Archive of Our Own

The world was a trembling blur and a high, piercing ringing tone. Beau peeled her face from the crusty leaf litter and spat blood out. The muscles in her arms felt strained as she pushed herself off the ground, little shocks twitching through her biceps. It took a moment of concentration to regain awareness of her whole body, then she drew her knees up under herself and sat up, peering around blearily while her senses returned.

Her nose felt wet and cold inside in the familiar way it always did when it bled. Stranger was the same sensation in her ears. She dabbed at them with her fingertips, and sure enough, her fingers came away bloody. She could only hope the sticky dampness around her eyes wasn't more of the same. The ringing hadn't quite stopped, but she could hear her own breaths again, muffled though they were. The gray edges tunneling her vision receded, letting her examine her surroundings a little better.

She was in a thicket she couldn't remember entering. That didn't mean too much, though. It felt like the same gnarled forest the Nein had entered this morning, the trees ancient, trunks thick and twisting. They grew from towering masses of knotted root, forming tangled islands from which the earth had crumbled, leaving countless snaking ravines between. High above, the canopy filtered light until the paths below were cast in shadow, but it was much darker now than it had been when they arrived. The sun was already setting.

When Beau had the presence of mind, she tugged her goggles from her pocket and slid them on, trying to ignore the tacky sensation beneath them. A scan of her little patch of woods showed she was alone. None of the Nein were nearby, not even knocked out against a tree. She used her staff to heave herself off the ground, staggering for a moment before she got moving. She picked her way across roots as thick around as her waist, balancing on knobs and spindles that creaked beneath her weight. Navigating with shaking muscles and occasional rushes of vertigo was a pain in the ass, but she had more important things to worry about, like where her friends were.

The edge of the trees revealed a broad nexus of those winding, sunken trails they'd followed to get here. It was brighter here than it was among the trees, orange patches of sky showing between the branches overhead. Beau slid down the bank of roots and off the crumbling edge to reach the floor. When she pushed her goggles up her forehead, the dusky light was enough to see the carnage in the middle of the clearing.

The earth was blackened in broad swathes and pitted with craters from magical bombardment, but the worst part was the bodies. Torn, bloodied corpses sprawled like dolls across the ground, circling a single blackened, humanoid form, still standing somewhat erect in the center of the clearing. It didn't look charred so much as melted into bubbling tar, some pieces fused while one outstretched former-arm dripped congealed black ichor, its bones like sticks of charcoal jutting from the rest. Crystalline shards were embedded in the sludge, like something had exploded and pierced it with glimmering shrapnel.

That once-person had been a Scourger, and that Scourger had released a violent curse upon his death. The first wave had almost knocked her off her feet as something clutched at her mind, the second had her screaming in agony, the third had flung her into the trees like a ragdoll. The unscrambling of her fragmented memories, shaken loose by the sight of the battleground, was almost painful. Panicked, she scrambled around the clearing, examining the mutilated corpses for identifiers of her friends.

The recognizable bits showed the handful of bodies were mostly human, none matching the sole other human of the Mighty Nein. She could see that much through the burst eyes, bleeding orifices, and crushed skulls. They weren't here. The mage clearly hadn't given a shit what that curse could do to his allies if triggered, but then, experience told her they were just collateral damage in his eyes. More corpses to pave the Empire's road to glory or whatever. She pawed over them for anything interesting, finding a couple pendants, a few rings, a pearl that seemed to radiate its own warmth, and a scroll that was probably way more useful in Caleb's hands. Corpse-looting completed, she looked for signs of the Nein's passage, any indication that they had been here after the battle and still on their feet, but the ground was spongy and dry, and what marks did remain were the result of the fight and the curse detonation.

"Fuck!" Beau cursed loudly, her throat shredded by that singular word. She coughed and hacked up more bloody material, leaning heavily on her staff while she considered her options.

Right now, she was pretty fucked up. It had taken a ton of energy to climb down here and check the corpses, and breathing hurt. Climbing the nearby banks into the trees to search would probably kill her. Calling out would probably kill her in a slightly different manner. If they hadn't been fucking killed, the rest of the Mighty Nein would probably return to look for her, and this was an easy place to spot her if she just waited. It was also an easy place to spot her if something came sniffing around the corpses. Maybe she could hole up and rest, search when there was more light.

Something caught her eye when she turned away from the mess, a bright flicker at the edge of her vision. Instinct had her snapping around to face it, heart pounding. It was white, caught in the old, rotting bramble that lined the ravine. She hobbled after it as fast as she could manage and plucked it from the tangle. A single feather, speckled with blood.

Beau continued down the ravine, eyes flickering along the shadowy edges. A group had continued fighting the entire time they traveled this way, their numbers indiscernible, but it might have been her friends. They'd taken no care to hide their passage. The ground had been violently disturbed in places, the banked walls caved in, shards of wood blown everywhere, earth scorched by magic. She even found a hunk of bloody flesh with no discernible origin. It was still warm, which was deeply disturbing, both its temperature and the fact that Beau was desperate enough to check. Soon, she had to slide the goggles back on to see clearly, but she continued spotting white feathers on her path, some light and downy, others broad, rounded coverts. Most of them were marked with blood. In a couple places, she found spatters and dark, heavy splashes soaking into the earth. It would've been a lot for one person to lose.

The feathers led up a steep slope made by two tree islands converging, their roots forming a network padded by fallen leaves and springy vegetation. Beau sighed heavily, but continued up, careful not to put her foot through the matted surface and get it caught in the space below. A section of the litter and the structure beneath had caved in, and within the hole, another mutilated person in robes was crushed, their insides half hanging out. Beau came this close to puking, unsure how much more of the gore she could take.

The crest plateaued into a shallow bowl broken by hunks of stone. Blood pooled on the ground here and smeared the rocks, and of course, there was another godsdamned body lying in the dirt, too slim and robed to be anyone she was looking for. She paused to examine it briefly, verified a half-elven woman with a broken neck, and heard the first sounds of other people since she woke. Someone, multiple people, shouting.

Beau picked up her pace, staying light on her feet as she approached, and froze for a moment when she heard a terrified, animal shrieking over the other voices. The rest grew louder, sounds of weaponry and the crackle of magic bouncing off the stones. Abruptly, the shrieking cut off. She was close enough now to see the fight, the bodies rent and dismembered. None of the three remaining figures, standing back-to-back, were identifiable as her companions. Something large and dark circled them, pacing through shadow, and when one of the mages fired off a bolt of flame, it lunged.

The other two scattered away, and Beau saw with grim certainty what was about to happen. The pinned mage screamed as his allies attempted to turn on their attacker, but they weren't fast enough to stop the thing from literally ripping into him. With the remaining two separated, the creature snagged the slower of the pair, who hadn't gotten far enough out of reach. He was dragged down and savaged, life gurgling out of him rapidly where his throat had been torn out by teeth. The last one standing sprinted away into the darkness, and the creature followed, leaping onto her from behind with an audible snarl. Beau swallowed a gag at the wet ripping sounds that accompanied the attack, and the agonized screaming that lasted only moments.

When the figure rose to its full height, shaking itself off, Beau went perfectly still. It paced over the fallen mages, stopping at one that still whined in pain. With an unearthly howl, it grasped his head and almost removed it from his body in a single yank, sinew and bone snapping from the force. Satisfied that they were all unmoving, Yasha clambered up a crag and crouched, chest heaving.

It took several moments for Beau to come back to herself and understand what happened. Yasha, their Yasha, had just killed three people with unbelievable ease, literally tearing them apart. Even when she went into a rage, she was never so uncontrolled, so bestial. Her movements were tense and predatory, like she was waiting for more prey to step into view. For the first time, Beau actually feared her.

Uncertain, she backed away from the massacre, staring dumbly Yasha's coiled form. The earth sloped back up behind her, which was her only excuse, really, when her foot hit a loose stone and rolled out from beneath her. It split her attention for mere seconds, but when she glanced up, Yasha's eyes were fixed on her, glinting eerily in the half-light. She could run, but Yasha was at least as fast as her, and still in good enough shape to disembowel people with her bare fucking hands, apparently. Instead, she stayed motionless, praying to any god that would listen that she not die here, ripped apart by her own friend like an animal.

When Yasha leapt down from her perch and charged, Beau bolted.

"Shit," she yelped, springing up a boulder and weaving between broken chunks of stone as she ran. Everything fucking hurt, her breaths felt wet and ragged and tasted of blood, but she pushed through it out of sheer desperation and terror.

Through her own rushing blood and panting, she could hear heavy steps, scattering stones, huffing breaths from her pursuer. That wasn't fucking Yasha anymore, she told herself, breaking into the trees that framed the clearing. It broke Beau's heart to see her lost like this, but she had to live so they could fix this. If Yasha killed her, if she came out of her rage to Beau's broken body...

Beau made to leap up a tree, hoping the climb would slow her companion, and the ankle that had started this chase failed her. She cried out as it bent against a root, sending her back down the tangled bank on her belly, sharp bits of wood snagging against her skin. When she caught herself, fingers scraped raw on something jagged, a burst of triumph fueled her scramble for safety until a heavy body slammed into her from behind, punching the breath from her lungs.

"Yasha!" She sounded so painfully small and scared to her own ears, trying not to sob. "It's me, it's Beau, don't - "

She was rolled onto her back by hands sticky with blood, and one pressed to her chest, pinning her. The pressure wasn't enough to hurt, but it was threatening, shortening Beau's breaths. Yasha inspected her closely, head tilted to one side, like a curious animal. Her breaths puffed against Beau's face, blowing hot from her nose. Her pale skin was almost completely masked in red, her sclera stained by burst capillaries, and gore dripped from the ends of her hair. The tattoo on her chin was almost hidden, her lips slick from tearing out a man's throat with her teeth. When she met Beau's gaze, Beau saw nothing behind her eyes, none of the usual softness or humanity. No Yasha.

After a few moments where they regarded one another silently, she reached for Beau's face, drawing a flinch from her, but Yasha just pushed the goggles up and stared her down. Her pupils still held an odd shimmer in the dark as their eyes met. Beau blinked up at her, brainless and helpless and waiting for a sudden, violent end. This must've satisfied Yasha somehow, because she chuffed and lowered her head to snuffle wetly at Beau's hair and neck. Every drag of her skin against Beau's left clinging trails of blood behind.

"Okay... Okay," Beau muttered, a little to Yasha, a little to herself. Yasha growled at her in surprise, then settled when she realized it was only her captive making noise. "Hey, it's fine. We're good, you and me. Nothing to worry about. Other than being trapped alone with a gorgeous woman who can literally break me in half... Fuck, I definitely had a dream like this once."

Yasha watched and listened as she spoke, uncomprehending but focused. It felt a lot like speaking to a pet.

"You can't understand a word I'm saying, can you?" Beau checked, searching for any recognition. There was none. "Oh, Yash... What'd they do to you?"

As if she actually had understood, in some strange, bestial way, Yasha sank back with a groan, head lowered. She slid back down into the dirt, curling bloody fingers into the loose earth. In the darkness, she was a shadow among shadows, so Beau tugged the goggles back into place, scooting down beside her. What she saw made her suck in a breath through gritted teeth. Sure, Yasha had been a one-woman army, slaughtering those mages with her bare hands, but she'd taken a shit-ton of damage to do it, and it was catching up to her. It had been almost impossible to distinguish her wounds from the rest of the blood before. Now, Beau could see where her back had been gashed open down her ribcage, where her skin had been burned and eaten away by magic. She was pressing an odd flap of skin back into place with one filthy hand, and Beau closed her eyes, swallowing a gag.

"We really need a healer." She reached out to push heavy locks of hair off Yasha's back, pulling her hand away sharply when Yasha snarled, glistening, blood-stained teeth bared. Once she acknowledged Beau, the sound died down, and she grumbled, seeming almost sheepish. "C'mon, Yash. We can't stay here."

When Beau started walking, Yasha hurried to take the lead, ignoring her own wounds. Beau tried heading back the way they'd come, following the scuffed trail they left behind, but Yasha herded her away with irritated little huffing sounds. Fighting her on this, even if Beau hadn't felt shitty and confused, would've been a challenge. As things stood, she decided to pick her battles, and let herself be nudged in a direction. Yasha scanned their surroundings with gleaming eyes, twitching at every strange bird call in the trees. If a twig snapped too close, she puffed up and let out a warning growl, and every few minutes, she glanced back to Beau, checking that she still followed. Her powerful predator's gait became more uneven the longer they walked, until she was definitely favoring one leg.

At first, Beau thought they were wandering aimlessly, sure to get lost in this place forever. Then she wondered if Yasha knew something she hadn't. The sound of running water reached her from the trees ahead, and when they broke free of them, a stream cut through the gullies in a broad, silvery ribbon. Yasha slid down the bank, clumsy on her bad leg, and entered the water without care. She waded until it was about calf-deep, splashing experimentally, then sank down to dunk her face.

"Yasha..." Beau crouched at the edge of the stream, fighting a half-smile. "You're still dressed, dude. Not that I'm like, angling to get your clothes off... or something... Shit." She pressed her knuckles to her face, trying to pull herself together. "I mean, if you wanna wash off, like, clothes get in the way. But it's whatever, I'm not trying to take advantage of your obviously vulnerable state, you know? You can do what you want, I'm just thinking checking those wounds would be way easier if... She's not even listening."

She really wasn't. Yasha had draped herself over a couple of stones, chin resting on her forearm while she stretched her body out beneath the water. With most of the blood rinsed away, her face was moon-pale, which wasn't unusual, but that wasn't the only cause for concern. Every breath she took ended in a little whine that made Beau's heart squeeze.

"Okay. You got me and my minimal healing abilities, but I'm gonna do my best," Beau told her as she yanked off her boots. She undressed all the way to underclothes, dumping her shit in a pile where it wouldn't get wet, and dug into her satchel. Two hefty healing potions and one basic one were all she came up with, but it was better than nothing. She knocked back the basic one so she would hopefully not bleed out from some horrible internal damage.

Beau joined Yasha in the stream, dropping onto her ass in the water and hissing and cursing at the cold before she adjusted. Yasha just watched with one eye like a lazy cat. Conscious of the blood still gumming up in her eyelashes and drying beneath her nose, Beau treated herself to a very basic, one-handed face-washing. Satisfied that her eyes wouldn't be sticking every time she blinked and her ears were free of liquids of any kind, she turned back to Yasha.

"I'm gonna need you to work with me, here," she said gruffly, willing her to understand. Yasha lifted her head, curious, gaze following the two red bottles in Beau's hand. "You trust me? This'll help you feel better. Just..."

She popped the cork on one and pressed her lips to the bottle opening, tipping it back without actually consuming any. The strong herbal taste still diffused across her tongue. She offered it to Yasha, hoping she'd at least down the first one without question. The bottle looked small in Yasha's hand when she took it, sniffing at the liquid before downing it in a few heavy swallows. It took a moment before she shook her head violently and made a disgusted face as the aftertaste hit.

"You just had your mouth full of some asshole's blood, and you think this is bad?" Beau rolled her eyes and popped the other one. "Now for round two. Drink up, buttercup."

This time, Yasha fought her on it, growling and baring her teeth, which, while intimidating, seemed pretty half-hearted compared to what Beau had seen her capable of. After some totally nonsensical back-and-forth, where Beau ended up holding the bottle to Yasha's mouth while she actually pressed her lips shut to avoid it like a little kid, Beau snapped.

"Just drink it, Yasha!"

Yasha lunged up, snarling at the challenge, one hand slashing toward Beau like claws. The monk flinched and fell back on her ass, barely keeping her grip on the stupid potion. She wasn't exactly sure what her expression looked like, had kind of stopped being able to tell after the shock, but Yasha recoiled like she had been the one attacked. Her eyes were wide, and she made odd, mumbling noises that Beau thought were intended to soothe. When she lowered herself to Beau's level and held out her hand, palm up, Beau silently placed the bottle there.

"Thank you," she sighed once the potion was gone and Yasha was smacking her lips at the taste. She gave herself a very perfunctory bath, cleaning up her own cuts, and trudged out of the water, shaking off the excess. The closest thing she had to a towel was her robes. Hopefully, she didn't need to use them for warmth anytime soon.

A presence loomed at her back, and she stiffened before Yasha edged into her field of view. Where she had expected a ragged tunic and ripped pants, there was instead nothing but pale skin, broken only by stained bindings. Beau's mouth went dry as she tried to look past the swathes of muscle and sloping curves to the important parts.

"You're looking better already," she noted, carefully circling Yasha. The warrior's eyes followed her as she went.

The ugly wounds on her back were not completely healed, but they were manageable. She was able to cover them well enough with some clean wraps and a spare piece of linen from her bag. Dark splotches and twisted lines of scarring showed where other, smaller injuries had already closed. One was on the thigh of the leg she'd been favoring, so at least she would be steady on her feet again. Beau gave her a nervous, quick sort of dry-off, refusing to meet her eyes as she wiped down the rippling abs and thick thighs. It was impossible to say for sure, but Beau got the feeling she enjoyed it.

Once she was dressed, a heavy head dropped on her shoulder with a whuff and she jumped. When Yasha's cheek leaned against her, she couldn't resist reaching up to scratch gently through her hair.

"Yeah, you're welcome."

Getting Yasha back in her clothes was a chore for Beau, and a game for Yasha. It was bizarre to see her so playful, and while naked, to boot. Honestly, Beau couldn't help playing along a little. The way Yasha locked eyes with her in challenge right before she loped out of reach was... enchanting? They eventually reached a compromise wherein Beau stopped trying to get a shirt over her head and Yasha deigned to put her pants back on, which was a blessed relief for Beau's gay heart. Her boots ended up in Beau's satchel because the monk knew a losing battle when she saw one, and Yasha seemed pleased by how the earth felt under her bare feet.

It was Beau's responsibility then to get them out of the open and into a secure (or as secure as they could get in the middle of a strange environment with no wizard) place to sleep. For a place with as many odd natural formations as this forest had, it didn't have much in the way of good shelters. Most of the places she found were root-choked, too small, partly collapsed, or some combination of the three. A couple had hissing, snarling creatures in them that Yasha scared into submission. Upstream, though, she spotted a set of felled trees converged against another one of those craggy rises in elevation. Clusters of moss and opportunistic vegetation grew on the trunks, creating a sort of curtain over the shelter beneath. It looked like the best they were gonna get. It also looked like something else might live in it already.

She approached cautiously, bo at the ready, and flung a stone through the opening. Nothing happened. She waited a few moments longer, suspicious, but there was still no movement, no sound. Yasha glanced between her and the den blankly, then proceeded inside. She had to duck and squeeze a little to fit, but disappeared through the greenery nonetheless. When she peered out again, Beau slunk in behind her.

Wood rot aside, it wasn't so bad. Deeper than it looked from outside, and with more head room once you got through the opening. Roughly the same dimensions as Caleb's dome, the den sloped downward beneath the rock face, all the loose stones pushed to the edges, suggesting something had lived here at one point. Right now, though, it was dry and empty, and there weren't any ominous piles of gnawed bones.

Beau dropped her satchel on the ground, spread out her bedroll, and bunched a spare robe into a makeshift pillow. She pulled her coat over herself once she was settled, and tried to relax. She was already sore from the day's events, and it was only going to be worse tomorrow.

Yasha scuffed around quietly, examining their quarters. When her pacing stopped, Beau almost missed it, but then a warm, heavy body settled against her back. She went still as Yasha got comfortable, shifting until they were fitted neatly together, one arm draped over the monk's slim waist. A somewhat cold nose burrowed into the back of Beau's neck, snuffling and releasing hot puffs of breath.

"Hmm." It was the most Yasha-like noise she'd made since Beau found her. She couldn't help smiling.

"G'night, Yash."

By the next morning, Beau was... Well, "concerned" was putting it lightly. Panicked was probably close, but she couldn't allow herself to panic because they still needed a way out, and a way to bring Yasha back from... whatever this was. After a night of pain-interrupted sleep, she was itching for a message from Jester, anything to tell her that her friends were still alive and coming to get them.

Yasha picked up on her mood immediately, and pressed close, growling softly like she could scare away years of abandonment issues and the anxiety that came with giving a shit about people. It was soothing, in a way, to know that Yasha might not be herself, but she still had Beau's back. Spots of sunlight pierced through the leafier parts of the shelter's roof, dappling her skin and making her emerald tattoo shimmer. She was completely unselfconscious, brushing her cheek against Beau's hair, petting her back, playing with her fingers. Beau's hand was so small in Yasha's. Her hands weren't just big, she had long, dexterous fingers, each about an inch longer than Beau's when their palms were lined up. It was a strange realization to have now, that she had never noticed them. Objectively, of course, she'd seen and lusted a little at the thought of those hands on her, but she hadn't known how delicate they would make her feel.

When she couldn't stand the stress-induced nausea any longer, Beau dug into her bag and pulled out some jerky and dried fruit. Yasha perked up at the sight, nudging impatiently until she got her share, then wolfing the pieces down in scary-big chunks. Tearing at them seemed to bring her joy. Once it was gone, she focused on what was left of Beau's jerky, giving her these guileless puppy-dog eyes, and the monk heaved a put-upon sigh.

"Here," she handed the strips over. "Go nuts."

With nothing better to do, Beau took out her journal and began skimming through old notes and scribbling down new ones. She copied down everything she remembered about the people who had attacked them, what they said, what they carried. At some point, Yasha got up, but Beau noticed this distantly. She didn't really question it until she prowled back into the den, carrying something small and furry. Two somethings small and furry. She laid them down in front of Beau, looking very pleased with herself.

"You know..." Beau considered the dead creatures. "This could be gross, but I'm gonna see it as cute. You hunted and have provided for our pack. You are clearly a worthy mate." She set her work aside and dug a knife from her bag, and when she looked back, her mighty hunter was about to take a chunk out of one of the little tree-rat-things with her teeth. "Whoa, Yasha, Yasha, no. No no no, we don't do that, we cook it first. I know you've got a stomach of galvanized steel, but let's not risk it."

An hour later, they were sitting in the leaf litter, digging into their respective rat things. Yasha scarfed hers down like a pro, stripping meat from it with her teeth and just crunching through the smaller bones. Beau took her time pulling hers apart, gnawing at the tougher bits, back to brooding over the lack of contact from the Nein. When her companion dropped to the ground beside her, she glanced up to see her cleaning her face like a cat, swiping away the remains of her meal and licking it from her hand. Her face heated as she tried to contain her reaction to the simultaneously cute, weird, and hot behavior. The flicker of soft pink tongue against Yasha's knuckles and fingertips was distracting.

"I really hope you don't remember any of this when you come back," Beau commented idly, grasping her ankles where they folded together. "I don't suppose you've gotten a message from Jester? No rambling voice in your head? No one asking what biological function you're fulfilling in a given moment?"

Yasha's eyes met hers intently as she spoke, but she remained silent.

"Yeah, didn't think so." She gave Yasha a pat on the thigh.

The next morning, Beau marked two tallies on a blank page of her journal. It became a ritual. Comb through her notes, refresh her memory on the important shit she would be focusing on if she wasn't in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere, and mark down another day. It felt important to keep track of this. Each day without a message, without anyone coming to find them, was significant. Maybe she needed the awareness of time passing, maybe she was using it a little bit to torture herself with the idea that finally, they'd just left her behind. That was still preferable to the Jester-being-dead alternative as to why she hadn't messaged.

They began foraging, Yasha doing the hunting, Beau handling gathering. At first, Yasha had seemed distressed when the monk tried to wander off into the trees, making low, growling noises in the back of her throat. It had taken some time to get her to understand that Beau was just looking for food, so they didn't have to eat the same backwoods charcuterie Beau'd had in her pack for gods knew how long. Once Yasha realized Beau wasn't trying to ditch her or get eaten by the local wildlife, she calmed down, but she remained close, a silent shadow. They parted only when she padded away into the brush to find small animals for their meals. Beau had watched her hunt, perched in a tree, and was surprised at how quickly and stealthily someone so big could move. Usually, she, and probably everyone else in their party, forgot that Yasha grew up in the wilds, doing this sort of thing for basic survival. She could tell when Yasha spotted something by her sudden stillness, then the barbarian would lash out with uncanny speed for the kill. Sometimes, she missed, and would chase her prey for a few moments, just for fun.

When Beau completed her own self-appointed task, she would sort through what she collected with Yasha. It was mostly nuts, some greens she recognized from reading, maybe bugs she thought would be edible, rarely berries. Nothing bright or colorful, never mushrooms. She wasn't going to stake their lives on her ability to tell the difference in the shape of five kinds of near-identical white fungi. A couple things she picked up, assuming they were fine, were vetoed by Yasha with a single sniff or glance. Apparently, her memory of what was safe to eat still held. Her judgments were recorded in Beau's journal.

Every other day or so, they went back to the stream. Beau would refill her waterskin, strip down and bathe, wash her clothes, and usually, convince Yasha to do the same. Despite the chill, Yasha would sprawl naked in the shallow water, anchored by a rock, letting the current run down her body. The silvery ends of her hair shimmered beneath the surface as they flowed along. It was hard not to stare when she was like that, so serene and pale, the light refracting through the water to flash and ripple across her skin. She was totally shameless, too, as uncaring about her own nudity as she was about Beau's. Whenever Beau took her clothes off, she could feel Yasha's eyes follow her, and the intensity was flattering and terrifying all at once.

Out of respect for Yasha as a person and everything they were to each other, Beau tried to keep her distance, to avoid being drawn in by that fierce, odd-colored gaze and very open body language. Yasha... didn't make it easy. She padded up behind Beau, resting her chin on her shoulder, brushing against her skin to skin. If she was feeling especially bold, she would run a hand along her back or arm, maybe stroke the contours of her face with careful fingers. Beau could only dance out of reach and dodge touches for so long before the puzzlement and rejection in Yasha's expression got to her. As things stood, she found herself rebraiding Yasha's hair in apology after every bath, once she'd pulled her clothes back on.

Beau didn't know how to feel about it. The fact that Yasha, stripped of almost everything else human about her, treated Beau like something precious, and now showed her affection and attraction so easily... Fuck. They needed to get the fuck out of this place and wipe whatever curse or spell had done this to her. Then maybe Beau could work on not feeling guilty for enjoying the contact.

When they curled up to sleep at night, their bodies fitted snugly together, Beau could feel it again, the tension. She settled first and Yasha would follow, after her silent patrol around their den. Back from reassuring herself that no imminent danger lurked, she wrapped around Beau, slipping a powerful arm across her waist, making her feel small and protected. Her hand would stroke down her belly, conform to the curve of her hip, and something in Beau's core would tighten, shiver. A familiar tingle lit in her, anticipation building in her veins. The warm purring Yasha emitted made her think she wasn't alone in the feeling.

Anticipation became action one muggy afternoon. Beau lay on a slab of cool stone shaded by a sprawling tree near their den, dressed down to bindings and shorts, scratching away in her journal. It was mostly bullshit, just stream-of-consciousness rambling to give her mind something to do other than sandbag her with her own capital-I Issues. They had a way of creeping up on her in silence like this.

She was so intent on her distraction that she almost missed the approaching noise. Something big was moving in the forest. The snap of low branches and rustle of vegetation came from the trees, and birds let out warning calls as they took flight. A booming call rang out, and received answers that echoed back. Rolling to her feet, she snatched up her staff and glanced around frantically for Yasha. She had wandered off to do as she pleased while Beau was occupied with her writing, and now the monk regretted not paying better attention to her.

The first hulking gray form emerged from the brambles, huffing as it loped closer, head low but ears pricked and alert. From this distance, Beau could see it was canine in form, but vastly exceeded the average wolf or dog in size. Spurs of bone broke through the heavy mantle of fur down its neck and shoulders. It came to a halt, watching her with sharp amber eyes. When she shifted her grip on her staff, it followed the movement, then let its mouth hang open in a toothy grin. For a moment, she thought it might have satisfied its curiosity enough to continue on, but it threw back its head and howled. The sound seemed to vibrate through her bones. Worse still were the cries that returned.

Beau did some quick and dirty fight-math in her head. This thing was big, and there were more of them coming. How many, she wasn't sure. The way their voices melded as they called to each other made it impossible to tell if they were two or ten. The entrance to the den was right there... if she could reach it before the wolf did. She was fucking fast, but she had no clue how fast this thing would be when she gave it something to chase. The den might not even save her, if it was strong enough to shove its way through the opening. And where the fuck was Yasha? Her mighty protector must've gotten real comfortable since they started traversing the area on their own. The wolf, meanwhile, padded closer, utterly fearless in the face of a small human armed with nothing but a big stick.

"Hey, fuck off," Beau shouted at the beast, squaring her shoulders and trying to make herself look bigger. "I've ripped the hearts outta things twice your size with my bare fuckin' hands, dude."

The wolf growled, low and menacing, still with that doggy grin, though its edges were beginning to snarl. Its pack called again, even closer now.

"Last chance," Beau warned, winding back Belabor in preparation for a fight. The wolf's lolling tongue lapped over its glistening teeth as it paced leisurely, taking its time.

Beau darted forward and whipped with the staff, watching the ripple of force slice through the air before the wolf was thrown back with a yelp. It scrambled back to its paws and let loose a ripping growl, flashing yellowed fangs the length of her fingers. She settled into a defensive stance to wait. When it sprang for her, she was ready to snap the staff up into its head.

A black and white blur moved in her periphery, and Beau almost flinched at the scream of unbridled rage that accompanied Yasha's return. Yasha charged, uncaring of claws or teeth, powered by all the savagery she'd exhibited when they first reunited. In a single smooth movement, her wings emerged, whipping open and carving the air as she leaped a preternatural distance to land on the wolf. It crumbled back to the ground with a pained cry.

Two more hulking gray shapes skidded down the crumbling bank at the base of the trees, then another slunk out from the same direction as the first. All of them paused, uncertain, at the sight of the other wolf pinned and whimpering. Beau was so distracted by the three newcomers that she missed the one that pounced at her from behind, jaws wide. They snapped into her shoulder, drawing out a shocked curse, and the weight of the thing took her to the ground, bare skin scraping on raw earth and leaf litter. Claws scraped against her back and she was filled with a visceral fear as hot breath and teeth hit her neck, but they were gone a moment later as the wolf was removed forcibly.

Yasha had thrown her full weight at the beast, catching it around the neck, and crashed into the tangle of tree roots behind them. Its jaws reached for her as it twisted to free itself, but she wrestled it down, muscles bulging. When she had it where she wanted it, Yasha adjusted her hold and violently jerked the wolf's head. The thick sound of sinew and bone separating as she broke its neck was audible from where Beau crouched. The barbarian dropped its limp body to turn back to its packmates, and screamed a challenge at them, wings flexing outward.

The pair nearest to Beau split, trotting forward to flank her, pelts bristled and ears swiveling, so Yasha rushed to meet them. One tried to clamp onto her forearm, instead taking a fist to the back of the throat before another slice of force from Belabor blew it off its feet. The other flinched back, pressing toward the ground. The show of weakness, of fear, triggered something in Yasha. She attacked head-on, roaring her victory as she grasped its jaw in one hand and snout in the other. The beast struggled, horrific shrieks spilling from it, as she forced its maw wide, wider, and vital parts tore like splitting seams. When it stopped struggling, she let it slump free, broken jaws gaping.

The survivors bolted with their tails low, unwilling to keep fighting after watching their pack members torn down by this winged monster. Stalking aggressively, pinions flared, Yasha went back to the first whimpering wolf, chest heaving with each blast of her breath, and sank her fingers into its fur, hauling it up by the scruff. Beau's stomach lurched.

"Yasha, don't," she shouted, and Yasha paused, head tilting to her voice. "It's over, okay? Just drop it. Please," she added, knowing words were useless, but hoping it would have an impact. She knew Yasha understood tone and inflection, even if the content meant nothing to her.

Yasha gripped the still-panting beast, trying to choose between instinct and the call of her companion, then released the wolf, letting it stagger into the woods as she backed away and fixed wild eyes on Beau. She was magnificent, if terrifying, and had hardly a scratch on her to show for the fight. Her whole body glowed with some otherworldly light, her wings brighter than everything else. The longer she held Beau's gaze, the more the rage seemed to melt from her, until she was padding close, her expression soft and open. She made nonsense sounds that, nonetheless, felt concerned as she brushed her fingertips down Beau's cheek and examined her wound.

"I've had worse," Beau assured her, squeezing her wrist.

She winced when Yasha pressed her whole palm over the bite, but warmth suffused through her shoulder, driving the pain away. The familiar sensation of magical wound-closure tugged at her skin, a little pleasurable and a little itchy, and when Yasha pulled her hand away, the bite was gone. Beau's ribs suddenly felt like they could barely contain her heart anymore. She reached up to stroke Yasha's cheek, ran her hand down the strong cords of her neck.

The longer they maintained eye contact, the darker and deeper Yasha's eyes got. She made a low, subvocal noise in her chest, pushing into Beau's space until their bodies met, and brushed her nose along Beau's temple, lips against her cheekbone. There was that tension again, swelling in the wake of post-battle adrenaline with each visible beat of Yasha's heart in her throat. It was so easy to just lean up, press a kiss to her pulse, and linger as Yasha purred. Soft feathers fluttered against her skin as Yasha encircled them with her wings. One large hand rose to Beau's hip, fingers digging into her muscles as it dragged up her spine and coaxed an arch out of her.

Beau's self-control devolved rapidly after that. Yasha found her lips with her own and kissed with no finesse, but so much heat and restrained ferocity that Beau groaned. Sharp teeth that snagged her lower lip drew a hint of blood, and Yasha dabbed it away with the tip of her tongue. It was too easy to flick her own tongue against it.

In an instant, hands gripped under her ass, lifting her effortlessly. The monk wrapped her thighs around Yasha's waist, tipping her head back when she nuzzled into her neck. She threaded her fingers through heavy locks, scratching encouragingly at her nape. Yasha growled and raked her canines against her throat, then they were moving, her gait easy as she ducked into their shelter. One hot hand braced Beau's shoulders to support her while she was tipped back, long fingers splayed against her bare skin.

They almost tumbled on their way down to the bedroll, Yasha catching herself abruptly to keep all her weight from falling onto Beau. She let out a short bark of laughter at the monk's quiet "oof," her first laugh in their time here. Beau pulled back to stare in mild shock, meeting sparkling eyes, gaze flickering to the faint curve of soft lips. She traced the tattoo there with her thumb, tugging Yasha's lower lip just enough to tease. Her beautiful warrior nipped at it playfully.

They kissed again, everything slicker, hotter, less restrained. It was rough and a little painful. Yasha loved biting, sometimes just scraping the edges of her teeth against Beau's swollen lips, other times sinking into the delicate skin of her throat hard enough to bruise. Beau could already feel the little stinging marks she left behind, barely soothed by the laving of her tongue over them. When she reached Beau's breastband, she tugged at it and glanced up through her eyelashes as if asking for permission. Beau squirmed out of it obligingly, tossing it... somewhere. She didn't give a fuck. The barbarian sat back on her haunches, ridding herself of her own pesky binding. Beau had only a moment to groan in appreciation before she dove back onto her tits, humming happily and sucking a taut brown nipple into her mouth.

Yasha took control in a way that felt like understanding. She watched, studying every move, every expression, every sound Beau made, and pushing for more. Her hands were everywhere, massaging at lithe muscles, stroking tenderly across the softest parts of Beau's skin, shifting and positioning her body with unbelievable ease. Beau rose to every touch helplessly. When Yasha finally settled between her legs and pushed her nose through her curls, rumbling as she inhaled her scent, Beau came so close to orgasm, it was almost embarrassing. Her thighs jerked, and she tugged at Yasha's mane to slow her.

"Hold on, hold on, just... gimme a second, Yash, I need it," she panted out, urging Yasha's face up to meet her eyes. "Thank you."

Yasha rested her cheek on Beau's thigh, glancing up and down her body as she took a few deep breaths. When Beau didn't feel like she was about to explode anymore, she brushed her knuckles along Yasha's cheek. Message received, she lowered her head again, parting Beau's folds with a broad stroke of her tongue. A throaty purr vibrated against her sex while Yasha lapped at her, and Beau was trembling and gasping Yasha's name in mere moments.

Like most things with Yasha these days, there wasn't a lot of finesse, but her enthusiasm and pleasure in the act more than made up for it. The wet, messy noises she made were obscenely loud in their quiet space. She took Beau's clit between her lips in a way that suggested her memory of eating pussy wasn't as obliterated as the rest, suckling at it until she had to pin Beau's hips in place. Her tongue glided along the sensitive inner parts of Beau's labia, and when everything was slippery with a mix of saliva and slick, she pushed inside her with one long finger. Beau squeezed around it with a whine, clawing at Yasha's broad shoulder. Her orgasm, when it hit, felt like something had hooked deep inside her and dragged it out. Her thighs shook with the force of it, chest heaving, body arching with tension.

She had to push Yasha's face away, whimpering from overstimulation. Yasha's lips and chin were glazed with fluid, and she swiped it away with the back of her hand, cleaning it up with her tongue like a satisfied cat. When she was finished, she braced her hands on either side of Beau's shoulders and lowered her sex against one lean thigh, rolling her hips idly. Beau made a pathetic sound and pressed up into her warmth and wetness. Those darkened odd eyes stared into hers, fierce and predatory.

"Is that what you want?" Beau panted, grasping at Yasha's ass. She raked with her nails hard enough to hurt, and Yasha growled, stiffening against her. "You can have whatever you want, Yasha. I'm yours. All yours."

Yasha bit into the soft flesh above her breast, worrying at it with her teeth until Beau yelped, then nipped along her sternum. She trailed over the scar there, and paused. Her nose brushed the length of it, then she mouthed gently at the ridge of tingly-numb tissue. A noise came from the back of her throat that made Beau's chest ache.

"Hey, none of that," Beau rasped. She tangled fingers in Yasha's hair and pulled to get her attention. Yasha grumbled, then leaned in to kiss her, and Beau could taste herself on Yasha's tongue. They got lost for a few minutes in a hot slide of lips and tongues. It might have gone on longer if Beau wasn't acutely aware of the needy jerks on her thigh, smearing Yasha's slick everywhere. "Fuck..."

Big hands took hold of her and rolled her onto her belly. She felt Yasha settle firmly on top of her and couldn't resist arching back, pushing her ass up. Yasha moaned and made a jerky little thrust in response, so Beau pressed a little harder. One hand gripped her hard against Yasha, while the other dug into the bedroll. The warmth and wetness of Yasha's sex glided on her skin. It took her a few moments to find a good spot to rub, a few more to get a rhythm going, but she started making breathy little sounds as she humped Beau's ass.

Beau gasped, bracing back into each roll of Yasha's hips. Fingers slipped down between her folds and along either side of her clit, and she almost got shoved face-first into the bedding by the force of Yasha's thrusts. Teeth sank into the back of her neck hard enough to make her yelp, and held her still. The very Yasha presence of her was gone, replaced by something animal and selfish, and Beau was hopelessly aroused by it. She stayed pliant and let Yasha use her however she pleased, rubbing back at the hot, silky-wet cunt painting a slick streak across her skin.

When Yasha came, she came with a series of high cries that had Beau trembling. She waited for the tension to leave Yasha, for her breaths to ease and her touch to gentle, and nudged her to move so she could shift onto her back. She remained beneath her, though, pushing the mass of braided hair back to better see her face. Her cheekbones flushed pink, and her pale skin seemed to give off a light of its own.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," Beau whispered to her like a secret. She snorted at her own sappy tone and Yasha tossed her head in surprise, then touched their foreheads together, purring. Beau's chest clenched almost painfully. Her throat felt choked with things she didn't think she had words for. Yasha didn't seem to mind.

"I miss you, though. Like... all of you. You're still so fucking sweet, and I know you'd kill literally anything to protect me. But I miss your voice, and the way you go from complete confidence flirting with me to so awkward you can barely string a sentence together when feelings come up. Not that I'm any better, it's just like, cuter on you." She scratched at the nape of Yasha's neck and smiled when she leaned into the contact. "And... we probably shouldn't have done this."

Yasha was blessedly unaware of the anxiety brewing in Beau's gut and snuggled up with her, throwing a possessive arm and leg over her much smaller body. She tucked her face over Beau's shoulder and her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek. After a few minutes, she started to snore lightly, and Beau just held her, petting the smooth muscles of her shoulder.

Regardless of Beau's feelings on the matter, it was not the last time they fucked. Yasha appeared to have gained some confidence after the first time and was now comfortable kissing Beau's neck, sliding a hand along her belly, and doing other arousing things to initiate sex. The affection and eroticism were addicting, and with how isolated they were, the closeness felt natural. Any time Yasha reached for her with intent in her odd-colored eyes, Beau folded like a house of cards. She hadn't had this much sex this regularly since... ever, actually, and her body responded to Yasha with almost frightening intensity.

She was weak. She was so fucking gone on her. And Yasha knew it. She played Beau like a cheap kazoo, but Beau couldn't fucking blame her. It wasn't like she had any ulterior motives, she just knew exactly how to get Beau to do what she wanted. Beau spent more time naked in an outdoor setting than she ever imagined she would have. It sure made river days easier, though. Didn't need to convince Yasha to put clothes back on if they were never on to begin with.

Though she still marked the days, Beau had stopped counting on a message, or any sign of the Nein at all. Survival took priority. It was difficult to worry about the theoretical timeline of their rescue when they still needed to eat and maintain their shelter and not get killed by the more bloodthirsty denizens of the forest. Daylight was usually safe, or at least mundane, but nights were different. There were some things Beau had seen among the trees that she had never encountered before in her life, tall, shambling golems of wood and bone, beasts without eyes that seemed to travel from one shadow to another, and something she hadn't gotten a look at, but that had the most haunting, soul-rending call she'd ever heard and shook the trees when it moved. That one had scared the shit out of Yasha, and when she nearly dragged Beau back to their den at the sound, Beau let her.

Beau wasn't sure how much longer they could stay in this place. She had no idea how far away the nearest thing resembling a town was, but she also had no idea if anyone was looking for them. Some days, it was almost tempting to pretend the rest of the world didn't exist, and all there was were the trees, and her, and Yasha, but she was Beauregard fucking Lionett and she hadn't gotten this far in life just to turn into a forest hermit. Wherever she went, she knew Yasha would follow, and maybe they could find someone who knew what had happened to her and fix it. Get all of Yasha back. It was worth a try.

They returned to their den early one evening when the forest flooded with thick, low mist, all the deep veins between massive copses of trees overflowing with it. Within the shelter, they kept warm, partly with the little fire Beau set in the middle of the space, partly by having sex. Yasha buried her face between Beau's legs and brought orgasm after orgasm from her, until the monk was sobbing and couldn't feel her legs. She returned the favor, letting Yasha ride her face to her own satisfaction, admiring the sheer power of her physique. They exhausted themselves into sleep, and Beau didn't notice the storm that rolled in until a rumble of thunder woke her in the middle of the night.

Waking alone for the first time since they got stuck here was a briefly terrifying experience, and Beau's body went cold with fear and abandonment. She staggered upright, wrapping herself in a robe, and pushed her way outside to see rain filtering down through the canopy, and Yasha staring skyward, bare skin illuminated by each strike of lightning. She extended a hand up, as if to grasp something, and Beau thought she saw a streak of blue energy touch her fingertips. She immediately got the sense that this wasn't something she was supposed to see, but curiosity got the better of her, and she curled in the entry, watching. The storm crashed and raged around Yasha rather than over her, the wind whipping through her hair and the ragged branches, but not letting a single leaf touch her. Lightning flashed, splitting a tree, and the resulting boom shook the ground, but nothing came close to her. The only thing that reached her was the rain.

There was another blinding flash of lightning, and a pair of crackling eyes glimmered above, sending Beau slinking back into the den. She shot one last look at the figure Yasha cut in the night, tall and strong and fearless, before she returned to their bed. The combination of the storm and the lack of a warm body beside her made falling back to sleep take forever, but she woke up again with dawn light barely slanting in from above, and Yasha curled around her.

Beau, it's me, I'm so sorry! Caduceus and I just got fixed up and Caleb said you and Yasha have been missing since we got -

Beau jumped so hard at the voice in her head that she startled Yasha and scrambled to her feet, pacing excitedly.

Sorry, I forgot... There was the fight and you got left behind. We got hit by a spell. Feeblemind. Caleb and Veth spent so -

"Jessie, calm down, you can explain in person. Are you coming for us?"

Yes! Us? Yasha's with you? I tried messaging her but she didn't respond and I was worried.

"Yes, she's with me. Think she got hit by the same thing you did. She's... not really herself."

Okay, well Caduceus and I know how to fix it, we'll help her as soon as we get to you. We'll be there soon. Promise!

"Thanks, Jester. I've missed you guys."

She focused back on her surroundings, on the confused Yasha staring at her. Impulse control left her entirely, and she threw herself at Yasha, hugging her tightly around the middle, and trying not to cry. Warm hands reached up to pet her, brushed through the overlong hair of her undercut, gentle but uncertain.

"We're gonna go home," she muffled into Yasha's chest. "We finally get to go home. They're coming back for us."

Yasha made soothing sounds, kissing her forehead. This was going to end, Beau realized. She'd known that and hoped for it, but now she had to face it for real. Besides, she missed Yasha as she was before, and they needed to fix whatever the spell had done to her. She just hoped that, once she was back, they would be okay. That she wouldn't hate Beau. Fuck, she might not even remember this.

She received one more message informing her that the Nein would be arriving at, or close to, their location as soon as possible. It gave her time to poke around their weird little temporary home, making sure all of their belongings were collected. She cracked open her journal, flipping reflexively to the page where she'd tallied their days, and swept her thumb over the marks. Forty-eight days. She felt like a strange, wild thing, like outside the influence of people, she'd gone feral. Forty-eight days was all it took to make her a different person.

Yasha watched her, brow furrowed in concern, as uncannily attuned to her moods as ever. When Beau stopped puttering around, all out of things to do, Yasha sat beside her, strong and warm and reassuring. Their bodies aligned neatly, shoulder, hip, and thigh, and Beau rested her head wearily against a firm bicep. A moment later, Yasha's cheek pressed to her hair.

"I don't know what you'll feel when you're back to normal," Beau rasped, "but I don't know if I can go back to... whatever the fuck we were doing before."

It hurt to even think about putting distance between them again. After fucking around for so long, staying just out of reach of one another, playing emotional chicken, their newfound intimacy here was a relief. It was everything Beau never knew she wanted. Sure, it sucked that Yasha had to get mind-blasted for Beau to get her head out of her own ass, but it loosened up whatever had been messing with her all this time, keeping her stuck.

They sat together in silence for untold minutes, matching the rhythm of each other's breath. Against all odds, Beau reached a state of meditation, eyes half-shut, drifting in her own mind. The frenzy of emotion she'd been in since she first heard Jester's voice faded away. They were going home, and everything was gonna be okay. For now, at least, everything would be okay. She'd worry about the next disaster when they came to it.

When a very familiar voice called from somewhere nearby, Beau was up and bounding outside, almost sending a snoozing barbarian to the floor. Jester was the first one out of the trees, followed by Fjord, and she squealed excitedly, skipping to Beau for a hug. Beau hadn't had a Jester hug in so long... And she had to wait a moment longer because Yasha thundered in snarling, teeth bared. Fjord's sword appeared in a flash, and Yasha turned on him furiously, shifting in front of Beau.

"Whoa, okay, Yasha," the monk placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to get her attention. "Yasha, come back, you know them. They're our friends. Remember?"

Yasha was listening, head turned toward Beau, but her eyes still darted among their friends with suspicion. Veth was flanking, crossbow drawn, and Caleb had a handful of spellcasting materials at the ready, looking like a startled cat. Jester just looked fucking heartbroken.

"Oh, Yasha... It's us, it's the Mighty Nein. We won't hurt you, we're your family," she told her softly, holding out a hand, palm up. Yasha blinked at it.

"Can we all lower the weapons, please?" Beau glared at everyone, especially Veth. "She's not gonna hurt anyone. She was just surprised."

Their friends obeyed, and once the Star Razor vanished from sight, Yasha relaxed. She carefully laid her hand in Jester's much smaller one, and the tiefling grinned. When she noticed Caduceus off to one side, she perked up and made a pleased trilling sound. He smiled in that utterly unruffled way of his, waving back.

"Yeah, hi," Caduceus greeted. "I know it's probably been a rough few weeks, but we're here to help."

"That wizard fucker was fucked," Jester told Beau. "He got me and Fjord and Caduceus, and Veth and Caleb had to take us back to Zadash, but they needed to find someone who could restore all of us, plus have enough diamond dust for the spell, and Caleb was broke, so Veth had to pay for it, but then they couldn't find a cleric who could do it, so they just herded us around for days trying to figure out what to do and wondering what happened to you two - "

Beau let the rambling wash over her, and she'd missed this so much. The others had drifted a little, investigating the clearing that had become so familiar in the past weeks. Yasha stood with her head resting on Beau's shoulder, arms draped around her waist, and Beau reached up to scratch through her hair, just the way she liked. She definitely had no clue what Jester was saying, but she listened with rapt attention, probably just fascinated by having a voice other than Beau's to listen to.

"Excuse me," Caduceus cut in, ever the polite one. "I bet Yasha'd like to get her mind back sooner rather than later, hm? She's got a lot to do, plenty of time and talking to make up for."

One of his ears swiveled toward Beau, and she felt the blood drain from her face at his scarily perceptive glance. Her hand dropped from its place in Yasha's hair, and the warrior grumbled in disappointment, nudging her nose against Beau's cheek. She tried not to think about how incriminating the affection was.

"Yeah, she does," Beau agreed. Her stomach clenched with anxiety. "C'mon, Yash, let's get you back to normal."

Caleb settled in the entry of the den and set up the tower. He stepped out of the way with a bow, gesturing for them to enter, and the clerics went first, followed closely by Veth. Yasha blinked at where they disappeared, then tentatively padded through the portal at Beau's encouragement.

More coaxing was required to get her to enter the levitation column, and she only started floating after Beau drifted away. Her eagerness to stay close was endearing as fuck, and extremely transparent. Fjord kept giving Beau meaningful looks, eyebrows raised, while they stood in the salon, waiting for Caduceus to cast his regenerative spell on Yasha. Veth was glancing between them, squinting, and Beau wanted to yank her hood down over her face.

"Alright, Yasha," Cad spoke softly, one hand full of diamond dust. She stared at it, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "This'll just be a few seconds. Then you'll be back to your old self."

He placed his hand on her like he had at the cathedral, ignoring her flinch, and the moments ticked by. Nothing happened, then Yasha's entire face changed, going through a range of complex expressions unlike any she'd made in weeks. Her eyes flickered to Beau, so intense that it forced her to look away. Six seconds and the entire world changed, again.

"What did I... How...?" Yasha stumbled over words, her voice rough from the variety of other sounds she'd used to communicate recently.

"You're back!" Jester threw her arms around Yasha's neck, leaning a little when Veth shoved her aside to hug her around the legs. "It's so good to hear you again, it was fucking scary when I messaged you and I didn't get a reply."

"You did?"

"Yeah! I just couldn't because of the spell."

"Ah, okay?" Yasha let herself get overwhelmed by their companions, listening with her customary quiet stoicism, and Beau slunk away.

Before she entered her room, she called to a cat making its way down the tower.

"Hey," she gestured at the cat, and it sat primly in front of her, awaiting orders. "Can you like, send a bottle of booze and something hot and fried to my room?" The cat chirped. "Oh, shit, and uh... something green, like vegetables, I guess. And a couple pancakes. You know what, just bring a smorgasbord of whatever you got." The cat squinted at her, tail switching, then murrped and set off toward the kitchen.

"Saucy little bastards," she muttered to herself, flying up through the tower.

Coming home had never felt so good. She thumped into her room and went straight to the bath, stripping off clothes that had been worn for way too long for only being rinsed in a river every couple days. She caught an eyeful of herself in the mirror and... didn't know what to think. She'd definitely lost weight, which was a given when you lived in the woods for a month and a half with no magical cats to cook for you. Hair'd gotten kinda shaggy, she'd need to shave it back down. She was a little grungy too, no shock there. The look kinda worked for her, though. All in all, she felt like she should've looked more different after all that bullshit. Her fingers traced over the shadow of scarring left by the wolf bite Yasha healed. Then she drew a line between some of the love bites Yasha had left personally on her chest.

The bath was close to orgasmic when she sank in, hot enough to sting, but so soothing. She dunked her whole body under the water, then let her head hang back against the edge of the tub. She could've fallen asleep in there, except her brain wouldn't shut the fuck up. Instead, she scrubbed her skin almost raw and shampooed her hair probably two times more than was necessary. It was gonna smell amazing when she got out, but still. When she was getting pruny from being in the water too long, she got out and wrapped herself up in two fluffy towels.

While she was bathing, the cats had been busy. A bunch of food, way more than she could handle alone, was laid out in her sitting room, surrounding an excessively large bottle of something resembling whiskey. She uncorked it and took a whiff and yep, definitely whiskey. They left a glass for it, too, and she considered using it for about two seconds before just slugging straight from the bottle. Even just being miscellaneous tower-cat whiskey, it was good. The food was even better. She rolled sausage links in pancakes and dunked them in sauce with her fingers, forced herself to eat some broccoli... It was good.

There were a few knocks on the door, Jester and Fjord trying to check in on her, but she ignored both. She didn't really feel okay doing it, but decided she deserved at least one night of decompression. Odds were, they'd bombard her with prying questions, and she wanted to put that off a little longer. She needed to talk to Yasha first, get a feel for what in the hells was happening there now.

Because her bed felt empty, when she slid under the covers, and the softness was unfamiliar. The silence was unfamiliar. If she thought it got quiet in the forest, it had nothing on this. No rustling, no creaking, no gently padding steps pacing the leaves. No breaths, no warmth, no solid body tucked against her back. She kicked the covers off and rolled back out of bed with a huff, trudging out of the room.

The tower was still and peaceful, with only the occasional cat darting along the walls. Beau drifted down through the open irises, hesitating at each one to make sure she wasn't seen. She didn't hear a thing until she got to the second floor. There were a couple voices, Fjord and Caleb, from the sound of them. It didn't matter. She landed at the salon, striding up to the shelves and scanning book titles in the firelight. When she found the most boring-sounding one in the bunch, she slid it from its place and cracked the cover.

"Beau?"

She almost dropped the damn book, clutching it to her heaving chest like a security blanket. Yasha sat on the floor, back against the sofa, warming up in front of the fire. She looked... good. More like herself. Her hair was all loose and glossy in the low light, her face was soft and clean, and she wore simple sleep clothes that weren't thick enough to hide the curves of her body beneath. She was going to give Beau a heart attack in more ways than one.

"Fuck, you scared the shit out of me," Beau hissed, awkwardly frozen and unable to stop staring.

"I didn't mean to," Yasha shrugged one shoulder. She was staring right back, and something in her eyes reminded Beau of the fierce, bestial woman she'd lived with for the past several weeks.

"It's fine, I was just surprised, is all." She fidgeted and pretended to skim through the book. "Came looking for a bedtime story."

"Oh." Yasha finally broke her stare to watch the flames ripple and dance. "I couldn't sleep either. I got the feeling you were trying to avoid me earlier tonight?"

Beau cringed. "Uh..."

"I was wanting to talk to you, though. About... things."

"Things."

"What happened out there," Yasha clarified. Her fingers flexed repeatedly on the knee she'd pulled up to her chest.

"Right." Beau crossed the room and folded to the floor, keeping a careful distance between them. "Um... Well, I guess after you got hit with that spell, the - "

"No, I... That's... not it," Yasha tried, brow furrowed as she organized thoughts into words. She inhaled, puffed it out, inhaled again, hand clenching into a fist briefly. Her lips moved, but Beau didn't hear anything.

"Okay, what then? Is there something..."

"I remember," Yasha murmured, so soft that Beau almost missed it. Her skin went cold once she processed the words.

"Like..." Beau trailed off, trying not to panic.

"Everything," Yasha continued. "All of it."

Beau remained silent, head full of the rush of blood, an endless whoosh that made her dizzy.

"You know, it was all so simple." Yasha traced her fingertips over her symbol of the Storm Lord. "There wasn't time passing, or second-guessing, or planning for anything. It was like... You've seen me fight, how I go into this rage... Like that, but... clearer? And without the anger. Well, even that was there at first," she admitted, hair slipping forward to shield her face. "It was so easy to kill those people. But then I saw you, and I knew that as long as we were together, everything would be okay."

"Yasha..." Her voice broke.

"You know I... I see you. Without all of this," she gestured at herself and the general world around them, "I could do something. I wanted so much, and you tried so hard to keep me in line. It was fucking confusing. The way I felt, the way you acted... I felt like you were already mine. You were my... my mate," she stumbled a bit on the word, cheeks flushed pink. Gods, but she was heart-stoppingly beautiful. "What I think I mean is... I don't want to go back to how things were. Knowing what it's like to have you, I cannot go back. If it's too much, and you aren't with me..."

"No," Beau almost choked on her own spit trying to get that one word out. "Yash, what happened was... bizarre, and exceptional, it shouldn't have happened, and it shouldn't have taken that to make me be... fucking honest with you. I had so many opportunities, and I was a coward and waited until you couldn't respond to do it."

"I don't know. I think I responded adequately," Yasha shrugged, tipping her head to watch Beau, and the hooded look she gave her sent a shivery bolt of heat through Beau's core.

"I, yeah, I mean, m-more than adequately," Beau stuttered, and wanted to kick herself for losing her cool so easily. Then she stared back into Yasha's darkened, mismatched eyes and thought, fuck it, this woman was worth losing her cool. "I don't wanna go back either. Like, ever."

"Good," Yasha husked, low and soft.

A now-familiar tension wound low in Beau's belly. She swallowed thickly, gnawing at her lower lip, and shivered when Yasha glanced at her mouth.

"You wanna maybe go someplace a little more..." Beau gestured absently to somewhere that wasn't here, in the salon, where any of their companions could come in and humiliate them.

"Kinda, yeah."

"Okay." The monk sprang up so quickly that she almost stumbled, instead turning it into an awkward little dance on her toes. Fucking embarrassment to herself. Yasha chuckled low in her throat as she rose, letting her hand brush along Beau's arm as she passed.

"Your place, or mine?" she asked, stepping into the levitation zone at the tower's center.

"Wherever you want," Beau replied sincerely. She'd follow this woman through the Nine Hells.

"Hm. Mine is closer." And then she was drifting through the aperture in the middle of the floor, and Beau propelled herself after her. Once they were in her room, Yasha pressed up behind Beau, one hand on her lower belly, and Beau had to fight to keep from rutting back into her.

"I can finally tell you things," Yasha breathed against her neck. "Like how cute the little dimples in your back are," she dug her fingertips in, "and that I love how flexible you are."

"Fuck." Beau aligned their bodies perfectly to grind her ass into Yasha's hips. "Yash, believe me. You ain't seen nothin' yet."

Yasha hummed, humping against her, then scooped her up in her arms and carried her to the bedroom. Beau snuggled into her chest, content, until she was chucked unceremoniously onto the bed. She yelped midair and bounced on the softness, sprawling out to stare at the fucking gorgeous woman she got to spend the night with. Some wild energy expanded in her chest, and she wiggled happily, then flipped onto her face to hide her embarrassment.

"Beau," Yasha chuckled. "What are you doing?"

"Hiding my shame," she muffled into the covers. The bed dipped and hands glided down her waist, catching on the flare of her hips.

"It was adorable."

"I am not adorable. I'm a lot of fucking things, but that's not one of them." She angled her head to peer at Yasha with one eye. She had slipped the loose shirt off, and was all silken marble, curves and muscle, petal-pink nipples that Beau wanted to kiss. "Gods, warn a girl, would you?"

"I like keeping you on your toes." She laid out on her side, propped up on one elbow to give Beau a magnificent fucking view. "This is the first time I get to take my time. Draw it out. Tease you a little."

"You know, you did plenty of that the night you decided to spend like two hours eating me out."

"You taste good," she said simply. Then she urged Beau onto her back and rolled on top of her, kissing her slow and heavy. The sound of their lips and tongues meeting was loud in the stillness of the room.

"Mm, wait, wait," Beau interrupted, breaking the kiss and pushing against Yasha's ridiculously defined shoulder. She couldn't have moved her if she wanted, but Yasha graciously gave her some room to breathe. She scrubbed her hands over her face to avoid that odd-eyed gaze. "This is such a fucking drag, I know, but I have to ask now or I'm gonna chicken out."

"...Okay?" Yasha prompted when she just lay there panting for a few moments. She wasn't gonna chicken out. She wasn't. This was important shit. She chewed her lip for another beat before continuing.

"When you said you didn't wanna go back to how things were before, did you mean like... everything? Or just the lack of sex? Like, I get it if you were really pent up before and a return to celibacy would be shitty. But if that's it, you kinda just wanna bone all the time, I don't think - "

Yasha cupped her cheek in one hand and pressed her thumb over Beau's mouth to quiet her. When the rambling stopped, she tugged at her soft, kiss-swollen lower lip as she ran her thumb down her chin.

"Beau." She searched her expression with big, sad eyes that poked at Beau's fight response. She'd kill anything that made Yasha look like that. "I know that I am... not the best at communicating, especially when things are really complicated. So, I understand if you haven't quite... picked up what I've been putting down? What I mean is... I... I want you around me. I want to be allowed to touch you and hold you. I want you to feel comfortable just being you when you're with me."

Yasha took Beau's hand, playing with her fingers in such a familiar way. She got the feeling Yasha really liked her hands, for whatever reason, which was fitting because, you know, lesbians. But she was gentle, like she could break it if she wasn't careful, tracing the fine bones, brushing scarred knuckles. They watched their hands together, Beau's small and delicate and warm against Yasha's large, strong, and cool. Beau could feel every beat of her heart from her throat to somewhere deep in her belly, and she wondered if Yasha could feel it, too.

"Beau, I've been in love with you, for a while now. And I want you to know it."

Beau let out a slow breath, eyes blurry with liquid. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She swallowed thickly and laced their fingers together, squeezing. "Feeling's mutual."

"Is that why you had to ask if I only wanted you for sex?" Yasha asked, and she was being so soft with her that Beau wanted to hide again.

"I... You know, I don't like examining my own fucked-up thought processes. Let's talk about something else."

"You're... special, Beau," Yasha whispered. "It took me a long time to accept that I could have something... new, and good, and that I... had feelings for you. I know you think you were too afraid to do anything, but it started with me. I didn't let you close. You respected that I wasn't ready, and, you know... This is hard." Her cheeks were flushed in the low light.

"Yeah, see why I tried to move on?" Beau teased.

"I know, I know, but... we have to talk about it eventually, right? We spent a month - "

"Forty-eight days."

" - forty-eight days together, doing things, needing each other, and we sort of... skipped a lot of stuff. Things... changed."

"I was kinda hoping we could just keep going and have sex without the big DTR conversation," Beau said flippantly.

Yasha's brow furrowed. "DTR?"

"Never mind. How about... Do you wanna go on a date? Like, a real one, or close to a real one. Shit's always kind of up in the air with this crew." She rubbed Yasha's thick biceps nervously, enjoying the bizarre familiarity. All that thick, braided hair brushed against her as Yasha nodded her assent.

"Yes, yeah, let's do that," Yasha agreed, stumbling a little. "I think that works. What kind of date?"

"I dunno, probably the usual," Beau shrugged. "Fistfight. Wine and dine. Cuddling under the stars or something. Maybe even sex, if I feel like putting out on the first date. Odds are in your favor on that one."

"I don't know, I wouldn't want anyone thinking I stole your virtue..." Yasha held her deadpan expression flawlessly, and Beau snorted. She startled a little at the noise, lips quirking into a half-smile.

"If I had it in the first place, I'd give it to you for free."

She went quiet when Yasha leaned in, noses brushing, foreheads touching. Her eyes drifted shut. Warm puffs of breath flowed over her lips. Her heartbeat picked up again, pulsing rabbit-fast in her chest until she felt like it would burst. This lightness expanding within her, its intensity, it was almost terrifying, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or scream. Instead, she flexed her fingers into Yasha's shoulders, working out the energy slowly, then glided them down to her waist.

"I'd give you a lot of things," she continued. "Including head, if you still want it..."

"I do, but... I'd kind of like to just 'schnuggle.'" She ghosted her lips along Beau's cheekbone to the corner of her jaw.

"There's not gonna be a lot of schnuggling if you keep that up," Beau warned.

"Okay." Yasha rolled off her and shimmied her pants down her hips, then kicked them off the end of the bed, and lay before Beau in all her naked glory.

"Not sure that helped, Yash."

"I never said we weren't going to have sex at all," Yasha explained, stretching and probably not even realizing that Beau was already soaking through her underwear. "Just that, for now, we'll schnuggle."

"Right." Beau stared at Yasha's beautifully-sculpted body for a few moments, head empty as a jar, then hurried to squirm out of her own clothes. She flung them off the bed with unnecessary force, then scooted closer to Yasha, lying skin-to-skin. "Alright, babe, schnuggle me."

Yasha snickered and draped over Beau's slender form, heavy and possessive. Her fingertips swirled in a pattern across Beau's ribs, down her belly, back up again, firm enough to be reassuring, but not enough to tickle. Beau buried her fingers in Yasha's hair, kneading at the nape of her neck.

"I love you, too," she sighed, barely audible. She'd almost snagged her tongue on the L. Yasha's hand paused, then found its way between her breasts, over the greatsword scar and the beat of her heart.

"You're not just saying that because I did, are you?" Yasha asked.

"I am." When she felt Yasha tense, she continued. "You made me feel safe enough to admit it. Like... put a name to all the shit I feel. It's a lot and I've avoided looking at it too hard for a long time, but I couldn't like, keep it from you when I know you understand. You feel it, too."

"Hm." Yasha kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, you haven't been in a relationship with me."

"No, but I think I have enough experience to know what to expect," Yasha countered. "What I've seen so far is... good. I like it. And if living with me at my worst for a month - "

"Forty-eight days."

"Whatever. If you dealt with that, I think you can handle the rest of me."

"Always. With both hands."

"Shut up," Yasha growled playfully, nipping at her jaw. Beau stole a biting kiss, then another. A hand squeezed her breast. She kneaded Yasha's ass. This time, they didn't stop.