Luxe Aeterna
When Tecna summoned everyone to Musa's room that next weekend, Musa had one thought on her mind: This could not be good.
It was strange enough that it was her room that was being used for this impromptu meeting. Even stranger that it was Tecna calling it. Tecna never had anything to say; she was very mum. That's what Musa liked best about her. Which made Musa worried, because if something alarmed Tecna enough to want to talk to someone about it, it had to be serious.
Dragon, she could not take another crisis. Musa made it very clear once she moved to Melody that was she was out. That she would always cherish the memories, but the Winx Club was a thing of the past, and they needed to find someone else to fight these battles. She had too much responsibility to play the hero, and -
Musa's mental rant was cut off mid-sentence.
Apparently there was no emergency at all. Tecna simply stood in front of the doors to Musa's suite with a grin that could rival the cat from that trippy Earth cartoon movie Bloom made them all watch once. The rest of the girls stood in a semi-circle around Tecna, looking just as confused as Musa was.
"What's going on?" Musa asked as she approached. Everyone seemed to be staring at her for answers even though they were all here on Tecna's behest.
"Everyone, close your eyes," Tecna instructed.
All she got in reply was a bunch of blank stared and heavy blinks.
"Wait, you're serious?" Stella asked, the first to shake her stupor.
"Quite," Tecna replied, not amused. Her purple lips had pulled down into a frown. Clearly this was not how she envisioned things going down. "Now, if you will all please cover your eyes."
Everyone obeyed this time, creating a single-file line inside Musa's suite with Musa being the last to enter. She really hoped that she was not about to come face to face with a surprise renovation. Musa liked her suite how it was, even with Riven's knick knacks cluttering the place.
"Alright, open your eyes."
Musa opened her eyes to see her living room decorated with festive garlands and balloons, confetti sprinkling the table and a small stack of presents waiting nearby. A banner taped to the wall read 'same dick forever' while the TV was playing a slide show of photos of Musa at various stages in her life. A small cake in the shape of a penis was sat on the table beside the presents, along with a few hors d'oeuvres and a mimosa bar. It was a strange mix of tacky and classy that Musa had no idea how to process.
"I believe it is tradition to throw the bride-to-be a party before her wedding day."
"This is...very sweet, Tec," Musa said, surveying her little party. "Thank you."
"Do not thank me yet. The party has just begun," Tecna replied, walking over and switching on the sound system. Musa was expecting something with a heavy beat that everyone could dance to; she was surprised to get smooth jazz. Paired with the decor, it felt like Musa was sitting in a fancy, penis-themed lobby.
Everyone took a seat on the assorted couches and chairs while Tecna passed out mimosas to everyone except the pregnant Flora. It was a little too late in the day to drink something so light (Musa was hoping for something harder to calm her nerves) but everyone smiled politely as they took their drink. If anyone noticed as Musa gulped half of hers down in one go, no one said anything.
Once drinks were dispersed and the mood successfully stilted, Tecna stood in front of the group and clapped her hands together.
"Now, I read that there are usually games played at these functions that help the bride connect with her assorted group of maids." Tecna reached into the bag she had brought and displayed a stack of papers so thick it could be considered a novel. "So, who would like to complete a randomized quiz containing questions about Musa's childhood? Since we already know each other so well this should go swimmingly."
"I'll pass," Stella sighed with a roll of her eyes. Her mimosa was already empty, and she was reaching for the champagne for a refill. So much for trying to get pregnant. Maybe that was why she was in such a crabby mood: she was forced to hang out with her friends instead of fucking her husband for babies.
"Are there any other games?" Flora asked, ever the optimist.
As much as Musa desperately prayed that there weren't, Tecna had come prepared. Her bag was full of more trivia games about Musa, a drinking game that would make them watch and wait for certain moments to happen from a few of Musa's favorite movies, and something that including pinning a penis on a paper man while blindfolded.
That last one seemed promising, but they never got the chance to tape the paper man up before another knock came at the door.
A brief flash of panic surged through Musa at the thought of someone walking in on all...this. It was hardly dignified, and if that intruder happened to one of the higher ladies of court, or one of her fellow council members, then Musa would be the talk of the palace for at least the next month. Snide comments and glib jibes were the last things Musa needed on top of all her current stress, and her job required her to be taken seriously. Imagine, the Guardian Fairy of Melody holding court in a room full of dicks. No one would ever let her live that one down.
Stella, however, had no problem skipping over to the door, now a bit cheerier with four mimosas coursing through her veins, and throwing it open.
Two men stood in the doorway, both dressed like Melodian peace officers: red leather uniforms pressed and incredibly tight. Now, come to think of it, their uniforms were definitely not leather, more like a sustainable fiber blend. And they definitely were not cut with a low vee in the front, nor did they cling so close to the ass. And why were two officers standing at her personal suite doorstep anyway?
Suspicion and creeping dread settled in Musa's stomach, especially when she caught the faux-innocent look on Stella's face as she escorted the two men inside.
"Strippers? Are you fucking kidding me?" Musa asked, astonished. Was she living in a parallel dimension, or had she truly lost her mind?
"Do you like them?" Stella asked, beaming like the cat who ate the canary, completely unashamed "I thought we could all use a little something-something to release some tension." Then, she turned to the two men and gestured to the open space. Everyone was too shocked at the turn of events to stop them. "Make yourselves at home, gentlemen. We are looking forward to the show."
Stella reached out and stroked over one of the men's chests, who replied with a wolfish grin. It was such a disgusting display, especially from someone as self-professed in love as Stella. She snapped her fingers and the music changed from jazz to club, the beat thumping so loudly Musa could feel it in her chest. When the men started to dance, and everyone except for Tecna was egging the strippers on, was when Musa finally snapped.
"Have you lost your mind!"
"Hey! Be grateful!" Stella insisted, smacking Musa on the wrist with a couple of bills she was using to line the strippers' costumes. "You should be thanking me!"
"Thanking you!" Musa repeated, her voice high and screechy with barely-contained rage. The urge to reach over and rip Stella's hair out was strong. "The whole palace is going to hear us! Do you have any idea how this will make me look?!"
"You need to loosen up!" Stella whined, hanging off of Musa like a dead weight. "All you say is 'work this' and 'work that'! You've got your head shoved so far up Galatea's ass that you don't know when to let goooooo..."
"Stella, that's rude!" Flora chided, her face flushing on Musa's behalf.
"What?" Stella asked, affronted, as if she were the one who was being attacked. "It's true! Musa never has any fun these days. I mean, look at her - she looks positively miserable! It's like she's allergic to having a good time."
"I know how to have fun, Stella," Musa huffed, feeling her blood boil under her skin. "Just because I don't get shitfaced all the time and don't brag about fucking my husband twenty-four-seven doesn't mean I have a problem."
"Maybe if you did some of those things, you wouldn't be so much of a dead weight!"
Something terrible coiled in Musa, something dark and dangerous and absolutely destructive. "You know what, I hope you never get pregnant. Because you're going to be one terrible mother."
As soon as the words left her mouth, Musa wished she could take them back. Stella reeled back as if she had been slapped. Her amber eyes flooded with tears, and it was her turn for her cheeks to burn red.
"Fuck you Musa," she spat and ran off, sobbing into the bathroom and slamming the door.
Even though the music was pounding in her ears, Musa thought the room was far too silent. The men danced on - that was what they were being paid to do, after all - but everyone had heard what had gone down, her supposed friends staring at her with a mix of shock and pity. Bloom followed after Stella, always the obedient bestie. Musa could have been sick.
"I need a drink," Musa muttered to herself, stepping away from the wreckage of that particular relationship.
She bypassed the mimosa materials altogether, headed for her personal liquor stash. It was in her bedroom, the only untouched part of the suite. She slammed the door shut and locked it. From there, she pulled out a handle of gin from underneath the nightstand and took a swig straight from the bottle. It burned all the way down, but it did the trick. Within moments, she started feeling numb. Perfect.
"Are you alright?" Tecna asked. Musa couldn't even be mad at Tecna for breaking past the lock, not that Musa had tried too hard to keep people out. She could have spelled the door, but she didn't. Of course Tecna would be the only one to make sure Musa was okay. No one else gave a shit about the girl who had wished infertility upon her supposed friend.
"Peachy," Musa replied, her voice cracking. She hid that behind another swig of liquor. "You want some?"
"No, thank you."
That was fine. Musa was perfectly content to drink by herself. She had been doing it for quite a while now.
"What am I doing, Tecna?"
"Drowning your guilt?"
"I meant here, at this party, getting married," Musa clarified, feeling a shiver run up her spine at the word married. It still scared her to no end. "Am I making the right choice? Do you think Riven is the right choice?"
"I will confess, I was shocked when you told us of your engagement. I always thought that your relationship was founded on a thin foundation, always prone to blowing up at your feet. You always took the fallout worse than he did. And then...he just left. Without a word. And you were forced to go on," Tecna recollected their relationship with devastating accuracy. It almost hurt, how her words cut straight to the core. "I thought you had moved to a different stage of your life. I did not know how much of you was still attached to the past."
"Do you think that's what I am? Holding on to the past?"
"I cannot say. I am not in this relationship," Tecna sighed and looked at Musa, really looked at her. "I just know that if Timmy and I had been half the couple that you and Riven were and ended even a fraction as poorly, I would have to think twice, and I mean truly think, before I committed my life to him."
They sat in silence for a bit, Musa drinking and mulling on Tecna's words. She was right, of course. Musa hadn't thought this all through. It had happened so fast, and sometimes it still didn't feel real. Sometimes her life as it was before the war, all those years in Alfea, felt like it had happened to a different person. And she was a different person now, wasn't she? People didn't go through the kinds of things she went through and remain the same.
The real questions was: did this new her want the same things - the same people - as the old her did?
Tecna heaved a sigh, and actually reached for the bottle. Musa handed it over wordlessly, letting her oldest and dearest friend take an impressive sip.
"But what do I know? I have only ever dated the same man my whole life, and am blessed that said relationship has been easy, all things considered," Tecna let out a tiny laugh, tracing over the faint scars on her arms that Musa knew could only be from Omega. Tecna had never talked about her time there, not even now when the wounds were over a decade old. "Riven seems like he has changed, mellowed. If he makes you happy, then I believe that is something worth pursuing. Just be sure that you are certain before you commit yourself to marriage. It is perfectly acceptable to say no."
Except it isn't, Musa wanted to say but bit her tongue. It was easy to back out, to change one's mind, to say no when one did not belong to an upper class as strict and as involved as Melody's.
Tecna was trying to help. Musa was going to let her think it worked.
"Thanks Tec. For everything."
"Of course," Tecna said and nodded her head. "What are friends for?"
Tecna got up and walked to the door.
"I'm sorry about the party," Musa apologized before Tecna could slip away. "I didn't know what Stella had planned."
Tecna smiled thinly, something old and tired lining taut lips. "I suppose some things never change."
Musa nodded and Tecna slipped from the room, letting in a burst of heavy music as she left, reminding Musa of the mess that waited for her outside the shelter of her bedroom. But her bedroom was not much of a shelter. It was her least favorite place in her suite, if only because the bed smelled like Riven, and Riven was the last person she wanted on her mind right now. Her mind was already congested with conflicting thoughts of him. She didn't need any more.
Getting up and taking the bottle with her, Musa took the service exit out of her bedroom. It was the same one the maids took when they thought they were being sly, hidden behind a shelf in her vast walk-in closet. As far as they knew, Musa had no idea it existed. She had not even thought to use it before now, gently pushing on the swing door that led to a dimly-lit stone corridor. Musa did not want to know how many times these specific paths had been used to spy; knowing the Melodian court, the answer was far too many times to count. Now, they served Musa well as an escape to the palace beyond.
This specific exit led to a small hall, the door disguised by blending perfectly into the ornate pattern of the walls. Musa knew where she was immediately: just off the main hall around the corner to her suite. Except, around this bend lied the path to Nabu's suite.
Was he still here? He had to be, seeing as though his wife was currently enjoying the strippers in Musa's suite. Even if he didn't want to be with Aisha, or fuck her, he would not leave without her. They all had appearances to keep up.
Still, a lingering urge to follow that path tugged at Musa, drawing her further down the hall. Musa blamed it on the alcohol, lowering her inhibitions and making it all too easy to give into her worst impulses. This was one of the worst nights of her life and she just wanted something, someone, to make it better.
Musa knocked on his door, the same unassuming door as any other, and her anxiety surged with a vengeance.
What was she doing? Oh by the Dragon, what was she doing?! This was wrong! This was so, so wrong, and anyone could pass by right now and see her - intoxicated, miserable, and knocking on another man's door. The rumors would be vicious. They would tear her apart, everything she worked for, everything she had ever wanted...but everything she wanted lied behind that door, and the conflicting feelings that brought on made her head spin.
It was too much. It was all too much. And she was drunk. And she was going to be sick.
And sometime between her crippling nausea and blacking out, the door opened. It was a shame she never saw who it was.
Musa woke up in her own bed late the next morning with the worst headache.
She didn't remember climbing into bed or tucking herself in or leaving out a glass of water with two pain killers by her nightstand. In fact, she did not remember anything past yelling at Stella and knocking back enough gin to kill a horse. She did remember what made her want to drink all that gin in the first place, and even the memories of the bachelorette party from hell were enough to make her want to start drinking again.
There was something lying next to the glass of water: a single purple orchid. Its petals were soft to the touch, the stem fresh and green. Whoever plucked it picked one in perfect bloom. It made her smile, and her headache dulled just a bit.
Musa got out of bed and pulled on her robe. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. It was not as terrible as she thought it might be, though her hair was particularly wild. Briefly, she thought about cutting it short like it was back when she first started at Alfea. Then, she turned from the mirror and walked into the living room.
The room was completely clean, not a single remnant of the bachelorette remaining. It was as if the party had never happened at all.
Instead of strippers standing on the table, Riven was seated at it. From the looks of it, he had been there for quite some time, his breakfast plate half-picked at and cold. One of the maids poured him a fresh cup of coffee, but quickly scampered off as soon as Musa sat to join him.
"How was your party?" Riven asked, though his nose was buried in today's paper.
"Fine," she lied, putting some fruit onto her plate. "Tecna arranged a girl's night. We played games. It was nice."
"Hmmmmm," Riven hummed, and Musa was sure everything she said went in one ear and out the other.
"And yours?" Musa asked, but only to be polite. He didn't care about her night, and honestly, Musa didn't care what he did with his.
"Fine," he mimicked her words, his tone dry and bored. "We ate, smoked cigars, grappled a little. Nothing special."
Just like that, conversation was exhausted.
Was this marriage? Was this what the rest of forever was going to be? Talking but no one listening?
"Thank you, for the orchid."
"What orchid?"
"The one lying on my nightstand this morning?" Musa tried to jog Riven's memory, but he just looked more perplexed.
"I didn't leave you an orchid," he dismissed, a frown pulling at his lips as he refocused on the paper. "Perhaps the staff left it for you."
Another memory surfaced, a vague one of knocking on someone's door in the middle of the night. Of strong arms catching her before she fell, hefting her back to bed, placing her gently on the mattress and pulling up the covers, concerned brown eyes making sure everything was okay before turning out the light. She thought she had been completely knocked out. Apparently not.
Musa swallowed and nodded, her breakfast turning to ash in her mouth.
"Yes, perhaps it was the staff," she agreed, knowing in her heart it was a lie.