Chapter Text
Laudna shrouds herself over Imogen's back, their legs intertwined under their shared blanket.
When they lie so close Laudna can easily believe the warmth she syphons is her own; that the regular, slow and deep breaths that cause her own body to rise along with Imogen are shared and just as beneficial between the two of them.
If she believes it, then it can be magic.
Magic - she delicately draws the tip of her ichored nail down Imogen's forearm, following a path carved by a lightning strike scar before tangling in the welcoming snare of a knot of green ribbon and red thread.
She thumbs over the bracelet; aware of how her own is pressed between their arms in one of the many places that their bodies currently meet, aware of how it would leave an imprint on her flesh if it had more fat and elasticity, aware of the feeling of the further fray on Imogen's bracelet in comparison to her own, the worries she has worn into its fabric with her anxious habitual movements.
(aware that it seems wrong to cast mending without asking, that it would be as surface level as plastering on a smile.)
The green of the ribbon is silken, especially in comparison to the unravelling nature of the red twine, a blood-dyed sturdier fiber like threads of muscles tweezered apart; for it must be robust enough to tie skulls to taxidermy, to hang her utilities from her belts, and so it seems fitting; that the ribbon should be silk, be bows of lush green accentuating softness in all curves and fur.
Imogen's positioned like one of the Things on Laudna's belt; not noosed at giant’s knuckle but a Ruidian specimen all the same, curled-in and alien-in-a-glass-jar fetal - her subconscious laying her prone on their bed roll, her mother's voice in her nightmares, in her dreams
Laudna wonders how far the bracelet frays when she stands in the red storm, if loose threads cyclone and land in her hair
how often Imogen counts each braid of it between the pads of her fingertips like a bead for a prayer
if it ever unravels and lays itself out as rope, ties around rock and aids her escape
good thing then, that Laudna’s twine is supportive, spun from an immortal unending spool, that Fearne’s is soft, healing hand to her storm-calloused touch
if it could tether them there, to her dreams
to where there is the moon
and so is here
then-
Laudna acknowledges one of the many things she often has to, but would rather she didn't. Subtle as the purple glow from inside of her chest.
(if everyone didn't know otherwise, she could say that the glow was Imogen’s.)
but they know otherwise. They were there when she woke up, they stood around the laboratory-cum-operating table as her chest was flayed open.
and all of the Hells can see this too
the string of glowing red energy that stretches across the dark natural stone cavern that lends itself as a bedroom.
Tethers Imogen to Fearne.
Laudna parts her hand from Imogen's wrist; reaches out, her bony elbow cushioned by the swell of Imogen's hip.
Her index finger unfurls, beckons at the god-eating tie as if she could pluck it like a lute string, wonders if the note would change with their distance, grabs at it as if it were a lasso Imogen had cast and that Laudna could grasp and reel Fearne towards them
the mental image of it makes Laudna chortle, her brittle bones surely sooner snapping as a dissonant chord plays-
Imogen stirs
"Honey, did you say somethin'?" she blearily whispers.
"I'm sorry, were you sleeping?"
"No, I was just thinkin'."
"With your eyes closed?"
"With ma eyes closed." Imogen turns over her shoulder and kisses Laudna on the end of her permanently broken nose. "What were you laughin' about?"
Laudna's focus darts to where her hand had grasped for energy unattainable to her.
"I was thinking about my arms popping out of their sockets after trying to wrangle Fearne."
Imogen stifles her laugh, her dimples drawing in shadows.
"There is a lot of her."
she quiets as from a few feet away, Fearne gently snores.
the scoff Imogen's throat gives is an affectionate echo, a reverberation of rumble travelled between them sympathetic and synchronised. Shared. Tethered.
"mm." Laudna shortly hums. She can't disagree.
She returns her hand to lay ontop of Imogen's upturned - though it is hard for her eyes to ignore the only source of light in the room, despite her dark vision.
Imogen's fingers thread between her own; squeeze tentatively, questioningly.
Laudna's head is rested over Imogen's shoulder, sunken into the crook of her neck, her soft lilac hair pillowing her pale castle-ruin cheek
their line of sight can't be too dissimilar, surely Imogen can't ignore the spectral tightrope illuminating between herself and the faun.
(Laudna hadn't done a very good job of making it across the one over the river.)
Imogen can most likely feel it, even if her eyes are closed.
Thinking.
How much of that is her own?
The gold of her circlet a juxtaposition of hot flesh meeting cold, a flux permanently balanced between their two body tempratures.
"You have said before, that we're a lot..."
"We are, but we wouldn't be us if we weren't. It's what makes us right, it's why we work." the hush to Imogen's voice doesn't dampen its affection.
Laudna props herself up on her left elbow, right arm still draped over Imogen but now her head hovering over the other woman's, their hair a mass of wiry blacks and wavy lilacs covering the pillow
Laudna wonders how the two would look braided,
of seafoam green-
"And Fearne?"
Imogen's brow furrows.
Fearne?
Imogen opens their mental connection to excuse the third woman from their conversation.
The two of you…
Imogen's cheeks flush, imperceptible to anyone else within their nook or the neighbouring-nook ‘rooms’ (Laudna would know easily how to make a room of them), despite their sleeping, despite Orym’s perception. He can't see in the dark. He can't get to know everything. And Chet-
well, he'd probably argue he could smell the blood anyhow.
I am not jealous. I do not envy your posistion. I am glad you have someone-
Laudna, what you talkin’ about? I have you.
You have both of us, and I really am thankful for that.
both- Imogen mirrors, a slightly confused crinkle still on her brow and a rosy flush under the peach fuzz. Laudna is inherently enamoured by it.
I will always stand by the belief - my belief - that you should do what you want and you alone, but I am thankful-
Laudna leans down and kisses Imogen on her forehead just to the right of the jewel embellishing her circlet; her lips feel the skin rise, in relief or surprise, maybe both, maybe something else.
I am thankful that you are not alone in this, I am thankful that you have someone to share it with-
her grip tightens around Imogen’s, and she extends their arms by the hand from out of the confines of their bed roll, running just parralel to the tether between Imogen and Fearne.
-and the ‘thing’ I should be directing that thanks towards is Fearne; because I certainly don't like the idea of directing it towards anyone or anything else that's involved.
Imogen's lips part as if they mean to form words, but only a long and slightly shaken exhale departs from between them.
No, certainly no thanks to her mother, nor Fearne’s father, not the gods, or their predator.
Don't stunt yourself, don't close yourself off. What connects us is what gives us power.
She pushes - or rather - Imogen allows herself to be pushed by the shoulder, laying back flat against the bed roll.
Laudna can see it now, now that she isn't flush to Imogen's back and she's looking slightly down;
the dull purple glow that radiates from under her ribcage, barely bleeding its way over the collar and between the embroidery of her blouse,
how the red tether leaving Imogen's stomach like an umbilical cord now arches over in its mooring to Fearne, not caring who or what object it moves through, like a ghost unrestrained by mortal quandaries such as walls.
(but it is real)
and it moves through Laudna, so she must not be a ghost, but also something solid, can cast a shadow, something that has tethers of its own, silver turning into gold,
the Hells saw those all, too.
Laudna can feel the way the notion of it pulls at the muscles in her face, her gums exposed to the stale and dusty moon-cavern atmosphere.
Imogen's torso rises and falls below her, her dominant hand almost pinned stretched out to the side, nail through butterfly wing, suspended taxidermy in time for Laudna's mind’s eye.
She cups Laudna's face with the other, who turns into the touch and kisses the palm, before moving for the hem of her nightshirt.
Laudna- Imogen starts, but the order is left open, open to Laudna’s interpretation,
and her name sounded a lot like a plea.
and it's soft like silk ribbon; the linen bunching in her hand and the brush of Imogen's stomach against her knuckles.
The purple scars framing either side of Imogen's hips glimmer opalescent under the dual glows of purple and red, white-scarred tan skin and pink gnarled flesh, soft fair hairs that stand on end, and the smattering of coarser, darker, curling hairs that fade out below her navel.
The tether anchors itself into her belly button, spreading out like branches in roots or veins dividing as it meets her, reaching out towards the lightning brandishing.
Curious… Laudna declares; shuffling her ass further down Imogen's thighs as she straddles her legs.
Imogen had mentioned more than once that sometimes she ‘feels a little like a specimen bein’ examined on a doctor's table’ under Laudna, or ‘like a hide bein’ assessed for what crafting purpose it could be used best’-
She said it most affectionately.
Laudna laps her tongue at Imogen's midriff.
Do you think Fearne can feel this?
~
It tickles momentarily, and then Imogen's eyes roll; greeted by the barely-lit sight of Laudna's tongue being pierced by threaded red light, heat spreading through her like wildfire at the suggestion of Fearne being aware of any of this-
Gods, what is this? Caus it sure seems like Laudna initiated talking about Fearne and then licked Imogen's sensitive stomach
and now she's kissing it all over
and Fearne is sleeping just a few steps away from them-
Fuck. fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck - if the reality doesn't burn hot through her, the contact with the woolen bedroll suddenly all too much.
Laudna, Fearne’s right there-
Yes darling, she is. Is that a problem? Do you think you'll wake her up? Laudna asks as she pulls the many of her errant hairs back into the bun tied with red ribbon, face alabaster and red underlit ominously yet somehow performing absolute innocence. Or we could wake her, if you want? I'm sure she wouldn't mind- she declares as she shimmies herself a space between Imogen's legs.
and it would be an absolute lie to say that a spike of arousal did not peak in response to that; a pathetic little mewl of a protest that couldn't fully fledge catching at the back of her throat.
She really wants to kiss you - at the very least - not that you're unaware. Laudna curls strands of Imogen's pubic hair around her finger as if absent-mindedly, as if the motion is not full of intimacy, as if any thought could be completely void behind such a statement.
The two of you would be a sight. I've certainly thought about it.
Holy shit.
Imogen burns
Laudna makes sure that she meets her gaze; eyes large and beadier than usual in the night, before lowering her skull, her teeth nicking at Imogen's hip bone, and Imogen has to bite down on her bottom lip.
Laudna just as quickly soothes the yet to be blossomed blemish with a kiss, Imogen taking the oppurtunity to say something-
Ya have? - something dumb apparently, not very sexy or imaginative. Excuse her for not feeling like she can operate at full capacity right now.
Ludinus is far from her mind (would be kind of him and his monologues to stay away); she can even forget that they are on the fuckin’ moon.
Laudna chuckles.
Two beautiful, strong, capable women I highly admire who clearly have chemistry with eachother? Imogen she's proposed to kissing you whilst I've been there multiple times.
I know that, s’just, are you– are you alright with that?
I would have said if it made me uncomfortable.
You would.
There is a pride in Laudna's demeanour that does not shift, polished past a shining purely presentational pauldron if anything.
Imogen is so proud of her, too.
And you?
An’ me? oh, for sure, she's really attractive-
-and charming-
and charmin’.
They both pause in the slight absurdity, before smiling as brightly as they can in the dark at one another, Imogen muting a snort with the back of her hand, Laudna turning into her hip.
So it's alright?
More than alright. I highly endorse it.
and this-
-I would still really like to make you come in my mouth, yes.
the throb between Imogen's legs reawakens her to her bare sex exposed to the night air.
oh, alright - I mean, yeah - please-
Laudna does not move with any haste. Yes, she is quiet in pardon of the situation, sleek as a shadow, but she takes her time at a leisurely pace, taking every oppurtunity to adorn kisses at every point a muscle or bone surfaces or to run her canines over Imogen's tanned and freckled skin.
eventually, finally, she sticks out the length of her tongue, drawing a maddening line from the bottom of Imogen's vulva to just below her clit-
maddening restraint. She must feel delighted to show off her restraint lately.
Soo just out of curiosity, have you - she kisses her labia Oh I don't knoww, fantasised about her at all?
Imogen should not be surprised at Laudna's mental melodic capabilities; maybe it's more an acknowledgement to awareness, being aware in that so far Imogen has often been the more ‘forward’ one when it came to sex - and it's not just with sex either - since Delilah got put on that leash and locked in a cage Laudna has been finding more and more of herself, if she'll allow herself it she would say that maybe it's her own influence too-
it would be a disservice to be dishonest.
once or twice…
I can see in the dark - you're blushing furiously.
Your mouth’s on my pussy!
the shadows exaggerate the raise of one of Laudna's brows, Imogen whining as Laudna removes herself from the aforementioned contact.
Give me the details.
Gods (please don't answer right now.)
Imogen swallows.
I mean yeah, I thought about kissin’ her, thought about you watching, thought about you kissin’ her-
Laudna presses her open palm against Imogen's cunt, heel pressing into her opening and the base of her fingers against her clit and fuck, if it ain't obvious from how Laudna's skin moves against her how thoroughly slick she is-
Tell me more.
or that Laudna can feel it too from how she says that-
and yeah, Imogen can't see for shit in the dark, but she can feel the blood heating her cheeks, can feel it radiate against the linen over her chest and bunched at her neck from where Laudna pushed her long nightshirt up
if only Laudna's cold hands were also holding her face, cupping her tits-
in a dread form she could easily have enough hands to satiate, would happily craft many inspired just to please her.
Imogen throbs, desperate, seeking purchase
-thought about grabbing her by her horns, and her tail, if it would wag if I excited her, if I fucked her good enough-
Laudna bestows an audible sigh of approval, maybe agreeing that Imogen sure does know how to do such, gliding the heel of her palm up the length of Imogen's sex to where she craves the friction most, and it's not fair, caus Imogen has to roll her hips to meet it
I thought - about her h-hand - y’know, the gnarled one-
and it's not breathless when her speech is telepathic and does not require it, but it is embaressingly damning, how her words are stuttered and stumbled from all of the stimuli
as if on cue, sharp nail points tease pressure on the fat of Imogen's inner thigh, waiting
yesss-
the open palm at her sex coaxing, the nails waiting to be driven in at her thigh should Imogen push to meet the pleasure by proxy, the beads of sweat gathering on her forehead at her hairline, dripping down her neck to the pillow, Fearne so close by but in such dark that Imogen can't see her, just the glowing red thread that gives away her positioning, her eyes could be open, Imogen could be illuminated under Laudna's ministrations-
she's waiting, patiently, always so patient
thought about her holding me down with her vines whilst the two of ya’ll marked me up with your nails…
Imogen takes reward for herself, rolling her hips against Laudna's pressing hand, the talons on her other pin-pricking into the tender skin of Imogen's inner thigh as her clit attempts to fuck the waiting pressure, creating a loop of cause and effect, sting and pleasure
You'd be covered in so many pretty markings, cross-hatched like a beautiful etching-
her clit twitches to the image Laudna shares, that Fearne and herself make of her; pinned down and spread open and desperate, black ichor fingerprints and red clawed scratches and purple thrumming scars covering Imogen's body in an intricate lattice, sheets messed with arousal.
Laudna moves her hand to relieve Imogen of some of her effort, leaving a slight opening between her middle and ring finger for Imogen to fuck between, and Imogen's head rolls back from recognition, whimpers, from the touch-read familiarity that the sensitive skin can feel of the band of the ring she gave Laudna back in Bassarus.
Oh Imogen, you're an absolute mess.
she is, she is, she is.
she is, she can feel it; she can't spare any thought for being embarrassed, can't help but buck against the underside of Laudna's fingers, against the promise she made that day without words.
and she doesn't need to explain that it's not all because of Fearne, it's the intimacy of sharing truths, it's Laudna asking of them
it's the way Imogen knows Laudna would veil them both in a zone of darkness should Imogen feel any shame, would stop if she asked
please-
Please what, darling?
your mouth - I'm gonna come-
her purple lips rouged by the tether, smile prideful as her bones groan and she shuffles back, lowers herself to the bedroll, bowed between Imogen's legs
I love you-
is all - everything - Imogen can muster as Laudna licks her inner thigh where it still stings from her nails' punctures.
I love you too.
she laps the side of Imogen's clit as she had kissed the side of the jewel in her circlet, taking the infernal bunch of nerves into her mouth and sucking on her as she flicks over them with her tongue
it's the way Imogen is doing everything she can to not rut recklessly into Laudna's face, fuck that dexterous tongue, her mouth, chin, nose, anything-
please-
she has to focus on her breathing. She has to. Has to focus on her breathing because she doesn't want to wake up Fearne, has to focus on her breathing because she is already embaressingly close
Laudna's barely tonguing her, barely following a set rhythm, just lapping at her wherever she fancies, whenever, teasing, giving, teasing, taking, tongue wet curling flicking lips pursuing mouth-open teasing adoring making out with her cunt sloppily, doting the softest peck to the peak of her clit
she can't look Laudna in the eyes without acknowledging the red tether that splits her head in two, dancing with the red ribbons in her hair before lazily bending off to the left, into the darkness
what if she can feel it? what if Imogen delved into Fearne’s dream right now and saw the two of them?
saw the three of them?
and she had been doing such a good job of keeping quiet - Laudna would be the first to tell her as such - but that thought breaches her mind at the same time when Laudna's tongue flicks and then sucks with just the right pressure just right there and Imogen can hear how soaked with arousal she is and realises just how obscene those sounds are in an almost silent space, nevermind her attempts to muffle her moaning
“ffuck, Laudna-” she groans, momentary ecstacy sharing space with the blood and magic in her veins, knuckles as white as her lover’s as she fists both the bed roll and her nightshirt, hips rising off of the moon’s surface of their own accord,
and Laudna finally keeps her pace; devoted, unwavering, and persistent as she coaxes everything out of Imogen she can get, in a manner almost cruel, to make a display of what an absolute whining wreck Imogen is; torso spasming, a second orgasm convinced out of her with such ease that it barely gives the first one time to leave
She has to pull Laudna away from her cunt by the grip of her hair, the scruff of her neck, all around Laudna's mouth and over her chin illuminated glistening red by the strengthened luminosity of the tether that passes through her, barely getting a moment to catch a breath-
“Are you guys having fun without me?”