Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was after a few weeks on the road that Zara really started to pay attention to her.

Rosie smelled of spring, like soil steeped in snow melt and flowering trees and sun-dried moss. Zara found it maddening. Fresh freckles spattered across long-faded ones; kisses from the sun on skin that was never really supposed to see it. The way her smile was just a little crooked, the way she had crow’s feet and deep dimples and smile lines even though she was still young. How she had those doe eyes even when she thought nobody was looking, how it wasn’t an act. She was infuriating, and Zara couldn’t help but notice her.

Zara was swilling her mead in the distorted reflection of the tap handle in front of her. The tavern was bustling; it was usually busy that time of night anyhow — just past suppertime — but they were also parked in a town, so it was packed. She had abandoned the group and was sitting at the far end of the bar sandwiched between the wall and a spirited dragonborn gentleman, and she was moping with a frankly unmatched severity.

Even through the noise of the crowded dining room, she could hear Knowles and Rosie’s strident laughter. Rosie’s giggles reverberated in her head. A sweet sound. Zara shook out her head and buried her face in her hands, banging her forehead gently against the heels of her palms. 

This is so stupid.

She swiveled around in her stool and watched the group through the crowd. Rosie, Knowles, and Castor were shooting dice while Tode looked on with interest. Knowles had a small fortune of copper coins on the table in front of them and the other two only had a few coins each, apparently losing sorely. One of the dice rolled onto the floor, Rosie scrambled under the table after it, and Castor assumed a deeply troubled expression when she shrieked with joy and slammed it down onto the table. 

Butterflies.

Zara took one last swig and called Tessa over, “Can I get another mead, a stout, a barley wine, a house special—” she looked over her shoulder and sighed, “and a Green Wine? If you have it.”

“Sure, dear,” Tessa threw the bar mop she’d been using over her shoulder, “That’ll be a minute.”

“Take your time,” Zara waved her away and fixed her attention back on the table. Castor was animatedly protesting something, Knowles was reclined back in their seat with their arms crossed, Tode had busied himself with a moth on the window sill, and Rosie…

Rosie was nowhere to be found. Zara got to her feet and stood on her toes to scan the tavern, but she couldn’t see her anywhere. She ran her tongue along the outside of her teeth and cursed under her breath.

Damned rogues.

Zara chewed on her bottom lip and leaned back against the bar as Tessa slid the stout onto the counter, “Are you alright, dear? You seem….”

“I’m fine, Miss Tessa,” she turned around to face Tessa and offered a tight-lipped smile, “But thank you.”

“Whatever you say,” she sat the mead and the barley beside the stout, “I’ll be right back with that special.”

Zara smiled again and pulled a bit of money out of the satchel at her side, dropping the coins onto the counter and clacking them together as she waited for the last couple drinks. Something was carved into the wood where her fingertips grazed the butcher block as she tinkered with her money; she pushed the coins aside to see "A+T” crudely engraved, enclosed in a heart, and well faded after a presumably long time. She rolled her eyes and cradled her jaw in her hand.

Ew.

“Are those for us?” as if out of nowhere, Rosie appeared just over her shoulder.

“Gods, Rosie!” she jumped. She cursed through gritted teeth and rubbed her brow bone with her thumb and middle finger. Pushing down her frustration, she looked Rosie up-and-down and muttered, “I hate that.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Rosie squeezed between Zara and the dragonborn and smiled apologetically, “Actually, yes I did. Extra sorry!” 

Rosie nudged her with her elbow and Zara tried to resist the urge to flinch away from her touch. She suppressed the warmth rising in her skin at the various points of contact between the two of them, the fluttering in her chest when Rosie pushed her forearm against hers and knocked the backs of their hands together, the comfort she found in that sweet earthy scent. It was like she was taunting her. This was so much easier when I didn’t care.

Rosie stood on her toes and pulled the mead towards the edge of the counter, tipping it towards her face and then recoiling when the smell hit her. She scrunched up her nose and shook her head decisively, “I don’t know how you can drink that stuff.”

“You’d think someone like you would like sweet alcohol,” Zara tried to ignore the fire in her cheeks, “Anyway, you drink fermented fungus juice. I don’t want to hear it.”

As if on cue, Tessa sat the last two drinks in front of the girls. One of them a fizzy, verdant green liquid in a brandy glass.

“Want to split the cost?” Rosie was reaching into one of her many pockets as Zara slid her money across the counter.

“I got it,” Zara said reflexively, more forcefully than she’d intended. The two of them collected their drinks and walked back to the table. Rosie was always just a few steps ahead, holding the drinks steady despite her quick and bouncy movements. Thieves.

“Zara! Rosie!” Castor waved them over.

“Done brooding?” Knowles tipped back in their chair and gave Zara a teasing smile as she brushed past them, “All tall, dark, and mysterious over there.”

“You guys bought us drinks!” Tode exclaimed. He dragged the proportionally enormous glass of barley wine into the space in front of him and loudly slurped the froth at its brim, some of the foam finding purchase in the woolly white mustache above his top lip, and gave a satisfied,"Mmmm.”

"Zara bought us drinks,” Rosie said in a sing-songy voice, “Because we’re her friends.”

Zara’s stomach turned.

Friends.

“Don’t get used to it,” she grumbled.

“We’re playing street dice—” Knowles started, but was interrupted by Castor throwing his hands up in surrender.

"They’re playing street dice. I’m out.”

Knowles rolled their eyes at him and directed their attention back to Zara, “Want to join?”

“Gods, no. I’m not betting against you.”

“Smart!” Knowles cut a glance at Rosie, “Rosie does not possess the same restraint.”

Rosie stuck her tongue out at Knowles and they laughed.

“Cocky much?” Zara scoffed.

“Thank you, Zara!” Rosie gestured dramatically, “And it’s not like I’ve lost to you every time.”

“The odds of you losing every time are very low.” Knowles flipped a coin, “That would actually be impressive.”

“You are insufferable!” she laughed.

Rosie and Knowles bantered while Zara zoned out. She ran her finger around the rim of her glass while gazing out the window, the blackness of night cut through by the bright reflection of the tavern’s interior. She made eye contact with herself and took a long drink, swishing the mead around in her mouth before swallowing, and then her eyes drifted over to Rosie’s reflection.

The windows were smudgy and the light reflected in them was bleary and almost magical. There was a halo of gold light blurring with the edges of Rosie’s face, which was split into a wide grin, and she looked absolutely radiant. Her curly silver hair and her stubby horns and her sparkling grey eyes. Looking at her was like looking into the sun. Zara’s heartbeat accelerated, and then when Rosie met her eyes in the pane of glass, it stopped all at once. Rosie tilted her head and smiled brightly.

After a few very long seconds, Zara looked away. 

Idiot.

“Zara?”

She jumped when Castor tapped her shoulder and snapped, "What?”

“Oh, um.” he fiddled with his hands, “I was just asking if you were doing okay?”

“Everyone’s so interested all of a sudden.” she murmured, “I’m fine.”

“Okay? It’s just — it seems like something’s up with you—”

“Castor, please just drop it.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but he just nodded instead. Zara was grateful for his restraint, but guilt twinged in her stomach at his expression.

She slouched back in her chair and sighed before flatly saying, “Sorry.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

Castor furrowed his eyebrows and scratched his head but didn’t say anything else. He went back to reading one of his demonology books — one that Zara could have sworn she’d seen him start and finish multiple times already — and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence.

Time passed and other patrons filtered in and out of the tavern as the night wore on, until just their group and a couple other odd patrons remained. Zara glanced across the table at Rosie, whose drinks were all empty. She was hiccuping intermittently and her face was flushed almost pink despite her grey skin, and she was saying something to Knowles about the value of jewelry with repousse. Zara was more focused on how she was tilting her head and twirling her hair around her finger. Just so damned charming.

Tode interrupted her train of thought, “I believe I’m quite tired. I think I’m going to find a tree to sleep in now.”

“Are you sure? It’s not very late.” Rosie asked.

“I would like to rise early. Gethin told me that a flumph migration is passing over this valley at sunrise.”

“Gethin?”

“The moth!” Tode pointed at a brown and white spotted fellow that was perched on the window frame, "He said it’s supposed to be wonderful!“

Knowles clapped their thighs and stood, “I should probably get to bed too. Big travel day tomorrow. You guys should consider getting some rest as well.”

“I’m just going to finish reading this last section.” Castor said without looking up.

“Oh, come on! Won’t anyone stay up with me?” Rosie whined as Knowles disappeared up the stairs, “Zara?”

“Sorry, I don’t have an endless supply of energy like you do. I’m heading to bed too.” Zara stood.

“Ugh! Fine!” she threw her head back in exasperation and leapt to her feet, “I’ll go with you.”

"Great. ”

The two of them began up the stairs. “I wonder what animals sound like to Tode. Like, if they have voices like we do.”

“I would guess so.” Zara replied as they rounded a landing, “I don’t think they speak like people, though.”

“What?”

“I don’t think they have language the same way we do, with words and stuff. It’s probably different for them.” Zara said. She chanced a look at Rosie, who was looking back at her with a tipsy smile and those wide open eyes. Zara’s ears reddened when they made eye contact and she looked away. “Or something. I don’t know.”

“Mmmm.”

Zara halfheartedly rolled her eyes.

They reached Zara’s door and Rosie asked, “Did Knowles say when we’re supposed to leave in the morning?”

“I don’t know. Early.”

“Wow, thanks.” 

“Just—,” Zara opened her door, turned around in the door frame, and sighed deeply. She bit back her annoyance and continued, “Just don’t sleep in too late, okay?”

“Why don’t you wake me up?”

“What?”

“Just come to my room and wake me up in the morning. I don’t want to hold everyone back.”

Zara didn’t say anything, instead staring blankly down at Rosie with a frown. They stood there for a moment just looking at each other, and then Rosie perked up again.

“Oop! You’ve got something right here.” Rosie pointed underneath her right eye. Zara tried to rub it off but was apparently unsuccessful, and suddenly Rosie was on her toes and plucking it off of her cheek. Zara’s throat tightened as Rosie’s drunken breath fanned against her face from just a few inches away; there weren’t just butterflies this time, her stomach was doing acrobatics. Rosie dropped back onto her heels and examined it before breaking into a grin, “It’s an eyelash! Make a wish!”

Zara stared at her with glazed eyes before sputtering, “I don’t believe in wishes.”

“Of course you don’t. I’ll make one for you.” She squeezed her eyes closed and scrunched up her face exaggeratedly, as if she was thinking very hard, and then suddenly dropped the expression and blew the eyelash out from in between her forefinger and thumb. She beamed at Zara, “There.”

“What did you wish for?”

“It won’t come true if I tell you that!” she turned around and skipped down the hallway, calling behind her, “Goodnight!”

Zara watched her disappear and then practically fell into her room, closing the door and collapsing against it. Idiot, idiot, idiot. She lightly banged her horns on the wood, eyes closed in some silent prayer to whoever was listening to please leave her be. She caught a glimpse of herself in the floor mirror and touched the place on her cheek where the tip of Rosie’s thumb had brushed against her skin. Her face was red hot.

What did I do to deserve this? 

Chapter Text

“Hey stranger.” Knowles stalled and fell into step with Rosie, who was trudging grumpily behind the rest of the group. Knowles nudged her when she didn't reply, “You good?"

“It is way too early to be hiking.”

“I still can’t believe you’re awake.”

“Me neither. This is awful.”

“You’ll survive.” Knowles rolled their eyes lightheartedly.

“I don’t know if I will.” Rosie sighed dramatically and slumped forward, “Why did I drink so much last night?”

“Are you seriously hungover?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe a little.”

“Hey, look on the bright side! Only a few hours left until lunch.”

“Ugh.” she dragged her hands down her face and peered up at Knowles, who looked altogether too amused, through the cracks in her fingers. “Shut up.”

“Mmhm.”

The two of them walked alongside in silence. Zara and Castor were several yards away at the front of the troupe and Tode was walking just off the trail with his hands clasped behind his back. Rosie could see Castor and Zara speaking — she couldn’t hear what about — and Zara once looked over her shoulder at Rosie with an indecipherable expression before quickly whipping back around. Rosie groaned, “Why doesn’t Zara like me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I really thought we were making progress! She was starting to open up! I thought we were, like, friends! But she’s been all weird since she woke me up this morning, and—”

Knowles snapped their head towards Rosie, “Since she did what now?” 

“Since she woke me up. I just don’t understand why she hates me so much. She seems fine with the rest of you!”

“She doesn’t hate you. Just give her time. Not everyone is as—” Knowles gestured vaguely at Rosie’s entire physical presence, “—as you are.”

Rosie pursed her lips.

“Why do you care so much anyway?”

“Because! I just do!” Rosie exclaimed, more emphatically than she meant to, and the other three all turned around to look at her. Knowles shook their head and motioned to indicate that nothing of importance was happening, and they tentatively went back to their own conversations. After a moment she continued, “I just want her to like me. I like it when people like me.”

“There it is.”

“What does that mean?”

“This isn’t about Zara, it’s about you. You're insecure, which is fine, we all are. But this isn’t her problem.”

Rosie made a ‘hmph’ sound and looked away.

“Relax, okay? She’ll come around.” Knowles stooped to meet her eyes, “I did.”

Rosie smiled, despite her best efforts, and their conversation moved on to other things.

It was a slow morning, all muggy and drizzly, and by noon they still hadn’t come across anyone else on the trail. For lunch, the group found themselves sitting on a patch of boulders to escape the mud.

“Did you know that mumbleberry stems are actually quite nutritious?” Tode said, plucking a bunch of small blue berries from a nearby bush and tossing the entire thing into his mouth. He chewed slowly and grimaced, “I assume they’re nicer to eat if you’re a bird.”

Rosie giggled at him, “Not too good, huh?”

“I was told they were delicious!” he pointedly said up at the trees.

Zara smiled at him fleetingly.

“So I’m thinking that if we keep up this pace we can be here by Friday.” Knowles said through a mouthful of bread, jabbing a spot on the map with their forefinger, “Should be pretty easygoing. The terrain is flat from here-on-out, I think.”

“And the weather?” Castor grumbled from beneath his cloak, tearing his bread into small pieces and eating them one at a time.

“Alas, I can’t see into the future, Castor.”

“A thunderstorm is coming.” Tode chimed in. He sniffed the air zealously and added, “In a couple days, probably, although these things can be fickle."

Knowles cocked their head at him, “You can see into the future, Tode?”

“No, but I can smell rain." he ate a berry and added, "Also, the birds told me."

"The birds told you?"

"They have remarkable instincts about these things.”

“The more you know.”

“For the record, I don’t think that’s a druid thing.” Castor added, “I can smell rainstorms brewing, too. Maybe not days in advance, but—”

“You can? That’s so cool.” Rosie interrupted him mid-sentence, earning a glare from Zara that she tried and failed to brush off. She shifted restlessly and picked at one of her cuticles, turning her attention back to Castor, “I can’t do anything like that."

"An animal's survival relies on it. It seems people are more-or-less the only ones who can't do that."

“No way!”

“Yes way.”

“How do they do it?”

“I’m not sure. They just do, I suppose.”

Rosie was not oblivious to the looks Zara was stealing and the scrutiny was becoming unbearable. I’m not even doing anything, she thought. More than once she tried to make eye contact but was rudely interrupted by Zara averting her gaze. It was infuriating.

What is her problem?

There were the faint sounds of soft rain and rushing water from elsewhere in the forest when they got back on the trail. Knowles took up their position at the back of the group and Rosie took the opportunity to catch up with Zara. She skipped up behind her and looped her arm around Zara's, "Hi!"

"Gods, Rosie!" she flinched away and shook herself out, "Why are you touching me right now?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just–"

"Don't do that."

"Sorry."

"It's fine."

"I–"

"It's fine. "

They walked in silence. Even in profile, Rosie could tell that Zara was wearing a frighteningly bitter expression. Rosie could almost hear her seething.

After a few excruciatingly long minutes, Zara tossed her head back in exasperation and finally spoke, "I have to pee. Don't wait up." 

Rosie watched Zara disappear into the woods. She ran her hands through her hair and sighed deeply. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Knowles appeared behind her, “Didn’t I say something about giving Zara time?"

“I'm an idiot."

"You're a drama queen."

"Hush."

Chapter Text

Zara rolled a coin over her knuckles in one hand and cradled her head in the other as she waited for their food. She secretly wanted to just go to her room for the night; her feet were blistered and her clothes were soaked and her patience had been completely depleted. But Tessa's lamb stew was just too good to miss out on, and the smell it from across the tavern was already starting to make her mouth water.

It turned out to be a longer day than any of them had anticipated -- torrential thunderstorms, washed out trails, and owlbears in their path had proven to be more trouble than they thought -- and everyone was feeling it. They had planned for a nice nature walk in the woods and instead got abused by the elements. The five of them sat at their usual table in near silence, the words exchanged between them brief, which Zara was grateful for. She just didn't have the energy.

"So," Knowles sighed out, "Today wasn't great. But tomorrow will be better."

Castor groaned and washed his hands over his face, "I don't need a pep talk, Knowles. I need a night's sleep."

"Look, I realize it wasn't ideal. But it's done now and we have to keep moving forward. We have a job to do."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Let's go to bed early, and maybe," Knowles stared up at the ceiling and searched their thoughts, "sleep in a little."

"I'll cheers to that." Zara clinked her glass with Knowles's and took a long drink of her cider. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. Gods, everything hurts.

"Wait, but I'm finally starting to get the hang of waking up early!" Rosie protested.

Knowles cut a glance and said, in a wry voice, "I'll tell you what, Rosie. You can get up as early as you want and the rest of us will take our sweet, sweet time. How's that?"

"Day starts when the sun comes up and ends when the sun goes down." Tode interjected, "I'll get up early with you, Rosie."

"Thank you, Tode. I'm glad somebody cares about me, Tode."

Zara snorted, "We both know that you're not waking up unless I wake you up. You sleep like the dead."

Rosie mimicked Zara in a high-pitched nasally voice and then replied, "No need to be rude."

Zara rolled her eyes lightly and took another sip as Tessa slid five bowls of stew and a loaf of bread onto the table. They each paid her for their food, muttering 'thank you's and other platitudes with half-hearted smiles. Before she turned to leave, she said, "Let me know if you need anything else, dear travelers."

They tore into their food without any further ceremony, all but stuffing soda bread and stew down their throats. Zara knew she'd been hungry, but Gods, she was hungry. When she finally emptied her bowl, the exhaustion really hit her. It was bone-deep, weighing down her eyelids and flooding her limbs. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and stood up, "Yeah, okay. I'm going to bed now."

"See you in the morning, Zara."

"Goodnight."

"Sleep tight! Don't let the bed bugs bite!"

"I hope you sleep like... someone who sleeps very well."

Zara waved them off as she walked towards the staircase. She collapsed onto her bed as soon as she closed her door, barely making it under the covers before her breathing deepened and her body stilled. It didn't feel like much more than a few seconds before she slipped out of consciousness.

All she could see was dark.

It was pitch black, not a hint of light in any direction. Her skin seemed to melt into the air; she couldn't tell where her body ended and the vast darkness began. Was she standing? Floating? Swimming? Did she have a body at all? She certainly couldn't move, or maybe she could, but it didn't feel like she was making any progress forward. There was nothing to touch, nothing to hear, nothing to see, nothing to breathe.

Where am I? she thought.

What am I? she thought.

She felt peace there. How many times had she wished for a moment like that, of absolute calm? She had nothing to do but exist.

There was nothing but her mind.

She was truly alone, and that's really all she'd ever wanted. There was nobody to judge her, nobody to betray her, nobody to leave her. And there, in that place, there was nobody to hurt.

She was completely alone.

Those words reverberated in her mind. Completely alone. Completely alone. Completely alone.

That's when the terror came; creeping in through the abyss, soaking in through the cracks in her mind, flooding her with absolute fear. It was all she could feel. She could almost see, but the images dissipated before her mind could even fathom them. She could almost feel, but her atoms were spread out too far apart;  there was no friction, no movement, no solidity. She could almost hear, but no matter how hard she searched or how far she reached into the vast darkness, there was nothing.

There was nothing but her mind.

She tried desperately to move, stretching her infinite limbs, pleading with the universe for there to be something out there besides herself. She tried to scream, but she didn't have any breath. She tried to breathe, but she didn't have any lungs.

Somebody.

Anybody.

Please.

And then there was a silver light in the distance; almost imperceptibly small, but very much there. It was unwavering and moving closer. The light seemed to be moving so slow, but then it was upon her all at once. It flared like a fierce flame, too bright to look at and getting brighter even still. But Zara didn't look away.

And then, from within the blaze, she saw her.

In the beams of Rosie's light, she returned to her body -- her weary, strange, mortal body -- and she couldn't find the wherewithal to do anything but weep. Rosie burned so bright that it hurt to look at her, but Zara couldn't bring herself to look away. Rosie's touch stung and sent electric currents rushing through her nervous system, but Zara didn't want to ever feel anything else. And when Rosie said Zara's name, she was sure that nothing else in the universe mattered besides her voice.

"Zara."

Why do I feel this way?

"Zara."

I can't help it.

"Zara!"

Her eyes fluttered open. She shot up in bed, blinking blearily at the sunlight that shone through her window. Then Rosie's voice came again, from the other side of the door, accompanied by a knocking.

"Zara! We need to go soon!" she knocked again, "Is everything okay?"

Zara rubbed her eyes and shouted back, sharply, "Yep. I'm coming. Give me a minute."

"See you downstairs."

Zara scrunched up her face as tight as she could, falling back onto her pillow and digging her palms into her closed eye sockets. Her heart would not slow down, no matter how much she willed it to.

Why me?