you alright?” Callas knelt down next to the entangled pair, cracking open the medical kit.
“Yes, just a scratch.” Callas nodded, pulling out a wipe and bandage, before a pair of small hands snatched them from his hands.
“I’ve got it, Papa,” Navia declared, having wiped the tears from her eyes. She seemed to have rebounded from her unbearable distress rather quickly, jumping to action. Callas backed away, deciding this was a relatively harmless battle to forfeit. Clorinde’s eyes widened at the determination in her face, though she was concerned at what amount of medical knowledge her eleven year old friend could possibly have.
Navia grinned at her brightly before attempting to reassure her that “She was in the most capable hands possible!” Clorinde braced herself for a well-meaning but forceful wipe across her cut. However, Navia gently brushed away the dirt and despite the small sting of the wipe itself, was exceedingly careful with the wound.
Clorinde stared at the concentration in her face and how Navia’s tongue poked out as she placed the bandage perfectly over the scratch.
“There!” The blonde admired her own handiwork and her father gave her a pat on the back. Clorinde couldn’t help but smile, a surrendered expression that frequently graced her face when around this girl.
“Thank you, Navia.” Clorinde began to push herself to her feet, but was stopped by a firm hand.
“Wait!” Clorinde looked at the other girl and watched as she leaned towards her knee. Navia gently kissed over the bandage, before beaming at Clorinde once again. The younger girl’s mouth dropped open at the unexpected gesture, gaping like a fish. Heat flushed her face as she stared at Navia, though she couldn’t understand why.
“Now it’s all better!” Navia exclaimed, before hopping to her feet. “Now come on, I think the brave knight deserves a lavish meal for her sacrifice, don’t you?” She held out a hand for Clorinde to take and lifted her to her feet. Her hand was soft and warm, fitting into Clorinde’s cool one perfectly. Even though the entire sky was gray, Clorinde couldn’t help but feel like she was staring at the sun as she looked at her best friend.
As Navia dragged her off towards the food table, citing the need for Clorinde to try some delicious sandwiches, she tried to ignore how her heart was pounding in her chest. The wound might have throbbed in pain, but all she could think about was that brief press of lips to her knee.
ii
“This is a terrible idea.” Clorinde whispered into the stale darkness. The groan of the lantern’s handle interrupted the creak of floorboards under their feet, cutting through the quiet.
“What, the future Champion Duelist can’t handle a few cobwebs?”
In all fairness, Navia knew that an impromptu expedition into a collapsed house in the Fleuve Cendre was maybe not her most thought-out idea, but what’s life without a bit of adventure? Supposedly, the house was haunted by the ghost of a jilted lover, who stole her unfaithful husband’s fortune before setting the house ablaze. After hearing of the local legend from a few of the neighborhood’s children, Navia had the overwhelming urge to explore the condemned house, even if the Gardes had barricaded every possible entrance. The legend was likely just a myth made up by some bored old drunk, but she couldn’t resist the itch to check it out.
Clorinde was less than pleased when Navia dragged her to the house that morning, citing the need to show her something “super cool and mysterious.” The younger girl seemed unconvinced at the prospect of finding some kind of fortune, even after Navia’s enthusiastic rendition of the legend. In the end, she was only able to coax her into the plan with pouting and promises of a free lunch.
(Navia was gonna pay anyway as it was her turn, but it’s the thought that counts.)
The rotted plank boarding up an open window on the side of the house gave way easily and the teens managed to wiggle their way through. The pair wound up in what was presumably the living room, full of decaying bookcases and furniture. Disturbed dust hung in the air like smoke, clouding their vision in the dim light.
“Cobwebs? Not the problem. I’m trying to avoid tetanus,” Clorinde replied, lifting the lantern towards some exposed and rusty nails sticking out of the wall. Navia grimaced at the sight, but waved her hand in dismissal.
“We’ll be perfectly fine! And,” Navia smirked, “If you get scared, you can just hold my hand.” She didn’t have to turn around to know that Clorinde was rolling her eyes at the tease.
Forging ahead, Navia ducked under a collapsed beam to enter a narrow hallway. Each side had doorways, each locked shut. However, at the end of the hall, a door was ajar and full of promise.
Navia took brisk steps towards the door, dodging wayward drips of water from the ceiling. The telltale creak in the floorboards gave away Clorinde’s stealthy pursuit, despite the girl’s silence. Navia's mind ran rampant with dreams of a fortune that could fund the Spina for years and pay for those gorgeous matching bracelets she saw in the Court for her and Clorinde. If they were truly lucky, they could even get front row seats to one of the popular operas!
Navia pushed through the door, throwing caution to the wind. A foreboding scraping noise was ignored as Navia scanned around the room, which held only an empty metal bed frame and a soot covered nightstand. Navia let out a sigh of disappointment, but was interrupted before she could air her grievances.
A loud groan came from above and as she went to look up, a forceful shove pushed her into the room. Navia yelped, watching as part of the roof above where she was standing caved in, directly onto Clorinde. A stray support beam dropped onto her head and she crumpled to the floor, clutching her forehead.
“Clorinde!” Navia yelled, immediately running to her side. Panic welled up inside her as she looked at her best friend. She spoke her name again, but Clorinde simply groaned in response. Navia rapidly brushed what debris she could off of her, before hastily (and with some effort) picking her up bridal style and rushing back to the living room. She carefully placed her on the most stable-looking chair and dropped to her knees, ignoring the wood biting into her knees as she tried to check Clorinde’s face.
“Clorinde, are you alright?” Navia asked, almost pleading for a response. Clorinde grunted, but slowly removed the hands from her face. A gash had opened on her forehead, cutting through her eyebrow. Blood covered the right side of her face, a bright and jarring red. Navia felt faint.
“I don’t think it cut my eye, but I can’t open it right now,” Clorinde coughed out, trying to expel the dust she breathed in. Navia shrugged off the bag on her back and began rifling through it, pulling out a water pouch, a handkerchief, and some long bandages. She stood, opening the top of the water pouch.
“Lean back and shut your eyes tightly,” Navia commanded, grabbing Clorinde’s jaw gently. She tilted the water pouch, pouring over the wound and washing away the blood and dirt.
Silence fell upon them as Navia washed the cut, but as the initial panic receded, frustration and worry took its place. She glared into the wound as the blood washed away, what-ifs running through her brain. The air grew tense and she could tell that Clorinde was growing nervous.
Once the wound was clean, she wrapped bandages around her head. It wasn’t perfect, but it would work until they got to the Spina’s clinic. She took a step back, dropping the bandages to the ground. Clorinde’s right eye blinked open, irritated but unharmed. Her gaze locked onto Navia. She could have shivered from its intensity; Something about Clorinde’s eyes pierced through her, seeing through walls she didn’t realize she had put up.
“Navia?” Clorinde hesitantly broke the silent standoff, pleading for something. The dam which held the last of Navia’s resolve broke.
“How could you do something like that? You could have gotten killed. What were you thinking?” Navia demanded, a shake in her voice betraying her concern. Clorinde shrunk into herself, avoiding eye contact.
“I couldn’t let you get hurt,” Clorinde offered finally, but Navia was quick to rebut her.
“And I can let you? Bullshit, Clorinde. What kind of idiotic-” Navia began, furiously tossing the bandages and water back into her bag.
“I can’t lose you.” Navia’s head snapped towards her.
“You’re the most important person in my life,” Clorinde’s voice cracked, small and defeated. “I can’t lose you.” Navia looked at the girl in the chair, her best friend in the world, the strongest person she knew, and saw the shackles of fear. It struck her how fragile she looked in the dim light, how young . It had only been a little over three years since Petronilla left without a word, abandoning Clorinde just like her parents did. Leaving her alone.
“Oh, Clorinde,” Navia rushed towards her, tugging on her hands to pull her up into a crushing embrace.
“You dummy, I’m never going anywhere.”
“But-”
Navia pulled back, cupping Clorinde’s face in her hands. Gently, she brought their foreheads together. She could feel Clorinde’s exhale on her lips and her breath caught in her throat for an inexplicable moment. She stared into her dark eyes, hoping Clorinde could see her sincerity.
“It’s you and me, forever and always, okay? I’m never leaving your side, ever.” The air stilled between them as Clorinde searched her eyes. Slowly, her hands came to rest on Navia’s waist, light enough where she could pull away at the slightest hint of displeasure.
“Okay,” Clorinde whispered with a sniff. “I’m sorry.” Navia thumbed away a stay tear which had finally escaped the heartbreakingly stoic girl. The blonde stood on her toes, utilizing her slight advantage in height to press a kiss to Clorinde’s forehead. Once again, she pulled her into a hug, solid and protective.
“You don’t need to apologize, just take care of yourself, for me?” Clorinde pressed her face into Navia’s neck, mumbling in agreement. For a moment, it was as if she had gone limp in Navia’s arms, allowing herself an increasingly rare moment of vulnerability. After her master left, she had thrown herself into training even harder, running drills from sunrise to sunset. The closer duelist trials seemed to approach, even as far off as they were, Clorinde seemed increasingly determined to perfect her skills. However, some of her training seemed almost like castigation, punishing herself for an unknown crime. Navia had seen less and less of her and her heart ached at the thought of Clorinde, alone and tired.
That was why she invited her out in the first place on that day. Navia missed her. So she stood steady as she held her best friend, rubbing circles on her back and letting the moment last. She was never going to leave Clorinde. She was her rock, and damn anyone who tried to stop her.
After an infinity, Clorinde pulled away.
“Thank you.” She wiped at her eyes and gave Navia a small smile. Navia’s traitorous heart fluttered, throwing her into motion.
“Let’s get out of here,” Navia said, grabbing her bag off of the floor and slinging it onto her shoulder. Together, the pair climbed back out of the window, though arguably in a much less graceful fashion than their entrance.
“Now, to the Spina and then lunch,” she declared, taking Clorinde’s hand in her own.
“Why are we going to the Spina?” Clorinde asked. Navia stopped, giving her a firm and incredulous stare.
“You need stitches.” Clorinde opened her mouth to protest, but quickly shut it, no doubt due to whatever pain her head was in at the moment. With a satisfied hmph, Navia began walking once again, leading to the Fleuve Cendre headquarters. Clorinde’s hand was cool in her own and Navia gave it a soft squeeze.
“Plus, I think I owe you lunch and dessert for saving my life. My brave knight.” Navia giggled, knocking into her. Clorinde chuckled and squeezed back in response. The pair walked in tandem, conversation flowing between them like the water in the pipes.
“Ya know, I think you’re gonna get a cool eyebrow scar. It would look super dashing.”
“And tell people that they should have seen the other guy?”
“Yeah!”
“I think you’re just coming up with terrible ideas today.”
“Hey!”
iii
As the undefeated Champion Duelist of Fontaine, Clorinde’s skill with a blade and ability to survive were polished and exceptional. However, when faced with the simple task of assisting Navia with baking for a charity event, she felt increasingly challenged.
It was a rare day off for her, no duels to fight or paperwork to fill out. So, as usual, she went to Poisson to visit Navia. She hoped that they could maybe get lunch, as she hadn’t seen her all week. However, when she arrived, all hope of a peaceful meal together flew away. The Spina di Rosula was bustling with activity as they prepared for a charity event for the children of Fontaine. Despite the activity, she was unable to find the future president anywhere, which was odd considering she was in charge of the event. Clorinde asked around and was directed to Navia’s home, where she was greeted by Navia and enough cookies to fill every bakery in Fontaine.
Stubborn as she was, Navia had refused the offer of allowing the catering service to provide desserts for the event and insisted that she would make them personally. As the daughter of the President of Spina di Rosula, she pressed that it was important for her to directly reach out to the people and establish relationships with them. She had planned on spending the entire day before and leading up to the event baking as many cookies as humanly possible, even though she was hosting the gala herself. Clorinde immediately offered to help and received a protest at the idea that she would spend her free time working instead of relaxing.
“I get to spend the day with you, that’s all I want. What we do is inconsequential.” Clorinde said, watching Navia fluster at her forthright response. The last few months, they had somehow grown even closer than before, building up to something between them that had gone unnamed thus far. Navia would constantly toss flirty remarks towards her, but was caught completely off guard if Clorinde returned the sentiment or said something heartfelt. It was unreasonably adorable.
“Another set of hands would expedite the process tremendously,” Navia conceded with a mild blush, but Clorinde could tell that she was secretly pleased. She jumped into action and helped put away the desserts that were done and ran to grab extra ingredients. The afternoon passed in a blur as they worked in tandem, cranking out what a normal person would consider to be an absolutely absurd quantity of cookies for a simple children’s charity gala.
A glimpse of the sunset peaked through the window, scattering golden light onto Navia’s face as she mixed batter. Dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, hair thrown back into a haphazard ponytail, and freckled with flecks of flour, Navia would have argued that she looked a mess. To Clorinde, she looked just as beautiful as always, maybe even more so. She glowed in the dimming light, shining brighter than any star that could fill the twilight.
Being in this proximity to her made Clorinde want to do stupid things, like reach over, kiss her, and know what those pretty lips would feel like pressed against her own. However, that shard of fear in her chest that she would ruin their friendship, that things would change irreparable between them, stopped her. So instead, she continued to yearn from after as she had for all these years, letting Navia’s company simply be enough.
They had made it to the final batch and Clorinde was cutting up white chocolate for a ganache topping. Navia placed the tray to the side to cool and began to sing quietly as she tackled the mountain of dishes in the sink. It was from a play they had seen recently. Clorinde was able to use her connections in the Court to get tickets, as Navia had mentioned offhandedly that she wished to go see it. The show was good, but admittedly, Clorinde spent much more of the performance than she should have watching the sparkle in Navia’s eyes rather than the stage.
Clorinde kept sneaking glances at her as she sang, her voice soothing and calming after the long day. The light caught Navia’s eye, sapphire blue glinting like the rarest gem and in that moment, Clorinde’s blade missed the chocolate and instead sliced her finger.
She dropped the knife and hissed, pulling her hand up to inspect the cut. It was barely a nick, which was lucky considering her lack of attention while using a blade.
Upon hearing the knife drop to the board, Navia stopped singing and in concern asked, “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I merely cut my finger. There’s hardly any blood, but I’ll get a clean knife.” Clorinde placed the offending knife into the pile of unwashed dishes and ran her finger under the water. She turned to go retrieve a bandaid for the cut, but was stopped by a hand grabbing her wrist.
She turned in confusion to find Navia with a mischievous smirk. Suddenly, the air between them grew warmer as Clorinde noticed their proximity.
“You know, they say saliva helps heal wounds,” Navia mused. She approached Clorinde slowly, backing her into the counter.
Clorinde could only make a strangled noise of surprise as Navia lifted her hand to her mouth and wrapped her lips around her finger. Clorinde nearly whimpered at the sensation of Navia’s tongue against her skin. After an unbearably long moment, Navia pulled away with a smug smile.
“There, all better,” she teased, daring to take a step back. Clorinde’s other hand darted out, snaking around her waist and pulling her back. Navia’s breath hitched as Clorinde pulled her in, eyes darting to her lips.
“Navia,” Clorinde gasped. Her heart pounded in her chest as each of them leaned imperceptibly closer with each moment. The anticipation of this inevitable moment that they had been building to for all these years could have stopped time. The golden light bathed them in warmth as Clorinde and Navia both leaned in, eyes shutting loosely. Clorinde’s heart fluttered as Navia’s lips began to ghost over hers and she-
Behind them, a throat cleared. Clorinde jumped back with a yelp, standing to attention.
“Hello, Clorinde.” Callas Caspar was not an old man, but in that moment, he looked aged beyond his years, even as he looked at his daughter and her closest friend fondly. Clorinde knew that the president had been increasingly busy with some of his business partners. Hushed confessions from his daughter had revealed that he seemed more and more stressed recently and that she was worried about him. His visible eye crinkled as he smiled, but underneath he looked exhausted.
“Hello, Mr. Callas,” Clorinde finally blurted out, realizing that she had let the silence linger too long after the…compromising position the pair had been found in.
“I see that you two have had a productive baking session,” he said nonchalantly, looking around at all the boxes of finished cookies.
“Yes, very,” Navia squeaked out. Clorinde finally glanced at the blonde next to her, who was beet red. She seemed to have become very interested in that previously abandoned pile of dishes as she vehemently avoided eye contact with her father.
Mercifully, Callas turned around. “Have a good night, girls,” he bade them, heading to the staircase.
“Goodnight,” the pair echoed as he walked out of the room. Clorinde turned towards Navia and opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted once more.
“Oh, and Clorinde?” Callas called from the hall, “Wash your hands.” Clorinde flushed to the same shade as Navia, speechless. Navia, finally snapped out of her shock, snorted at the comment, finally looking at Clorinde. The pair had a standoff for one awkward moment before they both burst into laughter. Clorinde was nearly wheezing as she leaned on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Navia was in tears, giggling as she leaned on Clorinde. There might have been arguably non-platonic unsaid feelings between them, but at the end of the day, Navia was her best friend.
Once they finally calmed down, the moment passed like it had never happened and they finished the final batch.
(The only acknowledgement was a quiet snicker from Navia as Clorinde washed her hands, which almost sent them both into another laughing fit.)
After the supplies to grace the children of Fontaine with Teyvat’s largest mass sugar high were complete, they cleaned up in relative silence. The kitchen was lit by lanterns as dishes were put away and boxes of cookies were stacked neatly on the table for transport.
It was late and Clorinde knew she had to leave before she missed the last boat out of Poisson. She had work in the morning and Navia had to prepare for her event, but she ached to stay. Navia also seemed hesitant to let her go, even as she handed Clorinde her hat.
“Will you come to the gala tomorrow? I’m sure the kids would love to meet the strongest duelist in Fontaine,” Navia asked, uncharacteristically meek. Clorinde chuckled with a nod.
“I will try my best.” Navia seemed satisfied with the answer and straightened Clorinde’s jacket. She gave Clorinde a gentle hug, which lasted a touch longer than normal.
“Have a good night, Demoiselle,” Clorinde said, tossing in the title as a bit of a tease. Navia blushed again and Clorinde allowed herself a contented smile as she walked out the door.
“Clorinde.” The duelist turned back to find Navia much closer than expected. Navia leaned in and gave her a fleeting peck on the cheek.
“Goodnight,” Navia grinned. Clorinde flushed once more and walked outside. Her hand reached up to touch where the brief kiss was placed and her skin was nearly tingling with electricity. The door shut softly behind her and she could have sworn she heard the thump of a body against it.
The night air of Poisson was chilly and she wrapped her jacket around her tighter. She hadn’t planned to stay out this late, but she couldn’t complain about her day. Before she had made it too far from the Caspar residence, she heard a voice call out to her.
“Clorinde,” Navia’s father called from the darkness. She realized she had instinctively reached for the pistol on her hip and relaxed.
“Yes, Mr. Callas?” He seemed to be sipping out of a glass, but the facade he had put up earlier was completely dropped. The bags under his eye were pronounced in the moonlight.
“Can I ask you a favor?” Clorinde looked at him and for the first time in her life, since she had known him as a child, she saw fear in his eyes.
“Of course,” Clorinde replied, determined to help the man who took her in as if she was his own ever since she befriended his daughter.
“Take care of her.” Clorinde blinked in surprise, as the question was unexpected.
“Yes sir,” Clorinde responded, confused. Of course she would take care of Navia, but why would he ask that of all things? Callas nodded in thanks at her response, but she could tell that further questioning would not be answered.
He bid her a goodnight and Clorinde left to board the boat back to the Court. She let his request linger in her mind, but it was slowly pushed out as she thought about her next day off.
Tomorrow she had a duel in the morning and afterwards she had to go to Navia’s event. The following week she would have a day off. Maybe she could buy some flowers on the way to Poisson. She could ask Navia to free her schedule on that day and take her out to dinner after a script with the Tabletop Troupe, and after that…
Well, she would see. What was coming was inevitable, but she and Navia would navigate it.
Together.
iv
For two years, Navia tried to avoid the Opera Epiclese. It wasn’t hard, given how busy she was as the President of the Spina di Rosula. Her new workload often made it impossible to catch the shows she adored, though she had seen a few. Avoiding duels was even simpler, as she just left the room wherever one was announced, which allowed her to put certain events out of her mind.
And certain people.
So the mountain of work became a pleasant distraction. There were an endless amount of people to help and countless leads to track down. It seemed like every day she fell into bed exhausted and woke up in the morning just to do it again, all with a smile on her face.
She had friends, new and old, whom she shared meals with. Melus and Silver were steadfast at her side, offering advice and a shoulder to cry on. In time, the color began to come back to the world, even as the water levels started to rise.
And if she came home and cried herself to sleep more often than not? Well, at least she could say she’s productive.
Navia was okay, content even. The gaping hole in her heart was just something everything else needed to grow around.
However, finding herself back in that theater to bear witness to a duel once again was a painful reminder of that cavernous wound.
In hindsight, it was her own fault. She had been tracking down a lead surrounding her father’s case, but had accidentally discovered a small smuggling ring trying to run in Poisson. She was the key witness, as she had watched the exchange of the goods with her own eyes. She had run ahead of the Spina reinforcements and the Gardes, impulsively revealing herself after the deal was done. Luckily, the backup arrived quickly, but some of the key evidence was destroyed in the ensuing fight. Both men were arrested, but the seller decided to argue for his innocence in court. The buyer however decided to duel for his honor instead.
His opponent was quickly announced and Navia left the room before she had to hear it. There was no question of who it would be. She had a day to prepare herself.
They were together when the summons were called, picking at lunch in a cafe in the city. Regardless of the somber mood, the day was sunny and bright, which further rubbed salt in the wound. Navia couldn’t bear to try to eat anything, despite Clorinde’s worried insistence.
Clorinde had been steadfast at her side since the initial arrest, since that fateful moment when Navia saw her father, a gun, and a body. She had stayed the night, holding Navia as she sobbed in her arms until she cried herself to sleep. The next morning, Navia was certain that Clorinde had not slept at all. The shadows under her eyes had only grown, but she dismissed any idea of exhaustion when asked. There was a wall there, one Navia hadn’t seen in almost a decade, but she blamed it on the tension in the air.
It's laughable in hindsight, but the Marechaussee Phantom had sent two messengers to the same place: one for Navia, informing her that her father had chosen a duel for his honor, and the second for Clorinde, to inform her that she was to fight in said duel. Their lunch was abandoned, leaving barely touched sandwiches on plates as they both rushed to the Palais Mermonia.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen her since that day. She had, many times. Mostly as the duelist all but ran in the other direction the second she realized Navia had noticed her.
She hadn’t said a word to her since a day after the duel, leaving Navia alone in her grief. The weeks she spent unable to get out of bed were filled only with static silence. For nearly a month, the only sign of life was a momentary flash of an indigo cape at the funeral, which rapidly melted into the treeline.
After the duel, the distance seemed for the best. Navia was conflicted and tired and upset, and had said some cruel things that she didn’t really mean in her grief. Then, as the initial hurt receded, there was a loneliness that she didn’t know how to cope with. She was surrounded by the support of the Spina, constantly in the company of Silver and Melus, yet she felt so alone.
She wanted her best friend back. Her best friend, who refused to even make eye contact with her anymore. Any attempts from Navia to reach out were ignored or ran away from, leaving her frustrated and upset. For two years, Navia had switched back and forth between anger and hurt, arguing with herself in her head until she found herself back at one nagging question. How could she have just…left?
“Demoiselle?” Melus’s voice called through the door, snapping her out of her internal debate. “Are you ready to depart for the Court?”
Navia rubbed at her eyes, wiping away any leftover moisture. She called back, requesting a moment more. She straightened her hat in the mirror and touched up her makeup, painting on a face of confidence.
“Let’s go,” Navia nodded, and with that one foot out of the door, she was whisked away on a boat, heading for the source of her dread.
They split up upon arrival at the Palais, and maybe that was the first grave error. Clorinde marched towards Neuvillette’s office, eyes steely and focused as she assured Navia she would handle this. Doubt still flickered in Navia when she felt a tremble as the duelist squeezed her hand before she left.
However, Navia was never one for waiting around. She managed to sneak her way past the front desk and into the holding cell area with such little security she could have laughed. The most important government building in Fontaine, and she was able to nearly waltz in to see a prisoner? No wonder Papa had such little faith in the justice system.
Her father was the only person in the block when she found him. He was hunched over on a bench in the cell, head in his hands. His once formal clothing hung loosely on his frame, as if he had rotted away in this cell for decades rather than days. She recoiled at the sight, never having seen the man so…defeated looking.
“Papa?” Navia whispered. His head snapped up furiously, the expression in his eye morphing from surprise to relief and finally ending with something akin to fear.
“Navia,” he hissed, “What are you doing here?” Navia ran to the bars of the cell, ignoring his question entirely.
“What are you doing, Papa? Why would you choose a duel? You’re innocent!” She demanded, unsuccessfully keeping a waver out of her tone. Her father chuckled halfheartedly, but there’s no joy in it.
“I am, my dear Navia. But I must defend my honor.” There was a certain tone in his voice, the one he used when he tried to shield her from the monsters of the real world when she was a child. She knew there was something he was hiding from her. Her father looked at her face, as if trying to memorize it. He held her hand through the bars, his calloused hands cold and clammy.
“Papa, you don’t-” Navia rushed out, before shouting filled the narrow hallway.
“You can’t be in here!” An officer shouted, running over and harshly grabbing Navia by the shoulders.
“Papa!” Navia screamed as her hands were torn apart from her father’s, who could provide her only with a sad smile. In Navia’s memory, that last grin flashed in her mind every time she thought of her final conversation with her father.
“I love you.” Callas spoke his last words to her as she was dragged out of his sight.
After the many years of being in the spotlight, Navia was no stranger to the flash of a Kamera. She had already schooled her expression into one of focus and remained neutral, even as she scanned the crowd of press for a familiar face. Charlotte would undoubtedly be there; the reporter couldn’t resist the temptation of a good duel narrative. She could already picture the headline: ‘Champion Duelist remains undefeated!’
She may have been able to escape Navia’s attempts at a conversation, but she couldn’t avoid the press. It was absurd how many articles were published about the duelist’s day to day life; full pages were dedicated to her lunch order or where she did her grocery shopping. On the odd occasion, Navia would skim the articles, chuckling at some of the mischaracterization that the press promoted about her, painting her as some supernatural being instead of a dedicated warrior. Claims of who she was under that blank expression were a topic of constant discussion. Navia caught herself testifying to her character and was filled with a deep ache in her heart. Did Navia even know the person she had become anymore?
She pushed the thought out of her mind and through the doors of the Opera, leaving the press and their reminders behind.
As a key witness, she was seated in the front row, for ease of access if a trial was to commence. Silver and Melus stood to the side, scanning the theater for anything suspicious. Navia just sat there, wringing her hands, the anticipation threatening to choke her.
Surprisingly, Navia was not arrested for her trespassing. She was manhandled back through the hall to the lobby, yelling the entire way back. When the Garde deposited her in an armchair, he merely tossed her a pitying look before returning to his post.
Navia tried to collect herself, ignoring the stares of the others in the lobby. She marched closer to the Iudex’s office, the debate of trying to break into that as well being quickly dismissed with a disapproving cough from the guard at the desk. She took a slumped seat, resisting the urge to cry once again as she held her face in her hands. Her shaky breaths and the clicking of a typewriter quietly filled the silence, but after a moment, Navia realized she could hear shouting from the direction of the Iudex’s office.
The distance and thick doors prevented her from being able to understand what the voice was saying, but she knew the raised voice belonged to Clorinde. After a moment, the echos quieted once more before the door opened with a bang. Navia rose from her chair as Clorinde stormed down the hall. Something unrecognizable flashed on her features when she spotted Navia waiting, but it passed fleetingly.
“I’m going to speak to your father,” Clorinde rushed out.
“Did Neuvillette say anything?” Navia demanded, resisting the urge to take Clorinde’s hand in her own. Clorinde stared off to the side, clearly trying to formulate a response.
“He said…” Clorinde sighed, her head falling, “That I was specifically requested as his opponent. I’m unable to refuse the duel.” What little hope in Navia that remained sunk to the depths.
“I will speak to him and change his mind,” Clorinde quickly reassured her, placing a gentle hand on Navia’s shoulder. The blonde shook her head.
“He’s resolute, I tried.” Navia tried to choke back the tears that threatened to spill over. Clorinde’s eyes were steel, precision focused on Navia’s face, determination etched into the metal.
“I will make him see reason.” Clorinde briefly squeezed her shoulder and walked past her, where she was waved through to the holding cells by the Garde. Navia sat back down and waited. The phantom of her touch lingered through the fabric, a sensation that would haunt her in the hours to come.
Clorinde was gone for a long time, long enough that Melus had finally arrived and rushed to Navia’s side. She explained everything that had transpired in hushed, sniffling whispers and he listened while nodding along grimly. He stood at her side, staring into the hallway with her as they waited for the duelist’s return.
When Clorinde emerged, she was flanked by Gardes, leading her out of the Palais Mermonia, undoubtedly to the duel.
Navia called to her, but Clorinde could only offer her a despondent glance before that wall was thrown up once more.
The press would later say that the Champion Duelist face was cold and unfeeling as she walked into the opera house. Unfeeling? Navia scoffed.
No, she felt it all, every ounce of guilt and sorrow.
Duty just came first.
With the stomp of the Iudex’s cane, the chatter in the audience ceased.
Navia watched in a daze as the buyer walked onto the stage, clutching a sword in his hand. Subconsciously, she can tell his grip is off already, exposing his lack of experience. Neuvillette stated his name and accused crimes, but she tuned it out, eyes locked on the other end of the stage. She had to remind herself to breathe, but the pounding in her chest made it hard to focus on anything else.
“-and his opponent, Champion Duelist Clorinde.” The click of heels echoed in the silent theater. When she finally appeared from the curtain, cheers erupted from the audience.
“Clorinde.” Navia whispered amidst the uproar, a drop of water in the ocean of sound. Somehow, despite the overwhelming noise, Clorinde’s head whipped to face her.
The first thing Navia noticed, finally getting a good look at her for the first time in two years, was that she was just as beautiful as she remembered. Dark hair framed her serious expression and even her walk could only have been described as elegant. The second was how tired she looked. To the average member of the crown, the duelist looked strong and refined as ever. But to Navia, who had known her for years, she could see the weight of exhaustion on her shoulders. She saw a twelve year old Clorinde, who had spent dawn to dusk drilling herself until her hands were raw and bloodied. She saw the newly dubbed Champion Duelist, pulling all-nighters as she tried to study every instance of case law in Fontaine.
Navia saw the woman who showed up at her door in the rain the day after her father’s death, sleepless and overwhelmed with guilt.
Clorinde looked at Navia for only a moment and then she was gone once again, walking towards the fight. The crowd continued to roar, the sea of sound threatening to drown Navia. Her eyes remained locked on Clorinde.
The duel was over as soon as it began. The man’s lack of skill was evident as Clorinde quickly disarmed him, sending his sword clattering to the stage. Clorinde leaned over him as the man fell backwards, tripping over himself in fear.
“Do you yield?”
“Do you yield?” Clorinde stood still as Papa leaned on his sword with a groan. Clorinde’s eyes were pleading with him, but her father shook his head, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Navia couldn’t hear anything besides the words of the duelists, but she was later told that she was screaming the whole time.
“No.” Her father rose to his feet once again, taking another swing towards Clorinde. She dodged, cutting open a gash in his leg. She was holding back, begging the man with her actions to surrender. Despite his renown and prowess at fighting, he had been out of shape for years. Up against the most renowned Champion Duelist in the nation, he was outmatched and it was plain to see. Navia fought the bile rising in her throat.
In the end, the only cries of pain were from his daughter. The spreading puddle of blood on the stage, now pouring from various wounds, made his bed as he succumbed to his injuries, falling onto the stage.
“Callas Caspar is no longer able to duel. Clorinde is the victor.” Neuvillette declared. Clorinde immediately began calling for medics, but Navia knew it was too late. She sat numbly in her seat, everything moving around her as the world passed her by. The last thing she remembered was the metallic clank of Clorinde’s sword as it fell to the floor, coated in crimson.
The man surrendered. Clorinde’s sword point tilted to the floor as two Gardes took the stage; one to escort the man, one to pick up the fallen sword. Clorinde bowed subtly towards the Iudex, before she turned to exit the stage once more. Navia wanted to call for her, say something before she walked out of her life once again, but the words failed her as the crowd cheered more.
Suddenly, the cheers turned to shouts of alarm and Navia glanced to see the man leaping off the stage, sword in hand once more and aiming for her.
Time slowed to a standstill. In slow motion, Navia helplessly watched as the man swung towards her. There was no doubt his strike would land true, likely cutting through to her heart as she sat. She didn’t need to try very hard to reason out his motive. He was going to jail anyway, he might as well first destroy the woman who would send him there. Melus and Silver were both too far away, even as they rushed to her aid. In her final moments, she had an odd thought: Someone needed to feed her turtle when she’s gone.
The blow never landed.
A flash of light blinded her for a moment and then Clorinde was lunging in front of her, slicing the man down with a single strike. He crumpled to the ground. With a dull thud, his sword fell to the floor as well, stained red. Navia jumped to her feet as Clorinde turned to face her. Clorinde’s eyes rapidly searched Navia for any sign of harm, hand pressed against the growing bloody slash in her own side.
The room fell into chaos as screaming audience members ran from their seats. The body laid on the floor, motionless, as Gardes rushed towards him. Distantly, Navia heard the Iudex call for order, but she was too focused on the blood dripping from Clorinde. The stain was already growing, causing the black fabric of her uniform to appear even darker. She leaned on her sword, breaths coming heavy and hard as the pain flowed into the wound. For some odd reason, the duelist had a small smile on her face, almost as if she was satisfied with herself.
Navia attempted to grab her, to hold her, to do anything , but she was stuck in shock. Even her voice failed her as a scream died in her throat. She was frozen, unable to reach out or say a word. She could only stare in horror as blood dribbled down her side, painting a crimson line down her leg.
And then Clorinde limped away as Silver and Melus reached her, pulling her away from the scene. It was only as she walked away that Navia was released from the shock and she began screaming, calling for Clorinde. She disappeared into the surging crowd, vanishing from sight. Navia’s two guards dragged her away, merely grunting as she clawed at them.
They put her down in the lobby, where further swarms of Gardes flooded the evacuated Opera. A few were sent to check on Navia and make sure she wasn’t hurt, but the minutes passed in a blur as worry clouded her thoughts. Melus answered most of their questions as Navia regained her composure, the rage growing in her chest. She rose from the couch she had been confined to, marching towards the closest captain she could find, ignoring Silver’s protests.
“Where is she?” Navia demanded, towering over the Garde. The man looked confused for a split moment as she drew his attention, tearing him away from giving orders to his subordinates.
“Miss President,” the captain began, but Navia began backing him into a corner. She knew she was being unreasonable, that her impatience was uncalled for and potentially mildly threatening, but no part of her cared.
“Where is Clorinde?” Navia asked, her voice low and severe. The captain, not a complete and utter fool, answered quickly.
“She boarded an aquabus back to the city directly after leaving the courtroom.” Navia did not spare him a second glance as she pushed through the crowd to the door.
“Demoiselle!” Melus called, but he was caught in the sea of bodies and was swept away. She’d apologize to him later, swear to stop being so reckless for the hundredth time, but pure adrenaline was pushing her forward to the aquabus. The road was packed, so she cut through the grass, running towards the station. She boarded, cutting off dozens of panicked others as she slapped a fistful of mora into the driver’s hand, demanding an immediate departure. The poor driver, after a single glance at Navia, began pulling away from the dock as those waiting jeered in anger. The few other people on the bus had the grace to look on in quiet bewilderment as Navia aggressively paced back and forth.
As the adrenaline wore off, she began to come to her senses, reason finally working its way into her thoughts. Melus and Silver would be sick with worry; she didn’t even tell them where she was headed.
Where was she headed? The answer was obvious. Clorinde must have returned to her home, why else would she have gone back to the city? The medics were already available, as always during a duel. She would have been treated immediately, why wouldn’t she go to them? Worst case scenarios popped into her head, flooding her mind with images of Clorinde collapsing in the streets, of her going home to die in her own bed, of her staggering into an alleyway, her body found days later.
It struck her coldly that she would never get to talk to her again.
Navia took out more mora from her pocket, her heart beating along to the rapid pace of the accelerating engine.
She didn't wait for the aquabus to stop, hopping off as soon as she could make the jump. Passengers waiting on the dock gasped in surprise, but she was already sprinting towards the street.
The path she took was practiced and instinctual, despite going unused in her memory for the past two years. She couldn’t forget the way to Clorinde’s apartment any more than she could forget the way to her own. The streets are a museum of memories, as flashes of moments play in her head. She turned left at the jewelry store where Clorinde bought her a bracelet and made a right at her favorite cafe for a late lunch. Citizens played the part of background chatter, filling the seats that surrounded them for years. The people on the streets were clockwork puppets, acting out a play of a life they once performed together.
And then Navia was standing there on her doorstep, fist pounding on the door, and she realized she had no idea what she was going to say or what she was even doing there. She hadn’t spoken to her in two years and now she was at her door, worried out of her mind and furious.
Anxiety began to gnaw at her the longer she went unanswered, but one glimmer caught her eye. There was a single light on, which betrayed Clorinde’s occupancy dimly through the closed curtain. She was home.
A few more beats of silence passed before Navia could hear the pad of footsteps approach the door.
The door swung open.
Navia knew who it was from the rap of knuckles against the wood, cutting through the drum of rain on the roof. The cruel part of her wanted to make her wait, to leave her on the doorstep in the downpour, letting the cold soak through her until she’s begging at the door. Every other piece of her gave the resolve to get out of bed and open it, revealing a pathetic sight.
Clorinde was standing slouched in the rain, guilt dripping off of her like the drops of water. There was no umbrella in hand, just a sheathed short sword that she held out, hand trembling.
“I’m sorry.” Clorinde pushed the sword into her hands. Navia let it fall to the ground.
“No.” Navia’s voice was cold and detached. Clorinde’s face didn’t even twitch. Anger filled her veins as she began yelling.
“No, you’re not sorry. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have walked into that duel. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have walked out of that duel.” Clorinde flinched, the implications cutting into her like knives. That cruel part flared up again, satisfied at finally receiving some kind of reaction. Navia continued, unbothered if all of Poisson heard her words.
“Yet you’re standing here, and he’s gone, and you think you have the right to apologize?” Navia could only see red, even as she blinked back hot tears. Clorinde remained in the door, taking every bullet. The brim of her hat cast shadows over her face, hiding her emotions from Navia.
“So? Answer me!” Navia shouted, voice cracking. Clorinde’s eyes had lost any shine that once glowed within them. She stared at the ground for a moment, before taking a breath and looking Navia in her eyes. The only thing she could find in them was sorrow. Regret immediately overtook the anger and Navia wished she could take back her words.
But it was too late.
“I did my duty to Mr. Callas as his opponent.” Clorinde’s voice was clinical and unfamiliar, like she was testifying. Her face was steeled once more, but the shivering of her shoulders betrayed her, shaking raindrops down around her.
“I will not hurt you any more. If you need me, call for me and I will aid you.” Clorinde finished. She turned, allowing herself a final glance, before she ran into the hazy darkness, leaving Navia truly alone.
Navia called out for her, asking her to wait and come back, but there was no response. She was gone too.
Navia stared through the open door until the chill of the night cut through her clothes. Numbly, she picked up the sword. There was no note, no inscription, just a simple aged weapon. Part of her could have sworn she had seen it before, but the fog in her brain coated her memories.
She retreated to her bed, leaving the sword on her nightstand and let herself cry, falling asleep to the sound of the rain and blissfully losing consciousness.
Clorinde at least had the decency to be surprised. The utterly baffled look on her face and dropped jaw would have made Navia snort in amusement if she wasn’t seething. Clorinde’s mouth opened and closed silently, before she opened it once more. Her face, somewhat pale from blood loss, began to turn a light shade of pink and that was when Navia realized she was nearly shirtless. Her torn and bloodied white work shirt was unbuttoned, revealing her athletic black bra and loosely covering the wound. She had even changed into a comfortably fitting pair of shorts instead of the rest of her uniform, leaving the bloody trail down her leg bright against her skin.
A dog barked from down the street, snapping Navia out of her accidental (but blatant) staring.
“Um,” Navia managed to squeak out, before shoving Clorinde back in the apartment and slamming the door behind her. Clorinde backed away towards the kitchen, the overhead light illuminating her surprise. The shock of the ambush didn’t last long before gates were closed once more.
“Why are you here?” Clorinde asked cooly, as if she hadn’t just thrown herself in front of a sword for Navia. Like Navia was a solicitor and not the person who knew her best in the world.
Used to know her best in the world.
Was that what they were now? Had they gone from soulmates to strangers, fated to watch each other pass and do nothing?
Navia didn’t answer. Instead, she looked around the room, finding a capsule in time. The apartment hadn’t changed much in two years, even if they had. The decorations were still sparse, mainly just bookcases filled with legal texts and the odd award. A plant sat on a table next to the couch, one that Navia had bought for her shortly after the move, claiming that she needed some kind of greenery to liven the place up. All over the apartment there were traces of her own presence, in the blankets she gifted, in the books she loaned, and in the picture of them hanging right on the wall.
She took a step towards it. Navia knew the exact day the picture was taken, on Clorinde’s birthday. Her father had taken it, capturing their toothy grins as Clorinde blew out the ten candles on the cake. That night became an impromptu sleepover when Clorinde’s master never came to pick her up, abandoning her protege. The picture was framed, but dust had collected on the edges, unlike every other surface in the room. It had been untouched for a long time now, as if the owner couldn’t bear to take it down, but couldn’t think about it either.
Navia’s head whipped back around as she heard a body thump down. Clorinde had slumped into a chair. Navia gasped, rushing towards her and dropping down next to her.
“I’m fine,” Clorinde protested automatically.
“Like hell you are,” Navia said, smacking her hands away as she pulled the edge of the shirt back. There had been an obvious attempt at patching the wound. She knew what she was doing, but the wound was at an awkward angle. The patch job was shoddier than it should have been, leaving her back improperly bandaged. Dried blood still clung to her skin, painting it rusty and dark.
“Where are the bandages? Did you even clean this?” Navia demanded, rising to her feet to check the counter. Bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol sat next to a washcloth and she reached for them.
“Navia.” A shiver ran down her spine. She faced Clorinde once again and oh, how had she gone this long without hearing her name on her lips? Clorinde looked at her reverently, laid bare without her hat or sword.
Clorinde glanced down at the floor, before taking a shaky breath.
“You should leave.”
White hot anger narrows Navia’s vision. She snatched the supplies off of the counter and began ranting.
“You throw yourself in front of a sword to save me, after avoiding me for the last two years, then stalk off like nothing ever happened, like you don’t even know me, and expect that to be okay?” Clorinde, for her part, didn’t stop Navia as she began to peel back the poorly wrapped bandages. The wound was long but shallower than she had initially assumed from the sheer amount of blood. However, the bleeding had mostly stopped. She dabbed the alcohol-damp washcloth over the edges, slowly cleaning away the dried blood.
“What hard-headed fool doesn’t just go to the medics, instead of just marching home to deal with it herself, and deal with it badly? What kind of idiotic-” Navia stopped herself, thrown into a remembrance of a similar moment years ago, when they were just kids getting in trouble. She paused her ministrations, looking up at the faint silver line in Clorinde’s eyebrow. The scar had faded over the years, but the mark it had left was permanent.
Clorinde had left a mark on her soul, no matter how scarred and pale it had become. A tattoo she couldn’t erase.
Navia’s gaze fell and Clorinde was staring at her, just like she did those years ago when she thought Navia wouldn't notice. She looked at her like she was etching the lines of her face into stone, carving the memory of her presence by hand. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and deeply, deeply sad.
Navia cleared her throat, averting her gaze back to the wound.
“Don’t look at me like that. You don’t get to do that, not when you left,” Navia whispered, voice nearly inaudible. Clorinde cleared her throat, turning away.
“I’m sorry,” Clorinde replied. Her hands laid in her lap, clasped together in a voiceless prayer. Her gloves were gone and part of Navia yearned to reach out and take one, feel the skin and the bones underneath.
Silence coated them once more, tense and heavy, as Navia wrapped the wound with bandages. Clorinde jolted acutely every time Navia’s fingers grazed her skin, burned by the touch.
“Why did you do it?” Her words were stronger than she felt. Clorinde hesitated.
“It was your father’s final wish for me to protect you.” Navia wasn’t surprised, even if it was a cop-out answer. Of course Papa would ask something like that. Still, her heart cooled.
“So you’ve decided to be the executioner of his will? It was out of your sick sense of duty?” Navia grilled her, finally rising to her feet. Clorinde faltered as Navia loomed over her.
“No, I-” and she rose as well, turning to face away once more, unable to look Navia in the eye.
“ I couldn’t watch you get hurt. If I can watch over you, then you can live your life, safe from harm.” Clorinde began to put away the medical supplies on the counter, reaching for the excess items.
“Then how could you leave?” Clorinde stopped, frozen. Navia felt a tear slip from her eye as she waited. The glow of the kitchen light above Clorinde’s head resembled the harsh spotlights of the opera, the shackling beams that fell upon the accused.
Clorinde’s head fell.
“It's for the best.” She whispered. The tears were hot and bitter, blurring Navia’s vision. She didn’t know what to say.
I miss you.
I need you.
I love you.
“You don’t get to decide that. You were supposed to be there,” Navia’s voice cracked. Her fists were clenched, shaking. The truth burned in her throat. She took an unsteady breath.
“I wanted you to be there.” Navia sniffled, finally admitting what she had tried to hide from herself for so long.
Clorinde locked eyes with her. The focus was dizzying, her mouth set in a hard line.
“You shouldn’t.” Clorinde was assertive, finally standing straight. Navia stared her down. How dare she? Navia felt like she was being treated like a petulant child, whining because she had to go to school instead of not being rightfully upset at her best friend abandoning her during the worst moments of her life. A piece of her increasingly fragile resolve broke inside of her.
“Forget me, Navia. It’s for the best.”
The dam which held back waves of anger and betrayal crumbled. Navia stepped forward, backing her into the counter. Her voice trembled.
“You haunt me. You haunt me like a damn ghost, hiding in the shadows and running away at the first glance. You’re seeped into every fiber of my life, every memory, every moment, and I’m supposed to forget you?” Navia’s frame trembled, shuddering with every word. Clorinde was emotionless, face blank and jaw set.
“How cruel must you be to take one more thing from me? Did it all mean nothing to you?” The silence hung between them, the pointed sword threatening to behead them. The true question balanced there, unspoken.
Do I mean nothing to you?
A flicker of light flashed in Clorinde’s eyes. The glint of a teardrop rolled down her face as she stood motionless.
“It meant everything to me.” Hope swelled in Navia’s chest, finally seeing a glow at the end of the tunnel. She took a step forward.
“And that’s why you should leave.”
The floor dropped from under her feet and Navia fell. Her sobs were dry; she had nothing left. What was left of her blurred vision narrowed. She leveled her gaze to Clorinde, aiming to bruise with every word.
“Fine,” Navia’s tone was cold and detached. “Then stay out of my life. I don’t want your protection, I don’t want you. ” Clorinde looked away, hiding every slash once again. Fine.
Navia took one more glimpse at her, drenched in guilt, before she turned and walked out of the door.
She got about three steps out of the door before the tears returned with a vengeance. The sun was sadistically bright, beating down on her in some kind of cruel joke. She cried as she ran as far away from the apartment as she could, dodging confused passersby. At the end of the street, two familiar figures were visible through the haze. She heard one of them shout for her and ran into their arms, collapsing.
Melus and Silver never asked what happened that day. There was no lecture, no reminders to be less reckless.
And if they noticed the wilted bouquet of flowers that appeared on Navia’s windowsill, they said nothing even as the petals rotted, untouched.
v
Dusk had begun to blanket itself over the world, bidding Teyvat a restful sleep. The Devorator was gone, its phantom vanishing into the night. Clorinde had left the church and its demons behind, striding forward with purpose.
Stepping into something new had never relieved her quite like this before.
“ Come home tonight, ” Navia had whispered in her ear earlier that evening as they left the hidden cave. She had stepped away a moment after, acting like she had said nothing, betrayed only by the pink in her cheeks. Navia had stared ahead, plunging into a lively debate with Furina about weapon choice. There was no indication she had caught Clorinde’s nod, but she didn’t need to.
How could she say no?
Navia was waiting on the dusty path ahead, waving goodbye to Lyney, who had started the trek back to the Court. Navia didn’t look at her until the young magician was out of sight, hidden behind a hill.
“Ready?” Navia asked. Her face still held a pink tinge from the reminder of her words during her summon, barely visible in the pale moonlight. Something nagged in the back of Clorinde’s mind, but she pushed it aside. Clorinde hummed in affirmation and the two set off for Poisson.
Even in the early summer of Fontaine, the nights held a slight chill due to the breeze off of the waters. They walked side by side, less than an arm’s length away. The walk was quiet, filled only with the hum of the night and the flow of the river. The silence between them was comfortable, unlike the tense air that had filled the beginning of the past few months.
“Clorinde,” Navia’s voice cut through the chatter of the crowd. Without even thinking about it, Clorinde turned on her heel towards the call. Navia was looking at her, clutching her umbrella in her hands. Spina members stood behind her, a half-step back in order to give their boss some semblance of privacy.
The opera house was still buzzing after the exciting climax to such a high profile case. The serial disappearances had been resolved and Callas Caspar’s name had finally been cleared. Clorinde was… shocked that Navia had asked her to testify in order to help her case. She thought that Navia had finally given up on her, leaving her to her guilt, but instead Navia had trusted her with helping her case. Clorinde’s testimony gave her a chance to make her argument. In the end, Navia was able to stall enough for the crucial evidence of the real killer to arrive, proving her father innocent.
The result was a relief. Guilt had gnawed away at her since that duel. She knew Callas was innocent, but he had begged her to duel him, claiming it was for Navia’s sake. Before the duel, he had entrusted her to protect his daughter, her best friend, even though he knew that he would die at her hand. Clorinde rarely regretted the results of a duel, but Callas’s death would be one that she would repent for the rest of her life. His innocence finally being proved to the public was a weight lifted from her soul. She could have gone on, letting Navia live happily with the joy of success without her for the rest of her life, if it meant Navia’s happiness.
But Navia was standing, staring at her with a nervous look in her eyes. The last time they had spoken, Navia had accused her of stalking. Before that, she had sent Navia away more than a year ago, not wanting to harm her further.
Despite it all, Navia was before her, no longer glowering.
“Clorinde,” Navia repeated, with a slight waver, “Will you come to dinner with me?”
A beat passed.
Clorinde’s jaw dropped.
Navia continued, seemingly unaware of the shock Clorinde was stuck in.
“I want to thank you for your testimony. It… meant a lot to me. So, will you come?” Navia’s eyes were pleading, apologetic. Clorinde’s first instinct was to reject the invitation, run from her once more. She would only bring ruin to Navia’s life again. If it had been a month ago, Clorinde would have said no.
Yet, Clorinde found herself nodding. This was Navia’s olive branch, extended even after everything Clorinde had done. She would be a fool to turn it down again. A secondary reason also rested in her heart. She almost watched Navia die just a short time ago; she couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Over the last three years, the ache for her best friend had only grown sharply. She missed her deeply and she didn’t want to.
Maybe she was finally able to admit that she wanted to be back at Navia’s side once more. Maybe it was time to let herself be selfish for once.
“How about tomorrow? Hotel Debord?” Clorinde heard herself suggest. She sounded much more collected than she felt, thankfully. A smile grew on Navia’s face, sending a flutter to Clorinde’s heart. She hadn’t seen a grin of Navia’s directed towards her in three years.
Archons, she missed it.
“Six o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.” Navia agreed, slowly being accosted by various reporters that had noticed her presence. Clorinde nodded.
Clorinde took one lingering glance as the flash of kameras began to illuminate Navia. The sparkle in her eyes- one that Clorinde had loved and then lost- was back, twinkling in the spotlight.
She melted into the crowd, making her way back to the city. She made it about three steps in her door before the realization truly struck her.
She was having dinner with Navia.
Tomorrow.
She tore her closet apart looking for a suitable outfit, haphazardly tossing clothes to the side. Nothing too familiar, nothing too casual, but no uniform either. After about an hour of debate, she nearly considered giving Chiori a rush order and suffering the consequences before she gave up and selected a plain navy shirt, a jacket, and dress pants. After all, it was only dinner.
With Navia.
Who she had not had dinner with in… a long time.
There were very few times in her life that the Champion Duelist could have been considered as “panicked.” As a duelist, she regularly faced her own mortality and was unfazed. However, after an incredibly restless night and three full hours of wearing down her carpet with pacing well before she even had to get ready to leave, “panicked” would be an apt term for her state of being.
Questions swam in her head, asking what topics were safe, what was the tone of the evening, what should she order? A fleeting worry crossed her mind that Navia wouldn’t even show up, but that was unlike her. She always kept her word, even if she did not wish to attend something.
Most importantly, what would Clorinde even say to her after all this time? Navia had said in court that she didn’t want Clorinde’s apology or guilt, but then what could she give her?
The question nagged in her mind as she got dressed, straightening her hat on her head as she walked out the door nearly two hours before they were to meet. It glared at her as she walked between two different flower stores, trying to find the perfect bouquet. It sank into her stomach as she clutched the flowers, sat on a bench outside of the hotel forty-five minutes before they were supposed to meet.
The question vanished from her mind when Navia arrived a few moments later, waving goodbye to Melus and Silver as she made her way to Clorinde. She looked elegant in the effortless way she always did, the gold highlights of her dress shimmering in the sunlight.
Clorinde stood, nodding in greeting to Navia. Navia kept her distance, not offering a hug as she would have when they were younger. Contrarily, she lingered silently. After an awkward beat, Clorinde held out the bouquet, breaking the silence.
“These are for you.” Navia took the flowers, lifting them up to her nose. A small grin graced her face before it was wiped clean once more, leaving a neutral facade. She was trying to keep her guard up, something Clorinde couldn’t blame her for.
“Thank you,” Navia said, before tilting her head towards the door, “Shall we go in?” Clorinde nodded and held the door as they walked into the hotel.
Neither of them mentioned it wasn’t even 5:30.
They were seated quickly, thankfully to a secluded area of the upper level of the restaurant. The hostess’s eyes widened at the realization of who each of them were and even more so that they were together. As Champion Duelist and the head of the Spina, both of them were notable on their own, but given their public history and the recent high-profile case, Clorinde hoped the hostess wasn’t calling the Steambird after she gave them their menus.
Thankfully, the waiter seemed to have materialized as soon as they opened the menus. Clorinde, prepared as she was, ordered an old favorite that she hadn’t had in a while. Navia ordered something she had gotten many times in the past as well, along with a bottle of wine.
For a moment, it felt like old times.
One very brief moment.
The idle chatter of the hotel filled the silence between them as they both stared into their water glasses. Clorinde took a sip, racking her brain for something to say.
“So,” Clorinde cleared her throat, “How has work been?” She cringed at herself the moment the question left her mouth. It was the sort of question you ask a casual acquaintance, not someone you knew better than yourself for years. Did she even know Navia anymore? Did she even have the right to?
“Fine.” Navia replied quickly, but as soon as she spoke, she winced, maybe realizing the harshness of rebuttal. Silence fell once more. They had a brief moment of respite when the waiter returned with a basket of rolls and the wine.
Navia took a long drink from her glass.
“Crazy weather we’ve been having, right? So much rain.” Navia provided. Clorinde floundered for some kind of answer, but could only give a nod in agreement. Navia looked almost… disappointed. Clorinde’s heart began to race. They were never the type for small talk.
However, they had been splintered and cracked for three full, painstakingly long years. This reunion was something that needed to be worked for, and Clorinde would have done any amount of work.
“Yes, the rainy season truly has been quite long, hasn’t it?” Clorinde replied.
Navia took another drink of her wine.
Clorinde picked at a roll.
Maybe they had been ripped apart beyond recognition. There was no salvaging something that’s dead and three years in the grave.
Destroyed by Clorinde’s hands.
When all seemed lost, a watery laugh cut through the silence.
“What are we even doing?” Navia asked, finally looking Clorinde in the eyes. What were they doing? They were dancing around anything that truly mattered, letting discomfort speak for them.
Clorinde took a deep inhale.
“It appears we’ve forgotten our table manners. I’m burying my nerves in bread, personally.” Clorinde took another bite of her roll. The joke was bad. It wasn’t even funny.
Yet Navia, mid-sip of water, nearly snorted the liquid out of her nose. Clorinde thought she was choking and leaned towards her to make sure she was okay, but Navia began giggling. In the middle of the Hotel Debord, the respected boss of the Spina di Rosula began laughing, nearly doubling over. Clorinde was overcome with the contagiousness of her chuckle and began to lose it herself. The few people around shot them with increasingly dirty looks.
After far too long to be considered polite, the pair finally composed themselves.
“You, nervous? Why, I ought to call the Steambird,” Navia teased, clearly relaxed by the admission. They had both been trying to keep fortifications up, when maybe all they needed was a dash of vulnerability.
“And risk them hounding you for another scoop on the disappearances case? Please, Miss President, don’t make me laugh.” Clorinde replied, hoping the familiarity wasn’t too soon.
Navia grinned and her worries subsided. They would be okay. It may take them a lifetime, but they would be okay. There was no resisting the pull of gravity.
“It seems we're at a stalemate. I propose a toast,” Navia flourished her glass of wine in the air.
“A toast?” Clorinde tilted her head.
“To…reunions and new chapters,” Navia clinked her glass with Clorinde’s. Clorinde found it was hard to wipe the smile from her face for the rest of the meal.
After the floodgates opened, the conversation flowed uninhibited. The pair spent so long talking that the poor wait staff had to politely tell them they were closing.
Clorinde couldn't help but slip a bit more mora on the table in addition to Navia's tip, substantial as it was.
The night air was crisp, biting at the exposed skin of Clorinde’s neck. She wished that they could have just stayed at the table, talking for the rest of the night, but they both had work in the morning. Instead, they stood outside of the hotel, both hesitant to leave. The fear that they would walk away and whatever tentative reconciliation they had formed over the course of the evening would snap paralyzed her, rooting her in place.
However, she couldn’t just ignore the shiver in Navia’s shoulders. She slipped her jacket off of her shoulders, handing it to Navia.
“Get home safe,” Clorinde said. She didn't offer to walk her home. Navia didn't ask her to.
Baby steps.
“Thank you,” Navia threw the jacket over her bare shoulders, but the look in her eyes conveyed that she meant it for more than just the jacket.
Navia took a step back, turning to go, but paused.
“Clorinde?”
“Yes?”
“I enjoyed this. We should get lunch sometime this week.” Navia didn't look her in the eye, but the way she pulled Clorinde’s jacket around her shoulders said every silent word.
“Yeah. That'd be nice.” Clorinde nodded as Navia gave her one small wave.
Clorinde waved back, smiling to herself. She was silent until Navia had disappeared from her sight, before she made her own way back home.
“I missed you too.” Clorinde whispered, with only the stars as her witness.
After that initial break in the dam, they slowly came back together, like waves creeping onto the shoreline. It had been difficult, with memories just below the surface acting as a painful reminder of the festering wounds. Despite how much it hurt to acknowledge them, they didn’t avoid it.
Clorinde had apologized many times since that first dinner. At first, Navia had recognized it, but refused to comment on it. She didn’t want Clorinde’s apology, even if she wanted her back in her life. Forgiveness was hard, and Clorinde didn’t expect it to be given. She was just happy to be at her side, no matter what form that may take.
However, Navia had never been very good at staying mad at Clorinde, even when her plans were foiled in their tabletop games, and this was no exception.
After the rain had stopped and the flood waters had receded, the nation was thrown into a joyful recovery. Miraculously, the damages had remained minimal, though a sneaking suspicion regarding a certain Iudex’s influence in that matter remained in Clorinde’s mind.
She had spent most of the day helping citizens to dry land, bandaging minor wounds, and rescuing the odd stray cat from trees. Along with the emotional stress of Lady Furina’s trial, Clorinde was, for lack of a better term, utterly exhausted. However, one aspect of her duty to Fontaine was still unfulfilled.
Clorinde returned to the Opera to find Lady Furina, but the building was empty. There was no sign of the false archon around the area, even with an extensive search. She was prepared to leave the area, return to the city and continue looking, until she heard footsteps on the stone behind her.
Clorinde whipped around to find the Iudex himself strolling towards her. Oddly, his eyes had a red tinge around them, as if he had been crying.
“I take it you are looking for Lady Furina?” Neuvillette asked.
“Yes sir.” Neuvillette shook his head.
“There is no need. She is in a secure location, recovering from this…ordeal.” Clorinde nodded sharply.
“Then, if you have no requests for me, I shall take my leave.” Clorinde prepared to turn on her heel to return to the city and collapse in her bed for as long as possible, but the Iudex cleared his throat.
“Actually, I heard Miss Caspar has been asking about your whereabouts. It may be best to… ease her concerns before you retire for the night. I believe she may be near the Steambird office right now.” Neuvillette often communicated more than the meaning of just the words he uttered. Navia was likely not calmly sitting at the Steambird waiting to hear from Clorinde.
That was…not her style.
She bid Neuvillette a good night and began a brisk pace back to the city.
While not every crack in their friendship had been fully repaired, they had come back together even stronger ever since their reconciliation. Most days off were presumed to be spent together, whether that was playing tabletop games or trying new restaurants. Even after everything, Navia still cared about her. Navia had been rightfully distraught after Silver and Melus’s deaths. Clorinde had tried to be a shoulder to cry on, even though Navia still maintained some of her emotional distance. Still, the idea of losing one more person…
Clorinde walked a bit quicker towards the Steambird.
The streets of the city were still in chaos, as recovery efforts were still underway. Despite the late hour, it seemed half of Fontaine was on the streets, celebrating and embracing that the prophecy was wrong. The festivities were heartwarming, but pushing through the crowded streets made her path more difficult. Still, she pressed on, weaving through the masses with practiced agility.
Thankfully, the area in front of the Steambird office was surprisingly clear. She spotted a telltale hat just as she heard the argument coming from the same direction.
“-kind of newspaper has zero news on one of the city’s most publicized figures? You follow her around every time she goes grocery shopping, but you have no idea where the Champion Duelist is during a crisis ?” Navia’s hands were gesturing wildly as she contended with the poor editor, who looked like they had been having this conversation for far too long.
Clorinde jogged towards the pair, stopping a few paces behind Navia.
“Navia,” Clorinde called breathlessly. Navia whipped around to the sound of her name, her eyes focused.
Clorinde began to smile, but braced herself as Navia marched towards her, a severe look set on her face.
However, the only blow that came was the force of Navia’s embrace, nearly tackling her to the ground. Clorinde stumbled in her shock as Navia hugged her fiercely.
“Wh-” Clorinde began to ask some kind of question, but Navia’s sniffle cut through her confusion.
“I was so worried that something had happened to you. Nobody knew where you were,” Navia mumbled into her shoulder. Clorinde could feel the tears dampen her shirt and her heart panged.
“I went back to the Opera after the rescue operation was complete.” Clorinde slowly returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around Navia’s waist.
“You scared me.”
Clorinde held Navia tighter.
“I’m sorry.”
Navia pulled back, her eyes red. Clorinde feared that she had said something wrong, but Navia pressed their foreheads together.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. Their breath mingled in the air between them.
“I forgive you.”
The deeper meaning enveloped them, lifting a weight from Clorinde’s guilty heart.
They swayed in the night air, oblivious to the world around them, allowing themselves a hard-fought moment of respite.
“You okay?”
Clorinde finally snapped out of her reminisce to the sound of Navia’s call. The other woman’s brows were furrowed in concern, staring at Clorinde as they waited for the ferryman to finish preparing for the short trip to Poisson. Clorinde realized she had not said a word since they left the rest of the group.
“Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” Clorinde nodded. Navia looked like she wanted to say something, but the ferryman cut in, informing them that he was ready to depart. They boarded and cast off from the shore, listening to the rush of the river.
The boat was cramped and the pair squished together on the single passenger bench towards the back. Every time they hit a wave, their knees brushed together, sending a shiver down Clorinde’s spine. Navia’s hands rested on her knees, just inches away, and some traitorous part of Clorinde ached to reach out and take it. In the end, her self control won out.
After everything they had been through, Clorinde was scared. She was terrified of shattering the carefully reconstructed bonds between them. They had spent months painstakingly stitching up scars, repairing the damage, one uncomfortable conversation at a time. Forgiveness had been granted, but that took months of apologies and improvement, as she attempted to right her wrongs by staying by Navia’s side and being there, like she should have been in the first place.
However, things had irreversibly changed between them ever since that duel. While Clorinde may have yearned for Navia for the last three years, she refused to assume that Navia had felt the same. Their friendship itself had been shattered and regaining Navia’s trust even in that regard had been hard won. If she confessed, it could cut through those ties once more, tearing apart the fabric of who they were. What if changing their relationship was the death of them?
How could she deserve that kind of love after everything she had done?
They were finally in a good place. What right did Clorinde have to let her feelings come in the way of their friendship?
Still, the words Navia’s summon swam through her mind, endorsing self-indulgent daydreams of what could be and what it meant. She was lost in thought, replaying Navia’s blush when asked about it again and again. They may have been different, but Navia still meant everything to her after all this time. She ached to reach out, but the fear buried deep inside her fought against her desires. Yet, hope grew in her heart, dangerously close to an edge.
She was pulled from the precipice of a conclusion by their docking at the shore of Poisson. She helped Navia depart, steadying her as she stepped out of the boat. Navia rewarded her with a small grin as thanks, leading her into the town.
Poisson was asleep when they arrived and they were greeted only by the odd dockhand, still cleaning up after the end of a day. They waved enthusiastically to the pair and Navia waved back, familiar with everyone in the city. Clorinde was just thankful that they had finally stopped staring at her every time she set foot near Poisson, like some kind of phantom. After the first two months, the dropped jaws and double takes had gotten old and somewhat mortifying, even if Navia was mildly entertained.
Navia helped her down into the cavern that housed the city, offering a hand to steady her, repaying Clorinde’s earlier assistance. However, instead of letting go once Clorinde had righted herself on solid ground, she merely kept her loose grip on Clorinde’s hand as they made their way to her home. Clorinde’s heart stuttered in her chest and she hoped her expression didn’t betray her. Navia kept speaking nonchalantly, updating Clorinde about recent developments in Poisson. Housing construction projects were underway and new citizens had already moved in. Clorinde listened to her best effort, but was honestly too busy feeling the softness and warmth in her hand, trying to still her beating heart.
Regrettably, Navia dropped her hand when she went to open the door, letting them both into the house, and Clorinde mourned the warmth.
They each kicked off their heels, wandering towards the kitchen as Navia turned on the lights. Clorinde had been here since their reconciliation, but looking around continued to remind her of days long past, when their worries were about what candy they would have for dessert. Still, she hadn't spent the night in years.
“I know it's late, but do you want a snack? I made some snickerdoodles the other day,” Navia asked, already reaching towards the cookie jar. Clorinde hummed in agreement, leaning back against the . edge of the sink.
Navia handed her a cookie and she took a bite, savoring its taste in her mouth. They ate in silence until Navia let out a small giggle, her hand over her mouth.
“What?” Clorinde asked, confused. She reached a hand to her own mouth, trying to brush away any crumbs that may have stuck to her face.
Navia shook her head, swallowing the cookie that was in her mouth.
“Do you remember when I volunteered to make all those cookies?” The memory clicked for Clorinde and she had to fight to not choke on the snickerdoodle in her mouth. That day had been utterly absurd, even though the event they were for was an absolute success. Navia’s towering pile of treats likely had set a national record and the reminder of the sheer amount of dishes they had to wash afterwards almost made her shudder.
The sudden flash of what else had happened sent an actual shiver down her spine, as she realized they were in the same place where they had almost kissed all those years ago. From the dawning blush on Navia’s face, it seemed she realized it at the exact same time.
Clorinde attempted to hide the growing warmth in her own face as she took another cookie.
Navia cleared her throat.
“Alright, something has been bothering you all evening. I think it's time to spill; What’s the matter?” Navia asked, leaving no room for escape. Clorinde sighed softly, looking her in the eye. Navia always looked at her with so much… care.
“I know you didn’t want to talk about it in front of the others,” Clorinde began, and it seemed like Navia already knew where she was going with it. “-but I’ve been thinking about your summon, what you said. It really meant a lot to me and I guess I’m just…glad that we’ve been able to mend things between us.” Clorinde’s gaze flickered to the floor, suddenly bashful at saying it aloud.
Navia smiled and the embarrassment from earlier was gone, shields lowered without an audience. She twisted her hands, looking like she had something to say.
“What happened to not making me repeat it?” she teased, stepping closer to Clorinde. Clorinde chuckled, but let her continue. Navia placed a hand on her shoulder, running it down her arm until she took her hand.
“You are the best friend I’ll ever know.” Navia’s eyes shone brightly in the dimly lit kitchen. For some reason, Clorinde was surprisingly calm, a stark difference to how she felt for most of the evening.
“I don’t regret meeting you, even after everything we’ve been through, because I will never regret your presence in my life. Even if,” and she looked away, obviously hiding something in her words, “our relationship… changes, you’re my best friend and I don’t want to live without you. That’s something that will never change.”
Clorinde searched her eyes, and Navia had said something without saying it. These feelings that Clorinde had shoved deep inside of herself, that she’s been terrified of ever since they began repairing who they were, that she’s felt unworthy of, were threatening to spill over. But for once, that fear was gone, along with the resistance to not say it.
After everything they had been through, every bruise, every scrape, every painstakingly healed scar, maybe it was okay for Clorinde to want this, to want her.
Oh.
Oh.
It was okay to love and let herself be loved in return.
Navia licked her thumb, rubbing it against Clorinde’s cheek.
“You had a scratch,” Navia whispered, slowly leaning in closer. Clorinde reached up to feel the mark, but Navia’s hand was still there, holding her face. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized it was likely shrapnel from the Devorator, but she was too focused on the proximity, holding her breath as Navia’s lips brushed against the scratch.
“All better,” she murmured.
Navia had always been there to bandage and treat any wound she had over the years. She had been gentle with Clorinde, even in her worst moments. Navia had always been there to catch her before and it finally occurred to Clorinde that Navia would catch her now, too. Clorinde did not need to fear the fall anymore.
Clorinde went to turn, feeling the magnetic pull, but a bump prevented her from getting closer. Their hats had gotten in the way and the pair began giggling, just like they did when they were younger.
Navia took off her own hat, putting it on the counter. She then reached up and removed Clorinde’s hat, removing her last defense. Navia placed it gently next to her own before raising her hand back to Clorinde’s face, brushing her hair away from her eyes.
Clorinde smiled, looking at the woman she would give anything for.
“Navia Caspar, I am completely, utterly in love with you,” Clorinde whispered, searching her eyes, returning with nothing but adoration. Navia threw her arms around Clorinde’s neck, pulling her flush to herself.
“I know,” Navia grinned, “ Tell me anyway.” Clorinde chuckled, shaking her head.
“You’re the funniest, most caring person I know. I want to wake up and see you smile every single day. There is no other person who means more to me in my life. You are my best friend. I have loved you since the day I met you and will love you until the end of time.”
There was no surprise, no trace of hesitation in Navia. She didn’t allow the ghosts of fear to creep back in. Clorinde barely finished before Navia was repelling any shadow of doubt from her mind.
“Clorinde,” Navia spoke her name like a prayer. “I would give every star in the sky just for a glimpse of the light in your eyes. I want to be at your side for the rest of my life.” Clorinde could feel the tears welling up, the joy unable to be contained.
Navia, rarely at a want for words, finished simply.
“I am deeply, truly, irrevocably in love with you.” Her words just barely make it out of her mouth before she’s pulling Clorinde into a kiss.
It was a reckoning she had never imagined, never allowed herself to hope for. Navia’s lips were unbelievably soft against her own and she could taste the cookie and Navia’s lip gloss, a vanilla thing that Clorinde had always wondered what precise flavor it was. Something in her decided that it could only be described as “Navia” and with the way she wanted to go back for more, she was inclined to agree.
Clorinde would later realize that the writers had it wrong; it’s not fireworks, but the fated collision of supernovas, predestined by the cosmos. Navia sighed against her mouth and something settled in the very fiber of her being, whispering, “I’m home now.”
When they finally pulled away, Clorinde rested her forehead against Navia’s, feeling their breaths mingle as they struggled to catch them. They both began to laugh again, grins unable to be contained.
“Why did we waste so much time?” Navia asked, playing with Clorinde’s hair.
“Well, I don’t plan on wasting any more. The rest of mine is going to be spent with you,” Clorinde declared, swaying with Navia side to side.
Navia chucked, finally pulling back.
“Let’s start with tonight.” Clorinde found no reason to disagree, not when she leaned in once more, smiling into the kiss. They would take it one step at a time, hand in hand, together.
There was no stopping the inevitable.
When Clorinde curled up in Navia’s bed that night, wearing her own faded shirt that had been stolen nearly a decade ago, holding Navia close to her heart, she couldn’t help but agree with that little voice in her heart.
She was finally home.
+i
Of all the responsibilities she had as the President of the Spina di Rosula, arguably her least favorite was the absurd amount of paperwork required to get anything done within Fontaine’s legal system. Every proposal came hand in hand with a mountain of forms that needed to be painstakingly filled out. Even a simple proposal took months to get reviewed, and any small mistake would restart the process from the very beginning.
After three hours of staring at the same form, the words had begun to swim together.
Navia leaned back in her desk chair, stretching her arms with a loud yawn. She glanced out the window, sighing at the golden light that filtered through the shades. She needed to get the papers to the Court by the end of the week, otherwise the proposal would be delayed even further. Giving herself a brief moment of respite, she stared at the bouquet of pluie lotuses on her desk, smiling to herself.
With a quick rub of the eyes, Navia dived back into her papers, ignoring the slight pain in her back from hunching over her desk.
She worked for another twenty minutes before the jingle of keys broke through the focused silence. The front door of the house creaked open and the thumps of shoes falling to the floor carried to her office. Navia fought back the automatic swell in her chest and tried to finish up the section she was working on.
After a moment, a light knock came from her slightly ajar door, before a hatless Clorinde appeared, quietly sliding into the room. She padded behind her, lightly pressing a kiss to the crown of Navia’s head. She leaned down, resting her chin on Navia’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her.
“Welcome home,” Navia greeted, turning her head to peck her on the cheek. She inhaled the faint scent of Clorinde’s perfume, something smokey and warm, along with a sweeter undertone that was likely whatever dessert she had.
“How’s the proposal going?” In response, Navia let out a groan, dropping her pen to the paper in defeat.
“That well?” Clorinde teased. Navia spun in her chair, leaning into Clorinde. She rubbed soothing circles into Navia’s shoulder, steady and warm.
“I can’t imagine how much work my parents must have done to get the aquabus lines approved in the first place. According to the Spina members, the expansion plans are getting fast tracked through the process, and I’m still drowning in the paperwork.” Clorinde hummed in response, glancing at the stack.
“The municipal department is quite thorough,” Clorinde replied, “How about you take a break and eat something? I got that Inazuman takeout on the way back from Furina’s.” Navia’s heart melted, pooling into a puddle of affection. She had mentioned that she had been craving that for the last few days; Of course Clorinde would pick it up right when she truly needed it.
Navia rose from her seat, stretching her arms out to throw them over Clorinde’s shoulders. She curled her hands around the back of Clorinde’s neck, carefully avoiding her ponytail.
“Thank you, mon coeur ,” Navia kissed her, savoring her presence and pulling her into herself. She shifted focus, abandoning her work for the time being. “How was our favorite director?”
“She’s got a new show opening in a month or so, something about a musical murder mystery,” Clorinde smiled, wrapping her arms around Navia’s waist. She swayed back and forth, pulling Navia with her.
“Oh, we have to go,” Navia declared, though she fully expected the answer that followed.
“I already bought tickets,” Clorinde replied. Navia couldn’t resist the wave of affection that washed over her. Clorinde and Furina had a running argument over the purchase of tickets to her shows, as Furina repeatedly offered them free ones. Instead of accepting the gift, Clorinde insisted on buying tickets anyway, citing the need to “support the arts in the city as a public official.” Secretly, Navia knew her girlfriend just wanted to support their friend and show their care, which was as heartfelt as it was endearing.
“Of course you did,” Navia replied, shaking her head. “One of these days, she’s gonna start slipping the tickets into your pockets when you’re not looking, you know.”
“Oh I’m sure, though she might target you next. She wants us over for a dinner party sometime next week.” Navia mentally pondered her schedule for a moment.
“We both have meetings in the mornings, I have a birthday dinner to attend on Tuesday, and we’ve got a tabletop troupe session on Thursday, but-”
“Friday evening should be free?” Clorinde finished for her. “That’s what I had told her, but I wanted to double check before finalizing.” Her attentiveness was a gift, especially when it came to the mess that was Navia’s schedule. Clorinde often knew it better than herself, which was a lifesaver when it came to planning get-togethers.
“Friday works wonderfully. Now,” Navia rested her hands on Clorinde’s sternum, “Let me put away my work for tonight and we can eat.” Clorinde nodded, slowly letting her hands fall away. Navia turned quickly, reaching for the stack of papers to file them away so she could go eat with Clorinde. In her haste, she ran her finger along the edge of a page, shallowly slicing through her skin.
Navia hissed, dropping the pages once more. Clorinde, who had started to walk towards the kitchen, turned back to see what was the matter.
“Are you alright?” Clorinde asked, scanning to see what had happened. Navia waved her hand, attempting to disperse the worry.
“Just a paper cut, I’m fine.” Clorinde returned to her side, taking her injured hand.
“No blood, see?” Navia said, a lighthearted tone to her voice. Clorinde looked at the wound and Navia rolled her eyes at the intensity on her face. The cut was nearly invisible and would likely heal by the following morning, utterly forgotten.
Yet, even though she was clearly absolutely fine, Clorinde still raised Navia’s hand to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Navia’s heart skipped in her chest and she could feel her face burn, even at the simple gesture.
“All better,” Clorinde grinned, a smug and lazy thing, like she knew exactly the effect she had on Navia.
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
Navia cleared her throat, trying to deflect how flustered Clorinde made her, even after all this time.
“Why, thank you my kind and chivalrous knight,” Navia declared dramatically, hand to her heart.
“I have vowed my sword to my king until the end of my days,” Clorinde replied, though Navia could see her resisting a smile through the overly serious tone. Navia giggled, taking Clorinde’s hand to lead her towards the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway, studying Clorinde’s face. Her pupils were blown, gazing at Navia with the unbridled affection Navia knew she had hidden for years.
Navia cupped Clorinde’s cheek, pressing a long and lingering kiss to her lips.
“I don’t need a kingdom. All I need is you.” Clorinde paused for a moment, before she was picking Navia up with an amused yelp, twirling her around in the hallway. A surprised laugh erupted from Navia’s throat as they spun. She loved this infuriating sweet woman, a fact she was reminded of every time she thought about her, every moment she spent with her.
When Clorinde put her down, smiling like fools in the hallway, Navia could only think of one thing.
In the end, all I’ve ever wanted was you.