A post-episode 12 canon continuation/look into Finé and Izetta's lives.
In which In which there is fluff and Bianca and Lotte (and p much her entire family too) are the real MVPs. I also don't remember their naming Lotte's sister, so I threw one in. Someone come correct me if I've missed it. Enjoy!
Finé always has had a bit of a reputation for wildness, for being a bit too open. She knows everything about her has always come off with an intensity that cows those around her. But it's shocking when she realizes it's transitioned into an overall reputation for mysteriousness as she grew into adulthood. The first time a fellow dignitary criticizes her for being quiet and avoidant, she laughs in his face. At least it throws him off a little and he huffs and stalks off. But she's taken aback all the same. She's always been scolded for talking too much, for letting her emotions and her opinions flow like water. Being criticized for withholding seems ludicrous, and she brushes it off as an isolated incident.
But the allegations continue the older she gets, even from people who are normally fairly complimentary of her, from allies. They may not say it to her directly, of course, but they forget that if they're in Eylstadt, she will hear it one way or another. Lotte, in particular, loves gossip more than almost anything else, especially if it has anything to do with the Archduchess. Finé thinks she likes being able to report it to her, keep her aware of the ripples of her social presence.
"Lord Redford was put off indeed, he couldn't say enough about how strange he thought you are, Miss-" she draws herself up to full height, which isn't very much, turning up her nose in a terribly inaccurate and equally funny impression of the Britannian ambassador. "It was bad enough when she'd run all about, getting tangled up in battles and barging into confidential meetings. But being deliberately cryptic is another!"
"Don't pay it any mind, Lotte," she waves her off. "But I do wonder what he means by deliberately cryptic."
"He was probably just grumpy he couldn't get a hold of you right then, Miss. He came in in the early evening and, well, you know how particular he is. I think he wanted to have tea or walk around the gardens or somesuch. You know how talkative he is and how Britannians are all about politeness and ceremony-"
"I think that's most politicians, Lotte, not just Britannians."
"Well in any case, I had to tell him you would be there for your meeting this morning, but that you had confidential business to attend to."
"Well then what's the problem with him?" Finé asks, wishing she weren't so annoyed. Really, it's just a huffy ambassador, she's dealt with worse. But it's off-putting. "I've shown up for everything important, made a show of taking him to see those rare rosebushes in the garden he's so passionate about, even told him I'd have seeds sent back with him so he can try his hand at raising them. I've had any little thing he wants imported-"
"I think he's put off the he hasn't, what's the word-" Bianca interjects from her post at the corner of the room, steady and understated. "Happened across you on the grounds. It may have been a bit too planned, if you understand."
Finé nods but doesn't choose to discuss it any further. She supposes she'll just have to get used to a reputation for mystery, then. It's surely better than the one she had for being unbalanced for just a little bit.
That one didn't last very long. It was mostly amongst the people of Eylstadt, years ago. She refused to see any foreign dignitaries during that time, although she's sure they may have thought her a bit unbalanced too then.
She doesn't miss that reputation. The way Bianca and Lotte froze every time she walked in a room. Lotte's knitted eyebrows and wavering voice trying to wake her up when she'd slept in again, late into the afternoon, and it felt like she'd surely never be able to leave her room and face even other rooms in the palace. The same look when she hadn't slept at all and she found her pacing her room at four, five, six o'clock in the morning.
That sluggishness had been replaced by a desperation and anger not long after that, one that made Lotte jump when she spoke and made Bianca square her shoulders. She'd immediately regret it after, stuttering apologies. Her days were endless apologies to Lotte and Bianca, who were often the only two people she saw for days at a time.
She asked so much of them all, and they had done it with very little question. She remembers so vividly Bianca patiently telling her that she would do what she asked, although she didn't feel the pursuit would be fruitful. Her refusing to flinch when Finé slammed a fist down on the desk and stubbornly told her to keep looking.
She'd sent them all the way to the northwest coasts of the continent. Trying to find witnesses that had seen her in her final moments. Trying to pinpoint where she would've fallen. Bianca insisted that they could spend the next ten years trying to find anything and coming up empty, that there might not be anything to find, trying not to let her voice crack.
Lotte started crying, small and huddled on the edge of the room, when one day during Bianca's briefing, Finé finally had a breakdown the likes of which she hadn't had since the last day she saw her. She was scolding Bianca for reminding her that the mission was likely pointless. Her tirade lost steam halfway through and one of the words dipped into a sob. She couldn't recover. She couldn't breathe anymore and she couldn't stand anymore. When Bianca knelt next to her on the floor, Lotte couldn't take it anymore and ran out of the room.
She told Bianca she just wanted to bury her next to Father and after that she wasn't capable of words for an entire day. Bianca didn't ever really cry per se, but she was still capable of tears, and they ran freely then. She clenched her jaw, cheeks red and eyes streaming.
Bianca never argued with her about it again after that. She just quietly gave Finé updates on the search and left it at that.
It was scarcely a week after that that Bianca burst into her room early in the morning with no warning, door rebounding against the wall, knocking a centuries-old vase to the floor with no second thoughts.
"Archduchess, we have to leave! Now!" she'd shouted and Finé bolted out of bed.
She'd learned long before not to ask questions when Bianca barked like that. Possibilities whirled in Finé's mind. The war was still happening, after all. Was Eylstadt in danger again? What would they do if that was true? They had no line of defence anymore. How insulting it would be for the Germanians to attack again. They were weakened already, probably a few short months from defeat at the hands of the United States of Atlanta and the Volga Federation. And didn't they have any respect? Could they not let her grieve in peace?
She assumed they were taking her somewhere to hide when they reached a foggy coast on the other side of the channel from Britannia. This was United States of Atlanta controlled territory now. Much safer than Eylstadt if it came under attack.
The landed and Finé, still sleepy, picked her way down the chilly and slippery metal steps of a small plane. Finé knew well that the closer one got to Britannia, the foggier and more sunless it got. Such a chilly and damp country, beautiful in its way the way every country is.
Bianca stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face her, expression hard. She took a deep breath and Finé knew she was about to tell her something horrible. Bianca always needed a moment of clarity before breaking bad news.
"Archduchess, I'm about to show you something, but I need you to remain calm. Do you understand?"
"I understand," she nodded sharply, confident she could keep that promise. After she'd lost her, there was almost nothing that could shake her anymore.
Two members of her own guard appeared out of the mist, carrying a form between them. Then it all clicked. The location. The red clothing. The way the feet dangled, limp. Finé couldn't look anymore. So long she'd wanted to find her, but she didn't want to see her like this. She didn't want to remember her like this.
Bianca clenched her hand tighter around her upper arm, as if steeling herself for another breakdown.
One of the guards called her name. Once, twice, three times. Finé looked up after they called her enough, but now the forms were more focused, close enough that the fog didn't block them anymore.
Everything stopped and went silent in her ears when she realized it wasn't the guards calling for her.
Time slammed back into motion and Finé screamed then, forceful enough to make even Bianca jump. She lunged forward and Bianca yanked her back. She'd been prepared for this.
"Archduchess! She's weak, you must be careful, do you understand?"
"Yes, yes, of course-" Finé told her, and they both knew it wasn't true because she was half sobbing and half shouting and struggling with all of her might against Bianca's grip. Bianca shook her head, resigned, and released her.
Finé had never run so fast in her life. She couldn't even see where she was going through the blur in her vision.
When she finally got her arms around Izetta, she lost her balance and tipped backwards, wrenching her out of their arms and falling with a thick thud on her back on wet sand. Izetta's weight knocked the wind out of her and her sobbing continued silently. She couldn't breathe between the tears and the weight of her and she didn't care.
Izetta was in no better shape, although she had breath enough to say her name once.
Bianca had to gently lift Izetta off of her after a moment, advising the Archduchess that she would pass out if she didn't breathe more evenly. It became apparent, though, that separating them completely wouldn't work either as Finé vibrated, shaking from fatigue and adrenaline and sobbing, too nervous with the effort of trying to keep herself from Izetta.
The royal guard ushered them all back into the plane. They had to lie Izetta down, hurriedly dragging out sleeping mats. Bianca had been the one to grab the second and roll it out next to Izetta before disappearing into the cockpit, respectfully drawing a curtain to separate them.
Finé could barely speak at first, could only hold her and try with all of her might to wrap her mind around the fact that she was here. Warm and breathing and in her arms.
"I thought you were dead," she choked and tightened her arms around her.
"So did I. Even after I woke up. I didn't think anyone would find me. I didn't mind, mostly. I could be happy with it as long as you could be alive and happy."
"There's no such thing for me without you."
Izetta buried her head under Finé's chin and spoke softly against the skin of her breastbone.
"I was glad to die if that's what needed to happen. But I wanted to see you again. Is it selfish of me to say I hoped you'd find me anyway?"
"Izetta, you've never done anything selfish in your life."
Izetta sighed and they both fell asleep, too exhausted and too at peace to keep their eyes open any longer.
Finé thought then that she'd never raise her voice at Bianca or any of her royal guard again in her life. She was blissful in the days that followed.
They found out that Izetta had been taken in by an old woman on the coast shortly after she fell, so isolated on the cold and rainy beach she blessedly didn't know who Izetta was.
"I wouldn't have survived half as long without her," Izetta smiled, positive to a fault as she was.
"It also may not have taken us as long to find you, but it's true she kept you alive," Bianca nodded.
Finé didn't realize how little she'd smiled in the weeks they'd been separated until she could smile again. It felt foreign on her cheeks, but she couldn't stop.
She could barely govern in those days, too, too wrapped up in Izetta to keep up with most obligations.
She caused untold trouble for the staff and the guard, she knew. She all but moved into Izetta's room, leaving her own bed in another wing untouched for weeks. Bianca advised her not venture outside certain wings of the palace with Izetta. She couldn't be seen. Finé largely took heed of her warnings, aware of the danger they could be in if Izetta were spotted. But there were a few times, when she knew no one important would be at the palace, she'd take Izetta out into the gardens, or steal away to Kirsch Baum and come back with a stack of pies, defiantly eating out on one of the lavish balconies with Izetta.
Then the war came to a turning point. The Volga Federation had occupied Neu Berlin. With Germania's defeat imminent, an ambassador from the United States of Atlanta came to discuss terms of a treaty with Germania.
All was normal until news came in the middle of the night that the Emperor of Germania was dead and the guards came rushing through the hallways, trying to stop a flustered ambassador from bursting into the room to wake Finé without making it look suspicious. Finé woke up to Bianca shutting the door behind her with a soft snap and gathering Izetta, still half-asleep, out of the bed, diving into the closet with her just moments before the rest of the guard came in with the panicked ambassador.
Thankfully, he never mentioned anything about the way this room didn't look like the Archduchess' quarters or the wheelchair sitting empty in the corner.
Bianca came to her the next morning, immediately following her meeting with said dignitary, trying to head her off before she ran off to Izetta.
"Izetta can't stay in the palace," Bianca told her, already tensing her shoulders for the aftermath. She was right to do it. Finé flew into a tantrum so loud and so legendarily violent that Bianca had to duck out and order Lotte to distract any foreign diplomats in the vicinity lest they hear her and find out about Izetta.
"It's too dangerous for her, Archduchess!" she volleyed back, restraining the full strength of her temper. " No one is supposed to know about her and if a slip-up like last night happens again, her life could be at stake. No one wants to lose her again, least of all you."
Finé had had to agree with her and swallow her rage. She was being childish, she knew. Bianca was right. But there was a part of her too terrified at the prospect of not seeing her. It would be too like those days she was missing. Those days that Finé thought she had died and she would be lost to cold shores forever.
How would she be able to remember that she was alive and whole if she never saw her again?
Izetta took the news bravely like always.
"I know you have to look out for so many people, Finé. I don't mind."
Finé knew by the shine in her eyes it wasn't true.
They both cried one morning, a few weeks before Izetta was supposed to leave. They'd been told the evening prior that everything was almost settled and she would be able to leave in just shy of a month's time. Lotte stumbled upon both of them, huddled in the bed far later than they were supposed to be.
"Archduchess! You have to get up, you'll be late! You too, Lady Izetta, it's too late to be asleep-" she stopped short when she saw the red-rimmed eyes and swollen lips.
"What in the world is the matter?!" she asked, incredulous.
"Izetta leaves soon, Lotte," Finé sighs, a bit aggravated.
Lotte waved her hand at them, the rag in her grip whipping around at the same time, and she laughed.
"Well, Lady Izetta has to leave, yes. But no one said you couldn't go with her, Miss. You're the Archduchess, you can do whatever you want!"
"Lotte, I can't leave Landsbruck, I would have to be here so much of the time. And how would I leave here without anyone noticing?"
"In time, Miss. It'll all pan out."
At the time, Finé was terribly annoyed at that answer. It didn't address anything, too trite to be of use to her.
She kept her tears at bay the night they smuggled Izetta out of Landsbruck, to move into a little cottage Finé had built in the wilderness. She told Izetta she could have it anywhere she wanted so long as the guard deemed the location safe enough. Izetta wanted it where she fell in love with her, she told her.
"It'll be like you're there all the time that way," she smiled, only a little of the hurt of having to leave creeping into a wan smile.
She waited until Lotte's older sister, Nadine, came to collect her, leaving with two members of the guard to ensure she got there safely and her aging corgi, Dorothée, to keep her company.
As soon as the door shut behind her, Finé's vision started to blur and she had to disappear. She didn't go back to her own room. She hid in Izetta's room where the pillow still smelled like her and hugged it to her, trying to ward off the devastating cool of the sheets on the other side.
It wasn't two hours before she was donning a coat to brave the brisk fall wind, hoping against hope she could slip out of the palace without any of the guard noticing. She would come back before morning, she just wanted to make sure Izetta settled in alright.
As soon as she opened the door, Bianca was right behind it, smirking.
"Two hours? You made me lose a bet, you know. I wagered it'd take a half hour at most, I owe Lotte now."
Something was off. Bianca was joking.
"What is going on, Bianca? I don't have the strength for jokes."
"If you're going to sneak out, you should really tell us. We have a better way. A lot warmer too," she nodded at the coat.
"I know all of the passages out of here, too, Bianca. There's not one anywhere near that direction."
"Oh?" Bianca turned on her heel and strode off, leaving Finé to scramble after her.
She led her around the back of the palace to a nondescript stone tile on one of the long garden paths in a seldom-visited corner of the grounds.
This wasn't one she knew. As soon as Bianca hefted the tile away, Finé recognized the pristine look of something newly constructed.
"Bianca. You did this?"
"Actually, no. This was Lotte's idea. She's a crafty one. She remembered what you said about being able to leave Landsbruck unseen and came running to me about it. She wouldn't leave us alone until we agreed to have it built. I was personally of the opinion that it was risky. But she gave me a lecture about how much this meant to you, and how much Lady Izetta has already sacrificed. She gave us hell, really, it was almost impossible to deny her."
Bianca went rigid when Finé threw her arms around her, reminding herself to do the same to Lotte in the morning.
"Thank you. You've done more than I deserve."
Bianca wouldn't answer. She just went bright red and stammered "You'd better get started. It'll take you over an hour. You'll know where to go once you get out of the tunnel."
True to Bianca's word, it took quite some time, more than an hour, to traverse the long tunnel. When she finally got to the door at the end and flung it upwards, she was in the middle of the forest with nothing in sight, not even on a trail of any kind. When she closed the door it was well-disguised as a pile of brush.
But she knew exactly where she was. She could almost see it, the same way she did as a child. A long, meandering way into thick woods, with no path in sight. Dorothée running ahead of her, then barely more than a puppy. Little twinkling lights curling around the trees.
The sight of Izetta, barely visible through the window, was just as magical as the first time Finé saw her singing, poised above the little pond and swaying on her broom.
Dorothée started barking from inside, picking up on the sound of Finé's footstops that Izetta hasn't heard yet. Nadine poked her head out of the door and smiled warmly.
"Oh, I'm glad you're finally here. She won't stop trying to help me chop vegetables for dinner."
"Izetta, we've told you before you don't need to do that," Finé told her as she walked into the cottage to find her at the table, knife in hand and a pile of clumsily cut carrots and potatoes. Izetta dropped the knife immediately and whirled herself away from the table.
"Finé! What are you doing here?" and the way her eyes welled up when she grinned wrenched at Finé.
"Turns out the entire palace has been conspiring against me. They think I was going to sneak out to see you or something. And they made it easier for me. Usually they lecture me."
Izetta couldn't stop grinning all night and she kept close to Finé. Nadine confirmed that they were both alright before retiring to a tiny guesthouse on the corner of the property. She hadn't ordered that to be built. Must be something the staff decided to do on their own. Finé almost blushed at the implication, but didn't dwell on it for long. Because suddenly it was silent in the house, just the two of them, the feeling that they'd been waiting to have all of this taken away again strangely absent.
Finé could never trust even the hope that she and Izetta could be together happily since she found her huddled at the middle of an angry rabble and a pitchfork pierced the fabric of her dress.
But at that moment, she couldn't think of anything that might happen to them. She remembers the feeling, almost too terrified to be happy about it, to imagine a future.
"What are you thinking about?" Izetta murmured, resting her head gently on Finé's shoulder.
"About what we do now."
"What do you mean?"
"It looks like everything might be okay. We're not really used to that, are we?"
Izetta nodded, examining the floor and playing with the the fringe of a blanket she liked to keep with her, draped across her lap.
"I know. I didn't want to be selfish. But I didn't want to leave you tonight. And I know that you won't be able to come very often-"
Finé couldn't bear to watch it. Izetta tried to swallow the way her voice was going shaky, the way an errant tear did actually spill and she acted as if it wasn't there.
"What makes you say that?"
"Well you have work to do, and it's such a long way."
"I don't care if it was in Britannia. I'd make them fly me there every night, even if I only got an hour with you," Finé stared at her, resolute. "Obviously, there will be times I'm out of the country. Or there will be times it's an emergency and I can't. But if you think I'm not going to be here every second I have-"
Izetta never let her finish. She kissed her so desperately and Finé could feel the little tear-streaks on her face.
Three years, she thinks. It's been three years to date since Izetta left Landsbruck as Lotte prattles on about Lord Redford. Finé listens patiently. It's the least she can do, really. The staff have to make up so many stories to justify her intermittent appearance in the palace. Why she isn't often found roaming the halls, like one would expect to find someone milling about the place they're supposed to live. Why the room that is supposed to be the Archduchess' doesn't look like it's even been opened in years. Why a much smaller bedroom in another wing has housekeepers in and out of it much more often, although a bit infrequently to be normal still.
She can understand her reputation for mystery, really, and she supposes it grants her some sort of leverage at the very least. One ambassador even left a few months ago with the impression that the palace at Landsbruck is haunted. He really was just unfortunate enough to glimpse her slipping into the palace early in the morning in quite a long cloak to hide her.
There is endless evasion of marriage proposals. She's sure once she hits forty, she'll be thought a mad spinster and wonders at the stories Bianca and Lotte will have to tell people then. She gives all sorts of dismissals, anything from how she's focused on her duties at the moment, how she's not sure the match would be the best for the state. If she's feeling irritated on a particular day and her potential suitor is rude enough as far as she's concerned, she'll tell them off a little.
Only a small handful of the staff at Landsbruck are even aware. She is coming home from a trip to Britannia one evening, tired and particularly looking forward to the glow through the window of the small cottage, the smell of Izetta's hair, the warmth of her skin, and the soft weight of Dorothée sleeping on top of the blanket at their feet. She directs the driver, telling him to take her home and nearly mentioning a place other than the palace.
A journalist from the Volga Federation gossiping with another from Germania about spotting her in the garden in the morning.
"Oh, the two journalists saw you on the grounds this morning, Miss, you should've heard them," Lotte begins pantomiming as she's wont to do. "'Isn't she strange? I saw her in the gardens at five in the morning,'" Lotte giggles. "They do think you odd, Miss."
Finé shrugs.
"They can think whatever they want as long as I get to see Izetta."
"Oh! It's such a romantic thought, Miss," Lotte squeals in glee.
They handle it all in stride as well as possible. A dignitary feeling quite rebuffed that the Captain of the guard stopped him from taking a midnight stroll in the gardens, fixing him with a steely stare and a forceful suggestion that he return to his room.
Lord Redford asking one day, out of the blue. "By the way, Archduchess. I haven't seen your little dog for quite some time. What was her name? Dorothée? She was always here, is she no longer with you?"
"Oh yes, it's been quite some time, actually."
"Terrible, really. I could bring you a lovely little puppy next time. The Queen is fond of them, you know. They're of the best pedigree, beautiful dogs."
"Thank you, that's generous, but I could never replace Dorothée," she tells him mildly thinking of the bone Lotte has already packed in her bag to give to Dorothée that evening.
One morning, Finé shows up with a mark on her neck that's a bit more obvious than she realized. Bianca looks ready to either pass out or quit on the spot.
"Archduchess, this will not do, you are supposed to look well on your way to becoming an old maid!" Bianca hisses as Lotte scrambles around for makeup.
"The Prime Minister is coming in five minutes!" Lotte squeaks.
"Oh, we'll just put a scarf around it."
"That's far more obvious. Just wear something with a high collar," Bianca grumps.
"But it's summer. That's a bit odd too."
Lotte masterfully hides it with makeup in time.
But when Finé walks through the dense woods and begins to hear the quiet lap of pond water, and can make out the light through the window of the cottage, it's worth every minute of awkwardness and evasion. She crosses the threshold to find Izetta, smiling and whole, and thinks every day of how she never expected to have this. She gets to hear about what Izetta has been doing. She learns things about her she'd never have gotten to know during a war.
Izetta is a voracious reader. Sometimes she'll ask Finé to go back over passages she loves and read them to her. Sometimes she'll read them out loud to Finé. Izetta is often a bit quiet and her fascination with words is interesting for someone who isn't always forthcoming with them herself. Finé comes more often than not with three and four books at a time in her bag for her, combing the libraries of Landsbruck every chance she gets for something she'll like.
She tells Izetta maybe one day she should write one herself. She goes as red as her hair and stammers, but Finé can see the way her eyes light up and is glad she planted the seed in her mind anyway.
Izetta spoils Dorothée endlessly. If she's not reading, she's throwing Dorothée's ball outside, often into the pond. The dog loves water. Izetta lets her put all kinds of wet and muddy pawprints on her shoes and on the fringes of her blanket if she's using it that day. She feeds her table scraps and Nadine keeps up a constant litany of telling her not to. She tells Finé how she always wanted pets as a child and couldn't keep them, moving around like she did. She tried a few times, keeping mice or little potato bugs until her grandmother found out and made her let them go. Finé wonders if next time Lord Redford is here she could ask for one of those puppies after all.
Nadine has no choice but to let Izetta help her with keeping up the household. She won't let Nadine touch a meal by herself. She learns to sew up small things, like re-attaching buttons and closing up little tears. According to Nadine, she doesn't have much of a talent for it, although Finé can't tell herself. She couldn't sew if she tried either.
The times Finé has to be away for long stretches a time are the hardest. These are the times it feels as if maybe she died after all. Like she never existed. The last time Finé went months without hearing her voice, seeing her face were the worst of her life. It's so difficult to keep that dread at bay, to remember that she's waiting for Finé back in Eylstadt. She keeps an old photo of them, never a recent one, with her at all times to remind her.
It's high summer and she's returning from over a month away. She told her staff long in advance that the entire week after she got home, she would not see anyone unless it was absolutely urgent. She would be away from the palace, taking a sabbatical of sorts. It's a rare sight, the sunlight glowing, filtering through the canopy in patches, turning the leaves a bright emerald. She's almost always coming in at night.
Dorothée is the first to greet her. Nadine's eyes are guarded when she looks outside until she realizes who it is. They didn't expect her for a few days yet, and certainly not this early. She brings Izetta outside and she comments on the blue of Finé's dress and kisses her, long and soft. Nadine excuses herself, but neither of them miss the sigh and wide grin.
Finé brings out a treasure trove of things she's brought back. Odd, chewy chocolates from the United States of Atlanta they both decide are terrible and a thick, sweet pie with nuts and sugar on the top they both quite like. Books from Britannia and the Volga Federation, translated into German. A photo of a rambunctious puppy that will be coming with Lord Redford next time he visits, when she's old enough to be away from her mother.
Nadine lets Izetta and Finé finish up dinner on their own that evening, retiring early. They meander outside to the dock and Finé drags a chair from the kitchen outside to sit next to Izetta there.
Izetta sings idly, looking at the stars. She only does this around Finé and it's one of her favorite sounds in the world. She's got a high, delicate voice that spins a little when she sings.
"Mm. I remember when I first found you up there," Finé gestures a little ways above them, over the pond. "Singing like that."
"You scared me," Izetta giggles. "I fell right in."
"I remember. I tried to catch you, but there wasn't anything for it."
"I know you did. I never understood how you weren't scared of me, then. I'm still not sure I do."
"Why would I be scared of anyone that lovely?" Finé asks and Izetta smiles warmly with only a touch of bashfulness. "I think that was part of it. I thought you were beautiful. I think I was already in love with you and didn't know it."
"It didn't take me long after that myself."
It's quiet for a moment and then Izetta sighs and Finé sits up a little. She doesn't always talk, and she seems like she's about to. She wants to make sure she hears it all, hears it clearly.
"I miss flying sometimes. It's really the only thing. Magic never seemed of much use to me beyond that. It wasn't something I was all that attached to. It seemed to cause so much trouble. More than it was worth," she shrugs and stares at the peaks and the stars for another moment. " But flying with you. I miss that. I liked showing you those things. Taking you in the mountains or in the clouds. You always looked so happy there. I wish I could do that again."
Finé stares at her a moment before she laughs and Izetta looks a bit wounded.
"Izetta. I only cared about those trips because you were there."
Izetta smiles and averts her eyes for a moment, still timid sometimes, but less often now.
"I don't see any difference where we are right now. The sky is here," Finé gestures at the stars. "And the mountains. And the clouds. They aren't going anywhere. There's mountains and skies and clouds anywhere. You? You I can't replace."
Izetta's lips are parted just so and and she looks at her with the same kind of love and apprehension she has since they were kids. She looks like she's trying to tell Finé something. Finé's grown used to this look, the one that means Izetta wants to say something but wants to take the time to make it perfect before she does. Finé likes to remind her, in these moments, that Izetta doesn't need to tell her. She tried to sacrifice her own life to save her and her country. Finé already knows how much she loves her. Why in the world she still feels she needs to express it, still feel she owes her something, Finé will never know. It's in these moments Finé likes to remind her that she doesn't need to fidget and stammer and worry what she will think. She already thinks she's the most wonderful person she knows.
Finé gently takes her hand and Izetta tips her head like she's expecting her to kiss her. And Finé pulls her forward into the water with her instead, careful to hold her up just the way Izetta used to do when they flew together
"Finé! What-" Izetta sputters, blinking water out of her eyelashes, gasping at finding herself in the water.
"We fell," Finé shrugs, grinning and mischievous.
"Not this time, you pulled me in," she teases and oh, she looks so like she did the first time Finé saw her. But this time is a little different, especially the Izetta giggles freely and kisses her instead of flinching.
The water is as warm and sweet as Izetta's mouth on hers and the feeling of her smiling as she kisses her. It doesn't take her long to slip Finé's nightdress over her shoulders and Finé wriggles to get the rest of it off before relieving Izetta of her own. Izetta has gotten so much less timid, so much more self-assured. Three years ago, she never would've felt she was allowed to do that. Finé remembers the first time, the stutters and embarrassed giggling on a mountain top not far from here, their timid movement, their constant apologies.
Now, there's none of that, no worrying at all. No embarrassment, no war looming, no sense of urgency or unworthiness of one another. Izetta kisses her, with fingers dancing across her shoulders, her back, her chest. Finé whimpers when she slips her hand between her thighs, and she does the same. She knows now that the way Izetta gasps when she does it is a good thing. She knows exactly what Izetta will say, the way she'll move, how her eyebrows will arch. She knows what she likes, what she doesn't, what thrills her, what makes her feel safe.
Izetta knows the same things about her. She knows she can scarcely handle it when Izetta calls her by name, even now. She knows how to move her hand to make her clap a hand over her own mouth, trying to keep quiet. She knows Finé get a little thrill when she doesn't attempt to do the same herself and makes even a bit of a show of being noisy about it all.
And it's the most wonderful feeling, an intensity that comes with familiarity, with knowing someone better than you know yourself sometimes. Finé and Izetta know how to love one another now. They don't avert their eyes anymore, but stare directly into one another as they move. They laugh so much more now. They talk to one another, tease one another, remind each other they love one another in breathy half-sentences, no longer worried about missteps or awkwardness. Desperate moaning exchanged for a symphony of giggling and sighing and gasped yeses, the sounds mingling with the splash of water.
Izetta gets there first, clinging to Finé with all of her strength and Finé loves how it's almost too tight. It reminds her that Izetta really isn't going anywhere. She cries out Finé's name into her shoulder, loud enough to make her ears ring, and this is another one of her favorite sounds. She always calls her name. Always has.
Izetta told her once that being with her like this was the closest thing to flying she knew. That she's felt this way since their first. And when Izetta laughs, breathy in her ear, when it's clear it's not quite over yet for her, when she moves her hand just so, Finé can't help but agree. She can't take it anymore either and she has to cling to Izetta and kiss her to stop herself from shouting too loudly. It feels almost just like it, if not a bit better. How her stomach drops and every nerve tingles. How both she and Izetta can't stop grinning, how they can't take their eyes off one another as their hearts pound in their ears and they're weightless.
They hold one another in the water for a while, hearts slowing, kisses languid and sweet now rather than quick and breathless. Finé eventually lifts Izetta onto the deck and follows her and they lie there, drying off, staring directly into a starry sky. It's that lovely middle stretch of the summer where even the nights are warm and a little thick. They leave their nightdresses to the depths, too tired and uncaring to search for them in the muddy floor of the pond.
"I'm going to have to explain to Nadine where both of our nightdresses went," Izetta murmurs, smiling, her ear to Finé's chest, wet, red hair sticking to the skin there.
"Say Dorothée ate them," she suggests, arm circling Izetta's head to play with more strands of damp hair.
"I've already done that once."
"Oh, damn, we did, didn't we? Um. I accidentally took both mine and yours back to Landsbruck in the morning! We'll say that."
"Yours usually stays here, but I suppose it's the best we've got. Do you have an early morning tomorrow?"
"I'm supposed to, but I don't care much. The ambassador keeps trying to set me up with his son. Honestly, I don't see how political marriage is even functional anymore, so many countries have elected officials at this point."
"What do you tell them when they ask?" Izetta asks with laughter in her eyes. She hears all the stories, but Finé thinks she likes to hear them because she knows why she turns them down. She likes remembering that she's the reason why. Finé likes reminding her.
"I'd like to tell them I have someone else in mind, but it would stir up trouble. Even if it is true. If that's something you would be open to, of course, I didn't mean to-" Finé stutters a little still, despite their comfort with one another. Izetta just nestles closer and laces her fingers with hers.
"I'd like that, when we get there. Don't worry. We have time."
"Yes," Finé sighs and she smiles when she realizes it's true. "We have time."
Because I evidently can't end a story with these two without sex in the wilderness. Hope you all enjoyed! I'd love it if you'd leave a review to tell me your thoughts and such. Thanks for reading!
~Belmione