Archive of Our Own ^beta

spyre

On Ayda Aguefort’s last day, Fig Faeth never once let go of her hand.

Everything Fig knew about the aging process of a phoenix came firsthand from her paramour. She had been expecting the end of this Ayda’s lifetime to creep up on them, to give them time to prepare.

She hadn’t expected Ayda to wither all at once, suddenly frail and exhausted where the day before she had been vibrant and cheerful. Her skin had paled and sunken, her muscles sagging and the color and heat of her hair and wings fading in the blink of an eye. For the first time, Ayda could have been described as cold. Fig just didn’t have enough time.

Ayda didn’t have any notes on this. It seemed that it snuck up on her this way every time, leaving her too weak to catalog the process of her own demise. Fig supposed that was a small mercy, in the long term.

On Ayda’s last day, Fig lay with her in their bed with Adaine in a chair beside them, holding Ayda’s other hand. Fig had spent the whole day murmuring into Ayda’s ear, stroking her cheeks and promising that it would be okay, that Fig loved her, that Adaine was here, that she’d see her again.

But Fig didn’t know. She had no guarantees. She had no guarantees about anything anymore.

On Ayda’s last day, Fig Faeth was one hundred and twenty seven years old. She had buried all of her friends but one, her mother and two of her fathers, each grave serving as a stark reminder of her now eternal life. She had never felt more alone than this moment, wrapped around the woman she loved as her breathing became more and more shallow.

Hot tears streamed down Fig’s face as she sat up in bed, holding Ayda’s face in her hands. Panic was beginning to set in as Ayda’s breath slowed, and she shook her head, pushing magic through her fingertips into her weakened paramour, her own breaths coming sharp and wild. This couldn’t be happening. Not really. This was Ayda Aguefort, her paramour, her love, her muse. Ayda was the most powerful wizard of their time, it seemed impossible for her to die of such a trivial thing as old age. There had to be something she could do.

“Ayda? Ayda Aguefort, don’t you dare die on me.” Fig hissed, tears falling from her face onto Ayda’s. “Ayda, you promised me, you said we’d be together forever. Remember? Remember the stars? Huh? The meteor shower?” She asked, voice manic, shaking as she brushed her hands through the dim flame of Ayda’s hair.

“Fig-“ Adaine began, her voice rough from crying, but Fig didn’t want to hear it. She buried her face in Ayda’s neck, body wracked with sobs. She reached for her own ear, one fist closing around Ayda’s once fiery feather, now no warmer than an ember. “Ayda,” she said into her skin. “Ayda Aguefort, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I-“

A soft exhale, and the feather in Fig’s hand went cold. Before she could react, there was a sudden intense burst of flame that made Adaine scream, and then nothing.

Fig was hunched in their bed, face soaked with tears, with soft ashes slipping through her fingers onto the empty space where Ayda Aguefort had lain. There was a large egg resting where her head had been.

The sound released from Fig’s throat was far from human. Her wails echoed off the walls of their home, full of fury and rage for several long moments before the white hot need to burn the building to the ground had faded into nothing, replaced with a more intense grief than Fig had ever thought possible. She folded in on herself, face pressed against cooling ashes as Adaine crawled onto the bed with her, the oracle’s tears soaking the back of Fig’s shirt, and it all set in at once.

Ayda was gone, and Fig was alone.

꧁ ꧂

leviathan

On Ayda Aguefort’s first day, the sun was streaming through the massive windows of the Compass Points Library.

She emerged from her egg no larger than a human toddler; all knobby knees and too-big talons and huge, curious eyes that darted around the large observatory she found herself in. She stood, stretched, shook out her wings. She was somewhere familiar, but given that it was her first day, she had reason to doubt the validity of that feeling.

Suddenly, from a doorway across the room from her, a tall, sharp featured elven woman appeared. She carried a stack of books and wore her hair in a messy bun, her blue eyes widening as she beheld the brand new girl before her.

“Oh, shit, it’s today. Rawlins??” She called, setting the books down hastily on a nearby table. “She’s back!”

The woman crossed the room towards the girl, quickly grabbing a tablecloth and wrapping it around Ayda before stepping back, holding her hands up warily. “Ok… hi. I’m Aelwyn.” The woman - Aelwyn - said, offering a small smile. “You’re Ayda Aguefort. We-“ she paused, and Ayda watched Aelwyn search her memory, taking a moment before she spoke again. “I am very happy to see you again.”

Ayda opened her mouth to respond, a low trill and a chirp replacing where she figured words should be. She closed her mouth, clearing her throat, and tried again.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She said, staring up at Aelwyn. The elf regarded her with a complicated mix of emotions displayed across her face that Ayda couldn’t even begin to decipher. It made her nervous, but the nerves subsided as Aelwyn slowly brought her arms around Ayda, pulling her close to her chest.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ayda.” Aelwyn said thickly. “You’re gonna be really happy, this time.”

What Aelwyn meant by that, little Ayda couldn’t say. What she knew though, in that moment, and beyond a shadow of a doubt, was that she was loved.

༗ ༗ ༗

When Ayda Aguefort was three, she had learned to read. She devoured the books in the Compass Points with a hunger and a drive that startled her mother, parent, sister, friend guardian, Aelwyn, a great deal. On multiple occasions, Aelwyn remarked to Ayda that in all her considerable years - nearly two hundred, Ayda had guessed - she had never seen a child so young read such complicated text.

When Ayda Aguefort was seven, Aelwyn had begun giving her the notes her old selves had left behind. She began with the oldest, learning about their late parent Garthy O’Brien, about an older Ayda’s mistake in burning her previous notes. She learned that she was the mistress of the library she had grown up in, and Aelwyn confirmed that Ayda had built the collection, painstakingly over many lifetimes. Aelwyn had held her then, as she wept into her shoulder as the overwhelming weight of the past and a crushing fear of the future settled over her in an instant.

She took a break from the notes for a while, after that.

When Ayda Aguefort was ten, she had once again mastered wizardry. Aelwyn was a master of abjuration, a skill it seemed that past versions of herself had not quite conquered. She was a diligent student, asking endless questions of her mother, who assured her that just because she was studying abjuration right now didn’t mean she couldn’t branch into other schools later on.

(Ten was also the year she found the Door, locked and bolted and magically abjured by Aelwyn. When questioned about it, her mother assured her that there would be a time to use that door, but for now and for the foreseeable future, she was not to touch it. She didn’t appreciate Ayda’s quip about she could foresee the full future, if she concentrated hard enough. Aelwyn started making Ayda play with some of the local pirate children after that, insisting she needed more friends besides herself and Rawlins)

Ayda was seventeen now, and a master of four schools of magic. (Abjuration, divination, evocation and transmutation, if you must know) Her mother had recently gifted her the first set of notes about a group of Solesian adventurers called The Bad Kids. Ayda poured over them like one would a storybook, so curious about these people she used to know.

She knew the Oracle.

The Wizard Adaine was still very much fulfilling her duties as Oracle of the people, and Ayda delighted in the note that simply read, “Adaine is my best friend.”

The others were thrilling, as well. The Saint Kristen Applebees, special agent Riz Gukgak, the brilliant mind that was Gorgug Thistlespring, and the charming arrogance of Fabian Seacaster. But none fascinated her quite so much as her.

The Archdevil of Rebellion, Figueroth Faeth. The first sight of her name had sent electricity up Ayda’s spine. The first note on Fig read as follows:

Figueroth is confusing. It thrills me to be close to her and yet I can’t get too close without fearing I will pass out. Incredibly confusing, as I’ve said. Fascinating, even recounting the sensation in writing elicits a similar physical response. Must look into further.

When she had finished her latest portion of notes, Aelwyn sat her down, a serious look on her eternally lovely face.

“Ayda.” She said, taking her hands from across their favorite table.

“Aelwyn.” Ayda replied, blinking wide, curious eyes at her.

“I have to confess something. Something that you can’t read the rest of the notes without knowing.”

Ayda frowned immediately, drawing her hands back from Aelwyn. “That makes me nervous. Please say it now.” She said, a sickly feeling settling in her gut.

Aelwyn winced, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Ok just… ok. So Adaine, in the notes?”

Ayda nodded. “The Oracle, yes.” She said, her fingers nervously tapping a melody out on the wood of the table, a stim she had had since she was very young. Aelwyn must have seen her do it millions of times, yet now she glanced down at Ayda’s hands with a strange expression on her face before she schooled herself, taking a deep breath.

“Adaine is my little sister.”

Ayda’s fingers stilled, heart hammering in her ears all of the sudden. Aelwyn’s sister was… Adaine? The Oracle?

Somewhere, a voice in the back of Ayda’s mind whispered, my best friend.

“Why did you not tell me?” Ayda asked, lip quivering slightly as she took a slow breath, fingers beginning their tapping again as she tried to calm herself. “Why can I not read the notes without knowing this?”

“You were too young for the rest of them before now.” Aelwyn sighed. “This next bit is really… you need to know about Adaine so you know that these are people I knew. Know.” She said, and a look of deep sadness briefly flickered across her face. Ayda quickly cast Ayda’s Comprehend Subtext, frowning deeply as the spell informed her that the expression implied that most of her mother’s friends were long dead.

Aelwyn glanced at her as she sensed her casting the spell, a wry smile replacing the grief for a moment. “Adaine made you that spell.” She said, sighing with a tiredness Ayda had never heard before. “Now you know. The other thing you need to know that I still see Adaine regularly, and from time to time I also see… Fig.”

Fig.

Ayda’s heart thundered. She glanced down at her own chest, a hand coming to her heart, concerned. She had been having that reaction to Fig’s name since it had first appeared in the notes, and she couldn’t figure out why. A fundamental flaw in Ayda’s Comprehend Subtext was it could not be used on oneself, a misstep that Ayda cursed semi regularly.

“Okay.” Ayda said after a quiet minute. “Will I meet them?”

“Adaine soon. Fig if you want to, when you’re done.” Aelwyn said tentatively. “You’re as old as you were when you met them all the first time so we felt like-“

“We? Yourself and Rawlins?” Ayda asked.

“Adaine and myself. You two were best friends, last time. You know that. She just… didn’t want to… she felt strange about the prospect of…”

Ayda shook her head, a sign for Aelwyn to stop talking. She understood what was meant by Aelwyn’s fumbling. Her former best friend had not wished to see Ayda as a child, had not wished to be a mother figure to her in the way her sister was. Had hoped to have the same or a similar friendship with Ayda when she was of a proper age. It made sense, Ayda thought. More than likely it was an instruction partially from Ayda herself.

“And Fig? She’s still alive?”

Aelwyn nodded, grabbing the next stack of notes. “Read.”

꧁ ꧂

bastion city

On her worst days, Figueroth Faeth feared she had become her father.

Not Gorthalax, although she had become him in a more literal way. For the last twenty-seven years, she had felt more and more like Gilear.

Of course, Fig Faeth could never truly be on Gilear’s level - besides that stint in junior year - but she would be a blatant liar if she tried to deny that her mental health hadn’t suffered in the wake of Ayda’s loss.

She managed fine, she thought. Adaine seemed to think so, although she had very quickly began to stop by for biweekly dinners, making sure Fig was speaking to people. She enjoyed the company, needed it. Adaine was her best friend, and the only person alive who truly knew her.

She was still herself, despite it all. Ayda had convinced her long ago that herself was a perfectly wonderful thing to be, and it was for her paramours sake she stayed herself. She still made music, was still a motherfucking rockstar, despite the fact that she had lost her bandmate thirty sum years ago.

When she had started writing again after Gorgug passed, her sound had changed. Rock ballads became slower, softer, infused with a longing she felt deeply in her very bones. Her fans responded well, at least, well enough to still be touring. And she was still a damn archdevil, a task that took up more and more of her time as she struggled to write music.

Her appearance had changed very little in all this time. Same streaks of purple in dark hair, same punk rock style and just a hint of age showing on her immortal face. Faint lines from laughing crinkled near around her eyes and mouth, her horns were longer, and she had a sadness in her eyes that could only come from a long, full life. Of course, Ayda’s dimly glowing feather always hung from her ear, a comfort more than an accessory.

When Ayda had gone, Adaine had explained the plan to her, holding Fig in her lap and swearing by the nine winds and the seven stars that Ayda would know everything and make her own decision, but that Adaine felt very deeply that they would be together again. Fig had thanked her for the comfort in the moment, but as the years passed and she thought back on that day, the more sure she became that her best friend had told her an incredibly kind lie in the moment to soothe her.

She knew that Ayda was in the Compass Points on Leviathan. She knew that the door to Mordred Manor was sealed and abjured. She knew that Aelwyn, of all damn people, had offered to raise Ayda. Adaine had once told Fig that Aelwyn was a shockingly good mother, and had reported that Ayda was more and more herself with every passing second. Fig had left the room.

It would be a lie to say she didn’t dream of Ayda. She’d be a liar twice-over if she didn’t admit to thinking of her at least five times a day. Some deeper part of her was certain that Ayda was her one great love. She had tried dating, at first, five or so years after, and it was disastrous. The hookup scene was worse, and she had quickly decided that she had had her one, and that she didn’t need another. Adaine said that that was terribly lonely, but Fig had squeezed her friend’s hand and insisted that it couldn’t be that bad as long as the two of them had enough other.

༗ ༗ ༗

Boggy’s Mom
Fig

Infaethable
Adaine

Boggy’s Mom
I just moved into my new apartment a bit ago and I’m having some friends over to celebrate this weekend. It’s not a party but it’s also not not a party. And you absolutely have to come. It’s important for us to stay in the best timeline.

Infaethable
Don’t weaponize your oracle shit against me, abernant

Infaethable
ofc i’ll come

Boggy’s Mom
wear something cute. I know you don’t do the dating thing but I have a friend you might like

Infaethable
doubtful
read

꧁ ꧂

adaine’s apartment, bastion city

Ayda had been to Adaine’s many times by now, but had never seen it so full.

Her best friend had assured her that this night and her attendance at this party was deeply important to some cosmic phenomenon that she refused to explain. Over the last ten years, a now twenty seven year old Ayda was certain that she could trust the Oracle, but that didn’t stop the nervous fluttering of anxiety that sat low in Ayda’s stomach as she surveyed the crowded living room.

“Ayda?”

Ayda’s head snapped to the right, meeting the eyes of her best friend. Some tension drained from her body, and Adaine smiled, taking Ayda’s hand in both of hers and squeezing.

“Thank you for coming. Are you doing alright? I know there’s a lot of people.” Adaine said, nudging Ayda a few steps back so they were leaning against the wall, staring out across the party. Ayda tucked her wings in tight to her body, eyes darting from stranger to stranger.

“It seems that none of my vast and many incarnations has ever cracked the cure to social anxiety. Maybe in this lifetime or the next we will succeed where the others have failed.” Ayda said, fingers of her free hand tapping a melody on the wall behind them.

Adaine had a nervous smile on her face as she nodded, her eyes darting to Ayda’s fingers for a moment. She had been acting strange lately, but had been frustratingly direct when Ayda asked about it, covering herself in such a way that Ayda’s Comprehend Subtext wouldn’t tell her anything Adaine hadn’t already told her herself.

“I will say, you’re a lot more adept at socializing this time around than you were last time. Aelwyn’s very proud of that, I think. She made sure you had kids to play with and new people to talk to. The last Ayda had grown up pretty solitary.” Adaine said, leaning her head on Ayda’s shoulder.

“Aelwyn has said as much.” Ayda hummed, leaning her cheek onto Adaine’s head. “I would still consider you my only real friend, though.”

“I only really have two, so you’re halfway there.” Adaine sighed.

“Are all these people in your house not your friends?”

“Well… yes and no. They’re friends, or acquaintances. But real friends? Only you and Fig.”

There it was again, the hammering of her heart in her chest at the utterance of Fig’s name. This fluttering, nervous, thrilling feeling had been her companion since seventeen. Aelwyn had told her it was likely a symptom of a ”crush”, which had never made sense before. She did not want to crush Fig. Recently she’s felt more inclined to want to kiss her, should they meet again. Ayda squeezed Adaine’s hand.

“Will Figueroth be here tonight?”

Adaine bit her lip in a way that Ayda knew meant she was thinking. “Yes.”

Oh.

The answer to that question had always been no, before.

Adaine must have seen Ayda tense up, before she pulled away from her and stepped into her line of sight, firm hands gripping her shoulders.

“It’s all gonna be okay.” She said, staring Ayda down. “I promise you. I can’t interfere, for a few reasons cosmically but also because it’s weird to try and meddle in my best friends’ love life, but I promise you it’ll be okay. Whether or not you remember it, you know her. I mean, you’ve read the notes.”

“Countless times.” Ayda said, even as her inner voice reminded her of the exact number. (534 times completely, and just the parts about Fig 4,751 times)

“Right. So you know everything you did last time. Even more, actually. Whenever she shows up, you’ll be ready. I can’t promise..” Adaine sighed. “I’ll be honest, she might freak out. I didn’t tell her you’d be there because she wouldn’t have come.”

Ayda’s heart sunk. “Why? Does she not want to meet me?”

“No no no-“ Adaine groaned. “She’s Fig. Of course she does, but she’s really scared. She’s had almost thirty years to convince herself you wouldn’t want anything to do with her. She’s refused most updates about you because she doesn’t want to… make assumptions I guess? But you’re yourself, Ayda, just the way you’ve always been. She’ll be okay, you might just need to be patient with her. Take it slow, you know?”

“Of course. I hope I don’t say or do anything off-putting.” Ayda said, the nerves in her chest hardening into determination. “It is my deepest wish to… to see her again, really. I think I miss her.”

Adaine’s gaze softened, a small smile playing at her lips. “I’m sure you do. I know she misses you.”

Ayda’s stomach turned, her fingers tapping a faster and faster melody against the wall. “Does she?”

Adaine smiled sadly, nodding. “She does. Very, very, very much.”

A blanket of sadness settled over Ayda, her eyes going glassy for a moment. She didn’t like the thought that Fig had been burdened with the pain of losing her. Ayda had grappled with the feeling of loss, and the feeling of not having a piece of herself, for her entire lifetime. The difference was that Fig remembered. Fig still knows her. Ayda only knew what the last incarnation of herself had written - which was admittedly a lot - but most of Fig lived in Ayda’s imagination. She had only one photo; of her last self and the Bad Kids outside of the Compass Points after their sophomore year adventure. Ayda held Fig in her arms, with Fig’s face partially buried in Ayda’s neck, flashing a peace sign towards the camera. That photo had been framed beside Ayda’s bed since she was eighteen.

“Ayda.” Adaine said suddenly, glancing towards the door. Ayda blinked, focusing back on her friend. The sound of the party was suddenly oppressive, too many people and too many sounds. “You should go to the balcony. Get some air, okay?”

“She’ll be here soon.”

꧁ ꧂

Fig was no stranger to parties, but something felt… different, as soon as she stepped into Adaine’s apartment.

She quickly spotted Adaine standing by the far wall and began her trek through the partygoers to get to her. Her best friend had a tight, nervous smile on her face that made Fig nervous.

“Hey babe.” Fig said, pulling Adaine into a hug. “You doing ok? Party seems like it’s going well.”

Adaine nodded, squeezing Fig extra tight. “Thanks for coming, Fig. I’m really glad you’re here.” She said, and Fig frowned, pulling back and holding Adaine at arms length.

“What’s going on with you? You’re acting super weird.”

Adaine made a face. “What are you talking about? I’m totally normal.”

“You’re a bad liar.” Fig said, glancing around the room nervously. “Who’s here? It’s not Hillariel is it?”

Adaine laughed, some of the tension draining from her face. “No, not Hillariel. I think she’s back in Fallinell with the twins. No one’s here, I’m just tired, I think. Lots of prophecy shit lately. I’ve been the People’s Oracle for almost a century now and these Fallinell elves still think I’m just for them.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“Fuck them.” Fig said simply, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “But you’ve gotta tell me if I can ever help, Adaine. You know I don’t have shit to do right now. Or ever, really.”

“Oh, the rockstar life is boring now?” Adaine laughed, grabbing Fig’s hand and pulling her towards the kitchen for a drink. “That’s not the Fig I know.”

“Not boring, just routine.” Fig grumbled, tugging at her Fig and the Cig Figs crop top. “It’s not the same without Gorgug, you know? Hester’s awesome but…”

“I know.” Adaine said quickly, squeezing Fig’s hand. “It’s okay. Tonight’s a good night, okay? For both of us.”

Fig smiled and clinked her plastic cup with Adaine’s, taking a sip of her soda. She glanced around the crowded kitchen, suddenly itching for a clove. She squeezed Adaine’s hand, drawing her attention.

“I’m going to the balcony to smoke.” She said, nodding to the door that led outside to the small balcony.

There was a glimmer in Adaine’s eye suddenly, and Fig raised an eyebrow. “What’s that look?”

“You might meet my friend. The one I said you’d like.” Adaine said, shrugging as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Fig made a face.

“You’re being weird, dude. I’ll be back.” She said, turning and moving back through the crowd. Her hand closed around the doorknob and she pushed open the door, slipping into the cool night air and closing the door behind her as the silence settled comfortably over her. She reached behind her ear for a clove as she turned around, only to stop dead in her tracks.

Standing at the railing, glowing faintly in the dim light, eyes wide and nervous, was Ayda Aguefort.

Her hair was different, longer than last time. She wore the loose linen pants she had proffered before, but a tight black top that was clearly Solesian. She was still covered in golden runic tattoos that glowed dimly against her dark skin, but they were different, and there were many more. Her wings were tucked tightly behind her, and they twitched for a moment as she locked eyes with Fig, as if Ayda would fly away.

Fig’s heart was in her stomach, trembling as Ayda’s gaze pinned her to the spot. There she was, again. After all this time, there was Ayda Aguefort. Her shaking hand reached up to clutch the warm feather hanging from her ear. Ayda’s eyes followed the movement, then darted back to Fig’s face, lips trembling like she was searching for words.

Fig pressed herself against the balcony door, trying to take slow breaths as she opened her mouth to speak.

“Ayda?”

“Figueroth.” Ayda said, softly.

Fig’s lip trembled, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. “If this is a joke it’s not funny.” She said, pinching herself hard on the arm. She had to be dreaming. She had to be. She’d had this dream a million times before, this had to be a dream. She pinched herself harder, drawing blood as she willed herself awake. But then-

“Please don’t hurt yourself.” Ayda said quickly, hands seeming to instinctively reach for Fig before quickly being pulled tightly to her chest, eyes darting all over Fig. “There is no joke. I am the wizard Ayda Aguefort. There is only one of me.”

Fig felt a sob rising in her chest, and she swallowed hard, finding it difficult to look at Ayda for longer than a few seconds. How was she here? Adaine had planned this? What do you do when the only person you’ve wanted in the last twenty seven years is suddenly standing in front of you again?

Fig felt lightheaded. Her chest was tight, her breath coming quickly. Ayda’s brow furrowed, and she took a nervous step towards her. “Are you okay? Fig, please breathe slower.” Ayda said, her hands tentatively reaching for her once more.

’If she can touch me, she’s real.’ Fig though vaguely to herself as her whole body shook. A moment after that, Ayda’s fingertips brushed her arm, hot and electric and entirely too much. Her knees buckled as she sunk to the ground, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m s-sorry-“ She choked out, covering her face. “This isn’t how I thought-“ she gasped, fists closing around the base of her horns to curl in on herself. “This isn’t h-how I thought this would go, I’m sorry-“

Suddenly- warm, strong hands on Fig’s chest, pushing past the cage of her arms. It was suddenly darker and warmer, the breeze suddenly gone as she felt the radiating heat of Ayda’s body crouching close to her.

Ayda began to breathe deeply, willing Fig to match her breaths. Her warm hands pressed firmly to Fig’s chest, providing a grounding pressure as Fig began to slow her breathing, loosening her grip on her horns slowly. She could feel Ayda watching her, a feeling that was completely singular and unlike any other. Her whole body felt warm and fuzzy as the panic subsided, surrounded only by the warm, familiar wings of her paramour.

Fig lifted her head, and met Ayda’s gaze.

꧁ ꧂

Figueroth Faeth was more breathtakingly beautiful than Ayda had imagined a person could be.

Her previous incarnations notes had not been sufficiently thorough in describing the earth shattering beauty of her paramour. It had felt like the most natural thing in the world to Ayda to wrap Fig in her wings, to calm her this way, to be close to her in this way, as though she’d done so a million times before.

As Fig met her gaze, Ayda was struck by her eyes. They were such a rich brown that they were almost red, ringed in dark eye makeup that was now smudged with tears. The thumping of her heart was stronger than ever now, getting impossibly faster as Fig’s fists uncurled from her horns and wrapped around Ayda’s wrists, fingers pressing hard into her skin.

“You are very beautiful.” Ayda whispered, her fingers on Fig’s chest quickly tapping out the somatic component to Ayda’s Comprehend Subtext. She could not risk any miscommunication, not with Fig. She felt hot, fiery tears on her cheeks, and hoped Fig didn’t think she looked stupid. “I never thought someone could be this lovely. I’m very happy to be proven wrong.”

Fig made a noise that sounded half gasp, half laugh. It made Ayda’s entire spine tingle as if she’d been electrified.

“You are beautiful.” Fig said, her voice soft and rough. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m sorry I lost it there for a second. I’ve been… I wanted to…” Fig made a face, shaking her head quickly. “I don’t even know what to say to you, Ayda. I don’t wanna freak you out.” She said, a tiny laugh chasing her words. Ayda wanted to lean down and capture it with her lips, a sudden longing to kiss Fig crashing over her like a tidal wave. Instead she bit her lip, consulted her spell, and spoke.

“You could not freak me out if you tried.” She said, fingers nervously beginning to tap against Fig’s chest, a slow melody to ground herself and Fig. “I have…” Ayda paused, considering her words. “I have wanted to meet you for a very long time. I hope I haven’t scared you with my sudden touch. I normally would ask but you were scared and I-“

“-Ayda.” Fig said, squeezing her wrists. “It’s okay. Thank you, you really…” she trailed off, staring up at Ayda with an expression on her face that filled Ayda’s chest with butterflies.

“I’m really, really glad to see you.” Fig said simply after a moment, leaning into the pressure of Ayda’s hands.

Ayda’s breathing quickened slightly, her body pulsing with the need to be as near to Fig as possible. It took an enormous amount of self control to stay where she was.

“I’m very glad to see you, Figueroth.” Ayda said quietly. “When Adaine told me you’d be here I nearly passed out. I’ve been very nervous waiting for you.”

Fig’s expression softened impossibly, her eyes sparkling up at Ayda. “She’s a sneaky little bitch, our Adaine.” She said, laughter in her voice that told Ayda it was a joke. “She knows us better than ourselves.”

“Especially true in my case.” Ayda said matter-of-factly, jumping slightly in surprise as Fig laughed loudly, her eyes closing so tightly tiny laugh lines formed at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Ayda’s chest swelled with a barely contained joy at the sound - the experience of Fig. This was her paramour.

“You don’t have to-“ Fig began, glancing around at the dome of Ayda’s wings. “I know they get sore if you keep them like this for too long.” She said, letting go of Ayda’s wrists, much to her dismay, before those callused fingers were smoothing over the ridge of her wings, guiding them down to a resting position on either side of them. A shiver went through Ayda’s wings at Fig’s touch, her whole body feeling like it would burn up in an instant. The cool night air washed over them once more, and Ayda became very aware of how close she was to Fig.

Slowly, painfully, she pulled her hands away from her paramour, scooting back to sit a foot or so in front of her. She wiped away the flaming tears on her cheeks, blinking rapidly. When her gaze returned to Fig, the other woman was staring at her with a familiarity that sent a shiver up her spine. They lapsed into an extremely comfortable silence, just sitting across from each other and looking.

Ayda could look at Fig forever. She began to take more thorough notes in her head for later; Fig’s hair was not black but in fact a deep chestnut color. Her eyes were brown but looked red. She had some light freckles across her tanned cheeks, and her lips were full and painted in a reddish gloss. Her horns were long and mostly straight, curving slightly inwards towards the tops. The symmetry of her face was near magical, the way she just looked so magnificently herself made Ayda’s breath catch in her throat. There was no doubt in Ayda’s mind.

She loved Fig.

꧁ ꧂

Fig had imagined Ayda a million different ways in the last two decades. She wondered if she’d be any taller, or any shorter. She wondered if her eyes would be the same color, if she would still wear her hair cropped close on the sides and fiery on top.

Staring at Ayda across from her now, Fig knew her imagination never could have done her justice. Ayda’s dark skin was accentuated by the dozens of runic tattoos that covered her arms and torso, vanishing under her shirt in a way that made Fig’s heart beat double time. Her hair was still flame, but was somehow truly curly, dancing and flickering in tight, lively coils. Fig wanted to know if it still smelled like match smoke, or something new.

“We should go.” Fig said suddenly, wiping her face and standing up. Ayda scrambled to her feet beside her, towering over Fig. Oh, she had gotten taller.

“Go where? Should we tell Adaine?” Ayda asked, glancing nervously at the door.

“Anywhere. Anywhere you want to go. I’ll Message Adaine.” Fig said, and in a moment of bravely took Ayda’s hand properly in hers, slotting their fingers together easily. Ayda’s grip immediately tightened around her hand, the heat of her body spiking as she experienced her emotions. Gods, Fig had never been happier than this moment.

“I do not know Bastion City very well.” Ayda said, glancing out over the skyline. “Where would you like to go?”

Fig bit her lip as she thought, glancing over the edge of the balcony. “We could maybe go to the boardwalk, but it’s probably pretty crowded.”

“No thank you.” Ayda said quickly, shaking her head. “I would prefer if it was just the two of us.”

A giggle rose in Fig’s throat, and she swallowed it in favor of a barely contained grin. “Ok, great. Me too, for the record.”

“Fantastic.” Ayda said, beaming down at Fig. Gods, Fig loved her so much.

“Where will we go to be alone?”

Fig bit her lip again, the fingers on her free hand nervously tapping a beat against her leg. “I don’t wanna move too fast for you is the problem.”

“What would be considered too fast?” Ayda asked, turning to properly face Fig.

“Well…” Fig sighed. “Ok let’s just… do you wanna just fly around for a bit? I can tell you some… stuff, and then you can decide what to do.”

Ayda frowned slightly, the tiny crease between her brows becoming visible for the first time that night. Fig wanted to kiss that spot, and subsequently every other patch of skin she could get to.

“Is that okay? If it’s not we can stay here for a bit.”

“No, we should go. I will fly us around the city.” Ayda nodded, eyes flitting over Fig’s body for a moment. “If I were to..” she paused, and Fig watched her cheeks darken, feeling a fluttering of giddy joy in her own stomach. “If I were to pick you up, to carry you, would you… like that?”

“Very much, yes.” Fig said, unable to hide her grin now. Ayda grinned back, then suddenly her hands were at Fig’s waist and under her knees, lifting her effortlessly into strong arms. Fig gasped, cheeks heating as she wrapped her own arms around Ayda’s neck. She kept her posture as good as possible, nervous to maintain Ayda’s boundaries. It had been a long time since those boundaries had applied to her, but now she felt sixteen again, being flown towards a briar wall by the first person she’d ever had real feelings for.

The feeling in Fig’s body as Ayda hugged her tight to her chest and took off from the balcony could only be described as electric. Every atom of her thrummed with her proximity to Ayda as her paramour wheeled around Adaine’s building, her wings catching an updraft as they began to coast over the buildings below them.

Fig couldn’t stop staring. She knew it was rude, but she couldn’t bear to not be looking at Ayda. This close up, she could see faint freckles across her high cheekbones, could see the orange to white gradient of her long lashes, admire the shape of her lips and the curve of her jaw, try and remember the exact feeling of pressing her nose into the crook of her neck and breathing in the uniquely Ayda scent of old books and sea air. It was intoxicating her now, and she was having trouble remembering what she had needed to tell Ayda about.

Oh. Right.

“Can you hear me?” Fig asked softly, testing her volume against the breeze that whipped around them. Ayda nodded, glancing down at her. Fig’s breath caught in her throat as their eyes met, goosebumps erupting over her skin.

“You know, this is sorta how we got together the first time.” Fig said tentatively. She couldn’t be sure of how much Ayda knew, how much her lover had written down about their relationship. Ayda had always been very private about her notes.

“Yes, in Sylvaire. I took you to examine the briar wall in Arborly, you said you liked me just the way I am and skateboarded down the tree we were in.” Ayda said, cheeks darkening as she spoke. “Then you signed my contract and kissed me, and we kissed for a long time. According to my notes and my own personal reactions to reading that section, I can say confidently it remains one of the best of all my nights.”

Fig laughed, grinning ear to ear. “Well, that’s good to know. I feel the same way. Probably second only to-“

“Our wedding day.” Ayda said, a twinge of sadness crossing her face. Fig’s stomach twisted into a knot, glancing down at Ayda’s bare finger. The wedding ring strung on a chain around her neck felt like a burning coal under her shirt.

“Yeah.” Fig said softly, glancing away. “Yeah. But we don’t have to talk about that, not right now. I mostly wanted to say like…” she huffed, blowing a purple strand of hair from her eyes. “It’s been… a long time. For both of us I think but especially for me.”

Ayda’s beautiful face was certainly sad now, and Fig hated to see it. On instinct, the fingers on her right hand pushed up into the hair at the nape of Ayda’s neck, nails dragging across her scalp. Ayda’s entire body shuddered, her pupils blowing wide as she stared down at Fig. Fig blushed, but didn’t pull her hand away. “Sorry, I used to-“

“I know.” Ayda said. “Please keep doing it.”

“You seem like you know a lot.”

“I do. The last one of me was very detailed in her accounts of you, although I found her description of your beauty lacking. It is an error I will seek to correct in my next edition.”

Fig blushed deeper, the image of seventeen year old Ayda recounting her beauty in her notes so every Ayda for the rest of time would know… it was too much to process.

“I’m worried that..” Fig paused, chewing her lip. “I’ve missed you so badly, Ayda. I’ve known you for so long. I’m really worried that I won’t live up to the picture you painted of me. I don’t wanna let you down. I wanna be exactly who you want me to be.”

“Figueroth.” Ayda said, suddenly pulling them to a stop, powerful wings beating to keep them aloft. “You underestimate me. I know exactly who you are. I don’t think I have never been one for flowery language. I am a very literal person, a trait that befits a wizard. Every word in my notes is the absolute truth as I see it. So far you have done nothing but grossly exceed my expectations.”

Fig felt hot tears welling in her eyes as Ayda spoke. She wanted to hide her face, but Ayda’s soft gaze kept her focus. “I really love you, Ayda.”

Ayda’s eyes went wide, her lips parting in a surprised oh. Fig flushed, glancing away. “Sorry, that was actually way too soon to say that-“ she laughed awkwardly. “You just make me nervous I guess. I feel like I’m sixteen again and it’s like… it’s just crazy. Anyways I’m rambling. Fuck. Sorry.”

There was silence for a moment, before Ayda laughed; the same shrill, shrieking squawk Fig had fallen in love with the first time. Her paramour looked at her with an expression that made Fig’s insides turn to mush, her cheeks burning.

“You are beyond my wildest dreams, Figueroth. I love you very much.” Ayda said softly, tightening her grip on Fig.

Fig felt the first tear escape, lip quivering. She turned and buried her face in Ayda’s neck, fingers curling into her hair, nose pressed into the joining of her neck and shoulder. Her skin smelled like the sea, and Fig couldn’t possibly be close enough to her.

She felt Ayda’s cheek pressing hard against the top of her head, felt her warm hands heat up even more, sending a pleasant warmth pulsing through Fig. She could barely feel the cold now, even as Ayda began to move again. She began to circle above the city again, tapping a rhythm against Fig’s ribcage as she did.

“Can we go home?” Fig asked tentatively after a while, shifting from her position slightly to glance up at Ayda.

“Home?”

“Our-“ Fig began, then cut herself off with a soft sigh. “My apartment. We-“

“I understand.” Ayda said simply, pausing and waiting for Fig’s directions. This part of Ayda, her deeper insight into subtext and tone, was newer to Fig. Ayda’s Comprehend Subtext had been wonderful for her Ayda, but this Ayda had grown up with it, and the confidence it seemed to have instilled in her was wildly attractive to Fig.

The flight to Fig’s apartment was shorter than Fig maybe would have liked. When Ayda touched down on the cobblestone street in front of her brownstone and gently set her on her feet again, her knees buckled. Ayda was there in the blink of an eye, two hands on her waist to keep her upright. “Please be careful.” Ayda said, making sure she was stable before quickly withdrawing her hands.

Fig glanced behind her at her place - the place she and Ayda had shared for so long. She looked back at Ayda, her heart thundering in her chest.

“Will you come upstairs?”

꧁ ꧂

Fig’s apartment felt like home from the second Ayda stepped inside.

Maybe it had to do with some of the things that were clearly hers in random spots around the house; a telescope on the balcony, a room full of books, an espresso machine on the counter when she knew Fig only drank tea. As Fig toed off her shoes and stepped into comically fuzzy red slippers, Ayda couldn’t help but smile.

“We have good taste.” She said simply, glancing around the familiar rooms. There were Fig’s millions of fuzzy blankets and soft throw pillows, next to a neatly folded linen blanket and a single circular pillow that must b been Ayda’s. In the kitchen, a mess of Fig’s dirty mugs sat beside one of Ayda’s that simply said “Wizard Battle.”

Everywhere she looked, Ayda found herself. She was nestled into every crevice of Fig’s home, never hidden and always on full display. Anyone who knew Ayda Aguefort could tell she lived in this home.

“I didn’t wanna put it away.” Fig shrugged, nodding to all of Ayda’s things. “I mean, I put some of it away but… whatever. It’s embarrassing how much I kept out. I didn’t even know if you’d-“

“I am glad you kept them. I very much like having my things. This will make it easier to move in, anyways.” She said, then paused, turning red. “That was presumptuous of me. My apologies, I-I meant like… whenever you’d want me to. Hypothetically move in. Whenever you want.” She said, then snapped her mouth shut to cut off the stream of words, squeezing her eyes tight. Gods she was so embarrassed.

Warm hands on her wrists, taking her hands. Soft lips, pressing against each of her knuckles. Her heart was beating nearly out of her chest when she opened her eyes, Fig kissing her hands slowly, her own eyes closed as she took her time, handling Ayda as if she was fragile glass.

It was a display of affection so profound it nearly knocked the breath straight from Ayda’s lungs. She watched, transfixed as Fig’s lips pressed to her final knuckle, then the backs of her hands. Fig let go of her hands, turning them over to kiss her palms. Ayda let out a shaky breath as Fig took her hands again, pulling them over her heart. Ayda stumbled forward a step as Fig pulled, pupils blown wide as she stared down at Fig in awe.

“Why?” Was the only word Ayda could think to say, voice trembling at the emotion of the moment.

“Because I love you.” Fig murmured. “And I’m happy you’re home.”

Ayda’s lip trembled, and she glanced away from Fig nervously. “That is tremendously kind of you, Fig.”

Fig laughed softly, squeezing her hands before she stepped back, pulling Ayda towards the enormously plush sofa. They sank into the cushions, enough space between them to feel like torture for Ayda. Her fingers began tapping a beat out on the cushion beside her, her other hand still firmly held in Fig’s.

“I think you get that from me.” Fig blurted suddenly.

“What?”

“That thing you do. When you tap out a beat or a melody when you’re nervous to focus? I do that too. I’ve done it since I was little.”

“Me too.” Ayda said, shaking out her hand as she got flustered. “I never thought about it but I suppose you’re right. Just another way you’ve always been with me.”

Ayda watched Fig’s cheeks darker, her eyes flickering from Ayda’s hand to her face and then away, out the far window. “Ayda?”

“Yes?”

“I have a selfish question. It might be too personal so you can totally say no.”

“I couldn’t say no to you.” Ayda said immediately, feeling the conviction in her soul even as Fig’s eyes widened in surprise. Ayda held her gaze; hoping Fig could tell she meant it.

Fig cleared her throat, eyes fixing on their joined hands as Ayda watched her. “I was wondering… you’re really private about your notes. I was wondering what you had written about me. Mostly because I have no idea how you… like we just met, and you feel and act so much like… shit, I don’t know. It’s dumb.”

“I’m happy to share my notes with you, Figueroth.” Ayda said, squeezing her hand. “My last self wrote quite a bit about you. I’ve committed every word about you to memory.”

Fig’s eyes widened, lips parting in a surprised ‘oh’. Ayda spoke again, turning to fully face Fig.

“What would you like to know?”

Fig paused, clearly trying to decide what was too much to ask for. “I want to know your favorite bits. The parts that made you feel… like this, about me.”

“For the record,” Ayda began, squeezing Fig’s hand again. “I’ve felt… Aelwyn said it was a crush; when I was younger. I got the first set of notes on the Bad Kids when I was seventeen, and since the first time I read your name, I felt this… fluttering, nervous, excited feeling. I didn’t know why until I had read the rest of the notes. I’ve always loved you, Fig.”

Tears slid down Fig’s face, and she quickly wiped them with her free hand. “Whatever. Cool.”

Ayda chuckled, running her hand over the back of Fig’s hand. “So… my favorite bits?”

꧁ ꧂

Fig let me have a sleepover with her tonight. I did not know what to do or what a sleepover was but she was very kind to me and instructed me on the proper protocol. Contrary to the name, a sleepover requires you to stay up all night talking.

Normally this would be extremely difficult for me, as I require sleep. However, Figueroth is entirely fascinating and easy to talk to. I did not know it was possible to like someone so much.

The elevated heart rate and shortness of breath persists when she’s around. I’m still not fully sure what it may be but I’m beginning to have a strong hypothesis. Hopefully Fig wants to talk to me more.

༗ ༗ ༗

Fig-ism No. 5
When she is particularly tired, she will collapse her full weight on the person nearest to her, seeking comfort and a break from using her body. I have been so lucky to be closest to her when this happens, twice now.

༗ ༗ ༗

Tonight was the best night of my life.

Fig invited me to whatever a Shrimp Party is. I was thrilled just to be invited, but we did not stay as Fig wanted to explore the briar wall. I followed her from a distance so as not to be weird, however I think I startled her anyways. It must not have deterred her, as we explored the briars together before something most miraculous occurred.

In a feat of what I now know to be incredible vulnerability for Fig, she proclaimed me to be ‘perfect just the way I am’ before she promptly turned and skateboarded down the tree we were in.

It is convienient that Fig offered me this opportunity to disclose my personal feelings for her. She found my contract amusing but signed it without issue, then presenting me with her version of a ‘contract’ before, miraculously, kissing me.

I do not know if it is considered typical or normal to kiss for approximately an hour and a half in a forest, however I find that I do not care.

I am happier tonight than I have ever been in all my lives.

༗ ༗ ༗

I am writing now absent from the company of my paramour. My father has dragged me on a wild jet ski escapade through time and space. I find solace in finding new, creative, and increasingly romantic ways to make sure that my Figueroth knows that my love persists across all the many ages of the world.

༗ ༗ ༗

Fig-ism No. 86
More and more now, whenever I allude to things we will do together when we are much older, her eyes sparkle in a way that Ayda’s Comprehend Subtext tells me she is glad we are both dreaming of our future.

I love her dearly.

༗ ༗ ༗

Fig and I have moved into our apartment in Bastion City. The space is a delightful blend of both of our personalities and lives, and my greatest joy is to come home and see her working on a new song on our bed. This must be the beautiful mundanity Jawbone has often spoken about with Sandra-Lynn.

༗ ༗ ༗

Fig has asked me to be her wife.

I find myself unable to convey with words the joy and euphoria I am experiencing, and so I will hope that the next Ayda, and the one after that, and so on until the world combusts will know the love of Figueroth Faeth, and experience this joy for herself.

༗ ༗ ༗

Fig-ism No. 364
Age becomes my paramour. I hope a version of me will get the honor to see her truly old.

༗ ༗ ༗

If Figueroth ever gets her sneaky hands on these notes, she will not like this one. If I am reciting this note to her, as I expect one day a version of me will, Figueroth my love, I’m sorry.

I expect my final days are upon us. I do not want to tell Fig more than that. She’s been sad enough these past few months. I know my darling Fig well enough by now to know she will not be comforted by anyone’s words or kind gestures in the years following my rebirth. In the event that she is reading this, I hope that these, my last words to myself in this life, will ease some of the pain she has no doubt inflicted upon herself in the years since our last meeting.

Fig, my paramour, each day since I met you has been impossibly filled with love and joy. I have used my considerable magic time and time again to peer into the future, and into divergent timelines, and can give you a wizards promise that there is no world in which I was happier than my lifetime spent with you.

No doubt that you will keep your distance for most of the next Ayda’s younger years. My hope is that you do not let the pain of loss keep you from joy. You, my darling, have taught me that loss and grief is the price we pay for loving deeply. I have loved you deeply, and will no doubt mourn in my own fashion until such a day comes that we meet again.

If I am so lucky to be your lover in my next life, I will tell you all this myself.

Be kind to yourself, my Figueroth. I will see you soon.”

༗ ༗ ༗

When Ayda finished reciting, tears were freely pouring down Fig’s face, mirroring the fiery droplets on Ayda’s cheeks. Sometime in the recitation, Fig had grabbed Ayda’s hand with a crushing force. If Ayda minded, she hadn’t said.

Fig wiped her face with her free hand, taking in shaky, gasping breaths as she tried to compose herself.

“She wrote that? You wrote it?” Fig asked, rapidly blinking tears from her eyes.

Ayda nodded, staring deep into Fig’s eyes with an intensity that Fig had missed so dearly, a look at froze her to the spot. After a few moments of quiet interrupted only by Fig wet gasps, she composed herself enough to speak.

“And you feel that way too? She wrote it but you feel it too?”

Ayda nodded, a drop of fire sliding down her perfect face. “I have read and reread all my past notes countless times, but the parts about you I’ve read over thirty fold. My dreams are full of bass music and purple hair and that smile of yours.” Ayda said, raising her hand up to brush the tears from Fig’s cheeks.

“There have been more constants in my life, this time. Aelwyn is a wonderful mother, I was very lucky. I have my library, of course. But I’ve also had you. I’ve known you my whole life, Fig.”

Fig collapsed against her then, all her weight spilling into Ayda’s lap, her face pressed to the side of Ayda’s neck. Ayda’s arms circled her, pulling her closer. Fig breathed deeply, the smell of Ayda’s skin filling her as her paramour’s deft fingers gently combed out her braid, nails scraping against her scalp as she ran fingers through Fig’s thick hair. Fig allowed her eyes to close, almost fully curled in Ayda’s lap with her arms trapped between their chests.

“Ayda?” She asked quietly after a few minutes. Ayda responded with a trilling hum, the reverberation sending a shiver down Fig’s spine.

“Are you my Ayda, or someone new?” She asked, not picking her head up.

“Both, I think.” Ayda said immediately. “I am my own person. I have been told I differ from my last incarnation in various ways, however I am still Ayda Aguefort, of which there is only one. And regardless Fig, ‘your’ Ayda put in a lot of work to make sure that all Ayda’s until the end of time will be yours.”

Fig pulled away from Ayda, staring down into her face. Her perfect, lovely face that Fig had dreamed of every second of every day since she had lost her. Ayda gazed up at her, all wide eyes and open expression and pure love. Fig couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can I kiss you?”

She watched Ayda’s pupils dilate, her cheeks flush. Her eyes darted down to Fig’s lips, her hands now nervously fluttering above Fig’s back. She nodded, and Fig leaned down.

Their first kiss had been perfect.

This one was better.

It was like all the fireworks in the world had just exploded inside of her. Fig was shaking, so the first brush of their lips was light as a feather, a reverent pressing of Fig’s mouth to Ayda’s after all these years. Fig had barely pulled back, had nearly fixed her lips to ask Ayda if it was okay, when Ayda surged forwards to meet her. Fig yelped, grabbing onto Ayda’s shoulders as they toppled over, Fig’s back hitting the sofa and dragging Ayda over her.

Before panic could wash over Ayda, Fig was laughing and reaching for her face, pulling her into another kiss, mouth hungry for what she’d been starved of for so long. “You’re perfect.” She said into the kiss, hands cupping Ayda’s face, keeping her close.

Ayda’s arms caged them in, her wings circling them again, trembling with Ayda’s joy as Fig’s hands wandered to the base of her wings, sending a shudder through Ayda.

“That’s new.” Ayda murmured, pressing closer to her. “Do it again, please.”

Fig giggled, running soft fingertips from the base of Ayda’s wings along the spines, as far as she could reach. Ayda made a delicious sound that Fig loved, a sound she swallowed as Ayda pressed closer to her, her hands tentatively wandering from her waist to her hip, and lower, to where the hem of her skirt met bare thigh.

“Whatever you want.” Fig muttered against her lips before Ayda could even ask.

“I just want you.” Ayda answered, pulling back to look down at her. Fig was sure she looked a mess - hair loose and messy, makeup smudged all down her face, eyes red from crying so hard - and yet Ayda was looking at her as if she was the most beautiful girl in the world. In this moment, she might have believed her.

“You have me, baby. Forever and ever.”

꧁ ꧂

Ayda was fully moved back into their apartment the next day, a random closet door enchanted with a familiar charm to bring her straight to the Compass Points so she was never too far from home.

Although, she reminded herself, she was truly home now.

From her favorite perch on the balcony, Ayda looked up from her book, gazing through the open balcony doors into their bedroom, where Fig lay, kicking her feet and tapping her fingers in time as she worked out the melody to her newest song.

She had been writing again, a lot more since Ayda had come back. Ayda was absolutely thrilled to be able to listen to her discography for the first time again. If she had cried through the whole sophomore album, so what?

As if on cue, Fig looked up at met Ayda’s gaze. Her face split into a wide smile, eyes shining, and Ayda couldn’t help but smile back.

’I love you.’ She mouthed, blowing her paramour a kiss.

’Love you more.’ Fig mouthed back, catching the kiss and holding it to her heart.

Ayda blushed, rolling her eyes as she turned back to her book.

They had definitely gotten it right the first time, and it was a rarity and a blessing that they got it right the next time too. As Ayda sipped her coffee and turned a page of her book, she made a mental note for later.

”My life will be perfect, so long as I have Figueroth Faeth.”