Chapter Text
Glimmer watched the sun set on an impossible city.
The Venetian Lagoon gave way to city streets like an act of alchemy, water and wet stone united in the reflected glory of the sun. Even having walked those streets, it was sometimes difficult to comprehend that Venice was more than a mirage, drawing the unwary in with dreams of floating palaces.
‘This is going to be a cemetery, you know.’
Adora’s voice startled her out of her reverie. They were on the island of San Michele, a few hundred yards from the northern edge of Venice itself. The interior of the city, byzantine with thoroughfares on street and bridge and water, all crossing and re-crossing like the web of an inebriated spider, threw Glimmer off at times. It was a city of secrets. She hadn’t yet earned its trust, hadn’t yet learnt those secrets.
From across the water, though—there she could begin to grasp the city as a single living entity.
‘That makes sense,’ she said.
‘Yeah. You’d want to bury your dead somewhere isolated. It’s good for hygiene.’
Glimmer snorted. ‘I was going to say it’s a beautiful place. It wouldn’t be so bad spending eternity here, would it? With that view?’
‘Functional and beautiful.’
Glimmer glanced at Adora out of the corner of her eye. The other girl was looking out over the water, too, a thin sheen of sweat covering her exposed arms—Adora had insisted they row themselves all the way to Murano and back, which task had proven somewhat beyond her capabilities. Glimmer didn’t mind. It was, after all, a lovely place to take a break.
‘Speaking of.’ Adora cleared her throat. ‘I have something for you.’
Glimmer tried to act surprised, but Adora hadn’t exactly been subtle. The island of Murano was famed the world over for its glass, and they’d spent the whole morning wandering from one workshop to another. Anything could be had on Murano that was made of glass, as could any number of items that typically weren’t, clocks and candelabra and other things, things that exchanged hands discreetly in back rooms.
After they were done Adora had insisted Glimmer linger over her lunch while she ventured back out into the fray. And so: ‘Is it made of glass?’
‘Very funny,’ Adora said, producing a small package wrapped in delicate off-white paper. ‘It’s just—it made me think of you,’ she added, suddenly self-conscious. ‘And I wanted to… Anyway. Here. Open it.’
Glimmer took her time unwrapping it. The small, round plate that emerged was unlike the riotous colours of most of the things she’d seen that day. It was black, and in the middle a stylised crescent moon was inlaid like a mosaic in half a dozen shades of pink, the delicate patterns giving the impression of spun sugar.
‘Adora, it’s—’ Glimmer didn’t have to feign her surprise. When one saw a huge quantity of craftsmanship in a single day, no matter how skilful, it inevitably began to seem commonplace—but it was as if Adora had found the one piece on the island that was still capable of speaking to her. ‘It’s gorgeous.’ She kissed Adora’s cheek. ‘Thank you.’
‘Oh, good,’ Adora said, a little giddy. ‘I was worried you’d think it’s silly, because, you know, you could afford to buy whatever you wanted there, but that’s true of basically any gift I give you, and—’
This time she kissed Adora’s lips, lightly, stilling her words before they tumbled any further out of control. ‘Did you get something for Catra?’
For some reason, Adora turned bright red. ‘N-no, nothing for Catra.’
Glimmer raised her eyebrows. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. Really.’
‘It’s just you’ve been so careful to treat us equally…’
Adora groaned. ‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Well…’ Glimmer waved a hand apologetically. ‘Yes. You know, I don’t think either of us cares who gets the bigger gift.’
Adora kicked a loose stone into the lagoon. ‘To tell the truth, I think Catra thinks she’s won,’ she said after the ripples of its passing had dissipated.
‘Does she realise it’s not a competition?’
‘Try telling her that.’
Glimmer laughed. ‘Tell me, then. Why does she think she’s won?’
The colour was back in Adora’s cheeks. ‘Because I spend every night in her bed,’ she mumbled.
Glimmer rolled her eyes. ‘Of course. I should have guessed.’ She glanced at Adora, who was staring resolutely forward. No time like the present, was there? ‘Can I ask an indelicate question?’
‘Will it stop you if I say no?’
An impish grin. ‘Probably not.’
Adora sighed dramatically. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Why don’t you worry about that? You fret about the little things, but you spend your nights with her.’
‘Oh! I thought—I mean—do you want to… ?’ Adora was looking everywhere but at Glimmer. ‘I just thought,’ she went on, speaking very quickly, ‘I spend all my mornings with you, you know, cause she’s always asleep anyway, and I didn’t think you wanted, you know, that—’
It was tempting to let her go on, but Glimmer wasn’t quite as heartless as Catra when it came to letting Adora embarrass herself. ‘That’s not what I meant,’ she said, laying a reassuring hand on Adora’s shoulder. ‘The opposite, actually. I think being fair isn’t about treating people the same, it’s about showing the same respect for what they want. I don’t mind if Catra thinks she’s winning, because I’m happy. And I think you understand that, really, in the ways that matter.’ She shuffled over and replaced her hand with her head. ‘That’s why it’s amusing watching you overthink the things that don’t matter so much.’
Adora wrapped an arm around her. That was nice—there was a breeze over the open water, and the chill was starting to settle in even through the wool of her coat. ‘I’m sorry,’ Adora muttered. ‘I guess I’m still half expecting you to…’
‘Decide we hate each other and fight a duel for the right to keep you?’
Adora said, ‘Er.’
Glimmer snorted. ‘I promise I’ll let you know before it gets anywhere near that point.’
From her vantage on Adora’s shoulder, Glimmer could see the edges of her embarrassed smile. ‘I’ll try to keep that in mind.’
Glimmer hummed agreement. ‘While I have license to be indelicate,’ she added, and she could all but feel Adora brace herself. ‘What’s it like?’
‘Um.’ Adora let out a breath. ‘It’s—nice.’
‘Nice?’ Glimmer sat up, the better to waggle her eyebrows at Adora.
‘It’s… it’s like taking all the tension and, and fire between us, and turning it into something we both, um… enjoy.’ Adora peeked out at her from behind her hands. ‘And afterwards it’s… peaceful.’
Glimmer bumped her shoulder affectionately. ‘I’m happy for you.’
‘That’s good, because I’m mortified.’
Glimmer was proud of her, too. She remembered a time Adora had ceased functioning when presented with the merest insinuation there might, someday, be something between her and Catra. Mortified was a distinct improvement.
Still. It wouldn’t do to let Adora rest on her laurels. Which was why she said, ‘In that case I probably shouldn’t mention that I can hear you sometimes.’
It was convenient, Glimmer reflected as Adora spluttered through a response, that she’d never found that sort of thing a priority herself. Which wasn’t to say she didn’t appreciate the way Adora’s muscles flexed as she worked the oars back to Venice proper, or that she didn’t harbour vague curiosities.
But she had a long life ahead of her. One day, perhaps, she might want to share Adora’s bed—or perhaps not. That wasn’t the important thing. The important thing was that she knew what she wanted now: she wanted those moments together, watching the sun eclipsed by the spires of a distant city; she wanted the mornings when Adora emerged from the room she shared with Catra, bleary-eyed and yawning, and ensconced herself by Glimmer’s side over a cup of tea.
And much as it pained her to admit—
When they arrived at La Fenice to find Bow and Catra waiting for them, the former boiling over with details of the opera they were about to see (romance; tragedy; pirates; mistaken identity; the usual, in other words), the latter leaning casually against a pillar, her tail toying with the tails of her coat; when Adora kissed Catra hello, right there on the steps of the opera house, and afterwards Catra smiled triumphantly over Adora’s shoulder—
Glimmer winked at her and watched triumph turn to confusion.
Much as it pained her to admit, she wanted those moments, too.
It was a little unusual, perhaps.
But it worked.
*
Adora woke up in the middle of the night to find Catra gone.
That was the sort of thing that might have caused some anxiety, but Adora found her old instincts reasserting themselves. Catra had never had much respect for night as a time for sleeping. Still. Something drew her out, when other nights she might have rolled over and gone back to sleep.
She sat up, wrapped her night-gown tighter around herself. The motion dislodged something from the bed, startling her with a dull thud, but it was only the now-empty box she’d picked up on Murano. The room was cold. Colder than it should have been, even in the middle of January. It took a few seconds of her eyes adjusting to the dark before she realised why.
The palazzo Glimmer was renting fronted onto a narrower canal, the sort of canal that could barely be seen from dry land. It wasn’t like the buildings on the Grand Canal, with their balconies as public as a theatre stage. It was smaller, more private. There were balconies nonetheless, however, and the door onto theirs was wide open.
Adora could tell by the way Catra’s closer ear twitched that she’d been heard the moment she stepped onto the balcony, yet Catra remained where she was. In the darkness she looked like a statue, perched impossibly on the stone railing with the balance that had made short work of the rooftops of London. Her tail was wrapped around herself.
More private or not, Adora wasn’t sure she would dare be out in the open in nothing but the shirt she’d worn the day before. ‘You know, if you’re cold, you can button your shirt up.’
Catra’s tail stretched out towards Adora. ‘You should go back. I’ll be along.’ In months previous, the words would have been tinged with bitterness. Now they were thoughtful.
Adora leaned on the railing next to her, back to the water. Catra didn’t look at her—her gaze was fixed on the canal—but that was okay. ‘I’ll go if you want me to. But I don’t mind the cold.’ Catra shrugged. The motion made her shirt slip off one shoulder. Adora reached out and tugged it up again. ‘Is something on your mind?’
‘Lots of things,’ Catra said.
Adora sighed. ‘All right, is something specific on your mind that you’d like to talk about?’
‘Maybe.’ Catra’s lips quirked.
‘Would you like to talk around it for a bit until I can guess what’s bothering you?’
Catra snorted. ‘See, this is why I like you.’
It was difficult not to smile. ‘I know.’
They were silent for a time. Adora found the cold genuinely did not bother her: she felt it, yes, but in that moment it was peaceful. In the distance she could hear vague noises, the dampened sounds of a city at night, but in the space between them there was nothing but the echo of water on stone.
Presently Catra said, ‘this is more than friendship. More than love. You know that, right? We belong to each other.’
‘I know,’ Adora said quietly.
‘I’ve never doubted that.’
‘I know.’
‘But—I guess—recently I’ve been wondering what that means. What the shape of it is.’
Adora toyed with Catra’s tail, winding it between the fingers of her right hand. It was so normal, so comfortable, she never even thought about it anymore. How odd that a tail would seem unusual to most people. ‘If you want to ask me about her, you can just ask.’
‘Have you slept with her?’ Catra said immediately, as if she’d been waiting for the invitation.
Adora wanted to laugh. Why was that always the first question? ‘You'd know if I had.’
‘Will you?’
Adora paused. She thought of the scratches Catra left on her back most nights and tried to imagine Glimmer in Catra’s place. The image didn't mesh. She could imagine Glimmer tracing those scratches, though, could imagine the kind of comment she might make—which meant she could imagine herself naked in Glimmer’s company—
Adora pruned the hypotheticals threatening to take over her mind. ‘I don't know,’ she said simply. ‘I don't think that's what she wants from me, though.’
‘What do you want from her?’
‘I want—’ Adora made a frustrated noise. It had been so easy to function on instinct. Putting things into words was harder—but instinct hardly sufficed to mediate between two people, let alone three. ‘It's like this. Being with you is... intoxicating. Overwhelming. Even in the quiet moments. Even just looking at you feels like an active process sometimes, like something I have to devote my attention to.’
Catra smirked. ‘Flatterer.’
Adora ran a hand through Catra's hair. It was more unkempt than she was used to, but the way Catra sighed and leaned into her, unguarded and relaxed, made it smoothest silk. ‘You are gorgeous,’ Adora murmured. (And even after weeks of sleeping together, how strange to speak what had spent so long unspoken—but it was true, and Adora no longer had any reason to hide it.) ‘But that's not what I meant. For so long you were the only truly good thing in my life, and it was so easy to lose myself in you. You’d make me forget the rest of the world existed, and that's... well, it's not always a good thing.’ Adora made a face. ‘How big a fool am I making of myself right now?’
‘Pretty big,’ Catra said, but she sounded distracted, as if her heart wasn’t quite in the teasing. ‘I don't want you to lose yourself. In me or anywhere else.’
‘There, see? That's what I need from Glimmer.’
‘A map?’
Adora snorted. ‘If you like. She makes me feel... balanced, that’s all. I could never have acknowledged how I felt about you if it hadn’t been for her.’
‘Mmm. You need her because I'm too much for you to handle alone.’
‘That is not what I meant.’
‘If you say so.’ Catra waggled her eyebrows. Adora briefly considered pushing her off the balcony. ‘Do I have to like her?’
‘Don’t you?’
‘I like getting on her nerves. Does that count?’
Surprise made Adora laugh, loud and awkward in the night. ‘It’s a start.’ She poked one of Catra’s feet. ‘You know, I didn’t expect this from you. You’re supposed to be the smug, confident one.’
‘Oh, well, obviously.’ Catra waved a hand dismissively. ‘I just want to make sure I stay in front.’
‘Uh-huh.’
Catra grinned at her. ‘But really. I just—I expected it to be harder, I guess. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.’
Adora said, ‘What can I do to reassure you?’
Catra’s voice when she finally answered was neither smug nor confident. ‘Tell me you’re mine. You—you don’t need to just be mine. But I…’ A shadow passed across her face. ‘I need to hear it sometimes.’
‘I’m yours,’ Adora said without hesitation. ‘And no one’s trying to take me away from you. Not anymore. You don’t have to worry about losing to Glimmer. She’s not even playing the same game. I know it’s not quite what you expected—I know it’s not what I expected, but, Catra, you make me happy. I’m never going to forget that first night in Paris.’
Catra smirked. ‘What about Turin?’
‘I’m never going to forget that, either,’ Adora said, trying to hide her blush. ‘And I’m never going to forget that you didn’t give up on me. Let the other shoe drop, if it wants to. We’ll get through it. I love you, Catra, and I’m not going to let you go, not without one hell of a fight.’
Catra’s tail tightened around her wrist. Adora glanced up.
The expression on Catra’s face was one of her rarest: open, vulnerable, the faintest hint of colour rising in her cheeks. Adora offered her hand. Catra took it and hopped off the railing, something unspoken passing between them as they held each other, close and quiet, through the steps of an unheard waltz.
‘Thank you,’ Catra whispered. The words were as fervent as her kiss a moment later was gentle, almost shy. It was unlike her, but it fit the occasion.
‘You’re welcome.’ Adora smiled against Catra’s lips. ‘Now I’m cold, though, and there’s an empty bed in there crying out for you to warm me up.’
Catra’s smile was wide and pointy and fearless.
*
The next morning Catra woke before Adora for the first time in weeks.
She got out of bed, thankful for the thick carpet muffling her footsteps, and dressed in silence. It was only a precaution—she knew, somehow, that Adora was sleeping soundly, that it would be at least an hour yet before she rose, happy and rested. Still. No need to worry her. Catra unfolded the writing desk, scribbled a quick note, and tucked it between the pillow and Adora’s arm.
She closed the door carefully behind her on her way out. Then she set out in search of breakfast and conversation.
She found Glimmer three bridges away, sitting outside a café in a tiny square of the sort that Venice was full of. Without waiting for an invitation, she pulled up a chair and sat down. The sun, she noted with satisfaction, was behind her, and Glimmer had to squint as she looked up.
‘Where’s Adora?’
Catra leaned back with studied insouciance. ‘Sleeping me off.’
Glimmer snorted. ‘Are you sure you’re being thorough enough? I think you might have missed a few shreds of her virtue.’
‘Careful,’ Catra drawled. ‘I might think you’re jealous.’
She didn’t really mean it, of course, and she was pretty sure Glimmer knew that, too. But she hadn’t been lying to Adora. Winding Glimmer up was fun.
‘Not unless you’re planning on making a habit of hijacking my mornings.’
‘Too much effort. This is a one-off.’
‘I’m touched,’ Glimmer said in a tone that suggested the opposite, just as a server materialised by her shoulder. Glimmer said something in flawless Italian and the man disappeared again. ‘I hope you like coffee,’ she added.
‘You really are the perfect gentlewoman,’ Catra said, making sure her grin was only half-mocking.
Glimmer sighed, but it was an exaggerated sound. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’
‘I had a letter from Scorpia the other day,’ Catra answered promptly. ‘She’s in Florence with Entrapta. Can I invite them to stay?’
Glimmer blinked. ‘Yes, of course you can,’ she said, in a normal sort of tone. ‘Sorry, I thought—’
‘I was just here to be annoying?’
‘Exactly.’
The server returned with two tiny cups. Catra cradled hers between her hands. The light was pretty this time of day, she reflected. Perhaps mornings weren’t so bad.
‘You know,’ Glimmer said eventually, ‘you didn’t have to ask. I know it’s my money—’
‘Your mother’s money.’
‘My mother’s money renting the palazzo, but there’s plenty of space. I don’t want you to feel…’ Glimmer trailed off, frowned minutely. ‘Constrained.’
‘Oh, I don’t,’ Catra said. ‘I just thought I’d try being polite for once.’
Glimmer regarded her dubiously. ‘Is that really the only reason you came out here?’
Catra leaned forward. ‘No,’ she said. ‘One other thing. Some day down the line, things aren’t going to be as easy as they are now. We’re going to disagree about something. We’re going to rub up against each other the wrong way. And when that happens, I trust Adora. I trust that she can work things out with you, and I know that she can work things out with me. But.’ Catra raised a finger. ‘I don’t trust that you can work things out with me.’
‘Thanks,’ Glimmer said drily.
‘Or that I can work things out with you,’ Catra went on. ‘So let’s make a deal, right now. I don’t know that we’re ever going to truly like each other—’
‘I don’t know,’ Glimmer said, half-smiling. ‘I liked you quite a bit when you got that cellar door open.’
For some reason that brought Catra up short. ‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘You weren’t so bad yourself.’ She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. ‘Have I ever thanked you… ?’
‘You haven’t,’ Glimmer said, ‘but that’s fine. Adora does it for you.’
Catra cleared her throat. That didn’t seem fair. ‘Well, thank you, regardless.’
‘You’re welcome. You were going to say?’
‘Right. Whether or not we like each other, I want to agree that we’re not going to ruin this for all of us. If there’s a problem, we’re going to work it out before it becomes too big. Deal?’
Glimmer studied her, as if trying to work out if she was being teased. ‘Deal,’ she said eventually.
‘Good, then. Good.’ Catra felt suddenly awkward. ‘What happens now?’
‘Now we drink our coffee. Then we can make plans to welcome your friends to Venice. After that’—Glimmer spread her arms wide—‘what’s the phrase? The world is our oyster.’
‘Adora and I had a list,’ Catra said, unsure even as she said it why she was volunteering this information. ‘When we were young. Of places we wanted to see.’
‘Did you?’ Glimmer grinned, as if imagining the two of them together, young and naïve and full of possibilities, brought her joy. ‘Where was next on the list?’
‘Lisbon,’ Catra said. Then she frowned. ‘Or Morocco. I can’t remember exactly.’
‘Well, then.’ Glimmer reached into her pocket and drew out a shiny silver coin. She offered it to Catra palm up. ‘Do you want to flip a coin?’
Catra flipped the coin. It hung in the air for a moment, shining with not just two but a hundred different possibilities, a thousand different paths folding and unfolding before her—
All of them good.