A gust of wind. The chirp of crickets. The moon, a white jewel in the sky between clouds. The smell of rain nearly gone. Moss on bricks, grass beneath her fingers, colors of the night so bright with lamplight and the tapestry of stars. Mel sat against the wall of Pemberly Keep, and took a deep breath.
Everything tonight was beautiful.
Mel curled up and stared at the heavens. Images danced before her eyes of what she'd just seen. Stella, swaying to the music, hair in waves, lights in her eyes, grace of a butterfly in a garden as she moved in time with the music, and with Edward too.
A cold breeze pulled past, and Mel hugged herself, in part to keep herself warm and in part to clutch at this feeling bubbling deep in her chest. To see them both so happy filled up her heart, yet to see Stella with Edward hurt.
This was the feeling, and she'd denied it until it started stabbing her in the ribs. Of course the two of them would fall for each other. Edward, mischievous though he was, valued beauty, and Stella had that in abundance, inside and out, radiating, brilliant.
Mel stared at her hairy, soot-streaked arms and sighed, lowering them. She was scrappy and clever, but she hardly queen material, not like Stella, and she didn't want to be anyway. Her dreams of a life with Edward on a chicken farm was a passing fancy. She'd known that deep down for a while now.
But then losing Stella to that, too, just after letting herself feel this way about her...
Before Mel could sink into the depths of a good brood on that subject, the door opened to the keep. Mel slunk back into the bushes out of instinct. She wasn't sure she could face anyone coming out to look for her right now.
To her surprise, Lydia walked into the courtyard. The noble had been glowering at the dancers with no small disdain, and Mel wasn't surprised. She'd clung to Edward like a barnacle for the past week, and now the sight of efforts in vain as Stella out-queened her must have pushed her over the edge.
Mel grinned in spite of herself. At least this debacle had that going for it. The pain of her enemy was her friend, or however that saying went.
Lydia stomped over near where Mel sat and slumped down against the wall where Mel had been moments before. Mel looked at her through the leaves, expecting to see a fierce scowl darkening Lydia's face, and it did for a moment. Then Lydia sighed, rubbed her perfect forehead and gritted her teeth. She glanced around. Mel stayed quiet and still. Then, slowly, Lydia's face unfolded into an expression like nothing Mel had ever seen. Her eyes drooped. Lines formed on her brow. She bit her lip rubbed her temples, put her fist to her mouth. Her features twisted into one of incredible, intense pain.
Then, Lydia Rupert began to sob.
Among the rush of wind between leaves, the sound was almost nothing. A quiet "huh" over and over in rhythm. Her body shook, she sniffed, pulled out an embroidered handkerchief. She unceremoniously blew her nose and threw the thing on the ground. A stream of curse words issued forth, the likes of which Mel had only ever heard before in the most dangerous of docks and streets.
Mel wanted to say this served her right, but she was too bewildered by Lydia showing anything besides angry happiness and general disdain to even know what she could be upset about.
At that moment, a large gust pulled through the branches, which caught Mel's hair ribbon and smacked her in the face.
"Oof!" she said, and Lydia jumped. Mel went stock still, but it was too late. Lydia plunged her hand into the bushes and seized Mel by the collar of her shirt, then pulled her out through the twigs and leaves. Mel let out a cry of protest and struggled against her grip. Fire coiled into Lydia's other hand, and she dropped Mel on the ground and stood, towering over her like a fiend.
"Street rat," she said. Mel leapt to her feet,
"Hey! Who do you think you are, pulling random people out of bushes!"
Lydia's lip curled into a sneer.
"It's certainly less than you deserve for spying on me!"
"I was already out here," Mel said, " I thought you'd be inside enjoying the party. Don't you nobles like that sort of thing?"
Lydia wiped her tear-streaked face with her elbow. The fire went out.
"Shut up, street rat. I saw your face when Prince Edward asked her to dance."
Ah, had she? That was a pain. Mel tried to shrug it off.
"At least I'm not out here sobbing like a fool over it."
Lydia narrowed her eyes.
"No, you're hiding in a bush like an animal," she paused and sniffed, "Look, you're just as upset as I am about this whole affair, aren't you?"
Mel raised an eyebrow at Lydia.
"I'm upset that my best friend is taking my other best friend. Not that I'm losing the chance for power."
Lydia rolled her eyes.
"Semantics. The point is, they've done us wrong, and so I propose a vengeance plot."
Most of Mel told her this was a terrible idea. The remaining part, tiny and ugly, said go for it.
"A vengeance plot?"
Lydia nodded.
"We need to confuse them, make them jealous. Come in and dance with me, and it'll ruin their whole night."
She held out a slender hand.
Mel stared at it and considered. This was mild as far as vengeance plots went, and something about the offer was strangely enticing.
This was dumb, and Mel know it was dumb, but she took her hand. Suddenly Lydia was leading her off into the halo of light from the door. They stepped in together just as Galahad ended another song on the fiddle and then they were in the center of the room. Edward and Stella, seated on the couch, stared at the pair of them in shock. Mel felt her cheeks flush. What was she doing?
Lydia curtsied to her, offering her other hand. The candlelight fell over her green hair, showing off its curls and sheens. Mel realized there were flecks of gold glitter along Lydia's eyelids. Something strange seized her bones, and she gave a quick bow. Lydia stepped up and took her hand. Galahad just shrugged and started up.
They danced. It took all of Mel's agility training to keep up. Lydia was graceful like water. Her movement flowed and ebbed. The sharp gazes of the other party members faded away and all Mel could see and feel was the rhythm and Lydia.
They danced.
Their steps locked into each other in perfect pace and she moved with a grace she didn't know she had. Mel grinned. Lydia's eyes flashed with mischief, and she matched the grin. Mel felt something sharp and lovely drive straight to her heart at that, and she nearly tripped.
Lydia caught her, righted her. Their movements became one.
Galahad played faster. They twirled. Lydia went under Mel's arm. Mel lifted her into the air with a spin (she was so light!) and set her down again.
The music curved, came to a close. Mel took Lydia's waist and they ended in a dip.
Mel brought Lydia back up, and suddenly remembered where she was, who she was, and what she'd just done. Lydia bit her lip and wouldn't meet her eye.
Thunder struck Mel's veins. Did she just...enjoy a dance? With Lydia?
Stella lept up before either of them could say a word. She pulled Mel into a tight hug, which snapped her out of the spell, but only a little.
"Mel!" she said, then let go and hugged Lydia, "Lydia. I'm glad you two are getting along better."
Lydia awkwardly accepted the hug, and her face turned bright red at Stella's embrace. She saw Mel's stare, and her eyes shot to the floor with a scowl.
The thunder struck Mel again.
They were upset about the same thing?
Stella let go and looked between them. Mel and Lydia couldn't dare look at the woman they both had such strong feelings for.
Stella sighed.
"Look, you two." She lifted up their chins to look at her. "Life is short and loves are precious."
She smiled, no hint of mischief, just radiance. The fear fled Mel's and Lydia's hearts and they looked at Stella and each other. Stella kissed both of them on the cheek.
"We can have more than one."
No one saw any reason to argue with that.