It hadn't always been this way.
When she was fifteen, she started going up the mountains to see her. It was out of curiosity more than anything else. Simone was lonely, that much she knew, though she couldn't ever possibly appreciate the full extent of it. Marshall told her things, sometimes. Sometimes visiting her himself, though he probably didn't know Fionna was aware of it. She went up the mountains because she was bored, and because one of her regular sparring partners had abandoned her. Something compelled her to go to Simone first, though she couldn't stand her at the time. It would be like community service, she thought, throwing her backpack down on the icy courtyard and calling her out. Go spend time with the lonely queen, hah hah.
She did not expect Simone to be smart enough to see through her. To know what she really wanted— a little bit of pain, someone to vent her growing frustration on. A weird, unspoken rapport grew between them: Fionna would go to her, and they would fight, and Fionna would leave. They even had a schedule to it. Cake was uncomfortable with it, of course, uncomfortable enough to not join her.
But she never said why.
Two years went by without event, the unspoken bond between them morphing them into not-quite friends, not quite-hated enemies. Not that either of them would admit it. And so when it happened— when Fionna went to her off-schedule, eyes red-rimmed from tears, and no snowshoes or sweater to protect her— Cake wasn't there to stop her.
She stood unsteady, as if she were drunk. "I want you to do it," she told Simone, staring at her with the fearlessness of young, wild grief. Tossing her sword aside, she let it clatter loud as thunder in the bedroom. Simone, for her part, simply watched her warily from the corner. "I want you to kill me. Do whatever you want to me. I'm done." Hunching over, she put her face in her hands, falling limply to her knees and groaning again, too exhausted for more tears. "I'm done."
No one had warned her hearts were capable of feeling this bad, to feel literally as if her body were cleaved in two. She wanted it gone and no amount of external pain would be enough to satisfy the beast inside her that fed on it. A very, very small part of her knew this was the worst choice possible, that she was overreacting because she was young and in love and her heart had been broken for the first time, that if she just went back home things would be better. Eventually. But the pain roared inside her, a maelstrom, and she had no way to shut it off. Everything was too loud, everything was too bright, and all she wanted was to sleep.
But she couldn't sleep.
Steps in the darkness beyond the hands that covered her eyes. Simone walked around her, bending over to pick up her sword. In front of her, now, she simply looked down at Fionna. On her knees, Fionna waited. And she felt the tip of her sword, very cool, resting underneath her chin.
"Look at me," Simone said, applying enough force to raise her chin up.
Letting her hands flop to her sides, Fionna obeyed. This was before she had learned to read what was inside Simone's solid white eyes, before they began their trysts, before everything. All she saw were blank, soulless pits, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the blade angling down, driving forward with a sharp thrust.
Just as easily as she had picked it up, Simone slid the sword back into the sheath resting on Fionna's hip. Her hand rested on Fionna's shoulder, and all the pain stopped.
"If I'm going to kill you, I'll need a reason for it," Simone said, lifting her up by her arm and making her stand again. Still dazed from the fact that she wasn't dead, Fionna allowed her to. "And it won't be because you want it."
Fury flared inside her, white-hot and cleansing. Fionna accepted it gladly in the hopes that it would burn away her sorrow. "Oh yeah?" she demanded, pulling her sword free again. "Then I'll give you a reason!"
She struck forward, a thrust meant to get Simone moving. The Ice Queen reacted by leaping back, feet not hitting the floor as she levitated just a few feet above it. Fionna jumped after her, kicking forward and slashing across where she had been just a moment before. Simone darted out of the way over and over, occasionally sending a blast of snow and ice at Fionna. It was either dodged or sliced through or deflected with the flat of her blade. Range was Simone's defense, and in this crowded room there was not a lot of that to go around.
Fionna finally scored a hit, nicking at her chest when she was too slow to dodge, spilling more purple blood than she intended. Clutching at her chest with a gasp, Simone reacted instinctively. A veritable tidal wave of snow crashed in through the window, knocking Fionna off her feet and sending her tumbling head over heels through the door into the hallways of the castle. Penguins wenked and scattered, and just as she stood up to charge back in, a blue hand struck her hard across the face. Two short blasts, another sharp slap, and Fionna was pinned against the wall. Shackles of ice fused her against the cold stone, and her sword was in Simone's hand again.
The woman was shaking, and even without knowing the subtleties of her mind Fionna could see rage displayed loudly on her face. "I ought to snap this over my knee and leave you there to freeze," she said, tossing it aside instead and crossing one finger over the wound in her chest. She sealed it shut with a thin layer of ice.
"Why don't you?" Fionna asked, exasperated more than anything else. "I hate you."
"Not nearly as much as I hate you," Simone reassured her, reaching forward to dig her claws into the girl's sides. "And I'm not letting this end just because you got tired. I'm not your dog, Fionna," she hissed, nails sinking through flesh now. Fionna bit back her cries, eyes clenched shut and teeth working on her lips. "I don't attack on command, I don't do what you say, and I don't end this because you—" Simone's palm found her face again, nails trailing red hot on the end of another slap. "Got weak. That's not what I want from you."
"Then what do you want, you sick freak?" she said, muscles straining against the bonds tying her down, head swimming from the pain. Pain, again— but this pain she could control. This pain she could fight. Simone didn't respond, so she goaded her some more. "You're the weak one, here. I left myself wide open— you think I couldn't have dodged this? You think I couldn't have— have chopped you in two? You're the weak one, Simone!" she spat. "You! Not me!"
Far from coaxing more rage out of her, that only made Simone laugh. "I might believe you if I hadn't just seen you beg for death like a legless dog," she told her, wiping the blood from Fionna's mouth and bringing it to her own for a taste. A harsh word in a dead language clapped against her ears and Fionna winced, flinching away from whatever spells Simone concocted. With a solid crack, the section of wall that she was bound to snapped free, and floated behind Simone as the woman marched out of the castle into the courtyard.
"Get out of here," she said, tossing her wall and all outside the castle. "And don't come back until you're ready to use that sword again."
For a moment, Fionna wondered if she was going to make good on her promise to let her freeze. But the bonds around her wrists and ankles melted away eventually, and she achingly got to her feet, limping her way back down the mountain.
It was the first time Simone had ever beaten her in a match.
OoOoOo
A furious rush of icy winds blasted its way down the mountain, strong enough to send every window in the house rocking on its hinges. The noise and relentless chill propelled Fionna out of bed like a small rodent startled out of its den. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she and Cake rushed to and fro, trying to latch them all shut. The storm rose in intensity, dark clouds spilling over the Ice Kingdom's mountains— but strangely, not moving anywhere else. Still groggy from her nap, Fionna wondered if she had slept through her meeting with Simone and if—
No. No, wait. That was last week.
Her stomach plummeted. Dread took up permanent residence in her mind, spinning like a top as it raveled up every other thought around it till her thought process was a delirious mess. Hopping into her shoes, she snatched her yellow sweater from its hangar when she rushed past it, already well out the door when—
"Stop!"
Fionna hung from the door handle as though gravity had reversed and it was her lifeline to the ground, swinging to and fro with impatience as she waited for Cake to talk. "What, Cake?" she said when Cake had a hard time spitting out the words. "Do you like, not see—" she pointed at the rising storm. "—the great big thunderhead of doom on the horizon? Can whatever it is wait until I figure out what's wrong with— with Simone?" Even though she tripped over her words trying to say "Ice Queen", it had grown harder and harder these days to use that sobriquet. Her jaw worked, the muscles visibly shifting underneath the skin of her young, smooth face.
"You're not going up there," Cake said. "You're staying here until whatever this is winds down."
Shocked into stillness, Fionna ceased rocking impatiently, staring at her sister. "Wait, what?" She stood up straight, gripping the straps of her backpack.
"Did I stutter?" Cake demanded. Her tail bushed up stiff and erect. "Get inside."
"Whuh— You— you can't—" she grasped wildly for the words, her thoughts rattling like tin cans now that its downward spiral of dread had been interrupted. She wasn't used to being given orders like this, especially now that she was basically an adult herself. Even when she had been thirteen Cake had been lenient and permissive, independent as was her nature as a cat. She never tried to restrict her, always let her do her own thing. Sure she would persuade, cajole, and sometimes downright bully Fionna into doing what she thought was best, but never like this.
Her fear scented the air around her, tangible to Fionna after having grown up around her. She looked ready to physically restrain her if necessary. "Yes, I can. I'm not gonna turn a blind eye to this any longer, and I'm putting my paw down! After the storm passes we can go to the mountain together, if you still want to. Now come inside." When Fionna didn't respond, Cake unraveled her arm and wrapped it around her waist, dragging her gently back inside. Fionna dug her heels in but otherwise didn't resist, not wanting this to escalate.
"But Cake!" she said as she was reeled in. "What if something happens? What if Simone—"
"Does something awful? Good!"
"Cake!"
"Well isn't that what it would take for you to listen to me?!" Cake demanded, shaking her. Seeing how much of this stemmed from Cake's sincere desire to protect her, Fionna couldn't even find it in her to be indignant.
But this was too much. Fionna actively tried to disengage from her now, wriggling her way through a sudden maze of fur. "She's not a danger to anyone but herself," she insisted. Wading through what felt like miles of elongated cat limbs, she made her way to the door. "She's messed sometimes, you know? But it's just like… like she forgot how to do things. How to act. But she's remembering!"
Laughing shortly, Cake shook her head. "Just how brainwashed are you? Listen to yourself!"
"No, you listen." Dropping her foot down, she was careful not to step on any part of Cake as she stomped so hard the floorboards almost gave way. She stopped trying to escape and marched over to Cake instead. "I did what you said, okay?" Though she did her best to maintain her stern tone, a querulous note wove its way into her words, making Cake pause and shrink her limbs to a normal size, carefully listening to what Fionna had to say. "I'd do anything for you, and you'd do anything for me. That's how this works, right? We look out for each other! So knock it off and let me go help her out as a friend, at the very least!"
Somewhere along the lines, they had switched to another conversation, one Cake wasn't catching up on. "…Fionna?" Fionna leaned against her, forehead resting heavy on Cake's shoulders. Holding her now, Cake's tail deflated with her anger, replaced with confusion as she patted her sister on the back. The change from gate guardian to protective older sibling was immediate. "Fionna, what happened?" she asked, pushing her hat aside to stroke her cornsilk hair.
"It's over." She locked her hands together, holding tighter onto Cake. Digging her nails into her own skin to keep from crying, she sighed instead, shaking her head repeatedly. "It's over. I ended it."
Fionna pretended she did not hear the "oh thank goodness" that accompanied Cake's returning hug, wrapping her arms around her several times to put all her strength in it. Shaking her head, she roughly wiped at her dry eyes just in case any tears were forming as she pulled away. "I still need to go check on her," she said. "She's probably, you know. She's upset."
"Maybe it'd be best if you—"
It would never be clear whether or not Cake would have let her go. Either way, she probably would have been too late. A cataclysmic KRACK tore through the rest of her words, puncturing whatever thoughts they had. It sounded as though the spine of the world had snapped. The two of them froze, waiting for the ground to start shaking or for the sky to start hailing fire. But the last echoes of that terrible noise eventually faded, leaving a strained, silent void in its place. Running to the window, Fionna scanned the area to see what had happened. An unsettled tremor took root in her gut, driving her to slide out the window. Leaping and clambering up the tree house, she pushed aside the top most branches to get a clear view from every direction.
The mountains looked wrong. It dizzied her, though she grit her teeth and muscled through it before it became nauseating. Cake popped up under her elbow to join her in the leafy canopy, paw resting on top of her hand, making a deep whine of discomfort in the back of her throat. It took them the same amount of time to realize the source of their uneasiness.
"It's missing," Fionna said, finding herself holding Cake's hand out of instinct.
Cake narrowed her eyes at the mountain range, tail whipping in a frenzy. "Right? There are just… there's a big chunk torn right out!" Every fiber of fur stood erect now, her tail on end.
Gripping Cake's shoulder tightly, Fionna just looked at her. White as a sheet under her tan and eyes as wide as the moon, she still seemed firm when she nodded her head over to the mountains. The message was clear. Dropping straight down to the ground, Fionna didn't bother to go back for her jacket this time. Her feet pounded grass, not stopping until Cake had sped up to run in front of her, skidding to a halt and sending up a burst of grass and dirt. Standing between Fionna and the mountain trails, she thinned her lips and looked her up and down, sizing up her options.
Expanding to the size of a small pony, Cake kneaded the ground with her flexing claws. "Up on my back," she said with a long suffering sigh. "We'll get there faster that way."
It had been a very long time since they had last gone charging up the mountain trails together. Long enough for Cake to not know the Western path hadn't been safely accessible for at least a year, now. Long enough that Fionna needed to direct her. Long enough that Simone had almost completely morphed into someone almost hermetically sealed into her environment, rarely leaving the inhospitable terrain she called home. That had been fine for Fionna. There were no shortage of ruins to explore in the tundra, quiet quests and daring escapades alike. Even up in barely breathable altitude, there were people in distress who needed saving, and beautiful mysteries to unravel.
At first it had been isolated, lonely afternoons— there and back again before anyone knew she was gone. And then the afternoons had turned into nights, and the nights into weekends, and then the idea that this was some sort of secret became laughable in itself.
Until last week.
Cake shot up the trails and slopes like a blur of creamy orange lightning, but whatever spell Simone was concocting up there, it was already over. The thick black clouds ceased roiling and spun away with every casual breeze, already spent. When the pair skidded to a halt in front of the Queen's castle, they found nothing there but a smooth, bare crater.
Fionna hopped off Cake's back, standing at the rim of the depression in the ground. Slowly at first, then breaking into a jog, she traced its perimeter. Getting more frantic, she searched for something, anything, looking trapped in a fevered dream. Stepping forward, still unwilling to believe, Fionna slipped and slid down to the center of the pit. Snow had already collected there, ankle-deep and biting. Then she fell back, sitting down hard as she stared at the grey slate around her.
Scrambling down as well, Cake's claws squealed painfully as they tried in vain to find a grip on smooth stone. She crunched on top of the snow as well as any other creature born here, but ice and rock had always given her trouble. Padding next to Fionna, she sat at her side and wrapped her tail around her. Unsure of what to do next, she just watched their breath turn into fog and stream away in silence.
When she felt her begin to shake, a whole slew of panicked, half-formed platitudes began to spill out of her lips before she realized Fionna was laughing, not crying. Curling into her knees she giggled helplessly— and maybe a little desperately. "Oh, man," she choked out. "This is j-just like her to pitch a fit like this. What a… what a drama llama."
Tense and silent, Cake just kept her warm until she was ready to go home. She laughed a few times, but not to a worrying extent. Mostly Fionna just sat there shivering, waiting perhaps for the castle to come flying back over the horizon. When the sun started sinking again, she tugged at Cake's tail, her eyes telling her that she wanted to leave. Getting up on all fours and shaking the snow out of her fur, she extended a paw to Fionna, waiting for to accept it.
White teeth clattered like hoof beats. "…I can't walk," she said, very quietly, her forehead lowering down until it was pressed against her knees. There was nothing wrong, she told her even though she was probably frozen solid. She was just tired. So Cake knelt down, shifting her into her arms and walking carefully down the mountainside. Still, somehow, they arrived home a lot quicker than they had left. Fionna was just capable of rolling out of Cake's hold, kicking off her shoes, and falling into bed to curl up under the blankets.
There was nothing wrong, she insisted again, a small shape in a pile of furs too big for her. She was just tired. Cake lay next to her, gently grooming her face until she fell asleep.
OoOoOo
After that day, Fionna did not acknowledge what had happened. Not the secret, not the fight, not the trek up the mountains, the missing castle, nor the subsequent breakdown. At least, not out loud. The days where she would vanish for weeks at a time predictably ground to a halt, only for her to pull a complete 180 as she became unusually clingy. More often, when they went to the Grocery Kingdom to restock or when Bubba invited them over for tea, Cake found her front left paw occupied by Fionna's hand. It was an old habit, not one seen since Fionna was a very, very small girl. She also avoided her own bed as though its blankets were lined with spikes, falling asleep on the couch or next to Cake on her bed, when she slept at all.
Nights were often spent on the front lawn, staring at the mountains.
All in all, Cake came to one solid diagnosis: Fionna was totally wigged out. Things hadn't been this bad since she had broken up with Flame Prince two years previously. While that situation ended with Fionna throwing down and reeling herself into brawls at the barest provocation in the baddest parts of Ooo, this current heartbreak left her disturbingly subdued. Cake couldn't tell which one was worse.
Breathing in deeply, Cake stepped onto the grasslands, lit ghostly by the wan glow of the full moon. Fionna was at her usual spot, sword resting beside her on the crest of a grassy knoll. The Candy Kingdom rested peaceful before her gaze, quiet with most of its residents fast asleep. But they both knew her eyes were trained beyond the bubbled borders, further upwards into the broken mountain range of the Ice Kingdom. If it could be called a kingdom any longer, with no monarch to give it shape.
Keeping enough sense to make noise when she walked so as to not startle her sister, Cake moved behind her and nudged her with one pawfoot. "Hey. I brought cha something." Sitting beside her, she pushed the mug into her hands. The tea was hot, strong, and sweet. Like me! she would have joked, if she felt Fionna would have been receptive to joking. She hoped Fionna would drink it, if only for the chance that the subsequent caffeine/sugar crash might compel her to finally sleep.
They had reached the three week marker. By now Fionna, while not completely healed, still hadn't been so very tender about her breakup with FP. Surely that, at least, would stay the same?
Fionna set the cup aside without a word, returning to her silent vigil.
Best to pull the bandage off quick, then. If she didn't figure out what was going through Fionna's mind, there was no way she would be able to help her. Sitting down next to her, she kept her distance and cleared her throat. "So," she said, following Fionna's eyes to the scarred mountains. "You, uh, really liked her, huh?"
Fionna didn't answer, knees pulled up to her chest and her expression carefully neutral.
This was the part that made no sense. Cake could understand attraction, could understand heartbreak, could understand that Fionna was hurting. But she just didn't understand why. "Even after all I said? After what I told you about her? What she'd done… what she planned?"
This time she nodded, letting out a little breath. "We talked about it," she said. Her voice was an unpleasant surprise, raspy from disuse. Clearing her throat, she took a sip from the mug at last. Cake held a minor celebration over that. "Kind of. I mean, she told me the truth. It was mainly a lot of yelling. I got angry, I ended it."
"…Yeah?"
She didn't elaborate. "Yep." Her attention remained on the mountains, eyes distant. "You know, I think it looks nicer this way." Forming a rectangle with her fingers, she held them in front of her, framing her viewpoint of the world. "More symmetrical, with the castle gone."
"It's been a while since we talked, chickpea," Cake said. "Maybe we should—"
Moving fast, Fionna pounded the ground with a balled-up fist, finally turning to face Cake only to fix her with a furious glare. "What is there to talk about?" she demanded. "What do you want, the gritty details? We were… together, I guess, but now we're not and she's gone, and it's all your fault, and that's all there is to say!"
Pushing the discarded mug back into her hands, Cake firmly ordered her: "Drink."
By the look on her face, Fionna hadn't guessed Cake wouldn't defend herself as vehemently as she had been attacked. Expression darkening again with a scowl, Fionna protested, her clipped tone hitting every t like a snare drum. "I don't want your stupid tea—"
"DRINK IT."
The hard, ferocious edge of her words brooked no argument; this wasn't her sister gently guarding her but the cat in charge, the one who raised Fionna since she was a child. Cowed, Fionna did as she was told. It was hard to look angry when slurping from an aging, well-worn mug of tea. Especially if it was oversweet and prepared by someone who loved you. Soon enough she was faltering, losing her foothold on her bitterness and the clenched set of her jaw. Lowering her gaze, she finished the rest in a few short gulps.
Cake patted her back.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Cake. I shouldn't have said that."
"I know, sweet pea."
They looked up at the sky, watching it lighten into a bruised purple. It healed slowly over the hours, blossoming bloody red and burning orange and finally sunny, cloudless blue. Getting up and stretching, each joint in Fionna's body popped as though the morning chill had frozen them solid. "Let's go do something today," she said suddenly, holding out her arm. Cake nodded, leaping up onto her shoulder and nuzzling against her head.
"Like what?"
Her sword hummed, slicing through the air once before sliding into its sheath. She then drew it just as quickly, testing the smoothness of the motion, the readiness of her arm. "I dunno. I'm sure we'll find something, though."
Whatever had been said was safely swept aside, a drawbridge dropping between the great gap between them. Even if some mornings still found Fionna sitting alone, pain radiating off her raw and palpable as the sun's rays, it wasn't as bad as it could have been.
And Cake felt as though she had dodged an avalanche.
OoOoOo
She came back weeks later, after the claw marks on her face had healed, after the weeping wound in her heart had closed up. The details of that entire day were fuzzy. Fear made her thoughts scrambled and she wasn't sure she could speak, but Simone gave her back her sword without a word.
There wasn't going to be an apology from either of them.
"What if I haven't changed my mind?" Fionna asked her instead, shaking inside her sweater. "What if I still want you to do whatever you want to me?"
Simone raised one hand as a warning, coated in fierce blue power. "Then none of these fights will be any fun again," she said. "It's not a real win if one party withdraws from the competition."
"As if you ever win," Fionna said, snorting. She sheathed her sword, stepping closer to slowly sink down to her knees again. There wasn't any hopelessness in the gesture this time. It almost seemed like an insult. Simone backed away, eyeing her with confusion and confirming her suspicion. "I think I understand what's going on here," she said, smiling grimly. "You can't kill me. You don't want me to die because you'd be lonely without me."
Snarling and grabbing her by the arm, she pulled her up again. "Oh, enough," she snapped. "As if a girl like you could understand." Her hand reached under Fionna's hat, pulling on the blonde hair hidden underneath, forcing her to look into her eyes again. Baring her throat, the little pulse jumping proud against her skin. "You're never lonely," she whispered, eyebrows closely knit. The words unraveled something inside Fionna, even as she soaked up the aching cold touch. That pain was what she usually desired, but now it carried a heavier weight. "Everyone adores you, don't they? Everyone. And when you finally find the one that doesn't, you go suicidal."
She pulled her as close as she dared, breath like morning frost on her lips. "You will never understand me, Fionna. Ever."
Two months later, she was seventeen.
Rousing taunts were thrown back and forth, kindling that strange sensation inside Fionna again. Her back to the wall, Simone's hands wrapped around her wrist and throat, an intense need burning deep inside her. One she couldn't name.
"Do whatever you want," she said for the third time, her breath blowing out as fog.
Simone did.
OoOoOo
After six months, Fionna resigned herself to the fact that Simone was probably never coming back. In all honesty, she knew from day one and her belief was only hardened and set by the passage of time. True, half of her had expected and hoped that maybe she could have fixed what she had broken, but perhaps that had been naive of her.
"Fionna will you please stay still?" Gumball ordered her for the hundredth time, yanking another burr out of her neck. She growled in response, squirming under his ungentle touch. Haggard and worried, he tweaked her ear, applying medicine to the spot. "How did you even manage this?" he wanted to know.
"I slipped out of a tree onto a daggerbush," she said. "And it was either me or the baby birds I was fostering."
Gumball just shook his head, pulling another fist-sized burr where it was buried inches deep into her forearm. Deep enough that it started to bleed. Swiftly applying stringent alcohol swabs and bandages to her arms, Gumball couldn't formulate a response to that at once. Stemming the blood flow and cleaning her wounds, he took care of her as best as he could, since she refused to go to Doctor Prince for treatment. "You," was all he said, shaking his head again.
"Chill out, Bubbles. It's not like I— ow!— don't know how to— eep!"
"I told you, stay still!"
Fionna obeyed, crossing her bandaged arms with a huff until he finished. "I'm not a baby, I can do this myself," she said under her breath as he pulled one from the top of her thigh. She was careful to show no reaction this time, not wincing except for a faint twitch in her eyelids.
That was the last burr, and after he had lifted her leg just enough to wrap the bandage around it, he could speak again. "Oh no, you're just the young adult who can't go one week without bleeding all over my sewing table. You stained one of my new aprons, you know!"
A little stab of guilt worked through her. "Sorry."
"I'll get over it." He wiped a patch of crusted-over blood on her forehead and cleaning her face. "There. All better. Were the birds worth it?"
Proudly puffing out her chest, Fionna tossed her hair over her shoulder with a careless flick. "Being a hero is always worth it!" she announced, hopping off the table and putting her hat and shoes back on. Her socks were a blood-soaked, tattered mess, so she tossed them into a small basket of discarded scraps next to the table where Gumball did his work. "Thanks, bro."
"Anytime." He pulled on the ears of her hat, yanking it down over her eyes. Ignoring her complaints, he laughed and walked over to the desk where an impressive pile of important-looking documents lay, pulling one out to wave above his head. "But since you're here, I do need your help with something. Do you mind delivering this letter for me?"
"Any day, time or place," Fionna said, snatching the letter out of his hand with a salute. "Just say the word."
He looked at her strangely, then, though he was still smiling. "The Duchess of Nuts," he said. "Don't worry about the contents of the letter, it's big boring political stuff. And I need it delivered sooner rather than later— if you're up to the task. I trust you to keep it safe."
Flicking the handle of her sword up out of its sheath so that a few inches of gleaming steel showed through, she snapped it back into place loudly, grinning. "Safe's my middle name. Or sword is my middle name. Okay I don't…" her mouth twisted, and her fingers found their way to her head, scratching at her hair underneath the felt fabric of her hat. "Actually have, a middle name, but if I did it would definitely start with an S."
One pink eyebrow rose up. "It's good to have you back, Fionna."
That unsettled her, almost knocked her footing from right under her. "I never left," she said, holding the letter closer to her chest. That was a lie, of course, because she knew what he meant. The weeks spent gallivanting all across the mountainside, the days of distant excuses and lies. The breakdown, the one she didn't talk about or admit happened. Before they could go down that road any further, she hurriedly excused herself and flew out the doorway, eager to be on the move again.
Things were better now, she told herself later as she took a break from running to drink greedily from a stream. She washed the dust out of her mouth, splashed her face, and double checked all the silly bandages Bubba had insisted on slapping on her. They were really unnecessary for all but the deepest one on her arm and thigh, so she started taking them off. A bruise was forming over one of the more superficial scratches, prompting her to press it lightly with her fingertips and sigh softly. Pain still evoked a very visceral, very unwanted reaction from her body.
Things were better now, she told herself again. Not the greatest, but not bad, either. No more secret rendezvous, no more lies, no more avoiding her friends.
No more kisses, no more burning touches, no more begging and sliding and falling on her knees.
No more—
She marched into her bedroom, unannounced, uninvited. Picking Simone up by the front of her dress before the woman could get a word out, she dragged her out of her chair and up against the wall, slamming her against it.
"Explain this!" she said, yanking something off of the belt loop that kept her sword at her hip. It was a collar, bright and blue. The rusted bell on it still jingled merrily, the light from outside still shone on the faded name. Fionna pressed the collar up to Simone's face, still shaking. "Explain this to me."
White, solid eyes flickered in alarm. "Where did you—"
"Stop it." She shook her, eyes wide with fear and anger. "Just stop it. I already heard one side of the story and now I want yours. Be grateful I'm even listening and explain. This. To me!"
Her shouts might have echoed, if those mountain winds didn't eat up every sound that crossed their ravenous path. Cake's kitten collar jingled again as Fionna slowly let Simone down, letting her stand on her own feet. The smooth, cold neutral expression returned to her sharp features as she spoke. "Whatever Cake told you, it's probably the truth."
Her head was bowed, but Fionna listened.
"It was never a secret. I just assumed you knew."
"Well, I didn't know," she spat out bitterly, whipping away to pace the room. Only her steps sounded, the both of them silent until Fionna exhausted her rage enough to be still again, flopping down on the chair of the Ice Queen's vanity. "I didn't know."
A hand, frigid and gentle, rested on her cheek. "Cake was mine," Simone said. The bell ringed; winds blew just outside, threatening to break in, chaotic and wild. Then she forced Fionna's head up, to meet her eyes. "As were you, in a sense, until she took you."
Shivering in fear for once, not from the cold and not from desire, Fionna slapped her hand away. "Well I'm not yours, not ever, not anymore. And if that's why you started this— this thing between us, then I want out."
If she had pupils, Fionna was sure Simone would be rolling them by now. "You were going to be my servant, not some concubine." She waved the word away with distaste, probably not noticing Fionna's growing horror. "I wasn't child grooming you to be my partner— that's just how you happened to return to me, once you became an adult. I suppose you were too young to remember—"
Dry, startled laughter choked its way out. "Wow. Wow! I don't even know where to begin with how completely and totally donked that entire—"
"Are you saying you didn't return?" Simone demanded, bracing either hand on the back of Fionna's chair, leaning in close. "Are you saying you didn't beg for me to kill you, that you didn't give yourself to me?" Her hand wrapped around her throat. "Are you telling me you didn't do it over and over and over again? I didn't start this, Fionna. You did."
She yearned for it, even then. She wanted Simone to hurt her and salve the wounds with kisses. She wanted that all-consuming hatred, pin-pointed obsession. To belong to her, Fionna realized with a start, moaning into Simone's lips as she kissed her. Standing up with her hands on Simone's waist, she lost herself inside the wetness and the blood, her hot breath fogging up the air.
Until she pushed her away, shouting, "Enough!"
Simone kept her distance, but Fionna wasn't satisfied. Drawing her sword with her shaking hand, she menaced the woman with it. "Enough. I'm done with you. Forever. Never speak to me again, never look at me again. If you ever come near me, I'm running you through."
"I'm done," she said again, suddenly lightheaded. Pressing one hand against her pounding head, she blindly made her way out of the castle, forgetting to bring Cake's collar back with her. She had no idea if Simone said anything, did anything. She never looked back, the last image she had of her face being one of pure shock.
Kneeling by the riverside, Fionna groaned under her breath at the memory, clutching at her chest.
"Things are better now," she said out loud, teardrops shaking free from her eyes. "They have to be."
