Author's Note: Just a little idea I had after finishing H'aanit's story. I may continue this in the future.
"In truth, I think part of me thought that it would be much the same as it was for you, when I finally accomplished my goal." Primrose leaned back against the headrest of her bed. She and H'aanit had stopped at an inn for the night on the journey they'd both promised each other, what felt like a lifetime ago, but couldn't have been more than a few weeks.
"What dost thou mean?" H'aanit looked toward her friend, prompting an annoyed growl from the massive snow leopard she'd been petting. "Freten not, Linde." The cat let out a pur that shook her bed when she resumed petting her soft fur.
"It sounds silly." Primrose pulled the woolen blanket tight to her chest. She felt almost like a child again. She hadn't been one in a very long time.
"Nothing thou wouldst seyen would sound silly."
"H'aanit..." She sighed, staring at her hands. She could still feel the blood staining them. She had no regrets, it had needed doing, but it changed nothing.
"Primrose, thou needst not tell me if though wilt not, but I shall judge thee not, no matter how foolish thou might thinkest thou beest."
Linde growled in agreement.
"Even Linde agreest with me."
She sighed, tossing the blanket away and swinging her legs out of bed to stare at her friend. "Part of me felt that maybe, just like when we slew the Redeye for you, that perhaps, somehow, by killing the crow, that perhaps my father would be back, or at least at peace. Instead, I've learned things I never wanted to know, killed the only man I've ever loved, debased myself in every possible way, and now, when it's all over, it feels like nothing has really changed." Simeon's words still haunted her. He'd insisted that her father had wanted none of this, that he would only want her to find happiness and that she had twisted his memory to suit her vengeance. She knew he was wrong. He had to be. Yet it weighed on her still, adding to the considerable burden she already bore.
H'aanit nodded, staring into the eyes of the snow leopard before she turned to the woman opposite her. This time, though the petting ceased, Linde remained silent. "That is not at all silly. Truly, I hadst thought mine master dead when I founde him petrifiede in that forest. I am sorry that thy father's fate wast not so temporary."
Shaking her head, Primrose stared at the thick goat-skin shoes worn by the huntress. "You've lost your family too. I shouldn't be moaning to you about this."
"I lost mine parents, but not mine family. I was a babe, and knewe them not. Thou hadst to –" she cuts off suddenly, realizing the folly of her actions. She would not force her friend to relive the most horrid day of her life. "We slewen them. Thy father can resteth in peace now he hast beene avenged."
"I just hope you're right." With a heavy sigh, she leaned back against the headboard, her hands folding behind her head. After a moment, an eye opened, as her head turned back toward H'aanit. "Did I hear you say that your master was family? That seems so unlike you. Finally admitting it." Saying that word again, 'master,' still felt so wrong. The way they'd coped with the deaths of their parents had been so different, and yet they'd both had someone they had to call that. Primrose was glad that she'd killed Helgenish first.
"Thine ears art surely mistaken." Her face turning a bright red, she turned from her companion, and could swear that Linde's roar sounded almost like a laugh.
"No, I'm pretty sure that's what you said."
"'Tis all thine dream, Primrose."
"Of course. I don't know what I was thinking." The blanket wrapped tight about her once again, Primrose allowed her eyes to shut. She wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting when she requested this adventure. Maybe she just wasn't ready to be alone again. Nevertheless, she was happy to find that H'aanit's company was still the pleasant distraction she needed.
Unfortunately, not even the steady breathing – and light snoring – of the huntress in the bed next to her was enough to quell the nightmares. She was no stranger to them, they'd been hounding her since she was a child. She had thought that once she had her vengeance, that then she could finally know peace. It had worked for a time, though that time was scarcely over a week.
She awoke in a cold sweat, panting in the still night air. Duskbarrow's crickets still chirped the night away outside the thin window. She'd wanted a place secluded, quiet, and far away from the reaches of any criminal organization, and it was tough to find a smaller village than this one. Eventually, she would return to Noblecourt – she still had much to accomplish there. She just wanted a bit more time first.
"H'aanit?" she called softly in the dark room, not wanting to wake the other woman if she was asleep.
The blankets of the other bed stirred and Linde let out a mewl. "Yes, Primrose?" the response finally came, followed promptly by a yawn. "Are you all right?"
Blinking in the near dark, scarcely able to see her hand in front of her face, Primrose realized that she wasn't sure what she was asking for. It wasn't like she'd planned on climbing into H'aanit's bed with her – at least not over a nightmare. It certainly wouldn't be the first woman's bed she'd shared, but she refused to do so over her dream. "It's nothing. Just a bad dream."
"I had thought they had stoppeden."
Grinding her teeth, Primrose was thankful for the darkness. She didn't have to hide the slight blush that had come to her cheeks. "You'd noticed?"
"Thou hadst seemed to suffer through them every night. I feared for thee, and was grateful when they halteden. I willen they won't returnen."
She could hardly believe it. H'aanit had been worried about her. All this time, she'd thought they were mere traveling companions, yet they had truly become friends. She made the two steps from her bed to H'aanit's and sat at her feet. She wouldn't sleep there, she just needed to feel someone else for a moment, someone who didn't want her dead. "You're always so honest, H'aanit. I'm surprised this is the first you've said of it."
"I thought that thou wouldst rather I not. I willen not to push."
Prim leaned her head against Linde, finding soft warm fur and a pleasing purr. She couldn't bring herself to actually lean on H'aanit so literally, but she still had warmth, presence, and someone to talk to. She felt for her dagger and realized that she'd left it under her pillow. It was the first time since she was a child that the blade had left her side and she felt strangely naked without it. "Thank you for that," she offered lamely. She was still not used to having someone care about her. The last person to do that had died, and the one before her had stabbed her and murdered her father. She had a bad track record with getting close to people.
"Wouldst thou like to talk about it?"
Taking a deep breath, Primrose considered the offer. "It's nothing I haven't told you before. I just still can't shake the memory, but now there's no one to kill over it." She started when she felt a hand touch her. It groped blindly for a moment, gripping soft flesh through her gown before landing on her shoulder. It was calloused, rough, the hands of a warrior. Hands like hers. H'aanit's hand.
"I'll stay up with thee. Thou needst not be alone anymore. I'm by thy side."
Perhaps this was why she'd asked H'aanit to join her in the first place. The two had been through a lot together, helped each other through impossible tasks, and made it out alive, and she'd always felt a certain kinship with the older woman. Perhaps it was just that they were both orphans, but that was hardly uncommon in this age. "I know you are, H'aanit. We promised we'd protect each other."
"Indeed, and just as I promisede, I shall keep thee safe."
She'd been promised such before, and it always came with a price, and a healthy amount of lies. H'aanit had never lied to her. As forthright as she was, she had trouble believing the woman was even capable of it. "You mean it, don't you?"
She could almost see the surprised look on her face. "Why woulde I not? Thou art dear to me, Primrose. I'm happy to calle thee my friend."
She'd never really had one before. "I suppose I just can't quite get used to it. Not after Yusufa."
The hand gripped her shoulder tighter. "I'm not her."
She nodded. She doubted that H'aanit could see the motion, but she seemed to accept it. "I should go back to my own bed and let you sleep."
H'aanit's hand stayed on her shoulder, the grip looser, but still offering a reassuring presence. "Thou dost not havest to leave."
She peered through the dark, trying to meet the eyes of the other woman. She could almost make them out. "Are you sure? I know you need your sleep."
"Master trained me to go many nights without sleep if need be." Her hand shifted, sliding to the small of her back, so as not to hit Linde, and sliding under, wrapping around her, pulling her just the slightest bit closer. "Thou needn't beest alone tonight."
Just for tonight? Primrose had to wonder. Her giggle filled the quiet room. She could scarcely believe what seemed to be happening. "Are you inviting me to share your bed, H'aanit? I wouldn't have expected such."
Silence reigned for several agonizingly long moments, as Primrose began to fear that her joke had frightened the huntress. "Why wouldst thou expect it not?"
Her hand was still on the small of Primrose's back. Perhaps it wasn't only for convenience. "Surely, you jest. You haven't – I mean you don't – you're not –" She managed to hold back her laugh this time. Primrose, indefatigable seducer of men and woman alike, was tongue-tied in the arms of a pretty woman. The other dancers would have never let her hear the end of this.
"Hast thou?"
Even in the dark, Primrose felt that H'aanit must be able to see her smirk. "Of course I have. I learned many things in my time, pleasing men and women was one of the more useful skills. I've had more than my fair share of practice."
There were many different answers that she would have expected in response, the snicker that left H'aanits lips was not one of them. "Eliza helpede me learne a thing or two as well. There were many nights when I hunted not and master was away, while she kepte mine company."
Primrose's jaw dropped. She knew that H'aanit was older than her, but she'd seemed to naive in the ways of men, she certainly hadn't expected it to be because she was instead versed in the ways of women. She'd have expected her to have been intimately acquainted with beasts before that was the case. "Oh."
"That surprisest thee?"
Subtlety was supposed to be one of her virtues. What had H'aanit done to her? Or perhaps it was simply the fulfillment of her quest finally allowing her to be a normal girl again. She preferred that over the idea that it was this strange woman causing the butterflies in her stomach. "I suppose."
"Then allow me to state it clearly. Wouldst thou willeth to share mine bed?"
She hesitated. It was a terrible idea, but H'aanit wasn't Simeon. In a thousand years, Primrose couldn't imagine H'aanit deluding or betraying her. Sharing her bed was appealing, maybe even necessary, but how could she possibly say yes to this? It just didn't make sense. No answer seemed to make sense. "I would," she finally breathed, shocked by her own words.
She felt herself pulled closer to the larger woman, and could almost make out grey eyes staring down at her. Then her eyes were closed, as she felt chapped lips meeting hers. The kiss was gentler than she'd expected, the lips softer, yet almost as rough and firm as the hand on her waist. She gave in, throwing her arms around H'aanit's neck, her fingers twining through the ruddy locks. Their kiss seemed to go on forever. At one point she heard a thump as Linde leaped from the bed to make room for them.
They went no further than that kiss that night, but by the time their lips parted, they both knew that in that instant, everything had changed. They laid with each other, their hearts beating an excited synchronous rhythm, as their minds turned over again and again, sorting out this new discovery. Neither of them had thought that this was what they'd been looking for on this journey, but perhaps it was exactly what they needed.
In the morning, they found Linde in the other bed, and they made their way from the inn with scarcely a word, only stopping to grab a couple loaves of bread for the road. They had time, they would discover what this meant for them long before they'd ever make their way to Noblecourt.