Summary: Maki and Nico are in hiding while Nico heals.
Maki had hoped to take Nico back to her family, but the injuries were too severe. Putting Nico on a sled and pulling her until they found a hidden valley had taken most of Maki's strength. And now they rested. Maki had surprised herself by building a small lean to shelter. She'd mastered fire without magic by now, but carving a crude shelter out of trees was a skill she learned as she did it.
It was a stormy valley, clouds and mist hiding it from view with a small cave under a waterfall where Maki left Nico while she built, alone, under the cooling stars and through the burning sun. She'd never been alone, not really, bustle had been surrounding her for as many years as she could remember. Bustle and everyone knowing every detail of her actions. Now, when Maki sliced a hand because her aim was off and her ax slipped, it was a private lesson, a pain to keep to herself. Nico might ask about the scar, sometime, when she had energy for more than eating and sleeping, but maybe Maki would keep the details to herself, as maybe she would keep the count of stars that filled the sky a silent joy, never speaking the number out loud. And as she learned to sing without magic, birds joined in to be playful, not because they were compelled.
Many many seasons passed before Maki felt lonely. And by then, Nico could walk around the outside of the small hut Maki had raised, and rest in the sun, listening to the songs Maki was learning from the birds that nested near their home.
One night, sitting next to the fire, Maki asked a quiet question, "How long did the lonely take for you?"
The fire made more noise than Nico while the moon set, and then in a rush, Nico answered, "My Mama took my siblings and there was no one. There's been no one."
Maki had been lonely for a few days now; Nico had been alone for centuries. Maki now had a dream.
"We'll have a family." Maki decided.
Nico tilted her head, "Nico thanks you for saving her life, and building this and…" Nico paused, "but we're not my Mama and Papa."
"You make me smile."
And Maki did, with a gleam nearer sun bright than moon light that Nico forced herself to look away from, wrapping the blanket tighter, not in the mood to explain the complications of love to this demanding goddess by her fire, "Sing for Nico."
Maki moved closer, "Share the blanket."
"Sneaky." Nico chided, but she opened her arms. Maki leaned, her head on Nico's shoulder, humming a gentle tune that resonated in Nico's bones, Maki seemingly pleased by the simplest contact.
Maybe there wasn't much for Nico to explain.
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Nico was frustrated. She'd healed before, but never with as attentive an audience and never from wounds this deep or damaging. Clothes had to be the lightest fabrics. Maki had been gone for weeks to find them and then returned and discovered Nico was still not very mobile. But in Nico's opinion, she was mobile enough to move on. Solo valley life was not a joy for Nico.
Power itched at Nico. Hers was not healing magic. It was power meant to be noticed. Power that could move mountains and clouds and winds. Power that could stomp challenges heard half a world away. Power impossible to ignore. And here was Nico, skulking in a valley, waiting. Waiting, hiding, these were not for Nico.
Maki had been back for a day. The night before had been stranger, more stand offish than usual, both snarling at each other. Nico had slept outside, stubbornly, while Maki had stayed awake by the fire for longer than Nico could manage to keep her eyes open. And when Nico woke in the morning, another blanket was covering her and Maki was gone again. Maki got to leave and go wherever, while Nico had to sit and feel powerless. Nico threw off the blankets, air sparking around her, power building. If Nico couldn't heal herself faster, she could at least let the world know she was still here, still a factor, still a guardian for the least.
Maki was sprinting, a blur, racing toward Nico as Nico raised her hands. Before Nico could react, Maki had leapt, tackling her, Nico on top of the blankets, Maki staring down at her with an urgent, desperate plea spilling out in amethyst tears.
"Nico, don't."
"Let me up." Nico shoved, surprised that Maki didn't fight her as they rolled to the right, Nico glaring, her hands shoving Maki's shoulders down, one of Maki's legs trapped between hers.
"Please, Nico. They'll know." Maki pleaded, her hands gripping Nico's.
"Is that why you haven't been using song magic?"
Maki nodded.
"You can sing anyway, without power, but Nico can't do anything."
"You can heal. You have to heal, Nico." Maki sounded frightened, still crying.
"Why do you care? Why do you leave?"
"You need things. We need things."
"Why do you care?" Nico asked again. Maki's eyes were all Nico saw, eyelashes dark with tears, each flick burnishing the gem shards, lashes almost brushing Nico's skin. It took Nico too long to realize it was because Nico had been drawn that much closer. Nico raised a hand, her fingers stroking Maki's cheek, feeling the proof of tears. Not magic either, no illusion. Maki's tongue tip licked out and Nico's fingers were now tangled in red strands of hair, the softness a tether.
Maki looked away, her hands dropping to the side. "I don't."
Nico's hand was right there, guiding Maki's chin back, Nico's weight pressing forward. Maki shifted, uncomfortable, but didn't roll free.
"You do. Why do you go away?"
Maki growled and her hand brushed across Nico's, quick, clumsy, clutched Nico's shoulder to pull herself up, the hard smash of lips splintering across Nico's. A kiss that split with so much force, so little finesse or control that every thought dashed out of Nico's mind and there was only action left, pushing Maki back, one hand on Maki's waist to guide.
"Nico?" Barely heard wonder.
Nico's next kisses were light, a series of the softest brushes, and Maki surged up, with an unspoken demand for more, more kisses, more pressure, more depth, more Nico. Maki's mouth, carved out of peerless perfection, her movements, crashed out of storm crescendos, called Nico, without magic, without words, the responses scored in Nico's instincts, her gestures oaths. Now this, this was music beyond even Maki's magic, a bond beyond breaking, a language only they knew, signals, vows, and whispers. No power beyond the simple attraction between them, no world but theirs, everything known and understood in an instant.
The storm raged for a century, or so the legends say.
A/N: Thanks to AaronMizuno for this prompt. I like how this turned out.
Take care. Hope your August ends well.