Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Twilight

Hella closes her eyes in Hieron and opens them again in Adularia.

Her sheets at the University are rough, worn from years of harsh winters, the space outside her room full of the constant sound of people. Her room is comfortable enough, but plain.

The walls of the room she’s in now are richly patterned, the colours bright even in the dim light of the candles scattered around the room. The sheets are soft, a whisper of silk against her bare skin. It’s quiet, save for the faint crashing of the waves and the scratching of pen against paper.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,” says Adelaide.

Hella rolls onto her side to look at Adelaide. She’s still seated at her writing desk, only the pause of her hand hinting at the change in direction of her attention from the page to Hella, although Adelaide doesn’t turn her head. Hella stretches, grinning to herself at the quick flick of Adelaide’s eyes towards her.

“Well. You know. I thought you might be lonely,” says Hella, careful to keep her voice casual.

Adelaide hums, her pen moving across the page again. Hella rolls onto her stomach, pillowing her head in her arms as she watches Adelaide work. The silence is comfortable, warm in a way their silences hadn’t been before Aubade, and Hella lets her body relax into the soft bed.

She watches Adelaide’s profile, the way her brow furrows as she hesitates on a word or phrase, the way the candle illuminates and shadows the planes of her face. She so rarely gets the chance to just look at Adelaide, especially now that they’re on different strata of existence. The time itself feels luxurious.

After a few minutes Adelaide sighs, standing and turning towards Hella. She glows, faintly, in a way unrelated to the candlelight, an unearthly silhouette underneath her sheer robe. Hella swallows, her throat suddenly dry.

“I suppose,” says Adelaide, “I should enjoy your company while I have it.” When Hella doesn’t move she steps closer again, bending to lay a hand on Hella’s arm. “Move over.”

Hella shifts to make room, feeling suddenly shy, focusing her eyes down towards the sheets. Adelaide lies down, opening her arms to Hella and, what else is Hella to do but follow her god? She is in Adelaide’s realm after all.

Hella clears her throat. ”I, uh. I hope this was a good time? I didn’t exactly choose to visit- wait, did you…”

She can feel the vibration of Adelaide’s chuckle. “It is out of both of our hands, it seems.”

“Sorry,” says Hella, on reflex.

“Save your apologies for when you need them,” says Adelaide. She pauses. “I… It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” says Hella, “It’s good to see you too.”

Adelaide strokes fingers through Hella’s hair, her heartbeat in time with the waves outside, carrying them on to morning.

Sunrise

Hella closes her eyes in Adularia and opens them again in Hieron.

The plain walls of her room at the University are the same as ever, the sound of people outside a little less thanks to the early hour. The only difference is the set of Adaire’s day clothes, laid neatly over the back of a chair. She notes, smiling, that Adaire has done the same with the clothes Hella had left in a pile on the chair. Adaire must have done it after she’d come in, after Hella was asleep.

Hella tries not to think too much about what it might mean, for Adaire to return to Hella’s room of her own accord while she was asleep, for Adaire to choose to fall asleep with her without their usual dance back and forth.

Adaire makes a soft noise, her nose brushing Hella collarbone. Hella presses a kiss to the top of her head in response, the half-asleep state of both of them making the motion an easy one.

“What time is it?” mumbles Adaire.

“Early,” says Hella, “go back to sleep.”

“Mmm,” says Adaire, “you too.”

Carefully, so as not to wake her, Hella shifts so that her arm is a little more around Adaire’s waist, holding her close. Adaire’s body follows her motion easily, curling into Hella’s embrace. Hella lets out a long breath, peering down at Adaire’s sleeping form in the dim light. Her hair has escaped some of its braid in the night, and the way the faint sunrise light catches it almost gives her a golden halo.

Adaire sighs in her sleep, shifting, and the light slides away from her.

Hella still remembers it though, carrying the sight of it back into sleep with her.

Chapter Text

Devotion

Adaire waits until Adelaide fades back to her own strata before she approaches Hella’s throne from the shadows, leaning over the low back of it. Hella could feel her the moment she appeared, of course. They’ve been doing this a long time.

Hella tilts her head back, so their faces are close together, close enough that she can feel the heat from Adaire’s skin without touching. Adaire doesn’t move away, but she stills, so as not to touch Hella. Her fingers rest loosely in the twisting design of the chair, close enough to brush Hella’s shoulder, if she wanted. She taps her fingers against the wood.

“An interesting choice, that one,” says Adaire, her voice soft.

“Well, not all of us can so easily walk amongst the living,” says Hella, “Some of us need someone to spread our good word.”

“It’s not easy,” says Adaire, “it’s just what I like to do. Someone’s got to keep an eye on them.”

“I didn’t think that was your domain.”

“Thieves and travellers take a lot of looking after,” says Adaire. “I can’t always rely on Ephrim to do it.” She taps her fingers again. “He tends towards forest travellers now anyway, chasing after that hunting god of his.”

Hella hums. “We all have our distractions, I guess.”

“Is she?”

Hella does turn her head at that, almost nose to nose with Adaire. Adaire doesn’t lean back. Neither does Hella.

“Is who what?”

“Is she a distraction?” says Adaire.

“Queen Adelaide is… she understands the cause, how important it is to give people a place to rest.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” says Adaire.

Hella considers her a moment, leaning in a fraction more so that their lips brush as she speaks. “She’s no more of a distraction than you are.”

Adaire holds steady, still not moving back but not moving forward either. “Perhaps I should keep an eye on your queen, if she’s that distracting.”

Hella huffs a laugh, enjoying the way Adaire swallows hard, the only sign their closeness is affecting her at all. They’ve been doing this a long time after all. Hella’s had thousands of years to learn Adaire’s tells.

“I think perhaps she would enjoy that,” says Hella, “as long as you asked first.”

Adaire grins. “Don’t I always?”

“You never do,” says Hella, and kisses her.

Just because they’ve been doing this a long time does not mean that she has more patience for it. She feels Adaire laugh into the kiss, twisting around the arm of the throne to get closer, which makes it all the more easy for Hella to pull Adaire into her lap.

Adaire does touch her, finally, then, which all the encouragement Hella has ever needed to return her touch, enjoying every slight shiver, every gasp, every flex of Adaire’s fingers. Adaire has not quite yet begun to come undone, but she soon will be, a state that is a rare sight for anyone other than Hella’s eyes.

Adaire, for her part, touches Hella gently, delicately, like Hella is a fragile ornament to be stolen from a mortal home. It is not often that a goddess of death feels treasured, and Hella’s chest feels tight at it; the length of years behind them that she has gotten to have this sacred thing for herself.

She kisses across Adaire’s jaw, down her neck. Adaire’s fingers dig into Hella’s shoulders and she grins.

They’ve been doing this a long time, but it never, ever gets old.

Second Chances

When Adaire pictured her death, which she tried her best not to do, she often pictured herself in the deaths she’d seen during her life - by a sword or an illness or an accident caused by a fool. There were plenty of ways to die in Hieron.

None, however, were the way in which she was currently experiencing it, which was a dainty afternoon tea. Adelaide raised her eyebrows at her over the rim of her teacup, setting it down gently, the soft clink seeming loud in the silence of the room. Adelaide folded her hands on the table, looking at Adaire expectantly.

“What?” said Adaire.

Adelaide’s eyebrows arched again. “You seemed as if you had something to say.”

“I don’t.”

“Perhaps I was mistaken.”

Adaire took a sip of her tea. The silence stretched in the afternoon light. Adaire took another sip, longer this time. The tea was perfectly nice, but it was more that it gave her something to do with her hands.

“I suppose I should be getting you back to Hella,” said Adelaide.

Adaire choked slightly on her tea, coughing into her handkerchief.

“I would ask if you’re alright,” said Adelaide, “but it’s not as though any harm could come to you here.”

Adaire narrowed her eyes at Adelaide for a moment. “I guess not. I’m just a little surprised that you… that it would be that easy.”

“It isn’t,” said Adelaide.

She stood, motioning for Adaire to follow her. Adaire pressed her lips together, then stood, following Adelaide down the polished marble corridor.

“You’re- Hella cares about you a great deal,” continued Adelaide.

“We’ve been friends a long time-”

“I was in her head, Adaire,” said Adelaide, smirking, “I’d say you were a little more than that.”

“Well, it’s- it’s complicated. That part of it is complicated,” said Adaire, “but we are friends.”

“Yes?” said Adelaide.

“I just- don’t you normally force people to make some kind of deal with you for this,” said Adaire.

Adelaide inclined her head. “I do.”

“So how do I know that you won’t do this for me now and ask me to do something for you later?” said Adaire.

“If that was the deal you were making I would tell you,” said Adelaide.

She stopped walking, turning to admire her reflection in the huge mirror that hung on the wall. Adaire’s reflection glared back at her for a moment before she turned to look back at Adelaide.

“So what is that deal?”

Adelaide’s smirk was back. “There isn’t one.”

“But you just said-”

Adelaide put a hand on Adaire’s shoulder, her hand oddly hot for a goddess of death.

“There is no deal. If it helps, think of it as… as a favour that I’m doing for Hella.” Adelaide leant down, pressing a quick kiss to Adaire’s cheek. “Say hello to her for me.”

She pushed gently as Adaire’s shoulder, shoving her forward into the mirror. Adaire braced herself, but instead of cold, hard glass she passed through the surface of the mirror as though it was water. She felt as though she were floating, suspended as though in water until her lungs burned and she swam towards the light above her, towards the surface-

Adaire gasped awake on the uncomfortable stone floor of a cave, Hella and Hadrian’s concerned faces above her. Hella cupped Adaire’s cheek in her hand, her thumb brushing over the spot Adelaide had kissed.

“Thought we lost you there for a second,” said Hadrian.

Adaire didn’t look away from Hella, reaching up to weakly cover Hella’s hand with her own. “I think you almost did.”

Chapter Text

Maintenance

Hella’s new body is different. Adaire knew it would be, of course, it was bound to be, even though Hella looks the same. Hella’s new body is undeniably strong, but so was her body before. Hella doesn’t get sick (or, not now that she’s more used to her body), but she rarely got sick before.

What’s different is that now, when she gets hurt, Adaire doesn’t immediately know how to fix her. Stone wounds can’t be sewn shut and she’s not sure what, if anything, applying a poultice would do. Her… other… medicines might do something , but they were always meant more as a distraction rather than a cure.

There are few books on pala-din at the University and even fewer than are helpful. She writes to Tabard, and gets some useful information that way, although it’s possible that Hella might be something entirely new, different even from Tabard.

“I don’t think it’s really going to be a problem,” says Hella, “I mean, I don’t think I can really get hurt.”

“Yeah, that’s not really reassuring,” says Adaire. She looks down at Tabard’s letter again, scanning her eyes through the paragraph until she finds something helpful. “Even if that’s true, you still might need, uh. Maintenance.”

Hella blinks. “Maintenance.”

“Yes,” says Adaire, tapping the paragraph in question.

Hella makes a face. “Like… greasing a rusted wheel?”

“You don’t have wheels,” says Adaire, “and think of it more like… a check up. Smoothing over cracks before they get too deep. That sort of thing.”

Hella’s face clears. “Oh, that’s- okay. That’s fine, you can do that.”

Adaire’s stomach flips, the way it always does when Hella shows her that kind of absolute trust. “Are you sure? They probably have pala-din in Alcyon who have, you know, actual experience.”

“Yeah,” says Hella brezily, “but you know me, I hate to travel.”

Adaire looks up at her, incredulous, and Hella laughs.

Hella puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “You’re my doctor, Adaire. I trust you.”

Adaire lets out a long breath. “If you’re sure.”

Hella grins. “Never been sure-er.”

Arms

Hella likes to work out. This has always been true in some sense or another, moving from spending her days running around the block chasing her younger siblings to running track to going to an actual gym with Hadrian. She likes to move her body, she likes to feel strong, it’s been a solid part of her routine for years.

She likes to work out with other people. She can do it on her own, of course, but she always has more fun with it when she’s in a group, even if the other people aren’t necessarily participating.

For example, some people make a great audience.

Adelaide lets out a low whistle as Hella lifts the weights, and Hella can see Adaire shift on the bench in her peripheral vision, leaning forward. She adjusts her posture, grinning. It’s not like it’s even the heaviest weight she can lift, but she normally saves that type of thing for her more serious workouts. Right now, this is just…

Well. It’s showing off, really.

Not that Adelaide and Adaire seem to mind. She’s not sure which of them had the idea to start with; by the time they asked her if they could hang around to watch her workout they were presenting a united front.

It’s nice, she thinks, to see her girlfriends getting along.

She lets out a small grunt as she sets the weight down, wiping her face with the bottom of her tank top. Adelaide and Adaire are both by her side in an instant, Adaire with her towel and Adelaide with her water bottle.

“Thanks,” says Hella, accepting them both.

She takes a swig of the water as she wipes at the back of her neck. “I’m gonna go do a cool down, if you guys are okay to wait?”

“We’ll wait, right Adaire?” says Adelaide.

Adaire opens her mouth, then closes it again, nodding. Her cheeks are flushed.

Hella takes another drink to hide her grin. “I should probably shower too, like, before we go to the movies or whatever.”

“Actually, Adaire and I were talking about that,” says Adelaide.

Hella raises her eyebrows. “You were ?”

“Yes,” says Adaire, “Adelaide’s place is on the way to the movies, so you could shower there.”

“You should ,” says Adelaide, “in fact, I insist .”

“Well, I guess if you guys insist .”

“We do,” says Adelaide, smiling as she puts a hand on Hella’s arm.

Hella grins before she catches herself. “Sorry- I’m all sweaty.”

“I don’t mind,” says Adelaide.

Never one to be outdone, Adaire puts a hand on Hella’s other arm. Hella huffs a laugh.

“Okay, okay,” says Hella, “let me cool down first.”

“Don’t get too cool,” says Adelaide.

Hella laughs, stepping away to the mats. She glances over her shoulder to look back at Adelaide and Adaire, their faces close together as they whisper to each other.

Actually, now that she thinks about it, it’s probably dangerous that they’re getting along so well. Very dangerous. They’ll probably miss the movie.

Adaire catches her looking at them and grins. Adelaide’s eyes slide towards her, a matching grin on her face.

Ah well. She didn’t really much care about the movie anyway.

Chapter Text

Mixed Success

Adaire’s setting the table for dinner when there’s a knock at the door. She turns to give Hella a look, but Hella is already heading towards the door. Adaire suppresses a sigh, already mentally rolling her eyes at the most likely candidate for interruption and whatever dramatic personal revelation Hadrian is having in this moment.

Instead of the enthusiastic greeting of Hadrian however, the voice at the door is much softer, an almost silken quality to it that can only belong to one person.

“Hello Adaire,” says Adelaide, “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I was in the area, and I remembered I left my jacket here, the last time I was over.”

“It’s fine,” says Adaire, aiming for an unaffected tone.

She is unaffected, really. Just because Hella is sort of dating them both, or whatever, it’s not a competition. And, if it was, she would be winning, because she’s known Hella longer. Not that she thinks about that sort of thing, obviously, because it’s completely childish and beneath her.

Hella hands Adelaide her coat, and Adelaide smiles at her.

“We were just about to have dinner,” says Adaire.

“Oh?” says Adelaide.

“Yeah,” says Hella, “there’s plenty, if you want to stay.”

Adaire bites the inside of her cheek.

“Well,” says Adelaide slowly, “I suppose, I mean, I don’t have any other concrete plans.”

Hella smiles and, oh, it’s so hard for Adaire to be mad at her when she looks like that.

“As long as I’m not intruding,” continues Adelaide.

“Of course you’re not,” says Hella.

“Well we are kind of having a date night,” says Adaire, at the same time.

Hella flushes.

“Oh! Of course ,” says Adelaide, “I remember you saying, Hella, that was why we couldn’t have dinner tonight.”

“Yeah, but, I mean, it’s fine, right?” says Hella, looking from Adaire to Adelaide.

Adaire gives Adelaide a long look. Adelaide gives her a look right back.

“It’s fine,” says Adaire.

“Great!” says Hella, “It can be like a group date night!”

The flush on her cheeks deepens as she says it. Adelaide must notice it too, because she pressed her lips together, barely suppressing a smile. Adaire doesn’t bother trying to hide hers, although she does turn back towards the kitchen.

“I’ll set out a place for you,” says Adaire.

Adelaide reaches out and touches Adaire’s shoulder lightly. “Thank you.”

Adaire pauses for a moment before she continues forward. “You’re welcome.”

Dinner surprises Adaire by being relatively uneventful, although Hella certainly blushes more over dinner than she has in almost the entire time Adaire has known her. Adelaide pushes, and Adaire pushes back, and before she knows it Hella is bright red. It’s not altogether a bad look for her, to be so flustered. Adaire surprises herself by grinning back at Adelaide across the table, enjoying Adelaide’s obvious delight that must be so similar to her own.

Adelaide hovers in the kitchen as they do the dishes, more draping herself over Hella’s shoulders than helping, although even that is not as annoying as Adaire would have thought, so much so that when Hella suggests they all watch a movie, Adaire finds herself agreeing as readily as Adelaide does.

Hella, of course, falls asleep before the movie is barely half-way through. Adaire huffs a laugh, moving to pull the blanket up a little higher across Hella’s shoulders. Her hand brushes Adelaide’s, half-way through the same motion.

“She always falls asleep during a movie,” whispers Adelaide.

Adelaide is grinning over at her, but for once, it doesn’t feel like a jab. Adelaide’s grin is too soft at the edges. Adaire is sure her expression is the same.

Adaire grins back. “I know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her stay away through an entire movie except for-”

“Fast and Furious,” they say in unison.

Adelaide laughs.

It’s, perhaps, not the date Adaire was expecting to have, but it’s turning out to not be so bad.

Love Letters

A declaration of love is not always so overt. It can be, of course - a letter, left curled inside the drawer of a city on fire

You intrigue me, Ordennan, for all that my father has tried to use you like a puppet there is something about you, a secret of some kind that I would very much like to discover for myself, if I had the time to do so. If certain events had not happened as they had, perhaps we would have had the time to walk together through the gardens here towards the beach. It is very beautiful there, although perhaps you do not care for that. I do not know. But I find that I would like to.

Or hastily pushed to the bottom of a bag

I worry for you Hella, on so long a journey, although I know that you would tell me that this journey is no longer, no less dangerous, than others you have taken. I don’t doubt your skills as a warrior, but still, I worry - I know you’ll laugh at that, the idea of someone, of me, worrying over you, but it is true. I am often a liar, but never to you, if I can help it.

Sometimes they are not written at all - an apple, brought to share and goad in equal measure, or freshly-baked bread, still warm from the oven. A warm laugh curling inside the back of your mind, or a light brush of fingers on the back of your hand.

Sometimes, it is both at once, and Hella feels it, her chest bursting with it. She returns the declarations in whatever way she can, letting her feelings slide into the part of her mind where Adelaide resides and her hand tangle with Adaire’s as they sit by the campfire.

She hopes they can feel it too.

Chapter Text

Medicine

“You do know I’m not really a doctor, right?” said Adaire, like she always did, her hand hovering over Hella’s wound.

Hella, as always, shrugged. “You’re as good as. Better, because I know you won’t just say what I want to hear.”

“Is that an issue for you?” said Adaire, beginning to clean the wound.

“With Ordennan medics, sometimes,” said Hella. She snorted. “I think they’re afraid of me.”

Adaire hummed. It wasn’t that deep of a wound but it was a messy one, not easily stitched shut. She would probably have to advise bedrest, not that Hella would ever listen to her about that -

“Are you?”

Adaire looked up sharply, meeting Hella’s eyes for a moment before she looked back down. “Am I what?”

Hella paused. “Afraid of me.”

“Should I be?”

“Maybe. I’m a violent warrior,” said Hella, “If soldiers are afraid of me, I must be terrifying to people from polite society.”

Adaire blinked at Hella, a laugh escaping her. “Hella, I am not polite society.”

Hella waved her uninjured arm. “Sure you are. You’ve got, you know, fancy clothes-”

“Anyone can buy nice clothes-”

“And the right manners-”

“That’s just learning to watch what you say, anyone can learn that-”

“And, you know, you always look so, so-” Hella made a face. “I dunno. Put together.”

Adaire made a non-committal sound. Her hair tickled her cheek, a sure sign it was escaping wildly from the braid she put it in to sleep, and she wrinkled her nose. She didn’t feel particularly put together, a cloak pulled over her rumpled sleep clothes and hands bloody.

“You do!” said Hella.

“Well. I suppose I try,” said Adaire, “but I’m sure the same could be said of you, sometimes.”

Hella laughed. “I doubt it.”

“I don’t,” said Adaire, mouth working ahead ahead of her mind, “I’ve seen you in your armour.”

“I don’t think my armour’s that impressive,” said Hella, “I mean…”

She gestured to herself and to the pile of armour on the floor, where some kind of Ordennan squire had helped Hella pull off her chestplate before rushing out the door. Even without it, Hella cut a striking figure in the lamplight, but Adaire had seen her before, on her way through town the first time, armour shining in the sun.

“Wait,” said Hella, “When did you see me in my armour?”

“You were wearing it when you came through the door,” said Adaire quickly, “Do I need to check you for a concussion?”

She put a hand on Hella’s forehead, mostly jokingly, suppressing a gasp as Hella caught her wrist.

“You saw me before, in the parade,” said Hella slowly, “I didn’t think you were the type to come out to wish Ordenna good luck.”

“I wasn’t,” said Adaire, “I… I happened to be passing by, and I caught sight of you, that’s all.” She paused. “Clearly if I wished you luck it wasn’t very effective.”

Hella huffed a laugh, letting go of Adaire’s wrist. Her skin felt very warm, where Hella had touched it. Adaire made a conscious effort not to lean back in towards her.

“I guess not,” said Hella. “Or maybe it was, since you agreed to help me out after all.”

Adaire’s attention snapped back to Hella’s wound. “Right.”

She worked in silence, carefully pulling the wound closed. She would have thought Hella were asleep, were it not for the occasional grunt of pain. The sun was just beginning to rise as Adaire finished, stepping back and pushing the frizz of hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand.

Hella reached out, tucking the errant strands behind Adaire’s ear. Adaire swallowed.

“Thanks,” said Adaire.

“No problem,” said Hella. “Thanks for, you know, all of this.”

Adaire nodded, turning to wash her hands. “Just make sure you at least try to get a few days of rest before you go testing those stitches.”

“Guess that means I should find a place to sleep tonight.” Hella glanced towards the window, making a face. “Or, today. Whenever.”

“Doesn’t Ordenna have an army camp?”

“They do,” said Hella, “But I’m not in the army, technically, so I have to find my own lodging.” 

“I have room,” said Adaire, “If you want- I mean, it would save you traipsing all over the city.”

Hella grinned. “Trying to keep an eye on me?”

“Someone’s got to make sure you’re taken care of,” said Adaire.

“I’ve been doing this a while now,” said Hella, “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got me now,” said Adaire, “So you don’t have to.”

Adaire wasn’t sure why she did it, perhaps it was tiredness getting the better of her again, but she lay a hand on Hella’s shoulder. Hella went very still under her hand.

Hella swallowed. “I… okay, if you insist.”

“I do,” said Adaire, “Doctor’s orders.” She held out a hand to help Hella up. “Come on, it’s upstairs.”

She lead, and Hella followed.

Scars

With Hella’s new body, the scars she had gotten up until that point in her life were now fixed points upon her skin. Adaire traces a finger over them, slowly, carefully, as though she hasn’t long memorised them.

Hella sighs, half asleep under Adaire’s hands. She’s still tired from the transformation - it took barely any arguing for Adaire to get her to lie down, a sure sign of exhaustion. Adaire really should leave her, let her get some sleep. There’s probably even something she’s supposed to be doing in this moment, helping with supplies or rebuilding or planning...

Just a few more minutes, she tells herself, a few more minutes to make sure Hella is really, truly settled, and then she’ll leave.

She watches Hella breathe in and out, matching her breath for breath. It’s steadier now than when Hella first emerged from the cave. Strong, deep, reassuring breaths.

The sound of someone stomping past the room shakes Adaire from her daze. She takes one last, only slightly lingering, look at Hella before she stands, shaking out her skirts and stepping towards the door.

“Where’re you goin?” mumbles Hella behind her.

Adaire turns sharply. Hella is looking at her with half-lidded eyes, one hand extended lazily in Adaire’s direction.

Adaire swallows. “I thought you were asleep.”

Hella wriggles her fingers. “Come ‘ere.”

“I should let you rest,” says Adaire, but she steps towards Hella all the same.

She’s close enough now for Hella to reach her, clumsily tangling their fingers together. Adaire presses her lips together.

“I can rest with you here,” says Hella.

She shifts over slightly, wincing. Adaire leans towards her, worry clawing its way up her throat.

Hella makes a face. “I’m fine-”

“You are not .”

“Okay, sure,” says Hella, “but I’m not dying .”

Adaire frowns. “You were.”

“Yeah, but now I’m not,” says Hella. When Adaire doesn’t move, Hella squeezes her hand. “Adaire, come on. Just for a little bit.”

“Fine,” says Adaire.

She slips off her shoes and fusses with laying her cloak over the back of the chair, trying not to focus too much of Hella’s warm smile, the way her arms are open and waiting for Adaire.

Adaire tries to be careful, not leaning too much on Hella, and then Hella huffs and pulls Adaire against her.

“Careful,” says Adaire.

“Aren’t I always?” says Hella.

Adaire snorts, and Hella laughs in response. Adaire settles back against her, her ear close enough to Hella’s chest to note the absence of a heartbeat.

There’s a scar, at the top of Hella’s shoulder, and Adaire reaches out, tracing a finger along it. Hella hums, a pleased, sleepy sound. She presses a kiss to the top of Adaire’s head.

Adaire swallows around the ache in her throat. “You said you would rest.”

“I am,” says Hella, “and so should you.”

Adaire rolls her eyes, but she does relax back into Hella, matching her breath again as they both drift into sleep.

Chapter Text

Beach

The beach section of Joypark always gives Hella such a weird feeling. The air smells chlorinated rather than salty, and there’s an unnatural rhythm to the breeze. She has to watch her step, families all over the place and kids running into the man-made waves and out again.

Still, the crowds make for a great cover.

Adelaide is already waiting at their usual table, of course, a scarf covering her hair in a loose attempt at disguise, as though a simple piece of fabric could stop people from recognising a Candidate. She gives Hella a look over her jewel-toned sunglasses as Hella sits down across from her.

“Sorry,” says Hella, “the line was way longer than I thought.”

“It’s fine,” says Adelaide. She waves a hand. “I took the liberty of ordering drinks. I assume Adaire isn’t far behind you?”

“Correct,” says Adaire, appearing at Hella’s elbow.

Only years of training stop Hella from flinching, although she does allow herself to let out a startled noise. Adaire and Adelaide both laugh, which is, of course, why Hella lets herself.

Adaire sits down next to Hella, taking off a Joypark-branded sunhat and putting it next to her on the table. Hella opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again as the waiter arrives.

“Thank you,” says Adelaide smoothly, passing them a tip, “Please ensure we are not bothered any more than necessary this afternoon.”

The waiter nods, glancing over their shoulder towards the closest security camera. Hella nods to herself, shifting so that her face is hidden from the camera’s view. The movement brings her closer to Adaire, and Adaire doesn’t move away. Hella can feel her shift, very slightly, to lean a little against Hella’s side. Hella grins.

Adaire takes a sip of her drink, something murky and purple. She nods to Adelaide.

“Glad you approve,” says Adelaide. 

Adelaide plucks the cherry off the top of her own drink and holds it out to Hella between two fingers. Hella grins, taking it. The moment it leaves her fingers Adelaide smiles, locking eyes with Hella as she licks the pad of her finger.

“This is a family establishment,” says Adaire.

“This beach has seen worse,” says Adelaide, “we’ve done worse at this beach.”

Adaire’s cheeks flush pink. “Well. Sure.” Her eyes flick to Hella. “Are you actually going to eat that?”

Hella shrugs, popping the cherry into her mouth. She makes a face at the burst of artificial sweetness, sticky on her tongue. She takes a sip of her own drink, a multicoloured juice of some kind.

“How long do you guys have?” says Hella.

“I cleared my afternoon,” says Adelaide, “I can clear my evening, if we feel like that.”

Adaire shrugs. “I have however long you want.”

Hella’s throat aches sharply. However long she wants is a much longer time than she’ll ever get, probably. She swallows, reaching for her drink again.

“I… heard you got into a fight,” says Adaire.

Adelaide leans forward, putting a hand on Hella’s arm. Hella can feel herself blush.

“I- sort of. It’s not a big deal,” says Hella.

“That’s not what I heard,” says Adelaide.

“I. Well, you know. These things get overblown so quickly,” says Hella.

Adelaide hums. “I suppose. Although, with you, the legends are often true.”

Heat flares in Hella’s cheeks again and she presses her toes into the sides of her boots to avoid squirming under Adaire and Adelaide’s combined gaze.

“I- I don’t know,” says Hella, “It was whatever. I’m fine.”

“Good,” says Adaire.

There’s a sharp glint to her eye, the one that usually precedes trouble . Adelaide must see it too, because she reaches out, lightly touching the back of Adaire’s hand.

“This is a family establishment,” says Adelaide.

The glint disappears as Adaire rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”

“Don’t do anything later either,” says Hella. She puts her hand over Adaire’s, where it’s resting on the table, squeezing it. “I really am fine.”

“Okay, okay,” says Adaire, “but next time, you call me for backup. Or Adelaide.”

Adelaide smiles. “Yes, or me. I’m never too busy to help out.” She pauses. “That goes for you too Adaire.”

Adaire blinks. “I, uh. Yeah. Same to you, I guess.”

Adelaide’s smile warms. She’s been doing that more lately, Hella thinks, when Adaire’s around. It feels like a small miracle. She’s not sure how she would ever have a chance to go on actual dates with them if they couldn’t do it as a group.

They’d never get a table at a Joypark beach, for one thing.

“So,” says Hella, “how are things at the Diaspora?”

She relaxes back against the bench as Adelaide talks, smiling as she feels Adaire’s body follow her’s. Adelaide’s hands flutter gracefully as she talks, landing back down on Hella’s every so often. 

Soon, they’ll have to leave, going back to their separate lives until they can find time and space to meet up again.

But, for now, the sun is warm, her drink is cold, and the air around her is filled with the laughter of the two people she loves most.

Fireworks

Hella tugs on her hand, pulling Adaire forward, through the crowd of people gathered at the Bluff City boardwalk.

“Come on,” says Hella, “we have to get a good spot! You’re gonna love it.”

“Okay,” says Adaire.

It’s not true of everything Hella says she’ll love. It’s not true of boardwalk taffy (way too salty), or Hella’s favourite ice cream (coffee cream), or their science teacher Dr Fantasmo. But it’s true of more things than it’s not, and mostly of the stuff she doesn’t like Adaire just puts down to being the new kid syndrome . Maybe one day she’ll love gross, salty boardwalk taffy or overly-caffeinated ice cream, or lectures about the elements.

Hella keeps trying though, which, really, Adaire appreciates. She’s been the new kid often enough to know when someone’s really, actually wants to be your friend outside of the school mandated showing-you-around.

So when Hella knocks on her window at 7pm and tells her to sneak out to the boardwalk with her, of course Adaire agrees.

By the time they reach the front of the crowd they’re almost at the water. Adaire can feel everyone’s excitement but especially Hella’s, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She grins at Adaire. 

“We made it!”

“We did,” says Adaire, “Are you actually going to tell me what we made it to now?”

“It’s-”

There’s a loud rush of music on the pier, a band playing out-of-time with each other for a few notes before they seem to gather themselves to begin properly.

Hella squeezes her hand. “It’s starting!”

“ What is?”

“You’ll see!” says Hella.

There’s a crack and pop above her, and Adaire looks up to see fireworks.

“Oh,” breathes Adaire.

“I told you you’d like it,” whispers Hella. “They do it every year, part of this cultural festival thing.”

It’s been a long time since Adaire saw fireworks. Not since she was very little, she thinks. She’d forgotten how beautiful they are.

Hella squeezes her hand. “Hey. You okay?”

Adaire blinks quickly to clear her vision, swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat. “Of course. I just- thank you. I do like this.”

Hella grins, looking back up at the fireworks. “Me too. They’re just… they’re something about them.

Adaire watches the coloured lights reflected in her face. “Yeah. Something about them.”

Chapter Text

Bells

Bells ring out as they make their way back into the University, the sound booming over the cheering crowds. It feels like every person inside the University and out must be there on the streets to greet them.

It’s been a long time since Hella saw so many people who looked so happy. She grins, lifting her arm to wave and then wincing as the pain spikes along her still-new joints.

Her whole body, her whole, new body, hurts. It’s not like how her body had hurt before, or even when she’d experienced wounds in battle. This hurt is deep, like her body is a bruised muscle. Her legs shake as she gets off her horse, and she stumbles.

Adaire is by her side in an instant, holding her steady.

“Let’s get you somewhere you can rest,” says Adaire.

“Promised Hadrian I’d go with him-”

“He’s not going to Marielda right now ,” says Adaire, “We’ve got a few hours at least.”

Hella glances back towards the rest of the group. Hadrian is holding onto Rosana and Ben, his face pressed into the crook of Rosana’s neck, eyes closed. She looks back at Adaire.

She can imagine, she thinks, how he feels to be home.

“I guess,” says Hella.

Adaire’s shoulders straighten out, a sign of pleased stubbornness. “Good. Come on.”

Despite her abrupt tone she walks Hella slowly to her room, her hands steady on Hella’s sides.

“I always thought if we did this I’d be the one carrying you ,” says Hella.

The corners of Adaire’s eyes crinkle as she smiles. “How often did you think that?”

“Oh, you know,” Hella waves a hand, trying for casual, “enough.”

Adaire falls silent until they reach the threshold. She swallows, and Hella can feel Adaire’s hands twitch on her sides.

“I thought about it too,” says Adaire, voice quiet.

“Thought about…?”

“This,” says Adaire, “Us.”

Hella feels like the breath has been knocked from her body. “Oh.”

Adaire raised her eyebrows. “ Oh ? That’s all you have to say?”

“Uh,” says Hella, “Good?”

Adaire blinks, then laughs. “Alright, good.”

“I- yeah, it is!” says Hella, “give me a break, I’ve got a new body, things are weird.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Adaire.

Her hands are steady on Hella again as she helps Hella upstairs, to her own small bed. The springs squeak as she lays down. Adaire pulls the covers over her, turning to fuss for a moment with a water jug, setting a cup on the small table by Hella’s bed.

Hella catches her hand as she turns to go. “Wait-”

Adaire stills, turning back slowly.

“I, uh- will you stay?” says Hella, “I just- I don’t- I’d like it. If you stayed.”

Adaire swallows again. Slowly, slowly, she changes Hella’s grip on her wrist, so that their fingers are tangled together.

“I’d like to stay,” says Adaire.

“Good,” says Hella.

Adaire laughs. “Good.”

She slides in beside Hella, pressed against her in the small space. She pulls their joined hands to her chest, over her heart.

“Get some rest,” says Adaire, “We’ve got a long way to go, later.”

Hella’s body still aches but she can feel her new muscles relax for the first time. She doesn’t know if pala-din sleep but still, she can feel herself slide into something like it, safe and warm and curled around Adaire.

Home.

Rings

Adelaide has many delicate silver rings, adorned with gems and, of course, pearls. She has always enjoyed the sight of them on her fingers, glittering like starlight (and two, on a thin chain around her neck, hanging so that they’re hidden from view, much plainer but more precious than all the others).

Adaire wears gloves, hiding the two simple bands from prying eyes, the line of them barely visible even if you were to look for them (secret and safe).

Hella doesn’t wear jewelry, she was never really one for it even before her new body. Still, as her stone body ages, she carves two delicate lines onto a finger (“I won’t lose them that way,” says Hella).