Chapter Text
It takes almost two years of them being friends for Laudna to learn the truth about what Imogen does for work. She works nights herself; that’s when she prefers to do the bulk of her labour. Sure, she might take appointments during the daylight, but the cutting of cloth, the sewing, the detail work – that all takes place in the warm light of her workshop in the wee hours of the morning.
Laudna had never had a reason to question or second-guess that Imogen was available during the day. They both had a tendency of sleeping in, but that just made being able to get together for homemade brunch at two in the afternoon an unexpected gift. Imogen said she does voice acting, that she does her best work at night, and Laudna could relate to that.
And it’s not like Imogen is lying. What she does… it is a kind of voice acting, depending on who you ask. Laudna had just… never imagined it as a possibility. Not to say that Imogen was too young or too innocent or too naive to engage in this kind of work, but there really were no indicators Laudna could think of.
The phone ringing – she’s never known Imogen’s phone to be set to anything other than vibrate – is jarring against the backdrop of the movie they’re curled up watching together on the couch. There’s a soft hiss of a curse dropping from Imogen’s lips.
“I’m so sorry, Laudna, I forgot about an extra work call,” Imogen says apologetically, getting up from the couch with a wince.
“You can take it here? Either you can use my room or I can go in there for a bit,” Laudna offers easily, opting to stand, too.
“If you don’t mind, I don’t think this will take long? Give me, like, fifteen minutes and I’ll be right back?” Imogen says, already moving towards Laudna’s bedroom. She still hasn’t answered the call, though her thumb hovers over her screen.
“Of course, not to worry, enjoy,” Laudna says, smiling encouragingly.
Imogen gives a soft laugh. “It’s just work,” she says. “I’ll see you in a bit!” she says, disappearing into Laudna’s room.
The door isn’t quite shut before Imogen answers the phone, that’s the only reason why Laudna can hear her. The words are low, spoken in a raspy, almost sultry coating around her usually endearing drawl that invites one to swallow thickly. They’re laced with so much innuendo, it’s impossible for Laudna to ignore.
“Hello handsome, you’re early tonight. I hope that means you have lots planned for us.”
The door closes softly with a click and Imogen’s voice grows muffled by the heavy oak.
So, yes. Laudna can hazard a very good guess at what it is, exactly, that Imogen does to earn her living.
And she can never bring it up.