Unblossomed
By: Celes Chere
(Original characters: SquareEnix)
1: To Sprout
"Lady Porom! If you don't hurry up, the water will get cold!"
"R-Right!" Porom called back, biting her lip and releasing a silent scream as she spun away from her closed bedroom door, where the disembodied voice that belonged to one of the house fellow mages had been haunting her to get in the bath for nearly a half-hour now. She was way behind schedule and had started off her day on the wrong foot by sleeping through her alarm, something she hadn't done since she was a little kid. Everything only had escalated from there – she had been forced to skip breakfast, race downstairs to administer final exams in half-wrinkled robes that she had pulled from the floor and had barely passed the sniff test, endure the snickers and judgmental stares from her students who were clearly thrilled about being locked inside on a perfect, sunny day, and finally, had to make an emergency stop at the infirmary after one of her lower-level students somehow managed to light himself on fire. And it was not just any fire, mind you – but a strain of flame that was ceaseless and undying, no matter how many Blizzard and Blizzara spells were cast upon him as a countermeasure by his classmates before Porom had given up and hauled him away.
Once the final exams had been collected, and the students dismissed for the summer semester, Porom had dragged her already-exhausted behind back upstairs to her room, which she was ashamed to admit had somehow become even worse since her last cleaning job just the previous week. Clothes were strewn everywhere, towers of books long-collapsed scattered on the desk and floor, and the waste basket was filled with a fifty-fifty mix of crumpled up papers and apple cores that were starting to turn. When Porom collapsed on the edge of her bed to catch a breather, she heard a flutter of misplaced papers suddenly rain to the floor, and lowered her head to her hands, uttering a groan.
Those were most likely her notes from the last village town hall, all meticulously documented and filed in a specific order from least-pressing, easy to resolve concerns (a more excessive than usual rainy season had led to the northwestern pond flooding several homes and streets), to more complex problems (a family of aggressive Zuus had begun nesting in one of the nearby forests and had taken to dive-bombing hunters who got within even a breathing radius).
But the part that was stressing her the most about the state of the room was that the mess was multiplied by two – because somehow, Porom's garbage had managed to also steadily migrate to her roommate's side, taking over what was once a pristine desk and a carefully-made bed-turned-overflow wardrobe. To Porom, it was one thing to be a menace to yourself – as long as your lifestyle or filthy habits were yours alone and didn't impact anyone else, more power to you. Perhaps the old, pre-village head Porom would have taken issue with even going that far, but during these last few weeks, she had found that she needed to quickly adapt to lower and lower standards of existence to keep herself from going insane.
But to be a burden on others…ugh, it sent her into hives just thinking about the look of disgust that would be painted on Leonora's face when she walked through the door and saw all this.
And unfortunately, that moment was forthcoming – Palom and Leonora were due home at any hour – last she had heard, they were dropping off the airship they had borrowed at Baron's shipyard and would be taking the Devil's Road home – she had no way of knowing if they were planning on visiting Prince Ceodore or anyone else before making the last leg of their journey, which meant time was of the essence.
That had been her crisis of conscious when the mage's final warning came about the bath – did she tear through the room like Hurricane Porom to stuff away as much of the mess as she could and inconvenience someone to draw her a bath later, or did she just take care of business now and hope the gods of time were on her side so that she could come back refreshed, revitalized and tackle her problems with a semblance of logic? She wanted to be in a good state of mind when Leonora and Palom came back – she had missed them terribly, even more than she thought she would have – life had been really lonely with both of them absent from the tower for the first time since war had ended.
An annoying itch suddenly seized hold of her scalp, and as Porom dragged her nails around her greasy hair, she visibly shuddered.
Choice made – the bath had definitely won out. She couldn't bring herself to welcome them home like this; the least she could do was at least pretend on the outside that she had her life under control.
After she had gathered some clean clothes (taken from Leonora's bed – progress was already being made!), she raced up the stairs to the next level of the tower, which was primarily used as a bathing hall. Ever since she could remember, the tower's residents had utilized an orderly bathing schedule – men and woman switched off use of the hall every other day, and hot water pours began at seven AM sharp and were maintained throughout the morning by whichever black mage was assigned to that chore for the week. But it was rare that the assignee didn't have a class or some other occupation within the tower to tend to later that morning, so latecomers were usually gifted with cold water and a hard lesson learned to get there earlier, next time.
In the private entryway of the chamber that held the baths, Porom kicked off her pink leather sandals, sliding them into a cubby and bitterly noting that there were no other shoes to be found. She then slipped out of her robes, depositing them into a basket above the cubby with her clean clothes and tugging the ribbon out of her hair that had been keeping it out of her face for the morning's misadventures. Snagging a clean towel off of a hook, she dashed into the bathing area, a sandstone-lined chamber that graduated to a sunken, tiled depression that made up the bath proper. Depositing the towel on the floor, she dipped a toe inside, bracing herself for the worst.
…Praise the Gods! Warm water!
Crookedly grinning to herself, she slid the rest of the way beneath the water, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as her legs, then stomach, then chest, and finally the curve of her shoulders became embraced in the soothing warmth of mineral spring waters some blessed soul harvested and filled the bath with every day.
She could feel the tension of the hectic morning melting away from her muscles, a gentle fog ushering into her brain that temporarily obscured view of her mental ever-growing to-do list. Since she was alone, she allowed herself the small pleasure of audibly groaning in relief, her hair snaking around her in silken ribbons of pink as she sank yet lower. The freshly-polished full-length windows that made up the northernmost wall of the bath were ablaze with sunbeams, with nary a cloud to be seen – they danced over Porom's skin, giving her an ethereal glow, and made the surface of the water sparkle like a spray of diamonds.
Time to restart the clock, Porom thought, closing her eyes. This day can still be salvaged. Palom will be home soon, and he'll be able to pick up the work I've fallen behind on. Classes are over for the summer – one less thing I'll have to deal with once I've finished grading the exams. And maybe I'll ask one of the maids to help me clean the bedroom – Palom never has any shame about the filth they must find in his room – why should I be embarrassed?
But the thought of giving someone extra chores just because she couldn't get her act together still made even relaxed Porom's skin crawl. She felt like someone was being punished because of her incompetence, and that ultimately, it would all come back on her ten-fold. As much as she loved her brother (that was, when he was being lovable), she didn't much love anyone being able to compare her to him in any capacity. He was fury, she was grace. He was messy, she was neat (usually). He was the frenzied genius, she was the thoughtful strategist. He thrived on chaos and disruption, and she flourished within order and regulation. That was how it had been the entire twenty-two years they had been occupying this planet, and after surviving two galaxy-reaching wars and countless, more-localized conflicts just between the two of them, they had begrudgingly settled into and accepted their roles as total opposites.
Yes, she didn't appreciate the way Palom's devil-may-care attitude permeated all aspects his life, and she knew he certainly thought she was too conservative, too risk-averse, too damn boring – but they had finally accepted that they needed each other to bring balance to the bizarre circumstances that made up their lives. Orphaned twin magical prodigies that wound up saving the world not once, but twice, who could count the world's most powerful kings and queens among their closest allies, and who were now the leaders of the magic capital of the world at the tender age of twenty-two: To Porom, it felt as if the only other person in the world who understood Porom's brand of crazy was her twin, and she felt fairly confident Palom would say the same of her.
It had been months ago that Porom, Palom and the young woman fate had thrown in their path, the naïve, but determined Troian Epopt Leonora, had come home from the battle on the True Moon that had nearly destroyed them all. But Porom still felt as if it were yesterday – that was how quickly time had sped by since she and her brother had officially been awarded Mysidia's care in their new roles as co-heads of the village. But another wonderful thing had happened, too – Leonora had left her home in Troia in pursuit of becoming a sage and had showed up in Mysidia one random day in hopes that Palom would take her on as his student. She had been welcomed to their home residence, the Tower of Prayer, with open arms, and a benevolent energy seemed to settle in alongside her – Palom became slightly gentler in his interactions with those around him, and even the Elder, their adoptive father, seemed to become more relaxed with another young, bright mind hanging around to keep his children from killing each other.
Porom's mind drifted back to earlier that morning, to the precise moment where the adrenaline had surged through her body like one of Leviathan's tidal waves and sent her careening into her disaster of a day. She had opened her eyes, stirred from what had been an amazing dream by a peel of raucous laughter outside her cracked-open window. She remembered thinking it was odd to hear so many voices that early in the morning – her bedroom faced the western side of the tower, where other than a community garden and small well was situated, did not see a lot of action until later in the morning, when it was time to gather supplies for lunch or dinner. Her eyes had caught a glimpse of the wind-up clock on her nightstand, and she remembered feeling a brief tickle of confusion in her stomach when it appeared that the minute hand and the hour hand on the clock's face had been reversed.
And then the reality of her situation had all come crashing down to her at once – coinciding perfectly with the arrival of a stiff breeze that knocked over yet another pile on her desk. She was very, very late, for what was undoubtedly one of the most critical sessions of the semester – and Palom, nor anyone else, was around to substitute the proctoring of the exams. Even the Elder – well, technically the former Elder, but Porom would never know him as anyone else – had managed a rare getaway from the village with several of his aides. He was conducting his annual pilgrimage to Kaipo, where he would pray over his best friend, Tellah's, grave and conduct other business at Castle Damcyan with King Edward and Queen Harley, keepers of the Crystal of Fire.
May this be the end of my growing pains in this new role, Porom thought. At least, for the time being. Time to think of bigger and better things.
Like that most lovely dream that had spurred the morning's disasters…Porom let out a little sigh, pressing her lips together as she sank yet deeper in the bath, the water splashing the curve of her jaw as she dipped her head back to completely soak her hair. It had been a recurring dream that she had started having randomly since her return home from the True Moon. Even with her abundance of magical blood, Porom's dreams had never been anything out of the ordinary – the usual fare when she was younger about showing up to class naked or forgetting that she had a huge, life-changing exam that she didn't study for. But these dreams had a totally different flavor – for one thing, they were some of the most lucid visions she had ever had – she felt as if she had full control over every moment and movement within, which for a control freak like her, was pleasurable all in itself. The other detail that distinguished them, however, was…
Well…
A tinge of pink blossomed on the apples of her cheeks as she replayed the phantom trails of kisses soft lips had traced over her neck, chest, and then yet further down her abdomen, the heady scent of rain meeting the ocean and citrus drowning her senses. She buried her hands in a pile of flaxen curls that wove through her fingers, wrapping her hands in gauntlets of silk. Every time she had tried to catch a glimpse at her lover's face by gently tugging at their hair, they would press deeper against Porom's body, and she would feel a rush of blood cascade from her head to her hips, starlight exploding behind her eyes and distracting her from her efforts. Every time the dream visited her, it was like welcoming home an old friend whom you hadn't spoken to in years, yet everything picked up exactly as it had been left – Porom could feel the subtle shifts in her consciousness as the dream took hold, levers clicking on and off in a whir in her brain – stressors about the world, her family, the crushing responsibility that had been laid on the shoulders of a twenty-two year old woman? Click! Deactivated. The insatiable urge to suddenly want to be worshipped, loved, touched, torn down to her foundation and exquisitely rebuilt by delicate, yet depraved hands? Click! Thrown into overdrive.
Needless to say, the non-existence of any semblance of a dating life for Porom during daylight hours made those types of dreams even more of a welcome distraction – and they always seemed to come when she was feeling her lowest, as if her body could sense she needed the distraction. A small, devious part of her also enjoyed that she had a secret life, even if it was only in her imagination, that no one else was privy to. As one-half of the child prodigy duo that became famous for their magical abilities before they could even utter a proper sentence (Porom was fairly sure that the rumor about Palom setting his own crib on fire as a baby was rooted in truth), Porom's life had always been, by default, up for public consumption. It had never been something she particularly minded: She understood that the flip side of growing up in a privileged existence as the village Elder's daughter and having access to the best of everything to further her magical development meant that people in the village who supported that lifestyle would have a vested interest in her. Being a twin meant she had fight twice as hard to carve out her own identity in the public eye, too.
But even so, she still craved some level of autonomy and she treasured those rare fragments of her life that were hers and hers alone – fragments that had nothing to do with her being a prodigy in white magic, being a twin, being a war hero, or, now, filling the really big, really established shoes of Mysidia's previous Elder.
My dream was different this time, Porom mused. There was something about it that made me want to press on and on…no wonder I ignored my alarm. I just wish I could remember all of it…
No matter how much she tried to relax and clear her mind of any distractions, it just wouldn't come back to her. She plunged her head completely beneath the surface of the bath, the lap of the water and the sterile echo of her breathing fading away to vibrating nonsense that bubbled in the back of her skull. As she ran her hands down the front of her abdomen and circled around to the back of her legs in a quick scrub, she felt a tiny spark of reminiscence burst inside her mind, a dull ache pulsing in her hips as her fingers brushed over the supple length of skin between the curve of her ass and her thigh.
This feels familiar… She pressed her fingers in harder, marveling at the difference in the tautness of the flesh over the well-developed muscles in the back of her thighs versus the soft, pliable skin of her rear, and slowly slid her hand over the top of her thigh, gingerly pressing her fingertips against the aching spot between her legs. I was pulling someone close to me – warmth overflowing between my fingers, melding against them. Skin so soft that all I wanted to do was… She shivered as she pressed her fingers lower and was rewarded with the flash of another memory: her mouth, chapped, swollen and as pink as her hair, urgently tugging at a teardrop-shaped rise of alabaster flesh.
…Wait…what!?
"Lady Porom? A-are you alright?"
Porom's eyes snapped open, a blur of corn silk and white floating over her from above. She emerged from the bath, exhaling loudly as a rush of desperately-needed air filled her lungs, and whirled around, blinking the water out of her eyes. The figure behind her fell back in surprise, a tangle of slender white legs sprayed with an almost translucent film of downy blonde hairs and a twisted bath towel that covered all of the rest of her. Her magenta-stained lips were half-open in shock, a spill of yellow-white wavy hair tumbling over her shoulders. Kind, sleepy, gray-green eyes were peering at her from beneath hooded lids, her side-swept bangs dangling over her brow.
"L-Leonora!" Porom gasped. "I'm so sorry – are you OK?"
"S-sure," Leonora stuttered, clutching her towel to her chest as she slowly rose to her feet. "I was just wondering the same myself about you. Y-you weren't moving when I came in, and I…"
Porom shook her head quickly, settling back down into the bath so that she was no longer looking directly up Leonora's towel – not that she could see anything, anyway – Leonora was a pro at keeping her body under serious lockdown in the bathing area. She knew from living with Leonora for these past few months that she was terribly shy about anything that had to do with her body – years of being groomed to become a Troian Epopt had ingrained within her stalwart values that correlated purity with the human body, and even when she had shared a living space with her fellow Epopt candidates, all women, Leonora had explained that they would all bathe in white gowns or bathing suits and were encouraged (although not explicitly told) to retain their "chastity" for as long as possible – such activities were considered disruptive to one's service of the Crystal of Earth and a distraction. It was why the current seven Epopts that served Troia were themselves unmarried – they were sisters that had made a vow of celibacy when they decided to dedicate their lives to the crystal. (The eighth post, which Leonora had accepted and then promptly vacated after the war, was now open once more.)
Porom still remembered the night Leonora had told all of this to her and Palom with a straight face over dinner and had how the girl had been marveled when the twins explained they had carried a totally different perception of Troian culture.
"It's a country run by women, for gods' sake," Palom had hiccupped after his third glass of wine. "You can't go ten yards without seeing a tit."
"Palom!" Porom had gasped, slinking into her chair embarrassedly. She honestly didn't want to know what part of Troia he had been to if that were really the case – she had never experienced such a phenomenon in her many trips there. Leonora, for her part, had turned so red at Palom's comment that Porom was afraid she would pass out on the table right then and there and land face-first in her food.
"What he means…" Porom sighed, leaning over the table, "Is that in general, Troia is a very female-positive nation, and places less restrictions on women than other countries – for example, even a place as progressive as Baron still does not allow women in their military, yet Troia does. It just seems like the requirements to serve the Crystal of Earth fly in the face of everything Troia stands for."
"Ah, I understand," Leonora nodded, smiling a little. "Well, like any country – there are more conservative, traditional sects of the population that do things a bit differently. Honestly, it's all I know – and that was one of the reasons why I decided to leave my post. After experiencing everything I did during the war and on the True Moon…I realized there was a lot more world for me to see before I settled down in any one place, and that there were people who wanted my post that didn't have the inclination to…shall we say, wander? Besides, I don't think the Epopts totally believed me when I told them what purpose the crystal actually served – I realized that in doing so, I was shattering hundreds of years of tradition that their families had dedicated their lives to. Of course, I'm perfectly content with them carrying on like nothing has changed, but…" She shook her head, pressing her lips together. "…Something irrevocable inside of me changed when I came home – and I could no longer ignore it."
"Well, we are both very glad you are here," Porom beamed, raising her glass. "Can you imagine what life would be like now if Palom hadn't been assigned to be your black magic teacher before war broke out?"
"I honestly cannot," Leonora giggled. "If it hadn't been for Palom encouraging me…I might have never even thought about how wonderful it would be to become a sage – and I most certainly wouldn't be here with you two right now." Leonora raised her glass too, and they clinked them together with a knowing smile. Palom tossed back the rest of his drink without comment, hiccupping again.
"I'm fine," Porom bleated, her cheeks reddening when she thought about what she might have looked like under the water. Just how much had Leonora seen of her? Had her face looked…funny? Happy?
…Or a little too happy?
Leonora slipped around the other side, stepping into the bath a few feet away from Porom and smoothing her towel against her skin as it began to soak up the water and flare out. At first, the less understanding mages that typically congregated the baths at the same time as Leonora whispered about how strange it was that the ex-Epopt was never comfortable enough doing something as benign as bathing with women she felt were otherwise fit to eat, sleep and associate with in and around the tower. But now a few months later, everyone was used to it, Porom included. She too, had had to remind herself that Leonora was the stranger in a strange land, and hadn't grown up with any of the knowledge of Mysidian traditions – in fact, rather than think she was meek or docile, Porom felt that Leonora was a hell of a lot stronger than most – she had given up everything she had ever known, and the only dream she had ever had, just based on the nagging instinct that perhaps there was something greater waiting for her.
Porom could easily say with a straight face that just the thought of ever doing what Leonora had done – defying authority, running away from home, and provoking disappointment in those who had poured their hopes and dreams into her – made her want to pee her pants.
But that trail of thought, unfortunately, brought Porom back full-circle to why Leonora had been gone in the first place – and holy chocobos, she was back now, and Porom hadn't done ANYTHING she was supposed to do…! She silently cursed herself for spending too much damn time in the bath and thinking about too many things that were hardly considered productive, even as the ache in the center of her hips kept on persistently throbbing, and the muscle memory of the shapely contours of flesh that had filled her hands in her dream made her fingers twitch anxiously beneath her legs – she had shoved them out of sight so that Leonora wouldn't notice her acting so weird.
"Did you, um…" Porom's brain short-circuited as she struggled to pull her mind out of the proverbial gutter. "…Happen to stop by our room on your way up?"
Leonora had been picking at her fingernails and looked up in surprise when Porom started talking. She had thought for sure based on the stormy look in Porom's eyes that she was not exactly keen on having company – Leonora had noticed that the usual azure blue of Porom's gaze had been swallowed almost entirely by pools of black.
"No, I'm afraid not – I was so exhausted after we made it back that I told Palom I needed to come up here straightaway and have some peace," Leonora pressed her cheek against her hand, smiling slightly. "A couple weeks of Palom go a long way, don't they?"
Her stutter is gone, Porom thought, the corner of her mouth tugging up. I must have made her nervous before…poor thing probably feels like she is always walking on eggshells between Palom's insanity and my…well, whatever the hell is wrong with me these days.
"They certainly do," Porom nodded. "But were you at least successful in what you set out to accomplish? I suppose I don't entirely understand why he dragged you out of here in the first place. It happened rather fast."
Leonora's gaze faltered for a moment, and Porom felt her stomach flip-flop.
"I'll tell you later. There certainly was a lot crammed into our journey, and if I told you everything now, we'd both be wrinkled prunes by the time I was done."
Uh-oh, Porom gulped. That's Leonora-speak for "I'm going to cry if you make me think about this for one more second".
Porom lifted her gaze to the clock that was hanging in the room and made a show of being shocked at the time. "Well, on that note…" She pulled herself out of the water, reaching around and wringing out her waist-length hair, "…I should be getting back to things myself. I kind of got a late start to the day."
"Oh," Leonora blinked, lowering her chin. "Does that mean you have a lot of errands? Classes are over, right?"
The ache in her hips suddenly pulsed so fiercely that Porom nearly fell over. What…the…hell…? I need to get this dream off my mind, or I'm not going to be much use of anyone today.
Is it just me, or does Leonora sound so disappointed all of a sudden?
Porom reached for her towel, feeling strangely conscious of just how naked she was even though she could count on all her fingers and toes how many times she and Leonora had bathed together just like this. She quickly wrapped the towel around her chest, tucking the end in by her armpit. She caught another glance at Leonora's slumped form and sighed. She didn't want Leonora to think she was purposely ditching her – she obviously wanted someone to talk to that wasn't Palom. But…
"Leonora…I'll just come out and say it."
"Mmmm?" Leonora mumbled, and Porom pressed her hand to her forehead, grumbling.
"I turned our room into an absolute sty while you were gone. I was falling behind with so much that I turned our room into ground zero for my operations. Shortly after you and Palom departed, the Elder decided to also take his pilgrimage to Kaipo – I may have been too hasty in assuring him that I had everything handled for him to go. So, as you can imagine, things were kind of crazy here. Not that I'm using it as an excuse… But I wanted to try to straighten up before you came back so you didn't have to deal with it after your long journey."
"Are you serious?" Leonora blinked, and Porom averted her gaze. Suddenly, Leonora burst into a fit of laughter, and had to clutch her towel to keep it from popping open. "It's not a big deal! Obviously, I was not here to use the room, so what harm does it do me? If I wanted to come home and sleep, there are no shortages of beds anywhere else in the tower, eh?"
Porom flushed, turning away. She knew Leonora wasn't intending to be cruel – there wasn't a single cruel bone in Leonora's body, as far as she could tell – but her dismissive little laugh that sounded like tinkling crystal when it echoed off the bath walls made Porom feel as if she were obsessing over nothing.
Although…when Leonora puts it that way…it all does sound…stupid.
So why do I care so much about getting out of here right this minute?
She didn't have an answer for herself, of course, or else she would have sat right back down. Instead, she made a show of tucking the towel tighter so that there was zero chance of any accidental flashings on her way out. "At any rate, that's what I'm on my way to do," Porom said, shrugging away Leonora's comment and plastering on a smile. "I'll let you know when it's safe to enter." She stepped out of the bath, starting to cross the hall back to the changing room. Just as she reached the threshold, she heard Leonora call out to her, and she froze in place.
"Porom…if you want help, you need only ask. I know that Palom shares half your responsibilities, but…" Leonora shook her head, "…I'm only here to train to become a sage, and I'm sure I don't understand everything you do that keeps Mysidia running. But I'm at least competent enough to clean a room. Or you can put me to work another way, if need be. You and Palom have done far too much for me to not be of any service to you."
'Only here to become a sage', Porom's shoulders hunched as she stared at the floor, watching as beads of water steadily dripped down the length of her legs and splashed onto the stone. Maybe that's true…but since you've come here, life in Mysidia has been so much better. I finally have a friend that I can actually talk to about something other than mastering the next level of magic or village drama. Someone that cares about Palom as much as I do yet doesn't think the sun shines out of his ass and is happy to call him out on his idiocy. Someone I can just be a normal girl with. I don't want to push any more of my problems onto you – I just want you to be here, and be happy, so that you want to keep on with your training for as long as possible.
Porom bit her lip. That reminded her – she needed to find Palom too and get his perspective of what happened on the trip – preferably before she heard Leonora's side of the story. Leonora always tended to down-play the hurt others inflicted upon her – with Palom, he would at least be honest about his transgressions, simply because he wouldn't see anything wrong with them. Porom would use the notes from the latest town hall as her excuse to hunt him down and ease her way into the conversation so that she didn't look too nosy.
"I appreciate it," Porom offered in reply, swishing through the curtain that acted as the divider between the rooms and disappearing from sight. Leonora's gaze lingered after Porom's willowy form for a few beats before she sunk deeper into the bath, closing her eyes and clutching her towel tighter as she dipped her head back.
It didn't occur to Porom until long after she had returned to their room that Leonora, in her offer to help, had not prefaced her name with her usual "Lady" honorific.
It was only later that afternoon that Porom had been able to find her brother. She had worked through lunch, using the opportunity to tear through a sandwich with one hand (she was ravenous from skipping breakfast) and grade exams with the other at her freshly-cleared desk, the windows thrown wide-open so she could take advantage of the sunshine to lift her mood. After she had completed the grading, she dropped the marks off with an apprentice mage to get posted and finished the last of her purging of the room. She had been sure to do Leonora's side as soon as she had returned from the baths, but Leonora had never come back. She didn't hear the door to her brother's room across the hall open at any point either, so perhaps Leonora had decided to strike it out on her own for lunch as well.
The more time Porom spent basking in the sun and the more she was able to check off of her to-do list, the faster the torrid dream faded from her memory. The ache between her legs had finally died, and she no longer felt as if she were going to pop like an overinflated balloon at the slightest provocation. She paused in front of her open wardrobe as she hung up a final tunic she had retrieved from the floor, staring at her reflection in the pair of mirrors that were nailed into each door. Her air-dried hair was framing her heart-shaped face with tousled curls, and the seemingly permanent blush in her cheeks had at-last faded back to her usual toasted color with just a splash of freckling that she picked up every summer. Once she had changed into a clean white sundress with her pink striped tights underneath, she felt good as new again.
I was clearly just stressed. My body was desperate for a release – anything to keep me from throwing myself out a window.
It didn't mean anything…
She subconsciously sucked back on her lower lip until it bloomed a deep coral and emerged from the inside of her mouth swollen and moistened. An unsettling tickle rose in her pelvis as her eyes darted down to the gossamer twin swells of pink now poking against the bust of her dress, the salty-sweet taste that had taken over her mouth in the dream as her tongue had probed that delicate flesh now crashing over her like a waterfall.
E-especially that last part…
She slammed the wardrobe doors shut, tugged on a spare cloak, and gathered the notes from the town hall she had freshly re-arranged into a folder.
Palom, surprisingly, was in his usual classroom, spraying down a blackboard and running a rag over it. He looked up as Porom entered, giving her a half-wave.
"I heard you had your hands full."
She nearly tripped over a table, her face blanching as she thought back to the dream.
"You…erm…heard correctly," Porom wheezed when she realized he was talking about how overwhelmed she had been, straightening herself and ignoring the judgmental cut of Palom's side-eye. "But at least everyone managed to take their exams today."
"Did you grade mine, too?" Palom grinned, and Porom sighed, nodding.
"Yes – but in exchange, you need help me work through this laundry list of concerns the villagers have. I think we'll have to call in some help from Baron, but…"
"Then just do it," Palom shrugged, setting down the rag and stepping back to admire his handy work. "Ceodore is back, along with many of the Red Wings, from the first leg of Cecil's "I'm Sorry Baron Screwed with the Crystals AGAIN" goodwill tour. They should have plenty of help to spare."
"Er…" Porom shook her head, sliding the folder across the table toward him. "Maybe just read first, and then decide? I'd like an informed opinion."
"Yeah, yeah," Palom huffed, snatching the folder but making no motion to actually open it. "I'll look at it later when I need some light bedside reading."
Porom bit her lip, trying to steady her building rage.
He just got home from a long trip – he's probably exhausted.
Obviously, something unsavory happened between him and Leonora.
He probably feels a little guilty for leaving me alone.
…But he's also kind of being an ass right now.
Porom decided to barrel right on ahead to part B of the conversation she had conveniently mapped out in her mind.
"So how did your trip go? This was some sage training for Leonora, correct? Where did you take her?"
Palom stiffened at the question, and Porom's eyebrow shot up.
Ding, ding, ding – my intuition is never wrong!
He plopped down at one of the shared desks in front of the blackboard, propping his leg across his knee. Porom sat down across from him, crossing her legs primly and folding her hands in her lap. She kind of felt like a therapist, but she supposed that was the whole point – she needed Palom to spill.
"The training went really well, actually…she's developing at such a rapid pace, that I wonder if she's even going to need to stick around here for a full year."
"O…Oh?" Porom swallowed, feeling as if a ball of lead had started to roll around in her gut. "That's…great to hear."
"Sure," Palom shrugged, glaring at a collection of posters hanging on the eastern wall that depicted the three levels of basic black and white magic spells. "We hit up all the hot spots – the Underground Waterway for some undead, Mist Cavern, the Lodestone Cavern and the forests around Troia."
"You went back to Troia?" Porom sat back, a little surprised at this revelation. "Did that make her nervous, returning home so soon after resigning from her position? I still think she worries about what the people there think of her."
"If she was worried, she didn't say anything," Palom drawled, and Porom anxiously unwove her fingers, drumming them against her thighs.
"Well…you do know that she wouldn't say anything if she was nervous, right? That's kind of how Leonora operates…"
"Yes, of course I know that," Palom spat, and Porom jumped in her chair at his sudden change in tone. "That's the whole point of these exercises, you know – it's not just to have her rack up her kill count for monsters. It's to put her in unfamiliar and undesirable situations and critique the way she reacts to them. If you're nervous, you're not going to be able to cast that lifesaving spell or help anyone else. Half of casting magic is actually knowing the spells – but the other half is having the mindset and the confidence to properly execute. If you don't have a will of steel every time, you'll fail."
"I don't know if I agree with that," Porom said softly, but with resolution. "You don't think someone like Queen Rosa or Rydia still gets a little afraid when they are on the battlefield? Anything can shake one's will in the heat of battle – if confidence does turn to fear, it's just a matter of making that fear work for you, right?"
"That's not how I'm teaching her," Palom frowned. "You can't be wishy-washy with someone like Leonora, or she'll just dither about, overthink it all, and cry. Are you implying that after all this time, I don't know my own student?"
"No," Porom pressed her lips together, her mind flashing back to the look on Leonora's face when she had asked about the trip.
Yes.
"That's what I thought. Anyway – as I said, the training went fine, and Leonora kept her game face on the entire time."
And she was probably torturing herself, too – wondering why she couldn't possibly bring herself to tell you how she really felt about it all. That kind of training doesn't build someone like Leonora up – it slowly tears them down, disintegrates their will and their courage until there is nothing left. Maybe that methodology works for you, but…
Leonora is your total opposite!
"Did something else happen?" Porom asked gently. "You just seem kind of down since you got home."
"This is the first time you've seen me," Palom glowered. But after a few moments, he let out another huff, tugging his leg higher up over his knee and keeping his hands gripped on his ankle. "It was when we were in Troia proper, making our arrangements to come home – we were all settled for the night in the inn. I wanted to blow off some steam, so I told Leonora I was going to the King's Bounty Pub. And she totally lost it!"
"…Wait, wait, wait," Porom shook her head in disbelief, wanting to make sure she heard correctly. "The King's Bounty Pub? Isn't that like…a…"
"A club for refined gentlemen?" Palom smirked, and Porom felt the heat rise in her cheeks.
"…I was going to say burlesque show, but…sure."
"Fair enough," Palom shrugged. "But – it's a world-famous one, no less! I didn't get to go the last time I was there, and it was on my bucket list. She really let me have it – telling me that it wasn't 'appropriate', and to think about how it would make her look if I went. But I was like…no one cares about your teacher, Leonora – they just care about what you're doing, how you're carrying yourself. Don't deflect your prissy upbringing on me, you know?"
"I…I don't think that's what she was worried about," Porom blinked. Dear gods…after everything those two went through together when they escaped the True Moon's clutches…he couldn't possibly be that much of an idiot…could he? Her mouth felt dry and sticky as she choked out her next thought. "Palom…you DO realize Leonora likes you, right? Like…beyond a student-teacher relationship."
"Of course," Palom said dryly, and Porom raised her hands, aghast. She didn't like the way the lead ball in her stomach was now blossoming into some sort of spiked abomination that threatened to crawl out of her gaping mouth.
"Then…how could you not see why she would be so upset about you going to a place like…that? I thought you…erm…liked her too?"
"I…I do," Palom lowered his head, blowing his stick-straight, chestnut bangs out of his face. "She's cute, and clever, and I think she has brass balls, doing everything she did for Troia during the war and then coming here to live out her dream. But it's not like we're promised to each other. I thought when she moved in to the tower, things between us would gradually start to evolve – we no longer had the threat of war breathing down our necks, and we could just do normal things together when we weren't training. Get to know each other better, you know?"
"But…?" Porom pressed, and Palom crossed his arms over his chest.
"But all she cares about is training. She takes everything so damn seriously – I can't seem to ever get her to just let go with me. That's why I wanted to go to the King's Bounty – I just wanted to have a little fun – that's not a crime, right? She wouldn't go with me when I asked, so I left her at the inn, I had a good time, and I came back. No harm, no foul. She's been in a tizzy about it ever since though."
Leonora can have fun, Porom frowned. Have you ever just walked around with her in the market just as all the shops are opening for the day, so you can smell everything baking fresh and have a stupid contest to see who can find the other the most delicious breakfast? Have you ever sat with her at the pond to go frog watching, or to catch jars of fireflies to surprise the children confined to their backyards after the sun has set? Have you ever just had a conversation about nothing, and marveled at all the things you have in common, even though you were born continents apart?
"Hello – Porom!" Palom waved his hand in her face, and she blinked, nearly falling out of her chair. It took everything she had not to snatch Palom's fingers and backhand his own face with them.
Why…why am I getting so upset about this…?
"I have to go," Porom mumbled, pushing her chair back and standing up. "But…just tell me one thing. Did you actually talk to her about any of this, yet? Did you explain to her why you felt so compelled to go to the pub in the first place?"
"Sure, I did," Palom shrugged. "Leonora's problem is that she can't separate the real me from her teacher. She doesn't understand that I'm hard on her in training because I want her to succeed – I want her to become a sage probably as much as she does, if not more. But then she clams up on me when we're doing anything else. It wasn't like that when we were traveling together during the war – she was spirited, adventurous…willing to do whatever it took to fight for Troia's crystal. That's all the stuff that made me fall for her. But maybe she doesn't have feelings for me like that now – she doesn't show that side to me anymore."
Porom didn't reply, chewing on her lip as she drummed her fingers anxiously on the back of the chair.
I suppose it's true that being thrown into the war could have made Leonora act different when she first met Palom…when you wake up every day thinking it might be your last on the planet, suddenly the boundaries you've imposed upon yourself don't seem to matter much anymore. But even so…I know Leonora has a crush on Palom…she told Luca and I as much while we were on the True Moon together, and I see the way she looks him when she thinks no one's looking. And she wouldn't have gotten so jealous of him going to see dancing girls if she didn't want him to herself. Why has she not yet told him how she feels? Is it really because she's intimidated by Palom, like he thinks she is?
As long as he thinks there's even the slightest chance of rejection, he'll never confess to her first – that's always been how Palom has operated – do the hurting before someone can hurt you. Maybe if Leonora told him straight to his face what she told me and Luca, he would realize what a moron he is being and just love her back the way she needs…
Heh. What am I talking about? What could I possibly know about what Leonora needs…?
"Where are you going?" Palom tilted his head as Porom pivoted to leave. "You don't have anything else to do today, right?"
Porom smacked her palm against her forehead, knocking herself out of her contemplative state. Why do people keep asking me that?
"Palom…we're the leaders of Mysidia now. There is always something we have to do."
"I know, I know," Palom said quickly, snatching up the folder of notes as a surprisingly sober look washed over his features. "I promise, I'll read these. How about I get started on sorting some of this out, and you grab us something delicious from town for dinner? My treat."
"Erg…" Porom mumbled under her breath. She had wanted to find Leonora – she had a sudden urge to rush back upstairs and make sure she was OK now that she knew what Palom had done to upset her so much...to so brazenly tell the girl that's in love with you that you're going to see a bevy of half-naked women for entertainment – argh, she could smash this chair over his back right now just thinking about it! Not to mention, Porom now felt more than a twinge guilty for abandoning Leonora earlier to do something as stupid as housekeeping…
But…I just had to get out of there…if I had stayed… Porom could feel her heart hammering against her chest when she thought about what Leonora had almost caught her doing in the bath. …I would have done something even more terrible to upset her.
"You can even get dinner from that cutesy little café you like, and I won't breathe a word about it," Palom purred. Porom finally spun back around, jamming her hands on her hips.
"Fine! I'll get us dinner. But after I get back, we need to put together a serious game plan for everything in that folder. There have also been some requests that have come in for the Elder in his absence, and…"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Palom groaned. "Please leave now so I can at least read in peace."
"Hmmph," Porom pouted, spinning on her heel and making her exit. If he hadn't had been so cooperative with spilling the beans and hadn't shown her a peek of his own heartache, she would have killed him two times over by now.
On her way back to the tower with a basket full of carefully wrapped sandwiches, fresh fruit, and a bottle of Mysidia's own Bacchus Wine, Porom wrapped her free arm around herself, shivering as she gazed up at the sky and took in the bruised clouds that had started to gather from the east. It had been so warm when she had left that she had circled back and quickly dropped her cloak off in one of the classrooms so that she wouldn't wind up sweating buckets on her walk. But she had spent a lot of time in the café catching up with random villagers that had stopped her to ask how life was going (what life?), about the Elder's health (better than ever, now that he had given up most of his duties to Palom and Porom), and whether Palom was keeping himself out of trouble (ha ha ha ha ha ha). By the time she had finally managed to escape, the weather had taken a drastic turn for the worse – the lowered temps had sent most of the villagers that usually milled the streets in late evening back to their homes, fireplaces blazing, and a fierce wind had started to pick up, whipping Porom's ponytail violently back from her face like a battle standard.
A storm's approaching…
She hurried the rest of the way home, just barely crossing the threshold of the entryway before the first fat drop of rain fell, smacking into the walkway behind her as she slipped inside. A few seconds later, there was an earth-shaking roll of thunder followed by the rising chorus of rain careening into the tower's roof.
"Lord Palom and Miss Leonora are in the drawing room," an apprentice black mage called out to Porom as he darted across the hall, candles nestled in ivory and plated-gold lined sconces bursting to life as he flicked Fire spells toward each of them. Thanks to their supply of late-evening lingering sunlight being cut off by the storm clouds, the tower had fallen completely dark in the time Porom had been away. "They've been waiting for you."
"Thanks," Porom nodded, rushing past him and turning down the hall. She had been gone for longer than she had intended – everyone was probably well on their way to starving, including herself. It had been difficult for her to stifle the awkward noises her stomach had been making in the café while she was being grilled.
The door to the drawing room was left ajar, the spill of candlelight into the not-yet lit hall guiding Porom to the others. When she was steps away, she reached toward the door to knock and announce her arrival, but found her voice caught in her throat when she heard a frenzied sob from within.
"H-how can you sit there and lie to my face? It's…well…unacceptable!"
Leonora! Porom bit down on her lip, slowly lowering her hand and sliding against the adjoining wall so that she was no longer visible in the light's path. What happened now?
"You're the one who lied first! What were you trying to do, get some sick pleasure out of trying to get me to hang myself?"
And Palom too. Just great. I wonder if this is the first time they've seen each other since they got home?
"I-I didn't l-lie. I was s-so embarrassed that I simply didn't know what to s-say!"
"Heh. Convenient excuse. Either way, you didn't see what you thought you saw. Had you stuck around, you would have realized that."
"W-what I saw was enough!"
"Why do you even care, anyway?"
Porom could feel the acid rising in her throat she listened to another choking sob that bleated out something incomprehensible in reply, her palm that was holding the basket of food now slick with sweat despite the rest of her body being racked in chills.
I can't just keep standing here. Someone's going to realize I'm here. I…
Right on cue, the basket suddenly slipped from Porom's fingers, crashing to the ground and ejecting a couple of rogue clementines that went rolling away. As she scrambled to gather them back up, the door flew open, a red-faced Palom glaring down at her as she sheepishly plucked the clementines off the floor and dropped them back in the basket.
"Ah…dinner's finally here," he snarled, crossing his arms. "Took you long enough. Didja take a detour?"
"Umm…" Porom flushed, hurriedly standing back up and offering the basket up to him. If he was trying to get her to confess to eavesdropping, surely he knew better than to think she would actually comply? "The café was crowded – a lot of people stopped me to check in. I came back as fast as I could."
"Whatever," Palom grunted, pushing the door the rest of the way open as he snatched the basket away. "Welcome to hell."
As Porom shuffled inside, she took one look at Leonora's tear-stained, puffy face from where she was shrinking away in an oversized, fleur-de-lis upholstered wingback chair in the corner, and immediately spun back around to face Palom, the roar of blood rushing through her ears.
"And speaking of 'hell', what in the name of all that is holy happened here!?"
"Porom…" Leonora whimpered, shaking her head. "It's OK. It's done."
"No, it's not. You enjoy drama so much – tell her what you did!" Palom hissed.
"N-no," Leonora lowered her head, sniveling as she dragged the billowing sleeve of her turquoise coatdress across her nose. "I'm n-not putting on a s-show for you!"
"You don't have to tell me anything," Porom assured her as she continued to glare daggers in Palom's direction. "Just take some food and go upstairs."
"Fine, I'll tell her," Palom smirked, lifting the basket away as Porom tried to grab it back from him. "Apparently Leonora is keen to play the role of spy nowadays. She followed me to the King's Bounty to see what I was up to since she doesn't trust me. And instead of approaching me while she was there like an adult, she got mad about something that didn't happen and left without telling me. Which I just found out about now!"
"Huh?" Porom blinked, her gaze flickering back over to Leonora. She had managed to sit up straighter in her chair, although it still swallowed her petite frame – her eyes were glistening with a fresh round of tears as she clenched her jaw so hard that Porom could swear she heard the grind of teeth.
"I wasn't s-spying! You wouldn't let me finish…but it doesn't matter what I was doing, now! I s-saw you…with all those…girls…ugh!" She shuddered and shook her head frantically, like she was trying to throttle the memory out of her brain. "Half-dressed, hanging all over you! And your hands were…UGH!"
"Oh, my gods," Porom groaned, her glare returning to Palom. "Really? Watching the show wasn't enough? You needed a private dance, too?" She was familiar enough with the repertoire of the King's Bounty even without having been there herself – it's not like she didn't teach a bunch of teenage boys who had made it their life's mission to sneak in at some point and had no shame about sharing the gory details with each other while in class when they thought she wasn't listening.
"Is that a crime!?" Palom howled. "And that's exactly all it was – a dance. They pick a random person in the audience – it's not like I was asking for it." He cut his eye to Leonora, who was staring up at him defiantly, her hands clutching the arms of the chair with bone-white knuckles. The sight of the slender curve of her neck, glistening with newly-spilled tears that trailed into a valley of skin hidden from view thanks to the raised collar of Leonora's dress, sent a shiver down Porom's spine. She had to press her fingers to her lips to stifle a breathy moan that had slipped out as she shakily exhaled, a strange tugging sensation rocking her core.
Even shattered, she looks like a queen…
"And my hands weren't anywhere inappropriate! You have to tip, you know! Where am I supposed to stick my gil – in their big, roomy pockets?"
"Ahhh!" Leonora hissed, covering her ears. "Don't make me keep picturing it!"
"Sure," Porom shook her head, tearing her gaze away from Leonora and settling for the chair she sat upon instead so that it wasn't too obvious she was staring. "I'm sure there was no way you tossed your name around to every person you could while you were there to not ensure any kind of special treatment. And I am sure you were a perfect gentleman as well. So. Very. Sure."
"Sarcasm noted," Palom rolled his eyes, finally tossing the basket of food onto the table a few feet away. Porom cringed as she heard the sound of the wine bottle bouncing precariously against the marble tabletop. "I'm telling you the truth, Leonora – I didn't do anything untoward. I wish you would have just let me explain."
"Yeah, w-well, you didn't give me a chance to e-explain either before g-getting mad," Leonora whimpered, hoisting herself out of her chair. "And I saw what I saw. I'm not hungry. I-I'll see myself out."
"Leonora, wait," Porom frowned, reaching for her hand as she swept by. "You should eat something. At least take food for later."
"Please, just leave me be," Leonora sobbed, smacking away Porom's hand and making a mad dash for the door. "I…I've never been so embarrassed in my life." Before Porom or Palom could say anymore, she had disappeared, swallowed by the shadow-drenched corridor, her padded footfalls quickly fading to nothing. Before she could stop herself, Porom found herself racing after her, shooting a final scowl Palom's way as she slammed the door behind her.
She didn't want to feel his nasty smirk on her as she fled back down the hall.
When she reached the tower foyer, her eyes were immediately drawn to the small puddle of water that had appeared in the entryway, sprayed across several feet.
"Leonora!" Porom darted into the classroom where she had left her cloak, praying it would still be there. Sure enough, it was draped over the same chair she had tossed it on, motes of flickering candlelight dancing over the threads. She tossed it over her shoulders, tugging the hood over her head and bolting out the door before she could convince herself that this was all rather foolish.
This is between Leonora and Palom, Porom thought as she stumbled down the already-soaked steps leading up to the tower, her feet nearly flying out from beneath her no less than three times thanks to the non-existent tread on her sandals. It's none of my business…
"Oh, but is that really true…?" the wind seemed to whisper in her ear, a forceful gale smacking into her and bringing with it a bucket of rain that splashed in her face. "Then why are you the one out here braving this storm, and not your twin brother?"
Because I'm the fixer, Porom lowered her head, her fingers clenching at the hood to keep it steady as she came to crossroads that made up Mysidia's village square. Because for as long as Palom has been making messes, I've been two steps behind, cleaning them up with a smile so that no one else has to deal with his bullshit.
She could go west, toward the residential district – but there was probably no way Leonora was there. As far as Porom knew, she didn't have any friends that lived in town that she could bunk with. She could go south – the village gates beckoned to her from there, although, again, it seemed an unlikely choice. Leonora hadn't brought along her staff or anything else she could possibly defend herself with if she were attacked by a monster. Although their numbers had gradually dwindled once the crystals that had been stolen from their world were restored, it was still well-known enough that leaving the village unarmed was a risky endeavor. Even with her skill in both black and white magic, Porom still didn't think Leonora would take such a risk where the weather would only put her at a greater disadvantage in battle. Plus, there was nowhere for her to go outside Mysidia's bounds – eventually, she would either meet ocean or Mount Ordeals, and that was a place no living being ever approached unless they wanted the "living" part to no longer be applicable.
So that leaves the east – the market district. Porom turned left, keeping her eyes peeled as she tried to peer into the water-logged windows of every pub or store she came across that still had not pulled down any shades or drawn curtains. Most of them appeared to be packed with villagers who had likely gotten caught in the storm or were using the storm as an excuse to not go home and to drink another round (or five) – she would never be able to actually see Leonora unless she was crammed against one of the windows. As she neared the end of the street, Porom lifted her gaze toward the second-biggest structure in the village (the Tower of Prayer of course being the first), which was the aptly-named Mysidian Inn. Porom knew that beside the availability of beds, the upper level of the inn also boasted a bar with a limited food offering that always made do when one wanted an inexpensive, but filling snack. Her stomach gave an involuntary growl, and Porom clutched her hand over her abdomen out of habit to muffle the sound, even though no one was there, and one could not possibly hear anything over the dreadful roar of the wind anyway.
It won't hurt to start here.
The door nearly ripped off its hinges as she gave it a tug, another blast of wind and rain plowing through and tearing her hood back from her head, giving her face a thorough round of soaking. Letting out a small sigh, Porom backed into the inn, pulling the door shut behind her with both hands and pushing her drenched bangs out of her face before turning to the innkeeper, who was shooting her an odd look. The older man wasn't anyone Porom recognized, although she knew the family that owned this place frequently cycled in and out of Mysidia to other nearby villages and always seemed to pick up new wives, husbands or children to help run the joint when they made their return.
"Hello," Porom began as she slid up to the counter, her feet making obnoxious squeaking noises as they squished into her sandals, but the man held up one finger, cutting her off.
"What is with the parade of you troublesome girls tonight? Just 'cause there is a storm doesn't mean you can stay here for free. Unless you have money for a drink or a bed, you'll have to wait things out elsewhere."
"Excuse me?" Porom huffed, her face blossoming in a sea of red. "I happen to be looking for someone. About a head shorter than me, blonde, blue dress? Around my age?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know exactly who you're talking about," the innkeeper grumbled. "I told her the same thing I just told you. She didn't have any money, so she left. I'm not running a charity here."
Porom sucked in her cheeks, clenching her fists to her side. It made her extremely uncomfortable to hold her authority as one of Mysidia's leaders over anyone's head unless the situation was dire – she wasn't a Queen, or a Princess, or even a Lady, if you were using the proper definition and not just going by what everyone deemed to call her out of what they thought was respect. Even Palom, with as self-important as he was, typically declined to pull the "Do you know who I am?" card, at least locally – he usually saved it for his journeys overseas, where he had much greater mysticism surrounding his name and people weren't quite as aware of his more…disagreeable history.
But a tiny voice inside of her was screaming to the heavens about the injustice that this bastard had just committed: Turning a lost, foreign, heartbroken girl out to the streets because she had the audacity to not have one gil on her that she could have easily repaid him later, had he taken a moment to ask her who she was. It was…what had Leonora told Palom in the drawing room before…?
Ah, yes. Unacceptable.
"You may not be running a charity, sir, but it's in Mysidia's village charter – Section X, Article XXVI, if memory serves – that any business establishment operating under permission obtained from the village elder provides emergency shelter in the event of a catastrophe, natural disaster or act of war to both villagers and visitors to Mysidia at the time of need. It's also known as the "Love Thy Neighbor" amendment, passed seventeen years and three months prior, spurred by the Baronian Massacre at the Tower of Prayer when the Crystal of Water was stolen."
He stared at Porom, dumbfounded, his jaw laid out on the counter. In turn, she narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.
"And Section X, Article XXVII gives full rights to the village elder, head or statesman to declare if such an event meets any of the above qualification. And I…" she glanced out the window, where she was met with a swirling blur of gray shadows, "…Am leaning toward natural disaster, myself. Maybe a monsoon? I'll have to confer with my brother, but…"
"Ah…um…Lady Porom…I didn't realize it was you," the innkeeper wheezed, shaking his head slowly. "Hard to recognize you with the reduced light, and such…"
"I'm sure," Porom said dryly. "I can hardly keep track of all the girls around here with pink hair myself. We're a plague on this village, you know."
"I have a complete and thorough understanding of the law, Lady Porom," the innkeeper flushed, his wiry beard practically glowing red to match his face. "Thanks to you, of course. If…if you should find your friend…please advise her that she is more than welcome here."
"Yeah, no thanks," Porom snapped, spinning on her heel and stomping out as she yelled over her shoulder, loud enough for the entirety of the clientele gathered around the bar upstairs to hear. "But don't let me catch you ever treating someone – a lady or otherwise – like that again! I have eyes everywhere…so it won't just be me you're watching out for. If I were you, I would be on my best behavior at all times…just in case."
"Understood, Lady Porom," he squeaked, and she shoved her way against the door through another gust of wind, stumbling back into the storm.
Damn, Porom frowned, not bothering with her hood any longer since she was officially soaked to the bone now. She couldn't have gone far. I'll just check one place at a time and hope that I spot her. She lowered her head, tugging her cloak tighter over the front of her now mud-splattered white dress and staring at the rising puddle she had inadvertently stepped into, officially removing any pretense that her shoes were now good for anything. She felt a strange ache in her chest, like she had been running for too long and had forgotten how to breathe. Leonora…why did you run from me…?
"…Porom? I-is that you…?"
Porom's head snapped up at the sound of the whisper that had carried over the wind, and her eyes darted to the narrow alley that was situated between the lodging side of the inn and the building next door, which was a darkened jewelry shop that had closed for the day. A half-tattered awning that was cracking against the wind was hanging over one of the windows of the inn, a pile of misshapen crates and bucket of soaked sand and ash indicating it was a place patrons could light their pipes if need be – indoor smoking was banned village-wide per Section V, Article II.
And sitting on one of the sagging crates, her eyes bloodshot and her drenched hair and clothes clinging to every inch of her like a second skin, was Leonora. It amazed Porom that even in her ragged state, Leonora still carried herself with the same regal fierceness she had thrown Palom's way before fleeing – her spine was ramrod straight and her legs crossed at the ankles, her hands folded in a most divine manner in her lap as if she were about to lead a session of prayer. Even her ponytail, held together by drooping amethyst-studded clips and by what at this point could only be the mercy of the gods, was elegantly draped down the length of her spine in a way that emphasized the pearly sheen of the sloped curve of her jaw.
"Leonora…" Porom shook her head, that queer tugging feeling returning in her gut as she gingerly took a few steps forward – even though Leonora had called out to her, she was suddenly terrified that she would bolt again if she didn't proceed with caution. "…Are you OK? I was looking everywhere for you."
"I'm sorry," Leonora sniffled, lowering her head. "I saw you walk by to go into the inn, and I called out, but you must not have heard me. I was hoping you'd come back out again...I was afraid to go back inside after that man yelled at me."
"He won't do that anymore," Porom smiled, finally feeling confident that Leonora was going to stay put and crossing over into the alley. "I let him have it."
"…I would have liked to see that," Leonora chuckled, another tear sliding down her cheek even as she laughed. "It's a very rare state to see you mad."
"I could say the same for you," Porom said, plopping down in the empty spot next to Leonora on the crate. As she felt the prickly wood bow slightly under her weight, she was overcome with a delightful warmth that seemed to tingle all the way from the tips of her toes to the part of her hair – and all of it seemed to be radiating off of the girl next to her. "I'm sorry…I should have gotten madder at Palom, too. What he did was…"
"…Don't worry about it," Leonora interrupted, staring down at her lap. "You came for me…and that's all that matters."
"Um…" Porom could feel the heat start to rise in her cheeks as she leaned in closer. Even sitting next to her, she could barely hear Leonora's strained whisper over the raging wind. "…He should still apologize for…"
"…It was a misunderstanding," Leonora said softly, "I wasn't spying on him. I…" her nose wrinkled a bit, and Porom could tell she was having trouble finding her words – Leonora always wrinkled her nose when she was confused about something – and the slightly upturned tip would wiggle like a bouncing bunny tail that Porom had always thought was so adorable. "…I have a friend…someone I used to attend Epopt lessons with, before she dropped out…who worked there. At the pub, I mean."
"Oh, so you went to visit your friend?" Porom asked, and Leonora gave a half-shrug.
"I went to her to ask for a favor. I thought…um…if Palom wanted to see girls like that…" she began to blush furiously, cupping her hands over her cheeks. "…I can't say this to Palom's twin sister."
"You can tell me anything," Porom blinked, her voice cracking as she felt her heart clench – she suddenly realized that the thought of Leonora being too afraid to say something to her made her unbearably sad. Leonora seemed to take this into consideration for a few beats, her eyes finally flicking up to meet Porom's gaze as she lowered her hands from her face.
"…I t-thought if my friend let me borrow one of her work outfits…I could, erm, surprise Palom when he came b-back," Leonora choked. "I wanted to s-show him that…I can be…whatever he needs me to be. That I can b-be…fun. Isn't that…stupid? But I saw him when the hostess was leading me back to her…and…I panicked."
The twisting in Porom's chest grew with such a surprising intensity that she nearly fell over. Smacking her hand down on the crate to keep her balance, she made Leonora wince with the sudden crack of noise.
"Leonora…it's not stupid at all. Far from it. It's…" Porom bit her lip. She had no idea what she was supposed to say next, so instead, she blurted out what she wanted to say. "…It's sexy, and romantic, and…um…if someone had done that for me, I would…" the tugging was stronger now – and it was melting down into her hips, filling her with that delicious ache she got whenever she thought about her secret dreams. But now, she wasn't thinking about them at all – the ache was pulsing inside of her from imagining Leonora in one of those skimpy little outfits, staring up at Porom with a need to be loved so palpable that she could taste it on her lips as she breathed in the air between them. Porom would trail a finger down the curve of her shoulder, inserting it under one of the straps of Leonora's bra…and then…
"…I would make it so that they never doubted they were mine."
"…You would?" Leonora blinked, rainwater from her eyelashes splashing over her cheeks. Porom nodded, daring herself to lean in just a hair closer. She watched as another streak of tears fell from Leonora's eyes, and felt the sudden urge to lick them off her face.
I don't understand what's happening to me, Porom thought, the flutter of her pulse so wild that she was shocked the crate wasn't vibrating beneath them. But my body…oh gods, it knows exactly what I need…
And as for my heart…
"…I would," Porom breathed.
And with that, she closed the space between them, cupping Leonora's face in her hands as she pressed her mouth to hers, her tongue gingerly lapping at the mix of rainwater and tears before probing deeper between Leonora's lips.
Her mouth was the sweetest thing Porom had ever tasted – she could pick up the flowery notes of the clover honey Leonora always used with her tea, a special variety that she imported from the Troian region that she said reminded her of innocent days before the first War of the Crystals. As Porom slowly traced her palm over Leonora's cheek, cold and smooth as porcelain, she twisted a lock of corn silk hair around her finger, inhaling softly. The cloying note of citrus danced in the air, tickling Porom's nose and igniting her core.
This scent…it's just like in my dreams…Leonora…could it have been…?
Porom hadn't realized she had shut her eyes until she felt the guarded caress of the tip of Leonora's tongue running over hers, her eyes snapping open as she gazed down at the ex-Epopt, fireworks going off in her chest. She was sinking into Porom's embrace, her eyes closed and her hands clenched half-way down her thighs, like she didn't know what to possibly do with them. Porom wanted to guide those beautiful ivory digits to one of the seemingly millions of pulsating places on her body, but she also didn't want to release Leonora's face for even a second to do so.
Her mouth fits perfectly against mine, Porom thought as a spasm ricocheted through her hips. She uttered a moan against Leonora's lips in response to her body's torture, gently sucking her tongue deeper into her mouth. How can something like that even be possible?
A few frenzied heartbeats later, Porom finally had to come up for air, pulling away from Leonora and swallowing nervously as she tried to pick up on any kind of reaction. The spell of their kiss was broken – gone was the soft, warm wonderland she had fallen into through the passage of Leonora's lips, replaced by the screaming winds that were now rushing through the alleyway and whipping Porom's cloak about so savagely that she might have blown away if she wasn't weighed down by gallons of rain. After what seemed like forever, Leonora finally opened her eyes, the beginning tinges of a blush erupting over the bridge of her nose and her cheeks as she sat back, pressing her fingers to her lips. She wasn't smiling, but something had ignited in the depths of her gray-green eyes that Porom had never seen before – and she couldn't tell in the shadows of the storm assaulting them if it was the same pure ecstasy she felt…or utter despair.
What have I done…? Porom gulped, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest the longer Leonora stared up at her. This is Leonora…the girl Palom likes…the girl that loves my brother! The girl who loves him enough to… She shivered, biting her lip as Leonora's tearful confession played through her mind.
"I wanted to s-show him that…I can be…whatever he needs me to be."
"W-we should go back," Leonora suddenly mumbled, turning away. "We'll catch our deaths out here."
"Um…right," Porom nodded, her legs shaking uncontrollably she allowed Leonora to get up first. The ex-Epopt hauled herself off of the crate, her soaked dress unleashing an awkward squelch as it peeled away from the wood. She glanced back at Porom, her eyes dull crystalline fragments, before turning away and silently starting down the alley.
Damn, damn, damn!
Porom scrambled up after her, blinking away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she tried to keep one foot moving in front of the other.
If anyone at the tower asked, she would just say it was the rain.
To be continued in 2: To Bud