A/N:
So, been a while hasn't it sorry! I guess I don't have much luck, I've had a very very stressful few years, and no longer found any enjoyment whatsoever in writing. It was a chore and I'd just end up spending hours staring at a blank word document while trying to force myself to write, and of course that resulted in mediocre writing (and the scene near the end of this chapter was hard to write for a whole number of reasons!).
Recently though, my boyfriend encouraged me to pick this up again, along with my original story so... sorry how long this has taken as always! And thanks for reading :)
The crashing of the waves was loud, and accompanied by the seagulls screaming overhead, blocked out all sound. It was like music to Feferi's ears.
Over the past few days, the cramped conditions of the boat had been full of nothing but bickering or full blown fighting. Feferi had previously thought that Vriska and Aradiabot had made peace with one another, and in general they had done just that… in a way. But it seemed that Vriska's habit of winding people up had only gotten worse with nothing to do on the boat. Or – Feferi's favourite theory – Vriska had actually gotten a lot nicer but felt compelled to act mean before the rest of them. A few times she had caught how the Brit acted when she was alone with Tavros, and while she was still as abrasive as ever, there was an odd kindness to her.
Regardless of that, the shouting was still a massive pain and Feferi was glad to be off the boat and in the ocean. She had volunteered to catch some fresh food for her friends in an attempt to raise their spirits, but the sea was nothing but open ocean where they were, and all she had seen so far was a very large and strange looking fish, which she decided against tackling.
Eventually she managed to spot a smaller shoal of fish swimming past, but she was far too slow to catch any of them, and by the time a slower fish approached her, she found she did not have it in her to kill it. Instead, she gave it a pat on the head and returned to the boat.
"Guess there aren't plenty of fith in the thea, huh," Sollux commented as Feferi clambered on.
"Well," she replied, wringing her hair. "There were a lot of fish, but I couldn't kill them! They were too cute."
"Typical, Fef," he snorted, then handed her the towel beside him. "Go get a thower, you thmell awful."
"At least I'm not a nerd," she smirked, and kissed his forehead.
Unlike the boat the others took, their boat (while still pretty run down looking) had a certain degree of luxury to it. The warm water soon washed the chill of the ocean from Feferi's bones, and she left it's comfort half an hour later, hair piled upon the top of her head in a fluffy towel. Outside was Vriska, who needed the bathroom and had no qualms about hammering on the door every other minute until Feferi left. This, of course, had only made Feferi take longer.
"Were there no fish?" asked Aradiabot as Feferi sat beside her.
"They were all too fast!" Feferi smiled. "I may be able to breathe underwater, but I guess I'm no mermaid. Fins are required for swimming and hunting."
The robot thought about what she had said, then replied, "Hmm."
Feferi thought nothing of it until Aradiabot walked into the kitchen area of the ship an hour later with a lobster the size of a large dog.
"W-what?" the tyrian blood stammered. "Where did you find that?"
"My body can withstand greater pressures than yours," she shrugged. "Though perhaps this is too big."
"Well given that only Sollux, Vriska and myself are going to be eating it then maybe you should throw it back and get something smaller?" Feferi suggested. "Plus, to be that size it must be, like, four hundred years old or something."
The lobster wriggled in agreement, and Aradiabot sighed and left the ship, then returned yet another hour later with a far more reasonably sized squid.
In a matter of fact tone, she said, "This one was trying to eat me."
"But you don't even look like food," commented Vriska, prodding at the dead squid.
"She's shiny, so uhh, I guess she looked like a fish,"
"Oh yeah."
"I had my lights on as well in an attempt to see. It attracted a swarm, and they were all interested in eating me."
The dents and scratches on Aradiabot's body were suddenly brought into focus, and Equius began to fuss, insisting that she leave with him to get her casing fixed.
"Must have been some determined squid to dent her metal…" Feferi frowned. "Anywave, I guess we should start preparing this! Does anyone know how to prepare squid?"
Silence fell as Tavros, Vriska and Sollux looked at each other with equally bewildered expressions.
"Well carp."
She got up from where she was seated and headed where Aradiabot and Equius were seated. The former had her legs resting on the latter's lap, where Equius was polishing the metal with a rag, something that seemed to require a lot of focus.
"Feferi," The robot looked up at her with a hint of a smile, though her face was quickly overcome with a frown as she asked, "You don't want me to go catch something else, do you?"
"No no, we were just wondering If either of you know how to prepare squid?"
Luckily for those who would be eating the meat, Equius had been on fishing trips with Nepeta and their father a number of times and accordingly knew how to treat it… somewhat.
"Nepeta usually took care of what we caught," he muttered, up to his elbows in squid innards before he ripped out the organs. "You can throw this away."
Due to the ominous juices leaking out of the squid, they had opted to do the dissection outside, but it had resulted in Equius, Vriska and Feferi being drizzled on by a light rain.
Vriska gathered the innards together, and rummaged about until she found the beak, hidden in the tentacles. "It's huge!"
"Guess that's what got Aradia…" Feferi said as she watched Vriska saw it away from the flesh. The beak was almost as big as the cerulean blood's face, and once it was free she scrambled to her feet to go terrorise Tavros. "Well, she shore wasn't kelping, so it's not a big loss."
Equius continued wordlessly, pulling the skin from the flesh. Before long, the sound of Tavros crying out in disgust echoed through the door, and Feferi giggled.
"Need any help with anyfin?"
"If you could find something to hammer out the meat with, that would be helpful. As far as I can recall, the meat is too tough to eat like this," he said, slicing pieces of cartilage out. "Aradia may be able to do that, in all honesty."
"Oh! Well I'll go crab her,"
"You will what?" he replied, giving her a confused look over the rim of his glasses.
"Grab her. Crab her. It's a pun!"
"Ah."
Inside the kitchen area, Aradiabot was preparing ingredients to be cooked with the squid, with a big pan of rice simmering on the back hob. It seemed that the ritualistic steps of cooking were relaxing to the robot, and Feferi could hardly blame her.
"Aradia? Equius wants you outside."
The robot washed her hands and headed outside, which was quickly followed by loud thudding as she repeatedly punched the squid flesh to soften it. After a few minutes, the pair returned, and Aradiabot added the chopped tinned vegetables to the saucepan and fried them, before throwing in a stock cube and water. Once the mixture was simmering, she split the mixture between two pots. In one pot, she placed the now sliced squid in, then inspected the cupboards for seasoning and shook in whichever took her fancy.
"Dinner is ready," she announced, and placed the three pots down on the table. "Rice, vegetarian and squid."
"Thanks, Aradia!" Tavros grinned as he took his place. The group sat around the table and dug in, while Aradiabot headed outside, finding it uncomfortable to sit and watch others eat.
The next morning was the same as the others they had spent on the boat, and the air was heavy with moisture. In the distance, a spire rose out of the ocean, bringing to mind the now drowned New York skyline. Their journey was almost over.
Though the wind was a little warmer than it had been on other mornings, Feferi felt colder than she had in a long time. It was silent, save for the slapping of water on the boat, and the tap tap tap of Vriska's shoes hitting the deck as she jogged on the spot for warmth, or maybe the mental distraction. The others were asleep or waiting inside, not wanting to brave the outside.
Around the base of the spire were hundreds of boats tied together, much like the American tower that they had journeyed from, though these boats were occupied, with the sound of people going about their daily lives being carried over to them by the breeze. The closer they got, the more they could smell sewage and the putrid smell of rubbish.
"It's kind of terrifying, isn't it?" Vriska's voice made Feferi jump, and she turned quickly to confirm that it was, in fact, the prickly Brit who had said the comment.
"The tower? Yeah…"
"No. The fact that we're almost… almost done…"
Feferi frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Well, we were taken by that bitch when we were, what, thirteen? We've been playing this stupid game of hide and seek for years. And now it's about to be over," Vriska huffed, as if to hide the fact that she had just opened up to the other girl. "I mean, either we die fighting her, and it's done. Or we somehow beat her up and free everyone, and it's done. We'll be free to live out whatever's left of our life."
That was perhaps the longest speech that Feferi had ever heard Vriska say, or rather the longest sincere speech. She almost wrapped an arm around her shoulders to comfort her, but thought better of it.
"I'm shore we'll take her down. We're quite the team and she's just one lonely, batty old lady."
"One lonely, batty and crazy powerful old lady," smirked Vriska.
"You've got me there!" Feferi managed a laugh, an honest one. "Listen, whatever happens, we have each other – no, don't roll your eyes, I'm sea-rious! – and we'll be together. We'll kick her butt, and then just, just go for a vacation for a week! We deserve it."
"A week? Make it a year and you've got a deal, fish girl."
The pair stared down the tower, but now each had a small smile on their face, before joining the rest of their companions below deck to prepare their disguises. It was go time.
== What's the Handmaid up to?
You are now the Handmaid.
While the weather outside was the calmest it had been for weeks, the Handmaid had never been more on edge. There was one simple reason for this; the Condesce had left an elegantly wrapped bag on her desk, and inside was a bottle of 'Alternian' liquor.
There had to be a catch. There was simply no way on earth or the distant planet that they originated from that the Condesce was suddenly being charitable and rewarding. None at all.
The Handmaid's first guess was that a poison had been dissolved into the strong smelling alcohol, but she soon found a card swearing against any foul play. If anything, however, this only served to make her suspicion larger, for why would the Condesce give her such a rare and expensive present?
The sudden beeping of a timer grabbed her attention, and the Handmaid frowned. Fifteen minutes until she had to be at the training room to meet Rufioh. Beside the door was a full length mirror, and she quickly glanced at herself, ensuring that her long hair loops were secured safely behind her head before she banged her fists on the door.
On the other side of the thick metal, an errand boy waited beside the bulky soldier guarding the entrance. At the loud sounds, they activated the intercom.
"Take me to room T4," she ordered.
Before long, she arrived at the training room with ten minutes to go until Rufioh arrived; ample time to get the necessary equipment out for him. On the wall was a small red cube, the size of a die, embedded into the wood paneling. Upon waving her hand before it, the Handmaid took a generous step back and the cube unfolded itself into a thread thin frame of a huge rectangle several metres wide. The frame then filled rapidly with a strange substance that hardened into a smooth screen, and several windows popped up on it.
The Handmaid pulled up Rufioh's files, checking for any notes added by the Condesce, and satisfied that there were no changes needed, set the room to a gun training mode. As the wall panels began to shift, entire sections of the room moving and rearranging itself with targets and obstacles appearing, the Handmaid simply seated herself in the centre of the room and pulled out her ever present joss stick holder, and lit a stick of incense. It was hard to concentrate with the rhythmic creaking surrounding her but she managed it somehow, withdrawing until she forgot that she was trapped by some homicidal fish alien.
Setting up took much less time than it had in the previous base, allowing her a few minutes of peace, before Rufioh let himself in and shook her by the shoulder.
"You awake, dollface?"
"Yes," she replied, irate at being disturbed. "Don't call me that."
"My bad," he said with a chuckle. "You ready to go?"
The Handmaid stood up in one swift movement and brushed the dust off her boiler suit.
"Today's trainin' will be rooted in physical athleticism rather than the usual hand to hand combat. Are you ready?" smirked the Handmaid as she led him to the start of the course.
"I, uh, yep," his confidence faltered when he saw the hand gun she held out to him. "Are you using that or am I?"
The Handmaid simply quirked an eyebrow in amusement, placing the gun in his hand.
"Get movin', kid. You'll know when you reach the end."
Before Rufioh was a complex maze that simulated rooftops, narrow entry ways and wire mesh fences topped with barbed wire. He tucked the pistol into the hem of his trousers and leapt up to grab the rim of the first obstacle.
While the Taurus was hoisting himself about the course, mannequins began to pop up, holding their own guns filled with paint pellets. The aim of the game was to reach the end with as little paint on his body as possible, though it was hit or be hit, and he would have to ensure that he shot the mannequins before they spotted him.
Rufioh was far from flawless, and ended up with a number of vivid green splashes staining his skin and clothing. However, the vast majority of the targets were hit, and he completed the course in under an hour. Throughout it, the Handmaid kept an occasional eye on him, ensuring he had the correct form for his shooting and parkour. It was only when Rufioh cheekily asked if she liked that she saw that she realised she had been staring. She quickly averted her eyes.
Once he jogged through the final doorway and saw that it was over, he flopped down, back to the ground and panted, "How was that?"
"Hm," the Handmaid said, twisting her lips into a smile. "It was hardly the cat's pajamas, but it'll do in a pinch. You got shot eight times though."
"Eight?" groaned Rufioh. "Come on, there were at least fifty targets in total, and I only got hit by eight!"
As he caught his breath, the Handmaid brought up a tablet and checked the data that had been derived from the course.
"That's over one in ten, hotshot. Three hits to your legs, one to your arm, shoulder and stomach and one to your neck," she read, then peered down at him. "I think it's safe to say that rust bloods like us would be dead from an attack like that."
"Well, huff, you'll just have to, hoff, spend more time with me, huff, then," he said with his best attempt at a flirtatious grin on his face, though the fact that he was still out of breath somewhat ruined it. "Help me up?"
"You can do that yourself, kid. Again."
Poor Rufioh had to traverse it twice more, getting hit by more and more bullets each time. Eventually the Handmaid took pity on him, and she retired that particular course as they took a lunch break; a modest meal of flat breads, hummus and sliced meats. Once they were done, she pulled a pair of sparring batons from the supply room and threw one at him.
"You look done with gun trainin' for the day, so let's move on."
As Rufioh had very little prior knowledge when it came to this style of fighting (and was clearly exhausted from that morning's training), she decided to take it somewhat easy on him.
"If you're havin' to use one of these in a fight, it'll probably be once your gun's been ripped away. Call for backup, and try to remain on the defensive," she advised. "Just defend against my attacks for now, got it?"
Rufioh nodded in agreement, and with that she began to swipe at him with her baton. Even going gently on him she managed to land a few hits on his arms, but was unable to hit him in the torso, which showed promise. While she could have done without the cheesy flirting when she complimented his form, she was pleased with his progression that day.
Once confident that he had a grasp of the basics of defence, she set up a few of the robotic dummies to fight against him, simulating a very small mob and as always he was eager to show off.
"Good job, you'll do great under Her," she remarked somewhat bitterly as the Handmaid deactivated the brobots. "I won't be able to see you in action, but I'm sure you'll do just fine, hotrod."
The Taurus stopped rubbing at a bruise and gave her a confused look. "You're, uh, one of the best soldiers here, aren't you? We'll both be at the front lines, surely, dollface."
"Don't worry about it," she replied, shaking her head.
To both of their annoyance, the washroom provided was out of order thanks to the Condesce cutting as many corners on 'non-essentials' as physically possible. As somewhat of a joke, Rufioh asked if he could use the washroom in the Handmaid's quarters, and without thinking about it she agreed. Perhaps wanting some company to mull over the Condesce's gift with.
The walk back to her room was silent and awkward, though Rufioh was quick to comment on her room once the errand boy had left.
"This room is massive, and you get an en-suite! Who'd you kill to get this?" he said, before shooting her a grin. "On second thoughts don't answer that."
"Wise choice, kid," she replied with a wry smile. She grabbed some clean towels for him, and led him to the bathroom.
"I'm only two years younger, darlin'"
"Don't call me that. This works like the one in the trainin' room. Put your dirty clothes in the hatch, then it cleans and dispenses them here once you're done washin'. Left for cold, right for hot."
"Got it, sweet cheeks."
"That's even worse," she frowned. "Don't spend too long in there."
Apparently, Rufioh's version of a short shower was half an hour long and involved loudly singing songs throughout. Songs which he barely knew the lyrics too, and if the Handmaid was to be honest, were far outside his vocal range. Hearing another living thing nearby reminded her of the simpler times spent with Doc Scratch in the past, and the sound of Rufioh's awful singing relaxed her a little, strange though it was. She supposed that it was natural to feel lonely in such isolation.
The sound of running water cut off, but the singing did not until he left the bathroom.
"Love that just dried feeling when you get your clean clothes back," he announced while vigorously rubbing his hair with a towel. He then noticed the bottle on the desk. "They let you drink?"
The Handmaid shrugged.
"Still not sure if it's poisoned or not. But I'm not sure if that would be a bad thing or not anyway,"
"Didn't take you for the kind to have a death wish,"
"You live long enough under Her thumb, and anything seems like a good alternative," replied the Handmaid with a snort.
"Good point," Rufioh said, and uncorked it to sniff at the contents. "Whatever that is, it's strong."
"She does like her alcohol," the Handmaid replied, then leapt to her feet as Rufioh quickly downed a swig of it. "Are you crazy? What're you doin'?!"
Rufioh wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gagged.
"That's fucking awful," he winced, then took another sip.
"Then why'd you drink more?"
"May as well have some fun before we go into battle," he grimaced. "Want some?"
For a few seconds, she hesitated, thinking about how it could make her look bad, but given how she was likely going to be executed in a few weeks, the Handmaid instead took the bottle from him and drank deeply. She tilted her head back far as she gulped down a good mouthful, revealing the collar marks from the patrols she went on.
"Hey, what's that on your neck?" asked Rufioh, a frown marring his face. "Is She still doing that to you?"
"Duh," the Handmaid took another swig before passing it back to Rufioh. "It's my punishment, and she enjoys my screams a worryin' amount."
"What?!" Rufioh looked horrified. "I shouldn't be shocked, but damn, that's…"
"Humiliating and creepy?" finished the Handmaid with a small smile. "That's the point, dumbo."
"I guess…"
Both wished the alcohol would begin to set in already, as the silence soon turned awkward.
"Do you know why She gave you this?"
Shrugging, the Handmaid kept her gaze fixed firmly on the wall to avoid Rufioh's eyes. "I have a feelin' that if I don't kick the bucket in the next few weeks from fightin', that she's going to take care of the job herself. So, it's probably a consolation present for that. To show that she's a swell chick after all."
"A swell chick?"
"That was sarcasm."
"Wait, no, uhh… she's going to kill you?" The implications of the rest of the sentence suddenly hit him, and Rufioh frowned even deeper. "That can't be true. You're making it up, right?"
"That would be tasteless,"
Silence fell as they sat beside each other on the bed, and the Handmaid began to feel strangely light.
"The last time I drank was in the twenties,"
"Two thousand and twenty?"
"No, nineteen twenty, you bimbo!" she snorted. "Did you forget I'm a time traveller that quick?"
"Well it's a fuckin' weird thing to remember, you know?"
"You got a point."
They passed the bottle between them some more until only a third remained.
"I don't even feel that drunk," commented Rufioh, before he tried to stand up and promptly lost his balance. "Never mind."
The Handmaid giggled, and then realised what noise was coming out of her mouth. "Christ, this stuff is strong. Me gigglin' stays 'tween you an' me, got it, hotshot?"
"Anythin' for you, darlin',"
"Maybe this is what that, what she wanted. I mean she could come in here and… and… crap where was I goin' with that?" The Handmaid laid back on the bed, and enjoyed the sensation of the room spinning around her. "Huh."
"You really gonna get killed?" Rufioh asked suddenly.
"She blames me for the death of her old flame. She's only keepin' me 'round as long as she's gotta,"
"So are you why he died?"
"I mean… yeah. But it's not like I asked the old geezer to kill himself for me!" she replied with a pout. "He was a creep anyways. What kind of middle aged guy falls for a little girl?"
"Aren't they both, like way older than they look anyway?" pointed out Rufioh.
"Yeah, makes it worse," The Handmaid grimaced as she sat up. "They both had memories of some past lives or somethin' and they held me to that other version of me. Dunno why I can't remember that stuff though."
Rufioh looked confused at the talk of past lives.
"Oh. You have no idea what I'm talkin' about, huh?"
"No clue, darlin',"
"Well you remember stuff from before you were 'born', right? You were only pulled out of the growth tank a few months ago. Your memories of the other Alternians were implanted from your last body," she explained. "You knew that, right?"
"I guess that explains a lot…" he mumbled, suddenly feeling much more sober. "Why did only some of us come back?"
"Some of the cloning tubes were damaged before all of you were complete. That's what She said, anyway."
"So they're dead."
"I thought you knew…"
"Ehh, I thought that had happened anyway. We'd all been selected to do this, but we were on the verge of killing each other anyway," he said, much to the Handmaid's surprise. "Just glad I didn't get put with Horuss or Damara."
"Who's Horuss?"
"Uhh… the guy I cheated on Damara with. It was a mistake! But she was crazy possessive towards the end, I wanted to leave her, but I couldn't do it. Felt too bad, you know?"
Sceptical at his excuse, the Handmaid raised an eyebrow at him. "So you broke poor alternate me's heart because you were too chicken to break up with her? I hope Horuss was worth it… and goin' by your expression I'd say no?"
"He was even worse!"
"You tell him that?"
"Nope," he said with a fearful head shake. "After how much Damara flipped out, I'm just gonna ghost him and wait for him to leave me…"
"And how's that workin' for you, champ?"
"Not well,"
"What even happened to Damara?"
"She, uhh…" He averted his eyes. "She killed herself trying to take me out with her. Another one of our crew, Meenah, was a total bitch to her and wound her up until she decided that only she could have me or something. I guess I must have died from it too."
"No wonder you were so shocked to see me,"
"Yeah. Kinda messed me up a bit, but that's what I get for dating crazy I guess?"
"They say if your exes were all crazy, then you're probably the crazy one,"
"Aww, you don't think I'm crazy do you, dollface?" he replied, a hurt expression on his face.
The Handmaid laughed before taking another swig from the bottle. "Hmm, I guess there's an exception to every rule. I think you've just got a terminal case of grass is greener syndrome."
"Heh, sounds right," he snorted. His voice then turned flirty as he leaned closer to her. "Y'know, I think I've got it right now."
"Give it a rest, it's not funny," sighed the Handmaid, but smiled to let him know she thought he was joking.
"I'm being serious!" he said, an exaggerated pout on his face. "We're both gonna die soon anyway, why, uh, why not give it a shot?"
If she had not been full of almost half a bottle of Alternians liqueur, the Handmaid probably would have declined his offer. Yet… after a lifetime of holding back from attachments with anyone for their own good, she decided to Hell with it all. As he said, they were both going to be killed soon anyway so having a quick fling would not harm anyone, and she had always wondered what it would be like to freely care for someone. There was only one problem.
"You realise I'm not Damara, don't you?" she said in a firm tone. "If this is just some way of findin' a replacement for her, then this won't end well for either of us."
"No! God no, don't think that. You're nothing like her. I mean, aside from looks," he stumbled.
"I don't know if I'm flattered or insulted that you're talkin' shit about alternate me," she said with a sly smile. "But… sure. What's the worst that could happen?"
His eyes lit up.
"Really? You sure?*
The Handmaid nodded, feeling almost timid for the for time in her life. There was barely any time for her to feel timid however, as Rufioh had leant in, and pressed a soft kiss on her lips, replacing the nerves with butterflies in her stomach.
Pulling away, she bit her lip, embarrassed but content.
"You've no idea what you're doing, do you?" he said gently.
"What? W-well it's not like I've done this before!" the Handmaid stammered, her face flushing maroon. "It's hardly like there's loads of eligible bachelors here to mess about with!"
"Never?" Rufioh replied, clearly surprised.
"Well I'm not exactly a catch for any humans, with the horns an' all. Even without the shock collar, most find me unnerving," she snorted. "An' obviously most of this base has been full of little kids. Some of the staff expressed an interest in me before but it seemed like more of a challenge to hook up with me, rather than anything else."
"Yeah that's fair, I get why now," he said with a frown. "Well I've got no underlying motives, I just think you're a great Alternian. I wanna get to know you better."
"Alternian, huh…" There was something odd about hearing herself referred to as one since she had spent her whole life on earth in the company of humans.
"Something wrong?" Concerned, Rufioh gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"No. But…" the Handmaid paused. While learning about such matters just before her death seemed a waste, if Rufioh could tell her about Alternian's and their culture she could at the least die somewhat enlightened about her history. "Promise you'll tell me Alternia tomorrow."
"I'd love to," he smiled. "I can tell you about it now, 'f you want?"
She shook her head, before drawing him close for a deeper kiss, or at least she really hoped that's what she was doing. As a child, she would be taken to the theater with Doc Scratch to 'teach her some culture, and though the plays full of crime and problem solving were her favourites, as she grew older she began to develop a soft spot for the romance scenes. One time she had even managed to sneak off at night in her best dress, and tried to get into one of the finer bars. The idea was to meet her own sleuth who she could become a partner to, and assist in solving crimes, but she was turned away at the door and told to go home. The Handmaid wondered what the younger her would have thought of this seemingly impossible situation she was now living.
And then she could not think about anything other than how close Rufioh was, and how his hands felt there, and where his lips were and… she wished she had responded to his flirting sooner.
Six hours later, the maroon blood awoke to the sound of an alarm. Her alarm. But something was different. Her head hurt, like the worst headache she had ever felt, and her mouth was dry. And there was a warm body pressed against hers.
Oh crap!
Her first reaction was humiliation at the thought of getting drunk enough to… to do whatever they had done, yet the primal comfort felt at how there was an arm, a warm arm slung over her waist was much stronger than expected. Rufioh was snoring softly beside her, having slept through the alarm, lips just brushing her neck as his breath fanned across her skin. Never in the many years of her life had she woken with another person in her room.
It was nice. But the hangover was not, and she screwed her eyes shut in an attempt to get back to sleep.
The alarm went off again, and she realised that she had an impending meeting with the Condense.
"Crap!" She shot up, flung the covers off and dashed to the bathroom to get ready. At the sudden loss of a blanket and the woman he was holding, the other troll stirred.
"Whu…"
"Good morning," she called, glad he could not see her flushed face as what she had done, what they had done began to really sink in. "I'll be five minutes."
"Sure," he replied while yawning.
Had she not been in a rush, the Handmaid would have stayed in the shower for far longer to avoid the man in her room, but she decided that an angry Condense was far worse than an embarrassed Rufioh. There were love bites all over her neck, shoulders and chest and… she zipped the overalls up as high as they could go. Despite her best efforts, She would likely still know what had happened but sod it, the Handmaid still tried her best to hide the evidence.
"I have a meeting with Her. I will meet you in the training room at the usual time. Don't be late," she mumbled, trying her utmost to be professional but failing as her eyes began to linger on the bruises her lover had on his body. "Um, I-I. Yes. Bye. Thank you."
Before he could get a word in, she flung open the door and instructed the errand boy outside to get her to the Condesce's office 'pronto'.
"There you are, you little minx," She said with a sneer as soon as the younger troll entered the room. "What held you up this time?"
She did not know? Perhaps the meeting would be fine after all…
"I slept through my alarm. Forgive me," she mumbled, and to be fair it was the truth. "It will not happen again."
"Oh, I guess you found my little present then?" The Condesce rearranged her crown, before adding in an almost sympathetic tone, "A hangover from Alternain liquor is quite the nightmare, is it not? In any case, I'll let you off this once. Getting out of bed after a good drink is hard. Especially when there's a lover involved."
Fuck.
"I don't know what you could be implying."
"Oh, my dear little Handmaid. I did not realise that the very same day I procured you some liquor you would end up sleeping with your student! And you think I'm bad for fucking that high blood kid."
"Gamzee is a child compared to you!" the Handmaid was quick to retort, which resulted in a slap.
"I do not appreciate your tone," the Condesce sat back down in her seat. "What was I supposed to do after your murdered my other beau?"
"For the last time, it wasn't my idea. I didn't even like him!"
"No, you have more of a taste for younger men, no?"
"He's two years younger, and that doesn't mean anythin' at our age! Gamzee is like, a century younger than you! And he was 16 when you started this shit!"
"You sexual predator!" leered the Condesce, before throwing her head back in a cackle. Evidently she had also been drinking some of the liquor before this meeting. "I just hope you can entertain that young thing before he leaves you for another model. Just like he did to that other version of you. Maybe Aradia would be more to his tastes? Oh, wait she got killed by your other apprentice. Too bad."
Shame crashed through the Handmaid's body as she looked at her lap.
"Oh bless you, do you actually like him? He's probably knocking you off his checklist as we speak. Another Megido fucked," the Condesce said with an almost sympathetic expression. "Maybe you should have a glass too. We've all been there."
Though it was likely a trap, the Handmaid took the pint glass of potent alcohol and took a deep sip. She felt vulnerable, humiliated, and against her better judgement she responded. "You have?"
"Oh yes, yes. Though of course I'm way ahead of him," At the Handmaid's confused look, the Condesce sipped her drink and added, "You see, I fucked over your alternate self, Damara. I got that feisty Serket girl to fuck over Aradia, and now I've fucked over you as well. You should have seen your face, oh! What, did you think I'd invited you here for a little girls night chat of our conquests?"
The sea witch began to cackle again, slamming her fists on the table in merriment.
"Fuck! I can't even remember why I called you here!" she wiped tears of laughter from her face, while checking her schedule. "Ah, that was it. Be a dear and put that collar on, some new refugees have arrived and they need scaring into shape again. Careful of all those hickeys now."