oh, mirror in the sky

When purple spread further in the sky, the Heirs began filing in. Your lover greeted each of them with a bright smile and a hug, bouncing up to the small stage and introducing the event. Scattered claps sounded as she announced its start in ten minutes, pointing to the sign-in by the door for anyone who forgot to check-in.

She came over to your table in the meantime, sitting beside you and taking your hand.

“So, what do you think?”

You brought her knuckles to your lips, “You did a fantastic job, my love. The turnout is larger than ever.”

She hummed, “I can’t wait to see what everyone wrote!”

Your eyes flicked to the piece of folded parchment in front of her, her own taking on a teasing glint as she leaned in to you.

“No peeking! It’s a surprise.”

“I look forward to it.”

“As you should,” she left a peck on your cheek, fetching the sign-in list and heading back to the stage.

“Alright, we’re going to kick things off with Hygilos, reciting his newest work, Voyage of the Thief Star.”

~

The sun set with natural ease, moonlight claiming the sky. A few patrons had returned home by now, thanking Cyrene before they parted. She sent them away with special vouchers and recommendations, bringing over fresh cups of tea for the two of you. Her head rest on your shoulder as you listened to poems old and new, told in tones soft and bold.

When it was finally her turn she squeezed your hand, rising with her work to the stage.

“I hope you all have been enjoying yourselves – I certainly have! Tonight I want to read you a sonnet I wrote for my love a few months ago and have kept under wraps,” Her gaze honed onto you, “I call this one, A New Fate.”

You smiled and she continued.

“Through Time’s ceaseless flow I wandered to you,

The one who stirred my heart like bright starlight,

The one who led me on a tale anew,

Filled only with precious days and sweet nights.”

“For millennia I bore grim witness,

As those I adore fell to prophecy,

Yet you came and freed me from the stillness,

Penning beside me a new odyssey.”

You couldn’t help but blink, willing down the lump growing in your throat.

“How then, could I ever resist your love?

Setting my spirit alight like crystal,

Softly fracturing into the above,

Reaching even constellations distal.”

Your efforts proved futile as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Her sentimentality never failed to move you; how she could bare her feelings so easily despite every hardship that befell her.

“You are in each fervent beat of my heart,

Since my blood has sung for you from the start.”

You clapped, disregarding the calm atmosphere as she beamed, soaking up the praise. You wrapped her in a hug when she returned to your table, one that she reciprocated with equal care. She placed a kiss on your cheek, then your lips, smiling softly when she looked into your eyes.

“I take it you liked my work?”

You kissed her again, “I loved it.”

castorice

Castorice arrived with the twilight, a small notebook in her hand as she waited for you to finish closing up Aphrea’s shop. You worked later than usual, completing the embroidery on a dress for a young girl’s birthday. She smiled as you sighed, pocketing the key and heading for Cyrene’s bookstore.

“How was your day?” she asked, twin tails flowing with each of her heeled steps.

“Quite well. I spent most of it back in the studio pricking my finger,” you laughed, “But I think it led to some of my finest work yet.”

She paused, “May I see?”

You showed her your hands, any trace of blood now unnoticeable to her scrutinizing eye.

Still the corners of her lips drew downward, “I shall find you thimbles and gloves tomorrow. Please use them until you hone this craft.”

Your features turned tender, “I will.”

“By the way, I believe I have mastered the last stitching pattern you taught me.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” her smile took on a soft and gentle pride, “I would love to show you what I made with it when we get home.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Peaceful quiet took over you as you neared The Crystalline Page, light music echoing from the door. Someone strummed the lyre in the corner while Cyrene flit about, welcoming and making small talk with all who entered.

“Castorice! If it isn’t one of our featured poets!”

She wrapped your lover in a big hug, and any tension in her shoulders eased. She smiled, giving you your own after.

“Feel free to look around and chat! Kyros has plenty of tea blends and treats whenever you need refreshments. I hope you two enjoy yourselves!”

“We will,” you replied, “You never fail to host a magnificent evening.”

~

Castorice’s hair brushed against your arm as you sat together, absorbed in the works of your friends and the locals. She took notes in her book of her favorite verses and things she wished to discuss with the authors after the event.

In the time between guests, you snuck bites of cake to each other. Soft candlelight illuminated the fork, and in turn the muted blush that rose on her cheeks.

Cyrene rose to the stage, checking over her list, “Our next poet is the one and only, Castorice!”

Half-claps echoed as you gave her a nod of encouragement, watching her smile and walk to the gentle spotlight.

“Hello everyone. I have quite enjoyed all of your creations tonight, and I hope mine compares. This is Ode of the Maiden written not too long ago as a reflection on my journey.”

She looked at you, then the page in her book.

“The cold embrace of earth was the first I knew,

Wrapping me in a soft cocoon,

As I weaved together blooms of blue,

Under the tender gaze of the moon.”

Her calm tone carried her words beautifully, her past conveyed with something bittersweet.

“Frosted winds carried me beyond the nether,

A butterfly in the night,

Drawn to flames’ golden light,

That gave my lonely heart a tether.”

She looked to her fellow Heirs, nothing but gratitude in her violet eyes.

“In the holy city I found my home,

And a love who ensured I would never be alone,

Nor keep my inner self to a tome,

For it was time to be known.”

Her gaze simmered with affection, focusing only on you.

“Now these hands of death create,

Defying their sordid fate,

I imagine, sew, and write,

Living with all of my might.”

Claps accompanied her nod and descent from the stage, her dress billowing as she sat beside you.

You brought one of her twin tails to your lips, leaving a kiss on her hair, “Your words are beautiful as always.”

She smiled at you, her eyes expectant, “They are not as charming as yours, though.”

“I love you, Cas.”

“I love you, too.”

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Swallowing, you set down her tea, folding your hands and walking to her table. Her brows furrowed further with each of your steps, the key in her back winding faster. She stared up at you, the wires and gears in her chest on full display, her hands gripping fistfuls of her skirts.

“Is there… something I have done wrong, My Lady?”

“Very.”

She pointed to an arrangement of golden gears in her chest, the cocoon of wires around them pulsing rapidly as they spun.

“I have spent the last seven nights trying to figure out what this is… what you do to me every time you’re near.”

“Do I make you nervous, My Lady?”

The wires pulsed again, the red fluid within them bright as she turned her head to the side, indignance written across her face.

“As if,” before you could get in another word she continued, “I need you to help me test my hypothesis.”

She rolled up the plans on her desk, setting them aside and claiming their spot. Soft lamp light spilled over her skirts and skin, the gears in her eyes gently turning as she tugged you closer.

“How do you feel about me?”

The sharpness of her gaze allowed for no falsehoods.

“There is no other I would rather serve.”

She observed your features, bringing your hand to her artificial heart. Its gears turned softly under your palm, its wires hammering.

“Good. Then I expect you to follow my commands.”

She held your wrist, trailing your touch along her heart’s “veins”. A shiver ran down her spine, vibrating through her forearms. The cold, bare joints of her fingers pressed against the beat in your wrist, its pace insistently matching hers. She guided you up her wires to her sternum, the most sensitive spot of her reborn body.

A moan lay just beyond her lips, held only by the sinking of her teeth. Your finger ran straight down its center, driving her grip to the table below. A second joined in, tracing along the walls of her core, its light peeking from behind the wires. Your touch slipped between them, gently rolling and massaging as a whimper finally came from her throat.

You withdrew instantly, worry in your brow and a question on your tongue that she swallowed with a kiss, all but shoving your fingers back into her.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“No–”

“Then keep going.”

“Would you rather I not care about you at all? If that is the treatment you desire, I am more than capable–”

She kissed you again, tugging on the collar of your shirt and wrapping her legs around you.

“Shut up and keep touching me.”

You hiked up her skirts, following her mouth as she leaned back, papers catching under her palms. You bit hard at her lower lip, savoring her sharp inhale. A shaky moan came as the taste of metal blossomed over your tongue, the wires of her sternum wetting beneath it. You licked every divot and ridge, tip brushing over her core. Her head tilted back, sounds pouring from her lips as you lavished her in a way she could’ve never predicted.

Electric shocks bounced through her system, a hand gripping your hair and guiding you deeper. Gentle, heated vibrations passed through your tongue as pleasure crashed over her, sweeping her towards a sea of stars. The sensation was far more intense than she had ever experienced before, her nerves set alight in a way experimentation and stress relief never brought.

She wanted more.

And, as if reading your Lady’s mind, you were ready to give it to her.

Your tongue dived back between her wires, your fingers trailing along her pulse and gears. She writhed against you, drawing your touch away. One hand settled on her hip, the other flattening over her upper back in support. You lapped at her with rare abandon, twitches and tingles building up in her veins once more.

Your teeth grazed her wires, lightly biting and sucking. Shocks returned to her system tenfold, her mind delightfully free of thought. You didn’t stop this time, pushing her further beyond the brink.

Her nerves seared with heat, her head growing heavy under the force. Every wire became so much more sensitive, subject only to your ministrations. Another suck came and she fell over the edge again, gripping your hair desperately.

You placed a kiss over the largest gear of her heart, meeting her bleary eyes.

“Was I able to provide any results?”

“Not yet,” she replied, tone scratchy and thick. She dragged down her hand, the limb heavy as lead as it cradled your cheek, “Keep going.”

You held her gaze, sliding your own hand up to unpin her bun, long waves falling into your grip. You took her bruising lips against yours, two fingers pushing back into her sternum. She melted at the touch, her body going slack as she let go. Whines resounded from her throat, sparks gathering in the tips of her toes, spreading up her bent legs. You delved further in her than before, rubbing right along the smooth heat of her core.

A broken, high moan tumbled into your mouth, her hands searching for purchase along your shirt as you tugged her head back. Your lips landed at her jaw, tongue flicking along its artificial curve.

“Can you feel me here?”

An unsteady exhale filled your senses, spurring you further to the underside of her ear.

“Here?”

She shivered, your tongue tracing the shell of it. You hummed in satisfaction, sparks flickering up her thighs.

“What about here?” you whispered, rubbing back and forth against her core.

She screamed, her system flooding with pure electricity as you continued massaging her innermost parts, ridding her of anything but pure sense. She shook under your hand, suspended in the cloudy haze of pleasure where all she saw was you. Your thumbs rubbing her cheeks, your eyes saccharine as you looked at her as if she hung the stars.

Only one thought sprouted from the fog, the confirmation of her hypothesis.

“I love you.”

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You held quite an interest in her routines, and in the art of ballet itself. You questioned her movements, attempting to replicate them at her side. Your clumsiness and enthusiasm became charming after weeks together, this new side of you worming further into her than your smile.

She almost began looking forward to these mornings, hidden away from prying and demanding eyes.

You shrugged off your coat, humming and hanging it beside hers. Odette already stood beneath a large chandelier, twisting her torso from side to side. You put on your ballet slippers, falling into position next to her. Soft music echoed through the studio, the swell of every string accompanying each spike of your heartbeat.

Since your first mission together under the Fair Lady’s command, she moved you. Her precision, grace, and tenacity set her apart from your comrades, something that the Eighth saw clear as day. Just as obvious to her was your little crush, flames she purposefully sought to stoke. You worked side by side more often than not, even after her death. Perhaps her demise was what finally motivated you to learn her favorite art, from your closest friend and her potential successor.

She planted her feet steady and firm, swinging one leg back and forth. She preferred to do this stretch without the barre, claiming in the past that it “fostered her balance” and forced her to work harder. Not wanting to disappoint, you did the same. She hadn’t lied, it forced you to be calm and centered, lightly working your core at the same time. Still, after a couple weeks of practice, your body couldn’t adjust to the side to side progression.

You wobbled, your flat foot no better.

Odette sighed, “Let me help.”

Her cold hands settled over your hips, her chilled breath fanning across your neck. She held you steady, counting to ten along with each of your movements. You shifted to the other side, her grip tightening with your chest. It felt as if any second your heart would explode, your flustered state reflected in the mirror before you.

She parted when you finished, giving you a moment to cool off as you fetched two mats.

You laid them out on the floor, your knees and hands sinking into one as you hid your embarrassed features. A quiet, deep breath filled your lungs, your feet inching backward. You released it, a brief sense of calm returning as your legs straightened into a downward position.

Your shirt fell forward, exposing the skin of your back. You jumped as Odette’s fingertips trailed across it, her palm flattening just above your tailbone.

Her touch left as soon as it came, only the chill lingering.

Odette laid back on her mat, her knees bent and feet touching. One swung up and over to the other, her foot staying flat.

You took the opportunity to get back at her, kneeling and pushing her feet aside. You leaned over her, filling the space between her legs. Her eyes widened for the briefest moment, before fire broke through her ice.

She gripped your hair, your lips crashing into hers, hips meeting as she kissed you again and again. Her legs kept you tight against her, her nails digging into the back of your neck. You bit her bottom lip as you parted, teeth grazing her jaw.

She tugged off your shirt, flipping you back across the mats. Her own followed suit, her lips seeking yours before the fabric even left her arms. Her cold skin soothed your heat, her chest pressing into yours. Her pants were better than any melody, filling your ears and driving your touch beneath her leggings. She shimmied out of them, kicking them aside with her underwear.

Her kisses melted down your neck, a bite landing at its meeting with your shoulder. Her tongue laved across it, flicking hard and drawing a moan from your lips.

Your pants were tossed away to some dark corner of the studio, her slick heating your bare thigh as she straddled it. Her own pressed against your throbbing cunt, her hands settling in yours. She wasted no time pinning them above your head, grinding down against you. Her hair came loose, a few strands bouncing with her movements. You met each roll of her hips urgently, your kisses growing sloppy.

Her forehead gently hit yours, her voice breathy and desperate, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?”

Between pants you told her, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?”

She slowed, sitting up and watching you writhe, “Really?”

The back of your fingers slid over your lips, your eyes drifting to the windows in embarrassment, “Since our first mission. Why do you think Lady Signora always assigned us together?”

Her brows furrowed, the passion in her eyes giving way to something tender.

“You… want… me?”

“How could I not, Lelek?”

Her kiss came hard and sweet this time, emotion pouring from her like snowmelt. You leaned up, meeting each fervent swipe of her lips. She moved against you with a steady rhythm, watching you respond to her in the mirror. Your chest heaved, stomach fluttering with every rise of your hips.

You were beautiful, more than she ever thought before.

“Look at how we move together,” she whispered, her voice growing raspier the faster she went.

Your hands gripped the mat behind you, your gaze following Odette’s. She rode your thigh with the same grace she gave the stage, her wetness easing every glide. You were no better, the sight of your performance and her unraveling enough to spike lightning in your blood.

Your moans grew louder, her chilled palms kneading your warm breasts. The ice of her fingers over your nipples finally drew you to the edge, yet you waited, holding off for her as long as you could.

Dawn bled past the studio windows, and with it Odette crumbled. She shivered, a whine sticking in her throat as you followed, chasing the aftershocks together. She fell over you, her breath fanning over your ear as your hands gripped her hips, dragging her further into you.

She kissed you, caressing your cheek and straightening her legs.

“So… would you like to get breakfast?”

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Muffled whispers and rustling came from behind the steel, its muted blue opening to reveal polished red and monochrome.

“Oh, thank you! I’m afraid I uh– I don’t have anything to tip you with.”

You leaned in, catching the teasing glint in Ashveil’s eyes, "I can think of something.”

His finger caught your chin, “Really now?”

“Mhm.”

You left a simple kiss on his lips, something short and sweet that he couldn’t help but deepen as you parted.

“End scene,” you bowed, drawing a chuckle from him before you walked in.

Two table lights were positioned on one of the large office desks, papers strewn about its surface. They cast a white glow over the drying ink of Ashveil’s notes, the detective coming to collect them and make small talk as you unloaded dinner.

Until he noticed the packaging, at least.

“Christie's? Did I forget something?”

“Do I need a reason to spoil my partner?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“And you’re sniffing down the wrong trail.”

He watched you with blatant suspicion, taking the seat across from you as you got ready to dive into your meal.

He wasn’t actually far off this time, at least with his conjecture. You only ever had Christie’s on your anniversary, or to celebrate something major. It was a pricy, rare treat to savor and indulge in once or twice a year – never more.

You shrugged off your coat, placing it over the back of your chair as Mister N hopped out of the Agency’s closet.

You nodded toward the small pile of bananas on the desk, “I stopped and got something for you too.”

“I appreciate it.”

He winked at you after jumping to his spot, and your pulse eased. He was the only one who knew of your plan, and who encouraged you every step of the way. After watching how tenderly you and Ashveil have treated each other over the years, he was more than happy for your love to become permanent.

Conversation flowed naturally as you feasted, cutting into juicy steaks and stealing bites of each other’s sides. You discussed everything grand and mundane about the day, from silly encounters to new prospects and clues. Rain continued to fall beyond broad windows, droplets racing down the glass as if the building itself were crying. Your wallet was surely doing the same after ordering this dinner, but the satisfied smile on Ashveil’s face held more worth than any number or bill.

His happiness was something you fought to cultivate, through years of isolation, self-destruction, and insecurity. You had plenty of your own issues back then, still do most days. Yet you learned, shared different perspectives, and most importantly led with your actions. Holding quiet or full spaces, tending to wounds and needs, offering companionship and another steady presence despite the lack of pay.

Little did he know being beside him was payment enough for you. Being allowed to know the truth behind every light and shadow within him.

With enough time, the seeds you planted began to flourish. He accepted more easily, giving back in equal measure. He revealed more facets of himself, allowing them to sit in the open rather than be hidden away in dark corners.

You bore no expectation of him, and that assurance was what finally did him in.

He was no genius nor fool, merely a man with a plethora of observations and experiences. He knew you kept coming back because you were just as lonely as him, channeling your care into everyone but yourself in hopes they would deem you useful and worthy and allow you to stay. He refused to feed that pattern, instead giving you just as much as you provided for him.

A stable presence that would remember every detail you shared, laugh at every story no matter how many times you already told it. Offer somewhere quiet to tune out the world for a little while. Teach you how to hone your intuition so you’d always be the first to draw. He’d learned plenty of skills and lessons over the years, imparting each one onto you casually as if he wasn’t slowly entrusting you with every piece of himself.

It felt only natural, then, that after five years of giving and learning you had finally gotten together.

And now, another five down the line, you still filled each other's cracks like meltwater over a dry river bed.

Clinking broke through your thoughts, a glass of whiskey landing in front of you as Ashveil brought his chair next to yours. He smiled, taking a sip as he lounged and looked out over the city lights.

“So… are you finally going to tell me what all of this is about?”

Your pulse spiked and you downed your glass in one go.

“Whoa! Pace yourself, it can’t be that serious!”

You cleared your throat, “It is, Ashveil.”

Your coat swished as you grabbed the box from your pocket, setting your glass aside. A tape dispenser had been shuffled nearby by Narrator before he left, giving you the privacy you needed.

Still, you didn’t doubt that the Agency door was slightly ajar.

The detective’s eyes widened as he registered what you held, his hands shaking the lightest bit as he set his own glass aside.

“So it is,” he joked, breaking the tension in your shoulders.

“I know neither of us are the best at putting our feelings into words, so I’ll make it simple, like everything between us has been,” You opened the box, pulling out a thin strip of paper, “I don’t care for money, goods, or anything material you could ever give me. All I’ve ever wanted is you. Your kind heart, your silly spirit, your weary bones, and every horrid and beautiful memory that clings to them. You’re the fiercest and gentlest man I know, and I love you more for it everyday. I don’t have some grand ring, just my own heart and soul in this little paper.” You took his hand, finding nothing but shock, affection, and a touch of water in his eyes, “Will you marry me, La Mancha?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

You wrapped the slip around his ring finger, placing a thin piece of tape over its ends as it found a new home on his finger. His hands warmed your cheeks, his lips crashing into yours. His kiss was deep and lasting, exactly like the commitment he was so ready to give. His forehead rest against yours, the city lights painting his face.

“I’ll love you until my last breath.”

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