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1
Imogen wakes to a touch on her face. Laudna brushes lavender curls away from her eyes and tucks them behind an ear. Early morning light is streaming through the window, and Laudna’s fingers are delicate, reverent.
This is new.
They’ve been traveling together for months now, making the trek across Marquet towards Jrusar. Imogen likes to think that they’re friends, even if Laudna insists she doesn’t know what that means. And maybe they’re more, because it was Imogen who said she wanted to visit the Starpoint Conservatory, and Laudna is still here, walking across the continent with her. But they never talk about that. They just stay together. They don’t talk about why. Laudna doesn’t even think it.
So this is nice. Laudna is gentle and shy and just a little bit nervous.
Imogen smiles. When Laudna sees her awake though, she panics. She pulls her hand away and shrouds the room in magical darkness.
Imogen laughs. "Good morning."
"Sorry," Laudna mumbles, “I thought your hair was in your eyes.”
Imogen waits for a few breaths, pauses to see if Laudna will drop the spell, but nothing happens. The darkness remains. Laudna stays very still.
This is not like nighttime, this is pitch black, like being blindfolded. Slowly, Imogen feels around the bed until she makes contact with one of Laudna's limbs.
"Why are you sorry?"
And before there can be a response, Imogen is moving, pulling Laudna into her so that they are huddled together in bed. Imogen can't see of course, but she can feel Laudna, and she wraps herself around the other woman, resting her cheek against tousled hair. And this is exactly the same as usual. Because they’ve been on the road for a long time, and there have been far too many cold nights, or leaky tents, or drafty rooms to always sleep alone. So they hold each other in the dark.
"You don't have to apologize," Imogen continues, before switching to her telepathy. You don't have to hide either.
And it's Imogen who takes courage from the darkness, because Laudna shivers without answering, and Imogen fumbles in the dark. She presses her lips to where she thinks Laudna should be, but she catches the hairline behind Laudna's ear. That wasn't the intent, but Laudna doesn’t protest. She turns away, just a little, and Imogen repeats the motion, this time kissing the nape of Laudna’s neck.
Laudna’s hand covers one of Imogen’s, holds her in place so they stay curled together. And when the darkness spell fades a few minutes later, neither of them has moved.
2
The darkness spell becomes a near nightly occurrence after that.
And Imogen doesn’t know if the darkness is to make her or Laudna braver, but maybe that doesn’t matter. Because in the darkness, they can be themselves. In the darkness, their limbs tangle together, and they press much closer than they dare even in the shadows of night. When the lights are out, and Imogen is blind, Laudna relents. Laudna accepts when Imogen shifts closer in bed, reciprocates when Imogen puts a hand on her waist or her back. Laudna will sometimes make the first move, drag her nails up an arm or a cheek, pull Imogen in for a hug.
The first time their lips touch, it is in that bubble of darkness. Imogen reaches out with one hand and encounters Laudna’s belly. She flattens her hand against it, feels the thin fabric of Laudna’s sleeping shirt and the strip of exposed skin where the shirt has ridden up. Her palm makes small circles, finding the indent of the belly button, and there’s an intake of breath when she makes contact. Laudna’s hand grabs hers, slides it over to the waist so Laudna can roll closer. And Imogen can’t see Laudna, but it feels right being this close to her, their breaths mingling in the barest space between them.
When Laudna kisses her, it’s unexpected. Because they’ve never done this before. There is pressure on Imogen’s lips, Laudna’s nose bumping into hers. But just as quickly it’s gone, only the ghost of pressure remaining. Imogen breathes out a moan, almost a whine. She licks her lips and leans forward, but there’s only empty space. “Laudna?” And she hates how needy she sounds.
“Can I… Can I kiss you again?” The question is hesitant, uncertain, and it makes Imogen shiver.
“Please.”
And Laudna’s aim is so perfect Imogen suspects one of them can see in this darkness. Because Laudna’s lips find their way unerringly to hers. There is no bumbling about, no foreheads knocking, no limbs in the way. There are only Laudna’s lips on hers, soft and questioning. Imogen opens her mouth a bit and her tongue is met by Laudna’s. Someone whimpers in the dark.
They spend many minutes entwined, exploring with hands and lips and tongues, until Laudna turns away and snuggles up with her back to Imogen. “Goodnight,” Laudna whispers.
And before Imogen can ask, the spell dissipates, allowing moonlight into their space once more. Laudna’s eyes are closed, facing away from Imogen, and she doesn’t speak.
“Goodnight, Laudna.”
3
This is just the thing that they do now. For ten minutes each night, as long as Laudna has magic leftover, they allow themselves to be bold. And they don’t talk about what happens in the dark. It's a timeout from the world where nothing exists beyond the two of them.
Whenever they have a safe place to stay, they climb into bed and Laudna casts the spell. And in the absence of light, there is only sound and smell and touch, and every part of Imogen screams that she belongs here, with Laudna. Because ever since they met, Imogen doesn’t feel alone anymore, even if the nightmares still happen. Laudna smells like autumn, and the scent that used to presage the coming of winter and months spent indoors now fills Imogen with hope. In the dark, there are hurried kisses and furtive touches, every few nights bringing another escalation.
Imogen blames her own escalations on the darkness. She can’t see what she’s doing.
So the first time she touches Laudna’s breasts, it is entirely by accident. She sends her hand across the bed, finding Laudna, and sweeps across a slight swell before a nub poking into her palm makes her blush. Imogen is grateful for the darkness this time. And she tries to pull her hand away, but Laudna catches it somehow even in the dark, places it back where it just was. Imogen’s other hand is also plucked from the bed, placed alongside its twin. Then Laudna’s fingers trace up Imogen’s arms to rest on Imogen’s chest as well.
Their kissing continues, now accompanied by caresses on both sides. Imogen’s hands are buzzing, and she imagines her scars glowing with purple light that’s being swallowed by magic. Laudna feels electric.
When Laudna’s fingers tease across the underside of Imogen’s breasts, Imogen slides even closer. She lifts her shirt so that her torso is exposed, and when Laudna’s hands return, Imogen moans at the sensation of cool hands on hot skin.
Laudna freezes. Both her hands and her lips stop. Before she can change her mind though, Imogen nods against her chin, thrusts her chest forward, and continues making out with her. Laudna cups the breasts fully, draws her fingers down them and plays with the point of the nipples. Imogen lurches.
All she can hear is her heavy breathing, the wet sounds of their tongues and mouths spurring both of them on. Imogen becomes more frantic. Her own hands drift lower on Laudna’s body, looking for the ends of Laudna’s clothes. Just as she finds Laudna’s waist though, the kissing stops, Laudna pulls away and turns so they are spooned together.
The darkness spell drops. Time’s up.
Laudna closes her eyes. Imogen lets out an unsteady breath. She readjusts her shirt and tries not to think about her nipples poking into Laudna’s back. She tries not to rub her legs together and think about how wet her shorts are. She looks at the curve of Laudna’s neck in the moonlight and fights not to kiss it.
As a small concession to herself, she opens her mind and listens to Laudna’s music, basks in the frenetic tempo that gradually slows to its usual pace. She doesn’t pry, just skims the surface to catch a roiling sea of unnamed emotions, and one clear thought.
Goodnight, Imogen. Sleep well.
Imogen doesn’t know how she possibly can, but she closes her eyes and tries.
4
Imogen looks forward to the time they spend together before sleeping every night. She craves it, misses it even more when they can’t indulge because they need to keep watch or because Laudna used her spells during the day. Sometimes, when they can lie next to each other in the dark, Imogen imagines a timer counting down the seconds they have left before the real world intrudes again.
So Imogen creates their mind link before bed. Because Laudna very rarely speaks in the dark. At least this way, Imogen can be sure. She doesn’t want to make Laudna uncomfortable. She doesn’t want to push too hard, or ask for too much. Even if she doesn’t know what this really is. She only knows that there’s no more pretense in the dark. There’s no time for that.
When the lights go out, Imogen is brave. She feels around for Laudna and holds her face when they kiss. She roams her hands over Laudna’s body. She moves closer when Laudna can’t reach, turns to give Laudna more access. When Laudna slows or hesitates, Imogen is always encouraging, never demanding. And Imogen has taken to wearing less clothes to bed, both because of the warmer weather and because there’s no time to waste.
She wishes she could see Laudna’s face sometimes, the awe and wonder that causes each intake of breath or accelerating heartbeat. She’s almost certain Laudna can see in the magical darkness. Because Imogen often struggles to do just the right thing, but Laudna’s motions seem purposeful. Imogen bumps their heads together, or gets a foot caught in the sheets, or touches part of Laudna she hadn’t meant to. Meanwhile, Laudna's hands are always in the right place, Laudna’s kisses always find their mark, and Imogen is left panting.
So Imogen finds herself only in her underwear, her other clothes expertly removed by Laudna. She is laying on her side, Laudna kissing her neck, and Laudna’s fingers trail down her belly until they reach this last piece of clothing. The fingers skip up and touch down again at her thighs, drawing lines up one side and then the other. Imogen groans, tries to position her hips so Laudna’s fingers land on her groin, but to no avail. Laudna’s fingers dance away each time they touch fabric and Imogen can’t see.
Imogen slides her own hands from Laudna’s waist up to her back. Laudna is in a similar state of undress. She pulls lightly so that Laudna can drape herself over her. The press of Laudna’s skin over her body makes her hands clench against Laudna’s back.
Do you like this? Imogen asks.
There’s a nod against her neck. Laudna doesn’t stop her nipping and kissing there.
Do you want to touch me?
Now the kissing stops. May I? And the thought sounds so small that it makes Imogen want to cry.
Touch me. She takes one of Laudna’s hand in hers, slides it inside the waistband of her underwear. She feels a trembling pass through Laudna as their knuckles become slick, and she maneuvers herself so that Laudna can finger her.
Laudna explores, and Imogen guides her. As Laudna becomes more confident, Imogen’s hip rocking becomes more forceful, and her thoughts less coherent. Laudna is sucking at the pulse point in her neck, fingers diving in and out, and Imogen is suddenly afraid of running out of time — running out of darkness to hide in.
I love you, Laudna. The thought forms unbidden. And it’s the sort of thing they say to each other all the time, but Imogen means it differently this time. She wonders if Laudna can tell, if the emotion behind the words is somehow carried through their telepathic link.
The gush of warmth she feels from Laudna’s mind makes her think so, even if the words are not repeated. There’s a frenzied burst of motion from Laudna, and a burst of warmth between Imogen’s legs to go with it though, and she collapses back on the bed just as the darkness fades.
Laudna curls up in the fetal position, facing away. Imogen pulls the blankets over them, wraps herself around Laudna’s form. The darkness is gone, but neither feels the need to get dressed.
“Goodnight, Laudna.”
There’s a murmured acknowledgement.
I love you, Imogen follows up, but that doesn’t garner a response. There’s only a twinge of doubt along with embarrassment that forms in Laudna’s mind, and Imogen’s heart breaks.
5
After that, things do change a little. The tenor of their nightly trysts becomes more intense, more hurried. Imogen wishes they could slow down, take their time. Imogen wishes she could show Laudna how much she’s loved.
See, Laudna usually avoids letting Imogen touch her. It’s not outright refusal, never explicit, just clever evasions and always running out of time.
But the third night they spend at Zhudanna’s, Imogen is determined. Their first night had been consumed with exhaustion, magic spent after dealing with the shade creepers. Their second night they had been quiet and reserved, wary of waking or scandalizing Zhudanna, but in the morning she had not seemed any wiser. So now that they are finally in Jrusar, with a place to stay and their objective in sight, Imogen is intent on Laudna.
When the familiar darkness envelops her, Imogen shirks her clothes, presses her naked body next to Laudna. Thin hands begin their usual journey but pause when they encounter no fabric.
Imogen kisses her, first on the cheek, then working her way across to Laudna’s lips. Laudna’s hands grip tightly to her bare flesh, and Imogen starts pulling at Laudna’s clothes. They stop making out only long enough to get Laudna’s shirt off.
Imogen brings her hands to Laudna’s body, feels a thrill when Laudna bites at her lip as palms pass over her breasts.
Is this ok?
Laudna’s enthusiastic nod is all Imogen needs. Imogen sucks on Laudna’s tongue as her hands drift lower, and her lips move to Laudna’s chest at the same time as her hands slide down Laudna’s hips.
Part of Imogen hates that she’s thinking about time, about how fast this is, about how she has to fit all her love into these ten minute slices. So she focuses on the skin underneath, the erect nipples in her mouth, the feel of Laudna’s belly muscles flexing, the curve of the bone where the hips meet the legs. When Imogen tries to send a hand down from Laudna’s belly though, one of Laudna’s hand holds her in place.
Imogen?
Imogen keeps that hand still. Instead, she takes Laudna’s other hand and puts it between her legs. She rubs herself on Laudna’s hand while breathing heavily on Laudna’s chest.
As Imogen’s hips accelerate, Laudna’s resolve slips. The hands clasped to Laudna’s lower belly drift lower still. There are coarse hairs around Imogen’s fingers, and she can feel dampness between them. Imogen does nothing more than curl her fingers and Laudna moans, deep and throaty. Laudna pushes the hand down between her legs and presses it into herself. Imogen is in awe of how wet Laudna feels, how it has spread everywhere already. Laudna’s inner thighs are coated and Imogen’s hand slips easily between them.
The darkness flickers on and off a few times very quickly. Laudna grunts, and her eyes are closed, so Imogen doesn’t know if she notices at first. And Imogen has never seen her like this — eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with rapid breaths, faint sheen of sweat glistening on her body. In the dim light, Laudna is ethereal and elegant and excited and exciting. She is captivating. But when her eyes open and she catches Imogen looking at her, the darkness returns in full force.
There is panic in Laudna's mind, and Imogen would give anything to make it go away. Imogen leans forward to where she remembers Laudna was, rains kisses down on Laudna’s face. It’s ok, you don’t have to hide.
And Imogen can feel the hesitation in Laudna, the desire to let go, but also the mortifying fear of being seen. There are convulsions around Imogen’s fingers, Laudna squeezing her in a death grip. She can sense Laudna walking right up to the edge, but there’s no willingness to jump. Time is running out.
Laudna retreats. She doesn’t give in, doesn’t let go. She reasserts control over herself and pulls away. I love you, Imogen. There’s a press of lips to Imogen’s mouth, a long sensual kiss, just the tiniest bit reserved, almost an apology.
When the darkness ends a few seconds later, Laudna is hidden, the sheets pulled up over her shoulders. Imogen slides down alongside her, places a reassuring hand on Laudna’s back. I love you so much.
And in the moonlight, Imogen can see the black ichor dripping from her fingers.
+1
The next morning, Imogen wakes with the dawn. She is still naked, and she can see Laudna’s bare shoulder poking out where the blanket slipped off. It smells like sex in their room. And in the light of day, the dark stains on her fingers and the sheets seem the slightest bit lewd.
She considers rolling out of bed, washing off perhaps, never mind that she’s still aroused. Without thinking though, she brings her darkened fingers to her face and sniffs.
Laudna is staring right at her. Laudna is awake.
And Imogen should be the one embarrassed, but darkness fills the room once more.
Laudna pounces on her, naked from the night before, crushes their mouths together. Imogen accepts the kiss eagerly, pushes her tongue out to find Laudna’s. This kiss has an undercurrent of lust, the itch of unfinished business, a continuation of the previous night. Laudna is just a little bit feral, and Imogen wonders if maybe she too should try to learn a darkness spell.
This time, their kissing escalates quickly. Lips and tongues and hands and fingers roam. Their bodies remember where they left off last night, and soon Laudna is on her back with Imogen’s hand between her legs. And Imogen can’t see, so she reaches out with her mind, finds Laudna’s consciousness alongside hers and settles in with it, even as her fingers find their rhythm. Laudna lets her in, welcomes her. They fit together, physically and mentally. And in the magical darkness, Imogen shouts her love. Laudna!
And Laudna yells right back. Not out loud of course. Laudna is a blubbering wanton mess. And Imogen isn’t trying to pry, it’s surface thoughts only, but Laudna’s thoughts are all jumbled and stumbling. Imogen— Don’t stop— I— I can’t— Imogen— Imogen— Please— Imogen— Mostly, it’s a chorus of Imogen’s name repeated over lilting tremulous music.
There are hands on Imogen’s hips, clenching and unclenching. They drift lower and slip off, before being put right back. Imogen still can’t see, but Laudna’s touch is familiar. Her hands are cool and grasping and frantic. Laudna’s desire is being shouted into her brain, and Imogen thinks she might combust.
Because Imogen has heard others’ desire before, sometimes directed at her, but never intentional. There are too many people in the world with unpleasant thoughts not meant to be heard. But this is Laudna, and everything is different with Laudna. Lauda is gentle and caring and warm and shy, all at the same time. Laudna is everything that Imogen has ever wanted.
For just a moment, there is clarity, and Imogen gets one concrete thought from Laudna. I love you so much, Imogen. Please love me. Just love me. And the intensity of it almost makes Imogen stop.
Almost. She doesn’t of course. She leans closer instead, becomes more deliberate with the motions of her hand, withdrawing her fingers completely before sliding them back. Laudna groans into the space between them, and Imogen can feel the breath on her face. She can feel many breaths on her face, much faster than Laudna’s usual cadence.
She follows the exhalations of air to Laudna’s mouth, covers the lips with her own, feels the lurch in Laudna’s hips when they make contact. Can I see you, Laudna? You don’t have to hold on. I want to see you.
The whimper that comes in reply makes Imogen quake at her core.
But I’m not beautiful like you, Laudna retorts, and the slowing of Laudna’s hips guts Imogen.
Oh Laudna, you are so beautiful.
There’s a long pause before the magical darkness falls away. It’s still dim, with only the pre-dawn light filtering through drawn curtains, but there are shapes and lines and curves now, instead of unmitigated blankness. Laudna has her head turned to the side, unwilling to meet Imogen’s eyes. Laudna’s chest heaves with exertion, and Imogen imagines the pale skin tinged with purple blushing that isn’t visible in the low light.
Imogen curls her fingers, smiles when Laudna twitches in response. She speaks out loud, whispers her longing into the room. “Hey, look at me. I want to see you.”
Laudna turns, but only a little. Her face, framed by the dawn, is still only half pointed towards Imogen. Her eyes close, and then reopen, but close again after a few seconds.
Imogen presses a kiss to Laudna’s cheek, feels the flush underneath. “I love you. I want to see you, and hear you, and feel you.” She settles onto Laudna’s thigh, presses herself against it. When Laudna’s hands reach for her, Imogen places them on her breasts, shivers as cold fingers caress her. She clamps down with her hips, drags herself back and forth on top of Laudna until dark eyes look up at her, then she starts moving her fingers again. You never have to hide from me.
And Imogen opens her own mind, pours all of her feelings into Laudna, because words would never be enough for this. She is burning up, but Laudna is cool against her. Laudna’s thigh is slick from Imogen, and every time her leg shakes, Imogen trembles too. She can feel wetness pooling in her hand, and she’s certain there will be another ink-like stain in the sheets, but she can’t tear her eyes away from Laudna’s.
Laudna is looking at her, really looking at her, with that perfect unblinking stare of hers, and all Imogen can think of is this moment. There is music playing in her head, a backdrop to their gasping breaths and grunts of exertion. Gradually, the tempo increases, and Imogen imagines it’s getting louder, building up to a crescendo. Her movements keep time with the music, both the rocking of her hips and the dance of her fingers. Without words, without thoughts, they both become committed. Laudna doesn’t look away anymore. Laudna bucks her hips to mirror every one of Imogen’s motions. Laudna’s hands squeeze in time with each thrust. Laudna’s eyes bore straight into her.
Imogen knows that Laudna can see better than her in the dark, but she is beyond being self-conscious. She stares right back, grinds herself against Laudna, and she can’t tell if this is her excitement or Laudna’s. She’s not sure if it matters.
She sees Laudna splayed out before her, dripping into the sheets, then her vision flashes to a view of herself, looming overhead intently. The two images flip between each other in her mind, Laudna’s face and then her own, going so fast until they almost seem like one. Laudna with violet eyes, Imogen with dark hair, Laudna with a yellow scarf, Imogen with longer teeth. Imogen can feel muscles squeezing around her fingers, she can feel fingers inside herself. She feels beautiful. Imogen is so beautiful.
Imogen has never felt this beautiful before. There are drum beats and squelching and cymbals and moans, and Imogen isn’t sure where all the sounds are coming from, if they are Laudna or herself, if they are inside or outside. All she knows is her and Laudna, minds entwined, and it feels like they’re standing at the edge of a cliff. Someone screams, just a short strangled cry, and Imogen lets herself fall. Warmth washes over her, spreading from her belly through all her extremities, shaking both of them until there is only silence, held breaths, and stuttering hearts.
When they calm, and Imogen collapses on top of Laudna, thin arms wrap themselves around Imogen and Laudna cries. Her eyes are closed, but the tears flow freely now, dampening the pillow where they fall. I don’t know how to tell you how much I love you, Imogen.
But you did. I felt it. And Imogen can sense the uncertainty start to coalesce in Laudna even before thoughts are formed. She flexes her mind, hopes that Laudna can feel the same thing through their connection — the comfort, the satisfaction, the happiness, the absolute conviction. You showed yourself to me. And I love you just as much. You will always be enough for me.
Laudna opens her eyes, looks down at the violet ones laying on her chest, and both sets blink back tears. What did I ever do to deserve you?
Don’t say that. You didn’t have to do anything. And Imogen turns her head just a bit so she can kiss Laudna’s chest, marvels at how strong the heartbeat feels underneath. You deserve to be happy, more than anyone else.