Chapter Text
“Mind if I join?” Imogen calls out softly, stepping out onto one of the many balconies of Castle Whitestone.
Laudna turns at the sound. A smile creeps onto her lips as her eyes meet Imogen’s. It’s a stark contrast to the too-wide smile Imogen’s grown fond of these past few years, often used for scaring off nosey guards and would-be bandits. This smile is softer, content. It pulls the air from Imogen’s lungs.
“Imogen,” Laudna sighs, the same quiet contentment seeping into her voice. “Of course you can. You know I always love your company.”
A smile tugs at Imogen’s lips as she joins Laudna at the edge of the balcony, placing her hands next to spindled ones along the iron railing. The space between their hands, no more than a few inches, buzzes with an electric heat. The smile lingers on Laudna’s lips for a few moments more, even more breathtaking in this newfound closeness, before it dulls ever so slightly.
Too soon, Laudna turns back, eyes drawn to the sweeping vista of the city of Whitestone that stretches below them. In a comfortable quiet, they linger side by side. Laudna stares at the city, and Imogen stares at Laudna.
“Copper for your thoughts?” Imogen nudges Laudna gently with her shoulder.
“Oh, it’s nothing to worry yourself over, dear.” Laudna utters dismissively. She glances over at Imogen, and sighs. “It’s just - strange.”
“Being back here, you mean?” Imogen reaches over, covering Laudna’s cold hand with her own.
Laudna nods. “I’m still getting used to it. Seeing this place, like this. ”
She gestures to the city beneath them, warmly illuminated by the afternoon sun. The clocktower towers above the clusters of homes surrounding the market square. An enormous tree stands guard over the city center. Families shuffle along the cobblestone streets, baskets filled with goods from the market. Children dash to and fro amongst the side-streets, chasing each other; their shrieks of laughter echo between the buildings, audible all the way from the castle. From this height, it all appears so perfect.
“Yeah, I reckon it is a bit strange, all things considered.” Imogen gives Laudna’s hand a squeeze.
Laudna flips her hand palm-side up, spindly fingers tracing the scarred ridges that line Imogen’s. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely to see the city thrive, bursting with so much life and promise.”
Imogen turns from the cityscape to look at Laudna, brow quirked. “But?”
“But,” Laudna hums. “I’m a bit envious, I suppose. Seeing how beautiful it is now, remembering how it was then…” An involuntary shiver ripples along her spine, muscles remaining clenched even as the chill fades.
Imogen leans over, planting a soft kiss on the knob of her shoulder, smiling against pale skin as she feels Laudna relax ever so slightly. Rather than step away, Imogen nestles her head onto Laudna’s shoulder, finding a strange comfort in its boniness.
“I’d change it for you if I could, baby,” Imogen mumbles, pressing an additional kiss onto the fragile skin of her clavicle. “I already tried to, actually.”
“You did?” Laudna pulls back, gazing at Imogen with a curious glint in her eye. “When?”
“Last time we were here, actually. In her version of this place.” Imogen can feel her blood begin to boil as she remembers that twisted town of shadows. “I saw you, a lot. Before we got to the tree, I mean. I saw you as a little girl, playing with little straw dolls all by yourself. I saw you and that asshole, the one who threw dirt at you. I saw you getting dressed up for dinner, with your parents by your side. I wanted so desperately to fix things, to keep that boy away from you, to keep you from going to that dinner, to keep you away from her.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Ashton kept tellin’ me to stop. That it wouldn’t actually change anything, that it wasn’t actually you. And it didn’t, it wasn’t. But I still had to try, you know?”
“Oh, Imogen,” Laudna sighs, squeezing the hand interlocked with her right. She reaches her left hand forward, gently cupping Imogen’s face. “That’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“So far.” Keeping her eyes on Laudna, Imogen grabs the hand on her face, pressing a kiss to the palm. “I got more where that came from, baby.” Imogen wiggles her eyebrows at Laudna playfully, before rolling her eyes at herself. “Gods, I think I’ve been hanging around Chetney too much.”
Laudna bursts into a fit of giggles before collecting herself, shy smile still clinging to her lips.
Imogen’s breath stutters in her chest at the awestruck look in Laudna’s eyes. It’s almost overwhelming, the sheer amount of warmth in her gaze. Directed at Imogen, for Imogen, because of Imogen. She needs more.
“You got any plans tonight?” Imogen blurts out. “I mean, after we talk to the Lord and Lady?”
Laudna hums to herself for a moment, pretending to think. “Nope!”
Imogen clears her throat. “Would you like to go on a date with me? A proper one? We can forget about all of the - ” Imogen gestures her hands towards the sky, “ - moon stuff that’s been going on. We can forget about my mom, and Ludinus, and Delilah. It’ll just be you and me.”
“Oh, darling.” Laudna’s smile beams so brightly, Imogen can’t help but mirror it. “I’d love to!”
“You would?”
“Of course, Imogen. Don’t be silly!” Laudna claps her hands together eagerly. “Oh, what are we going to doooo…”
“It’s a surprise!” Imogen has no idea. “I’ll sort everything out. All you gotta do is show up, alright?”
“Oh, a surprise?! How romantic!”
“Yep, totally romantic. I - uh.” Imogen takes a step back, shaking her sweaty palms out by her side. She’d better get to work on this date. “I gotta go, I’ll see you…later!”
Imogen plants a quick kiss on Laudna’s cheek before spinning on her heels, heading back towards the castle. She’s made it to the doorway that leads back into one of the many tastefully decorated guest rooms, when Laudna calls out to her.
“Imogen, wait!”
“Yeah, Laud?” Imogen turns around, brow furrowing as Laudna closes the distance between them in a few purposeful strides. “What’s goin’ - mhmm…”
Any words or conscious thought melt away as cool hands cradle her face, pulling her into a kiss. Her hands flutter uselessly at her sides for a moment, before settling on Laudna’s waist, pulling her closer. They cling to each other for a handful of breathless moments before reluctantly pulling apart.
“Not that I’m complaining, because…wow,” Imogen bites at her lip, taking a deep breath before continuing, “But what was that all about?”
Laudna smiles and shrugs, stroking a thumb across Imogen’s flushed cheek. “I wanted to, darling.”
“Oh, well. Alright then,” Imogen utters, unable to keep the cheek-splitting smile from her lips or the wonder from her voice. It’s only been a few days, after months. Of waiting. Of wanting. Of hoping. This is still sinking in. That Laudna wanted this, wanted her.
“I, uh. Guess I better - ” Imogen points backwards with her thumb, notioning to the balcony door over her shoulder.
“Go, go.” Laudna makes a shooing motion with her hand, taking another step back. Imogen already misses their closeness. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Real soon,” Imogen calls out, offering one final smile before heading back into the castle.
Time to go pull some strings.
Chapter Text
Imogen’s a bit distracted throughout the meeting with the rulers of Whitestone, if she’s being honest. It all passes in a blur of back-and-forth bickering and sullen faces, resigned sighs and frantic planning, but it seems to have gone well enough. As well as it can, given the circumstances.
All too soon, Imogen finds herself in a rapidly emptying chamber. Her companions begin filing out of the room: Laudna and Chetney muttering to each other animatedly, no doubt trying to convince FCG to participate in their next thrill-seeking venture; Ashton trying (and failing) to pick Fearne’s pocket without being noticed while she eyes the ornamental weapons adorning the chamber walls.
Orym lingers behind, fixing Imogen with a curious glance. Summoning what she hopes can pass as a confident smile, Imogen flashes him a thumbs up and nods towards the door. Orym hesitates, but nods solemnly, falling into step with Keyleth as she trails the rest of the group. The door shuts behind them with a final click.
Turning away from the door, Imogen spots the Lord and Lady talking amongst themselves at the head of the table, surrounded by a handful of guards. Huffing a deep breath, Imogen approaches. They don’t seem to notice her arrival, at first, entirely consumed by their own conversation. She coughs pointedly.
“Ah, apologies.” The Lord of Whitestone clears his throat, more of a nervous habit than a productive cough. He squints his eyes a bit. “Miss Temult, is it?”
“Imogen, yeah.”
“Well, Imogen.” His voice drips with a self-important boredom. Imogen’s fists clench reflexively as he continues, “Do you have urgent business you wish to discuss?”
“I’ve just got a question." Imogen glances away from Percival’s pointed stare, eyes falling onto the Lady, sitting regally in the seat beside him. The Lady catches her gaze, with eyes so familiar but not quite right. Just a shade too light, not quite round enough. Maintaining eye contact with Vex’ahlia, Imogen continues, “More of a request, really.”
“Very well, go on.” Percival replies gruffly.
Imogen glances between the Lord and Lady, shifting under their scrutinizing gaze.
Vex’ahlia’s face flickers, growing soft for a moment as she chimes in, “Darling, I believe I can take care of this.” She places a hand on Percival’s.
Percival glances between his wife and Imogen. “Yes, very well.” He begins to rise from his chair, dusting imaginary dust off of his perfectly pressed pants. “Should you need me, you know where to find me, dear.”
The Lord leaves the room, trailed by a pair of guards. The Lady watches him depart. When the door closes behind him, she turns back to Imogen.
“Right, then,” Vex’ahlia motions with her hands. “Do go on.”
“Thank you, Lady Vex’ahlia.” Imogen exhales, fists unfurling at her sides. “It’s about Laudna.”
Vex’ahlia nods solemnly.
“It’s nothing like last time, I swear,” Imogen rushes to explain. “It’s just - As I’m sure you can understand, she’s got a lot of…bad memories associated with this place. Her home.”
Vex’ahlia’s face pales ever so subtly. Imogen resists the urge to start pacing, but she can’t keep her hands still, wildly gesturing as she continues her plea.
“I just - While we’re here, I wanted to - I want to try and help - ”
“Imogen.”
Smooth hands grab hers, stilling their frantic motions. Vex’ahlia, now risen from her chair, gives Imogen’s hands a gentle squeeze before releasing them, arms drifting back to her sides.
“You and your companions are honored guests of Whitestone.” The Lady fixes Imogen with a pointed look. “Your friend, Laudna, is a daughter of Whitestone. One who is owed a great deal. One I owe a great deal. Whatever it is that you require, you need only ask, dear.” Vex’ahlia pauses, face scrunching in a way that belies her regality. “Within reason, of course.”
“Oh, okay.” Imogen takes a steadying breath. “I’ve got ‘em written down here somewhere.” She rummages in her bag, pulling out a scrap of parchment and holding it out.
Vex’ahlia plucks the note from her grasp, eyeing it curiously. She quickly scans the bit of parchment, humming to herself all the while. Once finished, she hands the slip of paper to one of the remaining guards, sharing a few whispered words. With a solemn nod, the guard exits the room, parchment still in hand.
“Very well,” Vex’ahlia turns back to face Imogen. “My staff will see to it.”
“That - uh, that was easier than I expected,” Imogen replies with a relieved smile. “Thank you, Lady Vex’ahlia, truly,”
“You may call me Vex, dear.” She pauses a moment. “Though perhaps not in front of my husband. He’s rather…rigid, when it comes to formalities, I’m afraid.”
Imogen chokes down a scoff. That’s certainly one way to phrase it. “Well, Vex, thank you. For everything, I mean. I don’t know if I properly thanked you, last time we were here.”
“Yes, well, you had a great deal more to worry about than politeness.” Vex’ahlia doesn’t miss the somber expression that washes over Imogen’s features.
Imogen clears her throat. “Right, well. I’ve taken enough of your time, already. I’d better get goin’. Thank you again.” Imogen turns back towards the door.
“Of course.” Vex’ahlia hesitates, staring at Imogen’s retreating form, and calls out. “Thank you, Imogen. For looking out for her. For protecting her, when Whitestone couldn’t.”
“No offense - ” Imogen pauses in the doorway, glancing at Vex’ahlia over her shoulder. “ - but I don’t do it for Whitestone.”
“I know,” Vex offers her a knowing smile. “I’ve seen the way you look at her." A flash of pain, a flicker of recognition crosses over the Lady’s face before settling back into a fond smile. “Go on, now. You’re losing daylight, dear.”
***
“Imogen!”
The door has scarcely clicked shut behind her before the melodic hum of Laudna’s voice reverberates through the hall.
“There you are!” Laudna seems to float across the hall in an instant, immediately at Imogen’s side. “What took you so long? I was beginning to worry.”
“Oh, hey! Sorry, I just - I had to - I had to do a - a thing.”
“A thing?” Laudna squints at Imogen, searching for something. “Are you sure everything’s alright? They didn’t give you a hard time about your mother, did they?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.” Imogen’s heart swells at the protective edge in Laudna’s voice.
“Alright, good.” Laudna visibly relaxes. “I had Pâté on standby, just in case they tried any funny business.”
“My hero,” Imogen clutches her chest, rolling her eyes fondly. “Where is the little bastard, anyway?”
A sheepish look crosses Laudna’s face, hands wringing together. “Well, you see - ”
Thunk.
Something solid collides into the door leading back into the meeting hall.
Thunk.
“Oi!" Pâté’s distinct voice pierces through the solid oak door, only slightly muffled. "Anybody there?”
Imogen looks back at Laudna, raises an eyebrow.
“I may or may not have sent Pâté to keep an eye on you.” Laudna blurts out, high-pitched and uncertain.
Thunk.
“Uhhhh, ‘ello? ‘elloooo…” Imogen shuffles over and opens the door, coming face-to-skull with a hovering Pâté. “Oh, heyyyy Imogen.”
“Hey buddy,” Imogen casts a look over at Laudna. “C’mere for a second.” She takes a couple steps away from Laudna who looks on curiously.
“Oooooh, secrets! I like secrets…” Pâté dutifully follows, hovering near Imogen’s face, somehow managing to have an eager expression on his face, despite his lack of one.
Imogen drops her voice into a low whisper. “Alright, buddy. I need you to do me a favor.
“Right, right.” Pâté nods. “What is it?”
“I need you to go hang out with our other friends for a while, alright?”
Pâté glances at Laudna, turns back to Imogen. “Ohhhkay, how long we talking?”
“Oh, y’know…the next twelve hours? Give or take?”
“TWEL -”
Imogen hushes him, clamping a hand over his skull-beak.
When Imogen carefully lifts her hand, he continues in a stage whisper. “Sorry, sorry…twelve hours?!”
“Yes, Pâté.”
“But what am I s’posed to do for twelve hours?”
“I dunno, go bug Chetney or something.” Pâté doesn’t seem impressed. “Oh, I know! Maybe your Auntie Fearne can teach you how to make fire. That sounds fun, don’t it?”
“Alrightttt,” Pâté whines, then tilts his head. “Wait, wait, ‘ang on. What do you need twelve hours for?”
Eyeless pits stare into Imogen knowingly. She can feel the back of her neck begin to heat up.
“Ohhh…”
“Hush, Pâté.” Imogen mutters, flush spreading to the tips of her ears. "It's not like that."
“I get it, I get it.” Pâté sighs wistfully. “I’ll leave you little lovebirds alone, don’t you worry.”
“Thank you,” Imogen mumbles, giving Pâté an awkward pat on the shoulder.
She turns and heads back towards Laudna, who is currently staring at ceiling, picking at the strings of her gown, and dutifully pretending she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Laudna.” Imogen offers a sheepish smile. She clears her throat and holds out her arm, putting on the airs of a gallant gentleman. “Are you ready for a night of romance, my lady?”
Laudna immediately loops her arm through Imogen’s, giving her bicep a squeeze.
“Lead the way, darling,” Laudna attempts to mimic Imogen’s faux chivalry, but can’t keep a straight face. A series of giggles, so pure it’s almost childlike, bursts from her lips. Imogen smiles, standing a little taller as the pair, arm-in-arm, stroll along the winding halls of Castle Whitestone.
The anticipatory silence, after their laughter has subsided, is broken by a ragged voice calling out from behind them.
"Have fun, you two! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
Chapter Text
As the winding corridor opens up into the opulent great hall of Castle Whitestone, Imogen feels the giddiness slip from her grasp, leaving a tense sort of emptiness in its wake. The room is bustling with important looking people: The Voice of the Tempest and her companions scattered amongst them.
Imogen couldn't care less about the lot of them, if she's being perfectly honest. Not right now. She's got her sights set on the door, walking intently towards it, practically tugging Laudna behind her in her haste. She just needs to get out of this room, and then they can forget about everything. She just needs to -
"Imogen." Laudna slows, pulling them to a stop in an alcove. .
"Hmm?" Imogen glances over at Laudna, noting the look of concern on her face. "Everything alright?"
"I was actually going to ask you that, darling." Laudna gives her hand a squeeze, tentaive smile on her lips. "You know I appreciate you looking out for me, especially here." Her free hand, the one not currently clutching Imogen's, gestures to their surroundings. "But there's no need to rush out on my account. This place…it looks different, now. I can handle it."
"I know - I know you can," Imogen shrugs her shoulders a bit, pulling her lips into a crooked smile as she continues, "I'm just…excited to get goin' on that date, I reckon."
Laudna quirks a brow.
“I am!" Imogen huffs.
“Imogen…” Laudna starts, in that fond but tired tone of voice.
"I've got bad memories in this place, too. Alright?” Imogen snaps, immediately wincing. "I'm sorry. It's just that - ” She deflates, breaking eye contact with a wide-eyed Laudna, gaze flitting over to a shadowed corner of the great hall. “We brought you here, last time. Before we went to Ms. Trickfoot, I mean.”
“Oh.” Laudna hums in thought. “Oh. I’m sorry, dear. I didn't realize.”
“You couldn't have known. You were…” Imogen pinches the bridge of her nose with the hand not cradled in Laudna's, trying desperately to ignore the increasing buzz of the surrounding conversations, ricocheting between the stone walls.
“You can talk to me about it, you know.” Lauda prods softly. “What happened while I was dead.”
Imogen flinches.
Laudna gives the scarred hand wrapped in her own a gentle squeeze. “You shouldn't have to carry it all on your own, darling. I know it’s been weighing on you.”
And it has been. Wrapping around her aching chest like a too-tight corset. Pressing on her shoulders, riddling them with tension. Always present, always aching. The loss, the fear. It's been eating her alive.
“Lord Percival, he made us - " Imogen cuts herself off, closing her eyes. Laudna, lying on the stone floor of the great hall, unblinking eyes peeking out from the unwrapped shawl. Too cold, too stiff, even for Laudna's standards. She shakes her head after a few seconds, as if to physically clear the image from her mind. “I can't - not right now..”
“It’s alright. I’m sorry for pushing, dear.” Laudna reaches out to stroke Imogen's cheek, frowning as her fingers come away damp. “Whatever that man did, or made you do, it doesn't matter anymore. You brought me back. I'm right here.”
“You're right,” Imogen sighs, wiping at her face with her sleeve. “M'sorry Laudna. I finally get the chance to take you out on a date and I've already managed to mess it all up.”
“Don't be silly,” Laudna tuts, twirling her fingers with a flourish. Any trace of tears clinging to Imogen's cheeks is quickly replaced with a gentle warmth. “There! Good as new, darling.”
Laudna stares at her for a moment, the fond look in her eyes warming Imogen's cheeks even further. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind Imogen's ear, spindly finger tracing the shell of her ear, leans in and whispers, “And gorgeous as ever, might I add.”
Imogen fails to suppress a shiver as Laudna's cool breath dances across her neck, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. Laudna notes her reaction with a curious hum and steps closer, angular hip bones pressing Imogen into the stone wall behind her. Imogen's hands gravitate towards Laudna's waist, scarred fingers clutching at the fabric of her blouse as cool lips press against the delicate skin beneath her ear. The lips linger for a moment, and then pull away.
Before Imogen has a chance to be disappointed, Laudna presses another kiss just below the first. Then another. And another. By the time the kisses reach her pulse point, Imogen's heart is racing. She knows Laudna must be able to feel it thrumming under her lips, but she doesn't have it in her to be self-conscious when it feels so good.
She doubles down on that sentiment as one of Laudna's hands drifts up to Imogen's neck, thumb tracing the angular bone of her jaw, and the other grasps at the curve of her hip, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. It sends a rush of warmth across her body, a sharp contrast to the cold stone wall she's pressed against.
Shit. They're still in the castle, where any dignitary or diplomat could happen upon them. Or worse, Chetney.
Imogen nervously glances around the room, but no one seems to notice the pair tangled together in the alcove.
No one except for Orym, that is. He dutifully looks away as their eyes meet, a blush clinging to his soft, but angular features. It's like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on Imogen's head.
“Laudna,” Imogen sputters, having to clear her throat. “We should probably - ”
Laudna suddenly steps back, hands flying off of Imogen's body like they'd been scalded on a hot pan. Gone is the confident, charming persona she'd had mere seconds ago as she frantically begins to ramble.
“Imogen, darling, are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I? Was it too much? Oh, it was too much. I'm sorry, dear, I didn't mean to - ”
Imogen cuts her off with a kiss, much chaster than the ones Laudna had painted across her throat. She lingers for a moment, savoring the feeling of their lips pressed together. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to it. Pulling back just enough to get a good look at Laudna's face, Imogen reaches up and cradles her face in her hands. The concern seems to melt from Laudna's features at the contact.
“You've got nothing to apologize for, baby,” Imogen reassures, marveling at exactly how soft she becomes in moments like these.
Laudna scrunches her face. “I don't? But you - ”
Imogen sighs. “Orym saw us. He looked away, but still. Kinda, killed the vibe.”
“I see…” Laudna flashes a quick glance over her shoulder, spotting the halfling in conversation with Keyleth once more, though his pointed ears are still tinted pink. “So, it was okay? What I, what we - I know things are still sort of…new. I just want to make sure that you're comfortable, dear.”
Imogen's chest warms at the sheer amount of care Laudna always seems to treat her with.
“Laudna, honey, I've been wanting you to kiss me like that for about as long as I've known you.”
“Oh…” Laudna eyes grow wide. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Imogen rolls her eyes fondly. She musses with her hair, half-heartedly trying to make sure she's presentable. “Now, as much fun as it is making out in public like horny teenagers, we do have some actual plans to get to.”
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