Sigil was frozen. A fine patina of ice had formed on the cobblestones and Shesayne's breath misted in the air even as her tears dried on her cheeks. She hugged herself close and wondered aimlessly down an almost deserted street. A couple of drunken dwarves, singing out of tune, stumbled, balancing themselves against walls, clinging to one another as they proceeded raucously through the night. Shesayne could not go home. All that was right and good in the Multiverse would not allow it. Astrid deserved better.
A fire beckoned in the distance.
Shesayne approached, quietly, hugging the walls of the ramshackle, skeletal buildings that stretched off into the horizon. As always, it was a moonless, starless night. Points of light called warmly from the distant main streets, still full of revellers.
As she drew closer, Shesayne saw the fire flicker. By the porch of an abandoned building a girl, with short, red and golden flame-coloured hair, copper-tinted skin and swept, fey-like features warmed herself by a floating ball of flame. She was wild-looking, her enigmatic, but pretty face hidden by dust and soot, her clothing functional and clearly second-hand: a man's shirt too big for her and red breeches. "D'you mind?" Shesayne whispered, approaching with hesitant steps.
The girl shrugged. "Customer hit you?"
"No -- no, it's not that -- it‘s not what you think"
"Then why are you here?" The girl's gaze was burning - red eyes the colour of molten metal.
"I'm cold."
"You lost?"
"No, not really."
"Then go home."
"Huh?" Shesayne knelt by the fire and observed the girl. Her fingers were long, dextrous - like those of a sorceress or a thief.
"There's nothing here."
"What's your name?"
"Fia."
"What do you do?"
"Look." Fia waved her hand and the sphere of flame split into five equal balls. Their contours smoothed, so that they became like tiny planets - then, with a dramatic sweep of her hand, Fia made the spheres align and begin to orbit one another in a swiftly flowing, intricate pattern.
Shesayne smiled. "Having a late night?"
Fia shook her head. "Sometimes I wait here - because people are hungry, cold, lonely - they need to talk. They need to warm themselves."
"Well, here I am -- "
"This isn't a good place to be." Fia interrupted. "If I had a home and someone waiting for me in bed, I wouldn't be here."
"How do you -- "
"Go home. Your fire is there. This is the fire for those who have no-one. Someone'll pass here, soon - I can feel it - but it isn't to be you." Fia gave a wan smile and gathered her spheres of fire into a single globe, forging it to have spots, rays and fiery bursts, just like a sun.
Shesayne nodded and rose. "Will I see you again?"
"Could be," Fia said and sat back, watching the featureless sky.
Shesayne hurried home. The landing in front of her apartment was dark, save for a single lamp that flickered, casting low shadows. She knocked at the door. It would have been impossible to go in uninvited.
"Astrid!" Her voice trembled.
Something stirred in the apartment. Soft footsteps approached and the door opened. Shesayne swallowed a knot of emotion in her throat. "Astrid -- " she whimpered.
"What?" came the weary reply. Astrid stood in the doorway, still fully clothed. She looked exhausted.
"A hug would be nice -- "
"Shesayne, words cannot begin to describe how worried I was." Astrid said tersely. At least Shesayne was making an effort not to cry and paint herself as the victim.
"I don't deserve to come home, do I?" Shesayne did not dare meet Astrid's gaze.
"If you're here, then you clearly wanted to come back."
"I did something terrible -- " Shesayne's voice cracked. She hugged herself closer, staring resolutely at the floorboards.
"Come in," Astrid said at length.
Shesayne undressed, washed and prepared herself for bed in silence. Astrid locked the door, dimmed the lights, donned her night-shirt and watched Shesayne climb into her side of the bed and lie as close as possible to the edge.
"D'you think we should talk -- ?" Shesayne whispered.
"No. Not tonight." Astrid slid under the sheets and extinguished the light.
"Are you sad, angry, disappointed?"
"Maybe it's human to be a little of all three right now." Astrid replied, quite gently.
"I'm sorry -- "
"Hush, here, don't be silly -- " Shesayne felt Astrid draw her close. She could smell the human woman's skin, her hair, feel her soft, tickling breath. Shesayne snuggled close and buried her face against Astrid's heartbeat. "There we are," Astrid loosened Shesayne's comb and set it on the bedside table, "all nice and cosy."
"On Ortho there's this story, y‘know, the really sad-depressing one -- the ‘Little Match-Girl'" Shesayne breathed almost inaudibly.
"Yeah, I told it to you once -- "
"It made me cry."
"Me too -- when I was a child." Whatever Shesayne's faults were, it was intimate moments like this that made Astrid realise how important she was to her.
"It's just a story, right -- ?" For an instant Shesayne thought of Fia. Life imitating art, or something stranger still?
"Of course, now go to sleep, my treasure."
"Tonight's been a barmy, strange night -- "
"It doesn't matter - I'm just happy that we're both back here, where we belong."
Shesayne smiled through her tears. Astrid held her close. The lullaby of her heartbeat tenderly coaxed Shesayne into the world of dreams.
The next morning was cold and grey. Astrid awoke and found the bedchamber window had misted over. She squinted into the first light of day and instinctively reached under the covers for Shesayne. The mattress was still warm. Muted Elven music lilted in the air and the smell of hot almond oil and warm honey streamed from the kitchen. Astrid stretched and threw off the covers. Under her bare feet, the floor was cold and humid. She stepped into the living room and found Shesayne, still in her nightgown, carefully tending to a pan full of frying honey cakes. Clean, herbal vapours bubbled from a silver teapot set on the table with ceramic cups and an inviting pear compote.
"Morning, morning, morning." Shesayne called amiably. She served four honey cakes, golden-brown and oblong, onto a plate and poured some hot syrup on them. "Would you like some fresh tisane with that?"
"You shouldn't have." Astrid embraced Shesayne, and kissed the soft expanse of half-elf's coal-black hair.
"Thought I might as well try, y'know. It's my mother's recipe and I thought that seeing as I've been such a selfish bitch all this time, I'd better start showing that it's not just words when I say I love you."
Astrid smoothed Shesayne's hair with a loving caress and kissed the half-elf on the cheek. "Thanks, but you don't have to make me breakfast -- even if it is appreciated every once in a while."
"About last night -- "
"I don't want to know," Astrid interjected resolutely.
"Sure, another time then."
"Do you see us doing this, Shesayne -- I mean every morning - waking up together, having breakfast, making love, going to bed? I don't want us to end up as bitter old women who keep complaining how they never got their fair shot at happiness."
"Well, as long as we can be bitter and old together, I'm not too concerned or bothered." Shesayne said fervently. She poured Astrid a cup of cinnamon and citrus tisane and set it by her plate of honey cakes. "Now come on, otherwise they'll get cold and you'll never get to experience Chef Shesayne's peerless cooking skills."
"Do you see us -- " Astrid insisted.
Shesayne forced herself to smile. The shattering guilt of the previous evening's encounter had left her with the bittersweet sensation of having lost part of her innocence, of her joy for life. "I want to work on it. If we both work on it, me more than you - but if we both work on it, what we have can only grow better, I just wish it'd get easier -- "
"It doesn't." said Astrid with a hint of bitterness. "But life is at its most beautiful when it's at its most difficult. When I saw you come home last night, I realised that you were my life. You were never going to be easy to love, but the reason I'm not angry is that, in the end, the beauty you bring is so much greater than any worry or frustration I could imagine."
Shesayne drew a soft breath and forced herself to dispel the lump in her throat. "I made five hundred Marks yesterday -- " she said, swiftly changing the subject. A stray tear fell down her cheek. Astrid, quite discreetly, wiped it away with a flick of her thumb. Shesayne huddled closer to her lover, cursing herself for even having considered Tahllea a temporary substitute for the sheer joy that now swept through her.
"Please, let's not talk about money." Astrid took a seat at the table and began to attack Shesayne's honey cakes with some enthusiasm. They were a little oily, but otherwise perfect: feather-light and moist on the inside with the characteristic nuttiness of the almond oil.
"All right, but I'm bringing everything I earn home, understood -- "
"Duly noted," Astrid quipped, far more interested in savouring her breakfast.
"So -- if that's all resolved and settled, I've got to run."
By the time Astrid answered, Shesayne was already washing her face in the bathing chamber. "Since when do you have to turn up this early at work?"
"I don't, but today's my turn to do the laundry -- "
Deviant Hearts Archive | Back to main index