Chapter Text
Sunlight shines through the windows of the vehicle, bouncing from the glass to Lemuel's eyes. She stirs, slowly waking from her dreamless sleep as her eyes blink open. For a brief moment, Lemuel forgets where she is. What has happened. For a brief moment, her body thinks she's back in Laterano, in her room. Safe and sound.
Then the smell of campfires hits her nostrils, as she begins to again feel the arms wrapped around her. Warm, sturdy arms, belonging to Fiammetta, shielding her inside their ride. Safe and sound.
As she fully comes to, Lemuel doesn't immediately get up, instead, she looks at the sleeping face of the one holding her. It's been years now, since the incident. Almost five. And somewhere along the line, on a fateful night, the two began this habit. Of sleeping cudd–huddled up together. It was spawned from necessity; neither could get any more good sleep after what happened. At least, not alone. But they found that in each other's presence, there was enough stillness, enough peace, to let it come to them. Rest. It was… more intimate than either originally intended.
And as of late, Lemuel's begun asking herself what they are. If they should even put a name to it.
"Mmh…" Fiammetta moans in her sleep, dragging Lemuel closer, and her heartbeat quickens… She is in no rush to find an answer. For now, there's comfort in this. In her. Her eyes begin to drift closed, as Fiammetta's cozy smell and warmth take her once more. This is fine.
Together, they're fine.
…
Cold. Lemuel stirs awake again, and the cold hits her like a truck. Her eyes blink open, and this time, she sits up the second she realizes Fiammetta's gone. Her warmth's gone. Where is she? Did she leave? Did she finally decide she wasn't worth it? Lemuel breathes. The cold air stings her lungs. It's okay. She's been through this before. Fiammetta wouldn't just leave her like this.
It's okay.
She breathes.
The smell of food hits her. Not abandoned yet. She's not abandoned yet.
Lemuel drags herself out of the jeep, blanket wrapped around her like a royal Aslan cape. The moment she lifts her eyes off the ground, she sees Fiammetta roasting meat over a fire. Lemuel learned how to hunt pretty quickly out in the wilderness with her. A skill Fiammetta learned thanks to Andoain, if she recalls.
Andoain.
Her hand clenches.
"Ah, El," Fiammetta speaks up, noticing her presence. "Good morning. I was just getting food ready for you."
"Us, you mean," Lemuel playfully corrects her, sitting next to her. The way the sunrise paints Fiammetta's face makes Lemuel feel warmer.
"I, uh… actually already ate"–Fiammetta begins as Lemuel's wings fall slightly, before looking her into her eyes and seeing something–"but I don't mind staying with you while you eat, if that's… what you want."
"Yeah!" Lemuel giggles. "I'd like that a lot."
Breakfast goes by quietly at first. Fiammetta spends most of it looking at a map of Columbia, the territory they're currently in. Lemuel scoots closer, chewing on the fowlbeast meat. "Just checking how long we have to Blacksteel… It's parked on Trimounts, so it should be easy enough to board it," she clarifies, before Lemuel hums playfully. "Yes, El?"
"You're warm," she says.
A light flush spreads across Fiammetta's face. "Thanks… I guess." She clears her throat, "A-anyway, we're sure this is the path we wanna take, right?"
"Yeah… Blacksteel is the one place I can think of where we could get our hands on guns. It should be good for us, give us actual resources to work with to find him, plus," Lemuel assures her. She sighs, touching her horns, "I'm real tired of using crossbows, y'know? Just… gotta hide these."
"Really now?" Fiammetta raises an eyebrow. "It hasn't been much of an issue thus far."
"I know, but… we haven't really been dealing with other Sankta." Ever since the day of the incident, in order to survive, the two had essentially become wandering mercs; they took on odd jobs whenever they could, from whomever. Be it protection, delivery, or even bounties, if it paid, they'd take it. It's what they needed to do to survive. Lemuel wasn't proud of it then, and still isn't proud of it now. But that's what they do, work with the hand life dealt them. "Blacksteel's CEO is one."
Fiammetta's eyes widen, her hands clenching."... Shit. Do you think…"
The question goes unsaid, but Lemuel knows what she means. "I don't know," she admits, "he could totally be fine with it, but the off-chance otherwise alone is kinda… terrifying."
"Hey," Fiammetta stops her, putting a hand on her shoulder, before brushing aside a few of her hair strands, "whatever happens, I'll be there, got it? Even if it means kicking the ass of a PMC's CEO."
"Mmh…" Lemuel pauses, not responding right away. She wipes her mouth with her blanket as she swallows the last of her food, before letting herself fall onto Fiammetta's shoulder. Without meaning to, she nuzzles into it ever so slightly, rubbing her cheek against it.
"Lemuel…?" Fiammetta trails off, her voice sounding subtly strained.
"You're really sweet on me…" Lemuel sinks further into her shoulder, shooting a glance at Fiammetta before turning her attention to the finishing sunrise. "I dunno what I did to deserve it, but I'm glad I did it."
"You were just yourself…" Fiammetta wraps an arm around Lemuel, rubbing her shoulder. "That's all."
"Hehe…" Lemuel laughs under her breath, before reeling back her head and poking Fiammetta's side with her horn. "Poke!"
"Ow–!" Fiammetta jolts away, turning to face Lemuel fully. She smiles, a rare glint appearing in her eye. "Okay, come here you."
She goes to grab Lemuel by the scruff of her jacket, missing as the shorter girl ducks out of the way. "Too slow!"
Things feel fine once more as she runs away, letting Fiammetta playfully chase her. Things would never go back to normal, she'd accepted this by now, but that didn't mean Lemuel couldn't make the best of it. That they couldn't make the best of it. It's what she did best, and if it kept a smile on Fiammetta's face, she'd keep it up as long as she needed to. Til' his death did them part.
…
Hours later, the two silently drive on Trimounts' streets. The concrete jungle surrounding them was nothing like they'd seen in Laterano, or anywhere else for that matter. The closest was Lungmen, however brief their time there had been. Just as Lemuel sinks into the passenger seat, her eyes can see it. Fort Barron, Blacksteel's landship. A colossal showcase of Blacksteel's scale and power. As she takes it in, her heart settles on it. She has to get hired. This is her best shot at getting the firepower she needs to hunt down Andoain outside of Laterano. She straightens her back and pulls up her hoodie, hiding her horns.
Her shift in attitude doesn't go unnoticed by Fiammetta, who clears her throat and speaks up, "We can still turn back now—"
"No." Lemuel pauses, before going tense. "Sorry, I mean…! This… no matter the danger, this place is our best shot. You said you'd be there for me… So please, trust me on this one. That's all I ask."
"Of course," Fiammetta sighs. "I don't mean to doubt you, I just… don't want you to be uncomfortable."
Lemuel giggles, "Thank you, Fifi."
They go through the motions–check-in at Blacksteel, confirm their mailed in application forms belong to them–until they're finally directed to a shooting range and told to wait for someone to come "evaluate their skills". It makes sense to Lemuel, anyone could merely be lying about being proficient with guns, for example. So having someone confirm an applicant's aptitude was a smart move.
They're not left waiting for long, as a woman–somehow shorter than Lemuel herself–walks in, holding a pistol and a grenade launcher. She sets the pistol down on a table, clearing her throat as she turns to face both Fiammetta and Lemuel. "Good afternoon, I'm Liskarm, a longtime Blacksteel operative. I'll be the proctor overseeing the review of your submitted qualifications. Any questions?"
"Excuse me," Fiammetta begins, "I was wondering if this truly is how the selection process works. Not that I'm complaining about any fast tracking, but it felt especially quick with us."
Liskarm hums. "Are you calling it shady?"
"I'm not saying it isn't."
"I guess that's fair enough… Usually, BSW has a strict selection process. However, after one of our operators presented your applications to our CEO, he quickly told us to immediately test your qualifications and to leave the interview for later. If I had to make a guess?" Liskarm pauses and hands Fiammetta the BSW branded grenade launcher. "You two coming from Laterano interested him, and it certainly helps that you've got a past with a Gun Knight."
Fiammetta raises an eyebrow as Lemuel tilts her head. "You know about that…?" she says in response, slightly incredulous.
"Word got around. Which is why I'll be starting with you, Fiammetta. The grenade launcher I've just handed you has weakened grenades loaded into it. On the other side of this training ground, you'll notice a circular pattern on the floor. Your task is simple," she takes out a small remote from her jacket, "I'll begin a training program. Standard for BSW operatives to work on their reaction time inside an obstacle course. Complete it by reaching the other end of the room while hitting all targets, and you'll be accepted."
"And?"
"... And nothing." Liskarm sighs, "Like I've said, you two are fringe cases. Proving your aptitude will be enough to prove your background is true in his eyes."
"... Alright, I suppose." Fiammetta glances back at Lemuel. The same question seems to linger on her mind as it does Lemuel's. "Is she going to do the same thing?"
"Yes, though I'll be harsher with her," Liskarm admits.
"Wait, what?" Lemuel perks up, looking at her proctor.
Fiammetta squints. "Yeah, what's this all about?"
"CEO's orders. Come on now, we're wasting time." Having shut down any further questioning, she gestures for Fiammetta to move to the beginning of the training ground. "On my mark."
"I… tsk, fine." Biting her tongue, Fiammetta goes with it. Lemuel can tell she wants to give her a piece of her mind, badly, but she's glad she held back, even if only temporarily.
"It's okay, Fifi. I promise," she reassures her. Out of the corner of her eye, Lemuel can see Liskarm shoot them an unreadable glance. She wonders if they're already being judged.
The air stills as Fiammetta readies herself, standing just behind a dividing line. Her grip tightens on her launcher, sweat runs down the side of her face. "Go!" Liskarm shouts, pressing her remote and sounding a buzzer. Immediately, targets pop up from the ground, walls, and ceiling, all covering Fiammetta's path to the finish line. Like instinct, Fiammetta runs forward, shooting and taking down any and all targets that come in-between her and her victory. As she does this, Lemuel watches, mesmerized. It'd been so long since she'd gotten a chance to admire Fiammetta's skills in a controlled environment, but watching her fly through the course, smoothly taking down each and every target… It was like watching a dance performance, with the Liberi as the most skilled performer Lemuel had ever seen.
Liskarm presses another button midway through, and drones drop in from the ceiling, shooting paint pellets at Fiammetta. Just barely, she's able to dodge most of them, weaving by as they just barely miss her. Most, however, is not all, as one pellet hits her square in her non-dominant arm with surprising force, prompting a gasp from Lemuel, and a muttered curse from Fiammetta. It's the only pellet to hit her, yet it hangs in both their minds like a sword. Does that mean she failed?
Following their barrage, the drones are dispatched even quicker by Fiammetta, as though getting hit triggered an emotional reaction within her, making her try even harder. She bobs and weaves oncoming moving obstacles, jumps gaps, until finally, she jumps for the finish line, landing with a roll as a buzzer marks the end of her time. Fiammetta briefly pants, before composing herself and swallowing her breath.
"Two minutes and thirty two seconds! Pass! Times hit, one, non lethal! Pass! Reaction time, excellent! Pass!" Liskarm shouts from beside Lemuel. "Combat aptitude evaluation, excellent!"
"So that means…" Lemuel trails off.
She shoots the Sankta a smile. "Fiammetta, you have passed the aptitude exam for Blacksteel Worldwide! Welcome aboard, operative!"
After a short walk, Fiammetta returns to the two of them, being met with a tackle hug from Lemuel. "Fifi, congrats!"
"Easy, easy," Fiammetta laughs it off, giving the shorter girl a twirl before setting her down. "You've gotta save your energy for your course."
"She's right, you know," Liskarm concurs, taking the pistol and handing it to Lemuel. "Rubber bullets, same conditions. Your course, however, will require more precise aiming and have far more rigorous requirements. Do you understand?"
Fiammetta's face drops as she hears Liskarm talk more and more, speaking up and interrupting her, "Alright, that's it, what's the deal here? What did she do? This isn't fair at all, she should have the same standa–"
"Fifi," Lemuel cuts her off. "It's okay."
"But…"
She shoots Fiammetta a small smile. "I'll be alright! Start the timer, ma'am."
Upon seeing her expression, Fiammetta backs away, clenching her fist slightly and nodding. Lemuel walks to the starting line, shooting Liskarm a nod as she looks over her pistol one last time. She takes a deep breath as she sees Liskarm raise the remote from the corner of her eyes… "Go!" she shouts, and Lemuel runs off. And it all comes back to her, like she'd never stopped using a gun at all. Like riding a bike. It feels like home, in a way she hasn't felt in literal years. She runs and guns, shooting down targets the very instant they pop into view. Nothing else matters but the course. Her feet feel like they're floating through everything.
The drones fly in, and within the second, each one is gone. The obstacles move by her like she's not even there, passing through harmlessly. She rolls past the finish line, taking a deep breath, and letting the magazine's clatter to the floor, empty. Not a single wasted bullet, precisely counted. Lemuel runs back before Liskarm can evaluate her, handing her back her pistol. "Thank you for the opportunity!"
"O-One minute and fourty seconds! Pass! Times hit, zero! Pass! Reaction time, outstanding! Pass!" Liskarm speaks, surprised, as Fiammetta looks on with pride. "Combat aptitude evaluation, outstanding… Welcome aboard, ope-"
"Not quite," a new voice speaks up, gruff and gravely. All three turn to look at the source, and Liskarm immediately rises to attention. An old man, wearing a rancher hat and large coat. His very presence chills the room down a few degrees, not for his appearance overall, but for his race. A Sankta. The man standing in front of them right then and there, is Rupert Cliff, the CEO of the very company they're applying to.
Liskarm salutes him, clearing her throat, "S-Sir! Is there something wrong with my evaluation?"
"Wrong? No, but it is incomplete," he begins, looking Lemuel up and down. Fiammetta steps between them subtly, sticking her arm out just enough to cover Lemuel's body. "You. Sankta."
"Y-yes…?" Lemuel squeaks out, her voice crack making Fiammetta cover her more.
He nods at the top of her head. "Your hood. Take it off."
Fiammetta grimaces, stepping forward. At the sight of Fiammetta protecting her, Lemuel's heartbeat quickens, she really means a lot to her, doesn't she…? Just like… she means a lot to Lemuel. "Hey, the Hell is with t–"
Still… denying him wouldn't do them much good, no matter how lovely her act of defiance is. "No, it's… It's fine, Fiammetta. I figured something like this would happen." Lemuel sighs, grabbing the edges of her hood. "I… I had a feeling he wouldn't be fooled."
She pulls it down, revealing her horns. Liskarm stares at her briefly, seemingly comparing her to Rupert. "Hm."
"Well, mister Cliff…?"
"Thank you. That's all I needed to confirm." He sighs, before extending his hand in an open palm. "Welcome aboard."
Lemuel shakes it, confused. "Do… you not have a problem with me being fallen?"
He pulls away. "This isn't Laterano. Nor am I trying to make it be that. So no, I do not. So long as you're a good mercenary, I couldn't care less, Lemuel." He turns away, nodding to Liskarm. "Show them to their dorms, if you'd please. Thank you for your time, operatives."
Without another word, he walks away. The room is silent for what feels like an eternity, before Liskarm sighs and reaches into her jacket, pulling out two plastic cards. "Here, your temporary IDs. Come on, I'll…. Show you around, I guess."
…
After being given a brief tour of the BSW facilities, getting their things, and being shown to their dorm, the two decide to relax with a long, long overdue shared bath… the thought of which still makes Lemuel's heart skip a beat if she thinks about it for too long. As she lays there, on Fiammetta's lap, she sinks into the water, taking in the warmth of Fiammetta's body and bath combined.
She doesn't know how long they stay like that for. She doesn't move much, and neither does Fiammetta. Both just sit there, taking in each other's company. Until… Lemuel recalls what Fiammetta did for her, ALL Fiammetta has done for her, and finds herself wrapping tightly around Fiammetta's arm, nuzzling into her.
Fiammetta hums, "Hey, what's all this now?"
"Fifi… I wanted to say thank you for standing up for me… that was really really sweet of you."
In turn, Fiammetta smiles. "... Anything for you, El."
Looking up at Fiammetta, she blinks. Her heartbeat quickens once more as she thinks to ask a question. "Anything?"
"... Anything."
"Can…" She gulps, and looks away. "Can you say you love me?"
A beat passes. Fiammetta doesn't respond. For a moment, Lemuel thinks she's ruined it. She went too far. Who'd love her, a fallen angel anyhow? A freak of nature like her… She looks up, ready to apologize… Only to receive a kiss on the lips. Brief, but wonderfully tender. Like the warmth from a bite of homemade meals. She pulls back, as she feels her cheeks burn up.
"I love you too, Lemuel." Fiammetta nuzzles into the top of her head. "I love you too."
Settling into somewhere new had never been easier for Lemuel. Yeah. They could do this. Together. A new start for them, at Blacksteel.