Starlight, Firelight
Adelaide fidgeted nervously with the hem of her dress, twisting it between her fingers. She felt more on edge than she had facing down her mother’s unbridled wrath.
She sat in one of the chairs near the entry passage to the Fifth Law’s hideout. They were supposed to meet five minutes ago. Adelaide wasn’t worried about that part—Plum was always late.
She’d said yes, of course. Adelaide had planned out the date and then worked up the nerve to ask Plum. She’d seemed amused that Adelaide was even nervous to ask, considering their history, and had accepted the invitation with a grin and a kiss on the cheek. Adelaide couldn’t have asked for it to go better.
No, she wasn’t worried about Plum not showing up. She knew she would—if nothing else, that girl kept her promises, and Adelaide knew she’d come. The question was just whether she would be five minutes late or twenty-five.
Adelaide was more nervous about what would happen when Plum did show up.
It went without saying that Adelaide had not done anything like this before. Yes, she’d never been on a proper date—and for her first to be with Plum!—but this was also to be her first time properly out in public as Adelaide.
She’d dressed for the occasion, at least. Minerva had altered a dress for her to wear from Glorious Garments, and refused Adelaide’s offer to pay for it. It was a flowy, lacy thing, with a bodice almost more like a shawl than that of a typical dress. The skirts flowed out around her feet, but it cinched inwards at the waist. Minerva had felt it would accentuate Adelaide’s best features, and when she’d tried it on she’d had to agree. Even the color, a subtle, pale orange, seemed to highlight Adelaide’s skin tone in a way she’d not thought could be done.
She’d also done a full face of makeup, wearing it outside of her chambers for the first time in her life. She’d spent so long honing that skill, and to finally put it to use felt liberating. She’d given up on wrangling her hair, though, and simply wore it down and brushed to a smooth shine.
She felt… good about her appearance. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like that outside of the privacy of Plum’s company—perhaps it had never happened. She felt like herself in a way she’d never truly experienced before.
And yet, she was still so anxious that she could hardly breathe evenly.
Her life seemed as though it were brightening, lately. She’d found a people, a community; she’d stepped into the light and was able to be herself; and she was about to go on a date with the woman she loved. She should be happy, shouldn’t she? Or at least content? This was all she’d thought she’d ever wanted.
Instead, she couldn’t help but anticipate the moment it all collapsed. Something would go wrong—something always did. It was only a matter of time before this momentary joy was stolen from her, just as it always was.
She sighed, and pulled on the hem of her dress even tighter. What if something happened to Plum? Or Willam, or Theoderic? Even Liana or Caliburn would devastate her if they got hurt, or worse. Or, what if the Magisterium or Radiant soldiers tracked them down? What if her mother found where she’d gone? It was only a matter of time until something happened.
Adelaide shook herself from her thoughts as she heard the familiar click-clack of high heels approaching her. She took a breath and stood, willing herself to calm and forget her worries, at least for now. She turned towards the doorway to greet Plum-
And froze, awestruck.
Plum wore a dazzling dress, characteristically in a vibrant, eye-popping red. It clung to her tightly, accentuating all the right places to draw the eye. It was low-cut enough that Plum almost threatened to spill out of it, and it had a slit up her left leg to expose part of her thigh. Most notable, perhaps, was that the sleeves were also asymmetrical. Her right arm, the one painted in scars, was completely exposed to the shoulder. Her left was covered by a sleeve that reached past her elbow. She’d finished the look with wicked-looking high heels and a smattering of silvery jewelry, and her makeup was immaculate. A part of Adelaide idly wondered if she’d done it herself.
The greater part of her, though, was dumbstruck. She thought it a certainty that nothing in the entire universe, bright or dark, could ever be as beautiful as the woman standing before her.
“Wow,” Adelaide gasped, breathless. “Plum, you look beautiful!” She immediately felt foolish for such a cliché reaction.
Plum rolled her eyes, but she grinned at Adelaide and stepped to her side. She laced her fingers through Adelaide’s and met her eyes, still grinning.
“You are too, love,” she replied softly, and leaned down to plant a kiss on Adelaide’s cheek. “Beautiful,” she murmured in Adelaide’s ear.
Adelaide felt a chill run down her spine. The hair on her arms stood on end as gooseflesh pimpled her body. She felt her heat rise, and tried futilely to stammer out a response.
Plum smirked and took a step forward. She glanced back at Adelaide, arm outstretched to still hold hers.
“Shall we?”
The walk to the restaurant Laszlo had recommended took less than 15 minutes. It was a small, unassuming building, dwarfed by the nearby derelict clock tower. The restaurant was named “the Silver Spoon,” which Adelaide had to admit was a clever name.
The Silver Spoon was nearly empty when Adelaide and Plum walked in. There were a few other pairs of people scattered about, and behind the bar was a young woman who Adelaide took for the host. The girl smiled at the two and gestured for them to take a table.
They chose a small table by one of the tall windows. The window afforded them a surprisingly good view of the city: they looked out over a district that must have been built in a valley. Adelaide made to pull Plum’s chair out for her, but Plum swatted her hand away and pulled out hers, instead. Adelaide sat, flustered at the reversal of roles.
Plum sat across from her and smiled brilliantly. The girl from behind the bar brought them a menu, which also included pictures in case the restaurant’s patrons were unable to read. Adelaide pretended not to be flustered by letting herself become absorbed in perusing the menu.
“Should we get wine?” Plum mused, more to herself than to Adelaide. “I want wine.”
Adelaide nodded. “Sure, wine sounds good.”
Plum arched an eyebrow. “Since when do you drink wine?” she asked.
“I drink sometimes!” Adelaide answered defensively, playfully swatting at Plum’s hand. “Besides, ‘tis a special occasion.”
“Oh? Is it now?”
“Of course,” Adelaide replied, smiling. “‘Tis the start of the next chapter of our story.”
Plum’s cheeks colored, just slightly. Adelaide felt a rush of something adjacent to pride.
“So,” Plum said, pursing her lips in mock-distaste. “Wine.”
Adelaide laughed. “Wine,” she agreed.
“-and then he spilled it all over that perfect white tunic!” Plum finished.
Adelaide was doubled over in her seat, laughing so hard that her stomach had begun to hurt. She gasped for breath, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
“Oh, Radiance,” she forced out through her laughter. “And he deserved it!”
“He so deserved it,” Plum agreed, grinning. She drained the last dregs of her wine glass. It somehow still came away with a lipstick mark on the rim.
Adelaide gradually regained control of her body, and lifted her head up to beam at Plum. The scraps of their dinner and dessert lay on the table before them, along with two now-empty bottles of rich red wine. Adelaide had lost count of how many glasses she’d had at four.
“This is wonderful, Plum,” she said, still beaming. “You are wonderful.”
Plum grinned back, and Adelaide felt her heart beat faster. “You are wonderful, too,” she said, leaning in closer. Adelaide leaned in to meet her, and they got close enough that Adelaide could smell the wine on her breath.
Adelaide leaned back and reached across the table to grab Plum’s hand.
“Can I show you something?” she asked.
Plum arched an eyebrow. “Of course. Here?”
Adelaide shook her head. “No, somewhere else. C’mon,” she said, standing.
“Wait, Adelaide,” Plum said, pulling her back with a laugh. “We still have to pay.”
“Oh, right,” Adelaide said, letting herself be pulled towards Plum. She stumbled drunkenly, and felt herself begin to tip forward. Before she could even react, she’d fallen forward on top of Plum. She’d somehow twisted around so she functionally sat on Plum’s lap. She looked up at her date and met her eyes.
“If you wanted to sit on my lap,” Plum purred. “You could have just asked.”
Adelaide giggled, too inebriated to be truly flustered. Her eyes flicked down to Plum’s lips. She still remembered how she tasted, and longed to taste her again. She found herself transfixed by the shape of Plum’s lips, the way they curved and the painted red skin…
Before she realized what she was doing, Adelaide had closed the gap and kissed Plum. Through the haze of alcohol, she was dimly aware that this was the first time that she had kissed her. She was too lost in the kiss to care.
She kissed her long, and deeply. Her arms snaked around her lover’s neck, and she felt Plum’s arms wrap around her waist. The restaurant seemed to fall away—Adelaide’s entire universe was here.
After an eternity of a moment, Adelaide pulled back. Her breath came short, and her heart hammered against her ribs. Plum’s cheeks were colored, and Adelaide guessed that hers were probably far worse.
Adelaide grinned breathlessly. “You are mine,” she said softly, almost a whisper. “And I am yours.”
Plum smiled back and ran a finger down her spine. “Forever and a day,” she answered.
They stayed like that for a moment before Adelaide lurched to her feet. She dug in her purse for coin and tossed it on the table.
“C’mon,” she said to Plum, insistently. “They can keep the change.”
She pulled Plum to her feet and out of the restaurant, barely taking the time to put on their shawls as protection against the cooling night. She dragged Plum to the bottom of the derelict clock tower. Following Laszlo’s instructions, she found the gap in the wall and squeezed through, still pulling Plum along by the hand.
“Where are we going, Addie?” Plum asked, laughing.
“Just trust me, Plum,” Adelaide answered. “I’ve a plan.”
“I always trust you,” Plum said, and Adelaide rolled her eyes, still grinning.
They made their way up the spiraling staircase to the top of the clock tower and onto the balcony. Plum gasped as they stepped out onto the platform.
The view was marvelous. They could see the entire city stretched out below them, thousands of flickering lights illuminating the dark night. The stars twinkled gently far above, and the distant Umbra breathed down its soft silver light. The cool night air whistled softly by, carrying with it the scents of distant soil and petrichor. Adelaide breathed in deeply, and then let out a contented sigh.
“‘Tis beautiful, Addie,” Plum murmured, lacing her fingers through Adelaide’s.
“Oh! Wait!” Adelaide said, reaching to her waist for her wand. “I have a spell…”
Plum stood back a few steps, giving her the space to work. She watched intently as Adelaide drew her wand and held it in third position. Adelaide concentrated and drew the sigil she’d practiced for hours with Laszlo. She took her time, focusing more on accuracy than speed. She carefully closed the circle, and there was a pulse of yellow mana being drawn. Plum visibly shivered, and even from here Adelaide could see the gooseflesh prickle her arm.
Adelaide closed her eyes and breathed out as she loosed the spell, and there was a rush of air far greater than what she’d let out. There was a swelling of light, and Plum gasped again.
Adelaide opened her eyes and felt a surge of relief as she noticed the sky.
The stars were brilliant. They seemed to have at least tripled in number, and that was before taking into account the ones that were visible in what should have been the Darklands. They were bright enough that Adelaide could see them reflecting in Plum’s eyes. She was lit by starlight from above, and by firelight from below.
Adelaide amended her earlier thought. Now Plum was the most beautiful thing in the universe.
She turned to Plum, and took her hand in her own.
“Plum,” she said, stepping closer. “I… have something to tell you.”
“You can tell me anything, Addie,” Plum answered, slipping her other hand around Adelaide’s neck and pulling her close. Their faces were nearly touching.
Adelaide hesitated for only a moment. She wrapped her other arm around Plum’s waist and kissed her again, even more deeply than before.
After another momentary eternity, she pulled away and looked Plum in the eyes.
“I love you, Plumeria Delora,” she said softly. She felt Plum react instantly, a stiffening in her back and a tightening of the grip on her hand, but she couldn’t stop herself from finishing her thought. “I have always loved you. All this time, all our lives. ‘Tis you, Plum. ‘Tis always been you.”
Plum was silent for a moment. Her mouth opened and closed, once, and then twice.
“You do not have to say it back,” Adelaide hurried to add. “I know that may be… a lot, with everything else going on right now.” She thought briefly of her mother. “I just needed you to know that,” she finished lamely.
“Adelaide, I-” Plum began to respond, but Adelaide cut her off.
“Truly, ‘tis okay if you are not ready, I will-”
“I love you, too,” Plum cut her off. “By the Saints, you foolish girl, I love you, too,” she said, and kissed her.
Adelaide felt as though she were flying. Her head felt light and empty, as though she had a fever. If she weren’t leaning so hard against Plum’s body, she thought she may have swooned. She was distantly aware of her own hand letting go of Plum’s and looping around the other side of her waist, pulling her closer. Plum’s other hand tangled itself in the back of Adelaide’s hair, clutching at her desperately, hungrily.
Still kissing her, Adelaide slid her hand up Plum’s back, and she felt the laces of her dress’s bodice under her fingers. She was acutely aware of every inch of where Plum’s body pressed against hers. She fingered the lace delicately, hesitantly, as Plum kiss grew even more insistent. Adelaide made a snap decision, and pulled the lace free of its binding.
Some unknown amount of time later, Adelaide and Plum lay together, at the top of the derelict clocktower, on the pile of their discarded clothes. Adelaide lay with her head on Plum’s bare chest, listening to the sounds of her heartbeat and the blood rushing through her body. The magically enhanced starlight still twinkled above them, fading but still glowing. Adelaide reached out with her hand and found Plum’s, lacing her fingers through it.
Plum murmured something, and Adelaide lifted her head to rest her chin on Plum’s chest, looking upwards to meet her eyes.
“Hm?” Adelaide asked.
“Nothing. Nevermind.”
Adelaide frowned. “Plum,” she said, sternly. “Talk to me.” Plum looked away.
Adelaide forced herself upright. The cool night air made her skin prickle with gooseflesh, and she shivered involuntarily.
Plum sat up too, heaving a deep sigh. “No,” she said softly, and then, louder: “No, you are right, Addie. I…” Still, she hesitated. “I told myself not to ruin this too.”
Adelaide reached out and took Plum’s hand. “What do you mean?”
Plum was silent for a few moments. “Addie,” she said eventually. “Can you promise me something?”
“What is it?”
Plum hesitated again. “Do not let me push you away,” she said.
“How could you ever push me away?”
Plum sighed, and pulled away so that she could turn and face Adelaide. Adelaide kept tight hold of her hand.
“I have a habit of…” she trailed off and wrenched her face, restarting her thought. “When aught is going well, I find myself trying to escape it. ‘Tis like… I expect it to fall apart, and so I find reasons to make her want to leave. That way I can at least say that it was my choice.” As she spoke, she used her free hand to pick her shawl from the pile of clothes and wrap it around her shoulders. She shrank inwards as the fabric enveloped her.
Adelaide nodded slowly. “Is that what happened with Millie?” she asked softly.
Plum winced, and looked away. “No, Millie was… different.”
“What happened with her, Plum? I’ve not pried, but at this point I think I ought to know.”
Plum nodded, hesitant, and then sighed. “‘Twas never meant to be serious with her, truly. She was… just a way to distract myself. I did not want to think about what Laszlo showed us, so I threw myself into the arms of the first pretty girl who showed interest.” Her eyes darted to Adelaide, and then away again.
“I did not love her,” she said. “To be honest, I hardly knew her. But I liked her, and she threw me aside like it had never meant anything. Like I had never meant anything.”
“Like you were planning to do to her?” Adelaide asked. She hadn’t meant it to be a condemnation, but she couldn’t keep a hint of derision out of her voice.
She immediately regretted it as Plum flinched. She pulled her hand back and her knees up, wrapping her arms around her folded legs.
“Yes,” she answered softly. “Like I was planning to do to her.”
Both were silent for a few moments. Adelaide opened her mouth to say something, and then changed her mind.
“I am sorry she hurt you,” she said instead. “But why did you not talk to me about it?”
Plum shrugged, as much as she could with the way her body was folded on itself. “You had enough to worry about without adding my foolish decisions on top of it,” she answered. “And… I knew how you felt about her. About… about me.” She turned her head to look directly away from Adelaide.
Adelaide nodded, though she knew Plum wouldn’t see it. “I suppose ‘tis not as though I were subtle,” she said with a small, humourless laugh. Plum huffed in response, almost but not quite a laugh.
“You still could have talked to me,” Adelaide said. “Plum, I want to be there for you.” She reached out to put a hand on Plum’s arm. Plum barely reacted.
“I know,” she answered quietly.
“Plum, I have loved you for longer than I know,” Adelaide continued. “‘Twill not be easy for you to get rid of me.” She smirked a little. “But I need you to talk to me. Half of the time, I’ve no idea what you are feeling. By the dark, Plum, you killed someone, and we’ve not even spoken of it since the Hold!”
Plum shot a dark glance at Adelaide.
“What?” she began. Adelaide could already hear the faint edge of anger to her voice. “Do you expect me to whinge about it?” Plum continued with a scoff. “I killed her, and I would do it again without a moment’s hesitation.”
“Does that not bother you at all?” Adelaide could feel her own temper rising. “Do you not feel bad at all for the life you ended?”
“She hurt you, Adelaide! She was going to take you to your mother!”
“And so you killed her?”
“Yes! Adelaide, I love you, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I would kill for you again in a heartbeat!”
“I do not want you to kill anyone!” Adelaide shouted. “I do not want anyone to have to die!”
“We do not always have that luxury, Adelaide! If you truly wish to make this light-forsaken world any better, people are going to have to get hurt and worse.”
Adelaide took a breath, trying to calm herself. “I know that,” she said, measured. “But why must it be you?”
“Because it will not be you,” Plum answered, soft enough that it was almost a whisper. “And I will not let them hurt you.”
Adelaide did not respond. She let her eyes drift upwards to the stars. By now, her spell had worn off, and the stars were back to their usual number and brightness. Adelaide shivered as a cold breeze danced past her bare skin.
Plum still sat with her legs to her chest. She looked downwards at the city, motionless. The distant, flickering firelight danced on her bare legs. Adelaide ached to pull her into her arms again, to kiss her and forget about all of this.
Abruptly, Plum stood. She glanced down at Adelaide, and then away.
“We should get back,” she said, her voice flat. “‘Tis getting late.”
Adelaide felt a small piece of her heart break. “Yes. I suppose we should.”
She sat for another moment, looking up at the dim, distant stars, before pulling herself to her feet.
Cambria's Corner 
Leave a comment