nonopi imagines

The watcher scoots closer to her on the bed, her warm hand coming to rest on her cheek, her fingertips just brushing the bottoms of her feathers. "You're important to me, Pallegina."

She feels the birds in her heart chitter away and she needs to be sure, because she's never felt this before, she has nothing to compare it to. She needs to know. "Be straightforward with me," she says without a waver in her voice. Her hand closes around the watchers as she awaits an answer, pressing the other woman's palm flat against her cheek so she could feel the searing reminder of affection.

"Okay," she smiles, her face moving closer and closer, closing the distance. "I want to be near you always, I want you by my side, I want to kiss you."

"Then do it." Pallegina isn't even sure that she feels the same devotion that those few words seemed to hold, but she wants to find out. She wants to match her, blow for blow, and see how they both turn out on the other side.

She closes her eyes and waits until she feels the soft press of lips on her own. She doesn't know to reciprocate, but the watcher isn't perturbed. She slowly moves up her face, kissing her cheeks and brow, her chin and her neck, where skin becomes feathers and feathers become skin. When the watcher returns to her lips, Pallegina doesn't let her escape her grasp again, she pushes forward to meet her in the middle.

—

She could not believe what was happening. She fought so hard, her sword fiery and ruthless as she pivoted between different members of the crew. Other godlikes, just like her. People who suffered like her. There's not enough of them to make a difference, but how many lives did a pirate crew of godlikes change? How many did they save from certain harm? How could she so easily tear down a community that was her own? And small enough to fit in the palm of her hand?

But Giacolo only wanted to help. Sweet, tireless Giacolo. Now his soul begins its journey back to the wheel. And Pallegina is left to witness and remember.

She begins to walk to his body, it's not like she's never seen a dead body before. But the familiarity of it, the finality of it, hits her hard. The watcher stands quietly beside her, all she wants to do is turn and push her face into her neck. To let the tears flow unhindered, to be held while she breaks apart for just a moment, only to be rebuilt again stronger than before.

But everyone else is there. She takes a deep breath and turns away. "Let's go," she croaks out.

—

Pallegina manages to keep it inside herself until they leave Dunnage, despite its attempts to flitter out of her with each deep breath, shaking and sharp. She collapses on the watcher’s bed in the captain’s quarters, trying not to think of Giacolo’s face when they arrived, the hope she saw in his eyes. It hurts so badly, it burns in her throat and behind her eyes and she keeps rubbing her face, wanting the feelings to leave her behind.

She sheds her armor haphazardly and curls up close to the wall, screwing her eyes shut. If she could just sleep, she wouldn’t feel like this anymore. She wouldn’t feel like such a failure.

It’s not long before night falls and the room is pitch black. Pallegina’s keen ears pick up the watcher’s footsteps before she enters, the light of candle glowing softly against the walls. The bed dips and she has to bite back the urge to push the other woman away, to deny her the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable like this.

“I brought you some food,” she whispers, her warm fingers trace behind her ear and down her neck and the tenderness almost drowns her, battering against the walls that hold everything in and keep the rest out.

When Pallegina doesn’t move, the watcher tries again. She sets the plate aside and lays down behind her, scooping her up in her arms and pulling her close. “Is this okay?” What is she supposed to say to that? She doesn’t know. Is it okay? She’s grieved on her own, she always has, what’s the point of sharing it with someone else? Will it make it easier? Will it make it harder? She’s too tired to keep asking questions. So she just pulls the watcher’s hands from her waist and up to her chest, covering them with her own.

They lay like that for a while while Pallegina focuses on her breathing and keeping her mind blessedly blank. She focuses on the way her knees feel against the rough boards that make the ship walls, she focuses on the way her face smushes against the linen pillow, and she focuses on the way her back presses against the watcher and how she could feel her breathing too.

“After you left,” the watcher says into her neck, removing her hand from Pallegina’s. “I collected Giacolo’s research and I found this in his things.” Her palm returns in front of her face, holding a pendant on a silver chain. “I thought you’d want to have it.”

Oh. Pallegina finally cracks, like a dam bursting with spring run-off. She grabs the pendant and clutches it against her forehead as sobs wrack her body. Something to remember him by. She saw his face and he thought she could save him. But she couldn't. Not even with the watcher by her side. She's never cried so much before. She never felt like tears did much of anything, but this right now felt like agony. And maybe she's so used to her own loss and tragedy, that witnessing someone else's, someone she admired and even loved, was too much. Giacolo didn't deserve this. But did she?

“Travis,” he looked to the side as he said it, trying to give an air of nonchalance to the request.

“Mm-hmm, Travis then.” You put your book down and got up to lean against the table. “What can I get you?”  

“Do you take off-menu requests?”

“Not usually,” you pause for effect, a grin sneaking its way onto your face, “but for you, I’ll do it.”

Travis looked away again with a smile, and when he looked back to you, he looked tired but happy and it was infectious. You don’t know what changed in the months since you first got here, but he wasn’t the drab, irritable guy you met when your tires got stuck in the snow.

“Alright, do you know Arnold?”

“Arnold Palmer? Of course. Is that what you’re drinking?” you asked, already grabbing a cup and turning to fill it with ice.

“Yeah. And whatever you’re having.”

“Whatever I’m having?”

“Yes,” he paused, and you resisted the urge to turn around immediately and spill the iced tea you were pouring into his cup everywhere. “I was thinking we could go for a walk. If you want.”

You felt your face heating up, the butterflies filling up your stomach in excitement. You tried to focus, pouring lemonade to fill the rest of the cup, throwing in the straw, and presenting it to Travis. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you smiled at him, trying to catch his dark eyes but they were evasive, never resting on you for too long. “I’ll make it a double then.”

You quickly made a second Arnold Palmer while Travis asked Kaylee to help make drinks for the kids while the two of you were gone. You saw Chris say something to his brother, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing, then waving him off towards you.

“You two have fun,” Kaylee teased as she took a seat in your chair. You shook your head and rolled your eyes, jogging ahead to catch up to Travis.

“What did Chris think was so funny?”

He took a sip of his drink instead of answering immediately. “This is really good.”

“Thanks. Zested and squoze the lemons myself.”

Travis was quiet for another moment as you walked through the sunlit forest, it really was perfect here. Except for all the bugs that feasted on your unprotected skin.

“Chris laughed because this is the first time I’ve visited the camp in a long time. Especially during a lunch break.”

“You heard there was lemonade and iced tea and you had to get down here, is that it?” you offered with a laugh.

“Something like that.”

“Well, you can come to the B ‘n’ B anytime you want, and I’ll make us some Arnold Palmers.”

“Lemons are hard to find in Northkill.”

“Don’t I know it? I guess we’d have to make a day of it.” You tried to catch his eye, to help imply your meaning. You wanted to spend time with him, time where he wasn’t wearing his uniform, where he could just be Travis and maybe you could pry open his shell just a little bit more.

“Careful what you ask for,” it sounded a little strangled coming out of his mouth, like he was forcing himself to say it.

You stopped suddenly and grabbed his free hand so Travis would turn to face you, to have nowhere else to look but you. “I know exactly what I’m asking for. Look, I’ve been single for a while, but I can’t be that out of practice. There’s something here, isn’t there?”

“It’s not that simple.” He looked despondent and dark again, the way he was when you first met him. You wanted to grab his shoulders and shake it out of him, he can’t just close up and hide away when he was the one who came here. He was the one who asked you on a walk. He must want this at least as much as you, right?

Travis looked down at your hand in his and he ran his thumb across your fingers, so you did the same. When he didn’t move away, you pulled him forward so you could keep walking, trying to collect your thoughts and put them into words.

“We can keep it simple,” you said after a few minutes of silence. “We each have our own lives, you’re the sheriff, I run a bed and breakfast by myself, but there’s no reason we can’t spend our downtime with each other. Even if it’s only once in a while.”

He sighs, a range of emotions crossing his face. Frustration. Resentment. Guilt, maybe? You weren’t sure what to make of it, so you squeezed his hand in reassurance.

The trail broke way to a small clearing and a rocky outcropping that dipped into the lake. Travis steered you toward a large boulder you could both sit on in the shade. In the distance you could see where the campers were hanging out, wading into the water, and sitting on the small pier.

“How long do you have?” you questioned, sipping the last of your drink and setting it in the gravel beside you.

“Not long.” This question seemed to spur him on, he only had so long with you, afterall. And if you two left this in uncertainty, it might never happen. He leaned forward so his elbows rested on his thighs, his hands clasped together. “Sometimes I get pulled away for long periods of time. For work. For family.”

You nodded, mirroring his position so you could look at him while he spoke.

“And sometimes you’ll have questions I can’t answer.”

Well, that was a new one. You gave him a puzzled expression, but he didn’t elaborate any further. You weren’t fond of secrets.

“And I suppose I can’t ask what kind of questions.”

He shook his head.

You stared out at the water in front of you, the way it quietly lapped at the shore. It was consistent, like a heartbeat. Not even the children who disturbed it a few hundred feet away could interrupt its steady rhythm. You didn't know what Travis was talking about, and it sounded like you never will, at least from him. But if you two could share something steady and strong like waves in the lake shore, then maybe it was okay. And if it ever got to be too much, then you could break things off. It would be okay. You've always been okay.

You gently laid a hand on his knee. "Let's try it."

Travis backed away until he looked at you and saw the seriousness in your face, and maybe the hope there too. He covered his hand with yours and smiled as you scooted closer to him. "Yeah?"

“Devil.” She missed no time dropping down beside her, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t you like it? Everyone in Readceras couldn’t take their eyes off me.” She knew a deflective joke when she heard one.

“Right. I like it if you like it. Can you walk?”

There was a long pause before the Devil spoke again, like she was building herself up to admit the words. “Yes, but it’s not easy.”

“Can I carry you?” As the question left her mouth, she wished that she could see what was going through the Devil’s mind, that she could move the features on her face to help her understand what she was feeling. But she could only guess by the tone of her voice, and perhaps by the lack of movement in her body. 

Another few moments passed and the watcher was beginning to think something was really wrong, but she could still feel her soul pulsing, undulating inside her automaton body. She was still there. 

Then came a heavy sigh followed by, “Yep, just do it.”

The watcher smiled at her as she scooped up her kneeling form in her arms and turned back toward Brighthollow. She tried not to show too much excitement, she was sure that it was her fault that the Devil left after defeating Thaos in the first place. After Whitemarch, her fondness for the automaton may have been too evident, bordering on smothering. Especially for someone who lacked human companionship for so long.

On their way inside the keep, she stopped at the kitchens and requested a bowl of vinegar and salt paste as well as some cloths be brought to her chambers. The women closest looked from the watcher to the Devil and back again, “Perhaps the armory would have better supplies for you, Lady.”

The watcher shook her head and smiled again, “Let’s try this first.”

The woman nodded and they continued on their way, the watcher chuckled as she ascended the stairs. “I forgot how heavy you are.”

“It’s all muscle, watcher,” Devil replied without missing a beat. Her hollow tone was still there, but her quickness gave the watcher hope.

When they reached her room, the watcher set the Devil of Caroc down in the plush chair by the fireplace. The fire was already crackling, the light dancing off of Devil’s deep obsidian eyes as she slowly shifted into a shifting position, her head falling back against the chair.

“How are you feeling? Does this,” she trailed off, unsure what sensations applied to an automaton body. “Does this hurt?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” came her reply, the watcher imagined she watched her as she kneeled beside her chair and touched the patina on her calf. “I’m just tired. It’s exhausting to move.”

Just then, two women entered bearing a large bowl of tan paste and cloths of varying abrasiveness. The watcher thanked them and had them close the door on their way out.

“Where should I start?” She looked up to her, waiting for an answer.

“My feet, my knees, I want to walk,” her voice sounded hard, like she was trying to not to remember how difficult it was to not be able to do things, like walk around, like hold her bow, like pick a lock. 

The watcher nodded and began dismantling the complex joints of her toes and ankle. She had done this twice before. Once in Whitemarch after the Devil fell into a hot spring while they were fighting lagufaeth and she wanted to make sure she was completely dry afterward. The second time was in Twin Elms, it was pouring rain, and the Devil got mud caked all over her feet and knees, and the watcher was there again to dismantle her, clean her, and put her back together again. She remembered how nervous she felt saying the words, “I’ll always be here when you need me.” And she remembered how the Devil laughed and joked that she was better than Galvino, but that that wasn’t a high bar to clear.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she tried not to look at the Devil as she said it, turning to reach for her bag of tiny tools that were good at popping out tiny ball bearings. “I missed you.”

“Yeah,” she paused, turning her head toward the fire. “I didn’t know I was going to miss you too.”

The watcher grinned widely, wiping paste on the ankle joint in her hand and placing it carefully amongst the other ankle pieces. “Aww, you missed me. You’re going soft.”

“Shut up.”

They were silent for a while as the watcher focused on removing parts of the Devil’s leg and occasionally sitting back on her haunches to explain what the rest of their companions were up to. As much as it hurt to recount it, the Devil of Caroc was the first to leave and everyone followed her. They had other callings that could not be pursued at Caed Nua. But everyone’s rooms were still here, for the occasional visit. “Even yours.”

“You’re too sentimental,” the Devil informed her. The watcher laughed but she went on, seriousness in her voice. “I wasn’t planning on coming back, you know.”

The watcher stopped and sighed heavily. “I figured. After you left so abruptly, without saying goodbye.” She remembered it perfectly. It was the beginning of the end and it hurt the most. She knew everyone else would be okay, they said their goodbyes, there was some degree of finality. But with the Devil, it was nothing, it was sudden.

“I didn’t know what I wanted.” 

“And I would’ve helped you—”

“But that was something I needed to do on my own and you didn’t fucking get that.” The Devil sounded dangerous, though her face stayed a passive mask as it always did.

The watcher flinched, but kept going. It was easier to try to focus on removing the patina and restructuring the Devil’s leg than let the feelings bubble up from months ago. “Then did you find it? What you wanted?” It came out as a whisper.

“I walked and walked and walked,” she repeated, the venom leaving her voice in increments. “And I made it to the ocean. And it was beautiful. I tried to die there in the water, I tried to leave this stupid body to become something different. I tried so hard.” Her voice wavered like she was going to cry, not that her stone eyes would leak a drop. The watcher looked up at her again and she was still staring into the fire unmoving. “But I kept thinking of you. I think it’s your fault that I’m still here. Trapped.”

“Devil…” 

“No, shut up, let me finish. I thought revenge was keeping me here, but I killed all those fucking bastards, and I’m still here. We killed Thaos and I’m still here. I walked into the ocean and I’m still here. If I’m going to be stuck here, I should at least be with someone I can tolerate. So here I am.”

The watcher felt her heart in her throat. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she reattached a freshly cleaned bronze leg to the rest of the Devil’s patinated body. “You flatter me, Devil,” she tried to sound nonchalant to lighten the air, but her unsteady voice betrayed her. So she grabbed the other woman’s unfeeling hand in hers and continued, “I would love for you to stay. But I never want you to feel trapped here. You can come and go as you please. Just, please, if you’re leaving for good, tell me.”