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A time honoured tradition amongst the living royalty of the Nine Houses – with one glaring exception – was their weekly ‘karaoke night’. It was a needed break from their duties, and mandatory to keep from going insane. Coronabeth had once said that if her only social interaction was with We Suffer and Pash she was going to kill everyone in the city, and then probably kill herself. She had been very drunk.
Gideon enjoyed karaoke night for similar, if entirely different reasons. She doubted she would attempt anything quite so drastic if she didn’t get healthy, normal social interaction with people her age, but it was still good to get away from her dad and his fingers and gestures every once in a while. Baring Ianthe, of course.
Plus, it was good to see Cam and Pal.
Usually.
Tonight was testing that friendship.
Gideon knew everything was about to go wrong when Camilla arrived alone.
“Is he dead?” Gideon asked, when Cam sat down beside her. Her lips twisted, as if unwell or suppressing a smile, but otherwise she remained entirely unperturbed. Classic Camilla Hect.
“He’s waiting for someone,” she said.
That got Gideon’s attention. Things had become rote quite some time ago, as routine turned everything it touched into a boring pile of paperwork and only the occasional swing of a sword. She leaned in and raised an eyebrow.
“Waiting for who?”
Camilla mimed sealing her lips.
“That’s not fair. I’ll duel you for it.”
Camilla shook her head. Her mouth did quirk up this time. “You have no cause, First. Besides, I’d win.”
Gideon was still grumbling as the twins joined them.
“Why is Sextus standing out in the cold? Did you two have a bit of a tiff?” Ianthe Tridentarius said, her sheet of hair appearing as limp as a wet rag. She carefully moved a strand out of her eye.
Nobody had ever really explained to Gideon why the Third House continued to grace them all with their presence. She had pieced together something about Camilla and Coronabeth being friends, which seemed wrong, but that didn’t explain why Ianthe had to come along. She saw enough of her at work.
“Don’t be silly,” Coronabeth started, but Camilla was already speaking.
“No. A friend of his is coming. I’ll go get us drinks.”
And then she was gone. Leaving Gideon with the scariest sisters in the Nine Houses.
“A friend?” Corona asked. Gideon shrugged.
“She wouldn’t tell me. So please, let us talk about anything else.”
Ianthe smirked. Leaned forward.
“So, Gonad, were you aware that your dear old dad has been sleeping with my boss?”
Gideon slammed her head on the table in front of her.
--
Camilla returned and nudged Gideon over until she was forced to sit up.
“You know, Ianthe,” Coronabeth said, looking at her sister with love and hate all at the same time. “I think I know who Palamedes has decided to invite along.”
Ianthe raised an eyebrow, but it was the only interest she deigned to show.
“He has been spending an awful lot of time with a certain necromancer. Shared studies, I believe. You know the one.”
Ianthe’s disinterest shifted, and now she looked almost happy. It was a sickening look on her. Gideon told her as much.
“Shut up Gonad. We’re colleagues, and dare I say by now we might even be friends. You can tolerate a little bit of excitement. This necromancer Sextus has been working with is quite the deviant.”
“I do not want to hear about Sex Pal’s sex pals.”
Camilla reached across the table to pluck some lint off of Ianthe’s open chested shirt. How an imperfection had even gotten there was anybody’s guess, and Gideon was more focused on the absolute balls on Camilla Hect to care anyway.
“It’s not like that, First. And besides, the Saint of Awe doesn’t know the first thing about the Warden’s friend. She struck out with her.”
“I did not!”
Gideon let herself laugh at Ianthe’s childish tone. That was going to get brought up the moment Palamedes arrived. There was no way in hell Gideon was letting Ianthe Tridentarius forget that she was the ugly duckling of Ida that couldn’t even get with some nerdy necromancer.
“Look alive,” Cam said. Gideon took a swig of her drink, and did her best to look like the prince her dad insisted she was. It was not mandatory to appear even a little professional, but Gideon was sick of making bad impressions upon first meetings.
She needn’t have worried.
Palamedes made his way over to their table. His pale and grey clothes were broken only by the spot of colour that were his glasses on his face. He was smiling wide, and called out to them with great enthusiasm.
He introduced the nun stalking alongside him, but he didn’t need to.
Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House. Dressed head to toe in black, though instead of the robes Gideon remembered her in her clothes almost appeared casual. She wore her usual mask of paint – not so simple to disrespect, but not so elegant to imply time wasted. Her face was neutral, even when it focused on Gideon’s, which was surely aghast. And her eyes.
Gideon blinked away from them.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” was the first thing Gideon felt crawl out of her mouth. That managed to twist Harrowhark’s face into something less than calm.
“Nav,” she bit out in response.
“And that’s Gideon, though you already know her,” Palamedes had been saying, though he stopped to glance between the two of them.
It clicked into place.
“You knew?” Gideon asked. Pal’s face contorted a little. Oh, bless him, he thought he was doing everyone a favour. Cam elbowed her, and that at least reminded Gideon to close her mouth.
“Harry,” Ianthe said smilingly. “Welcome to the worst night of your life.”
Harrowhark glared at Gideon, then directed that spiteful look towards Ianthe. Actually, it might have only turned fully into spite as it focused onto the blue and brown eyes that were sunken into Ianthe’s skull.
“With you here, Tridentarius, I’m sure it will be.”
Ianthe’s detached persona returned, and Gideon grinned.
“Ouch, Ianthe. She’s already figured out how much of a drain on karaoke night you are. Also, Harry?”
Harrow whirled that glare back around to her, and Gideon hated to admit how good it felt to be under such scrutiny again.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I refuse to call you that.”
“If only you refused to speak at all,” Harrow spat back, and Gideon flopped her head to one side, holding a hand against her chest in mock injury.
Pal and Cam exchanged a glance. They would, wouldn’t they?
“So, you two were friends?” Coronabeth asked. She managed to make the question seem scandalous. Gideon nodded.
“Yop,” Gideon said.
“No,” Harrow said.
Coronabeth laughed. Ianthe leaned forward, a vulture with carrion. Camilla kept her thoughts to herself, though Gideon was sure Palamedes knew them without even looking. Speaking of, Sex Pal adjusted his glasses and grimaced.
“Then what were you?” Corona asked, still smiling. It had taken Gideon a long time to realise that she was a vulture too. The twins were the unholy pairing of vulture and peacock – Coronabeth just got mostly peacock.
Harrowhark’s face was a mask. Long ago, Gideon might have been able to get glimpses beneath the black and white paint, beneath the vizard of the Reverend Daughter. Gideon watched her eyes absorb the light of the room, and gripped on to her leg to keep herself from tumbling in.
“We dated,” was what eventually emerged from Harrow’s thin lips. Gideon grinned.
“So that did pass for dating in the depths of hell! I’m glad to finally have that answered for me, oh gloomy one.”
Gideon felt, rather than saw, the other members of what could, at a stretch, be called a ‘friend group’ look at each other. To her dismay, and great pleasure, Harrow continued to look at her.
“It was all I thought you could handle, Griddle.”
Blood rushed to Gideon’s face. She laughed, though it came out choked. God damn Nonagesimus. Well done. She opened her mouth to reply, but Camilla stamped on her foot. All that came out was a squeak, and by then Harrow was being dragged into conversation by Palamedes.
Gideon hated when the Sixth House worked as a united front.
“What do you two think you’re doing?” Gideon hissed.
“Palamedes is the one who is friends with the Ninth. Do you want to tell me what your history is?”
Gideon did not.
Harrowhark Nonagesimus was a horrible night queen that had made Gideon’s childhood a living hell. She was also, paradoxically, younger than her, and was as much a victim of circumstance as Gideon was. She was also also Gideon’s first love.
Camilla stared at Gideon for a long time. It was a burrowing feeling, one that Gideon knew meant that Cam was cataloguing every minor move, every small twitch, that Gideon’s face and body betrayed. So Gideon pretended to be dead, and didn’t even let her breath escape her lips for a long moment.
“Alright then. I’ll just start talking, and you nod if I get anything right. You were raised on the Ninth. You were cavalier primary. You made the mistake of falling in -”
Gideon brought her hand around to smack Camilla in the head, though it was half-hearted. Cam blocked it easily, but at least she stopped talking.
“I promise to talk about it later. But not here for God’s sake.”
Camilla bent Gideon’s fingers back, almost far enough for them to snap. Then she released them.
“Alright, Gideon Nav. I will hold you to that.”
Harrow locked eyes with Gideon across the table. She opened her mouth, as if to speak. Nope.
“I’ll go grab us more drinks,” Gideon said, and then she was off.
This was terrible. No good. Bad. Grim – yeah, grim was definitely the word for it. Gideon was notoriously bad at controlling herself in general, but around Harrowhark? Gideon wiped her hands, wet from something, on her pants.
Palamedes Sextus and Camilla Hect. She wished they would just lyctorise already, so that she could worry about both of them at once.
By the time she returned, the group was starting to get about as rowdy as they were capable of.
“I don’t believe it, Harry. You really dated Gammon?” Ianthe was saying. Gideon rolled her eyes and passed out drinks.
She placed Harrow’s drink in front of her, and went and sat down. She rigidly ignored whatever it was Harrowhark was saying. Then stiffly ignored Harrow’s eyes trying to lock with hers.
Instead, Gideon kicked Pal’s leg.
“Ow?” he said.
“Go sing your songs. I know you’re dying to do it. And you had better get in first before the Princess of Ida does.”
Palamedes narrowed his eyes.
“I know the Reverend Daughter very well,” he started. Gideon scowled.
“Not well enough. I don’t care what studies you two have been undertaking – I have known her far longer. She was a scourge in my side for my entire childhood.” She was more to Gideon than anything. “She is dangerous and cold-hearted. She is evil.”
Palamedes looked about as convinced as most people did when they were confronted with the amount of horror stuffed into the small package of Harrow’s angular, scrawny, bird-legged body.
“But,” he continued, as if Gideon had never spoken. “She is a very closed off person. Yet when I mentioned you, she was insistent on coming. Talk to her. It could not have been that bad of a break-up.”
“Would you be okay if Camilla dumped you?”
Gideon knew the Sixth weren’t romantically entangled. Their love wasn’t like that. But the message got across. Almost.
Palamedes adjusted his glasses.
“Did she dump you?”
And then he was getting up, dragging Camilla with him.
What. The fuck.
The Sixth performed one of their go to songs, something that apparently got a lot of radio play back at the Library. They didn’t come back immediately, and it looked like they were having a whispered discussion about something important.
It had better not be her love life.
“You’re not going to sing, Harrowhark?” Corona said. Harrow shook her head.
“Not unless you want to hear pious hymns,” Gideon said petulantly. Harrow glared at her, but inclined her head slightly.
“As Nav put it, I’m not one for singing the sorts of songs you’d expect from karaoke.”
“Oh but you absolutely must, Harry. For me?” Ianthe said airily. It made her sound ill. It also made Gideon’s stomach turn, and she worried she might lose her lunch.
“I would never do anything for you Tridentarius.”
Gideon’s stomach stopped twisting and her heart stopped beating and she looked down at her glass, trying to remember what she was drinking – and why it was making her body betray her.
“I’ll sing with you sister,” Corona said, and grabbed Ianthe heavily around the arm. Ianthe did not look like she wanted to leave Gideon and Harrow alone, and frankly, the feeling was mutual. But Ianthe’s attraction to the Reverend Daughter was apparently outweighed by her love for Coronabeth, and soon they were gone.
“Reverend Daughter,” Gideon said, if only because she knew it would piss Harrow off.
“Nav.”
“It’s actually Gaia now. Formalities and all.”
Harrow looked like she was grinding her teeth down into dust. It filled Gideon with a certain amount of joy knowing that Harrowhark was just as effected by Cam and Pal’s actions as she was.
“I’m not calling you that,” Harrow said moodily. Her tone forced Gideon into minor palpitations.
“Well, you certainly lost the right to call me anything else years ago, right?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“And what does that mean?”
Gideon scowled.
“It means that you’re a colossal bitch, Harrow, and you might not have known that I’d be here, but you’re sticking around and I’m not leaving, so we had better establish some ground rules.”
Gideon did not accept that Palamedes told Harrowhark that she was a part of this group. He had said it, and he rarely lied, but there was no way Harrow would be here if she had known. They had too much baggage for that to be true.
“If you must know, I actually refused to come. Then the Warden mentioned that you’d be here, and I changed my mind. But if you’d rather I call you Kiriona Gaia, the Tower Prince, then I guess I can do that.”
Palamedes hadn’t lied. Gideon felt bile in her throat, and her vision turned red.
“So, what? You came here to crush me underneath your heel even more? Couldn’t let me escape from you, could you?”
Harrow slammed her hands on the table. Gideon could still barely tell what she was actually feeling below her sacramental skull. She stood up and smoothed her hands down her black clothes.
“Fine! I’ll leave.”
And then she was walking away. Gideon looked up, and saw the Sixth and the Third watching. Shit.
Shit.
Against all better reasoning, Gideon took a step into insanity, and got up herself. She hurried after Harrow.
--
Harrowhark was leaning against a wall near the bathrooms, her eyes closed and her jaw tight.
“Harrow,” Gideon said. Harrow sighed.
“I do not understand you,” Harrow said. “You have ignored me all night, except on those occasions when you can belittle me. And then I upset you, and you still insist on following me.”
Gideon shrugged. She felt like she was doing that a lot tonight.
“I don’t understand myself either.”
She leaned on the wall next to Harrow. They stood there for a long time in silence.
“If you knew I was here, why were you so angry?”
Gideon was treading in dangerous territory right now. She could easily take back the question, just ask if Harrow wanted to go back to the group, and leave it at that. But she had to know. Risk to life and limb did not make that curiosity go away.
“You did not seem happy to see me. Which, I suppose was expected, you having always hated the Ninth, but I think I had deluded myself into thinking you ever cared about me.”
And that was a massive sucker punch to the gut.
“Are you kidding me? I followed you, one step behind, for months as your cavalier. Do you really think I would have done that if I hadn’t cared?”
“Then why did you leave?”
Gideon felt the return of that old, branding anger. She pushed off the wall and spun to face Harrow, pointing an aggressive finger in her direction.
“Why did I leave? After everything you put me through, before and after? You tortured me, Harrowhark. You used me up, and even when we were ‘dating’ it didn’t get much better. You said it yourself, I hated the Ninth. Once you made it clear I was nothing, what reason did I have to stay?
“And then you come back in here, looking for, what? Retribution? An apology? I thought you were over this.”
Gideon pointed between the two of them.
“When did I make you think you were nothing?” Harrow said, her voice harsh and wet.
“What? What? You didn’t want me, Harrowhark. I offered you everything, and you turned me down. We could have saved the Ninth, but you didn’t want lyctorhood on anyone’s terms but your own.”
Harrow reached out, and Gideon almost expected to be slapped. Instead, Harrow’s hand only grasped onto her wrist. Gideon halfheartedly tried to pull away, sick of being embarrassed by her relationship – or lack thereof – with Harrowhark. Harrow did not let go.
“You thought I didn’t want you? Is that what you think of being a Lyctor? Tell me, do you think Ianthe and Naberius’s relationship is healthy? Or Ianthe and Coronabeth, for that fucking matter?”
“At least they have a relationship! At least they’re both here, supporting Ianthe, and not slinking back up from the shadows after years leaving me alone, just to make my night a living hell!”
Gideon pulled away, Harrow’s hand all but burned into her skin. She took a deep breath, trying not to explode. Then she looked at Harrow’s eyes.
Harrow’s eyes were deep. Ocean trenches were an apt comparison. Endless night sky, devoid of all stars. Of course, Gideon could imagine stars within. She always had. The gravity of those eyes were a force of nature, and they pulled, and pulled, and pulled.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I’m ruining your perfect life away from the Ninth, you poor excuse for a cavalier, and I’m sorry that I came here at all!” Harrow was saying. Her top lip seemed to quiver a little, her whole face contorted into an angry frown.
That wouldn’t do. Gideon felt her anger wash away.
Entering the event horizon of Harrowhark Nonagesimus was easy, and Gideon stopped clinging to the precipice.
She leaned down and kissed Harrow firmly on the lips.
An angry squeak pulled Gideon’s head out of her ass.
She blinked a few times, and looked down at Harrow. Who was still frowning at her. Gideon fought for something to say, maybe something full of rage, but nothing appeared on her tongue.
Harrowhark glared at her.
“What the fuck is your problem?” she yelled.
Then she was pushing her backwards. Gideon let her until she felt herself press against the wall of the hallway. Her face flushed red as Harrow fisted her hands into Gideon’s collar.
“Huh,” she said.
“You are a disgusting moron,” Harrow said, and then she jumped her.
Harrow’s mouth still tasted the same.
It was blood and paint. It was thrill and shame. It was hot as all hell. Harrowhark wrapped her arms around Gideon’s neck, and Gideon in turn clutched at her former necromancer’s thighs. Harrow’s tongue prodded gently at Gideon’s lips until she parted them, and then it wasn’t so gentle anymore.
Harrowhark Nonagesimus had been intense when they had been together before. Time had not dulled that edge. Her kisses were all tongue and teeth and they made Gideon’s legs weak and made her whole body heat up. When Harrow bit at her bottom lip hard enough that Gideon felt the capillaries start to burst she shivered so hard she almost dropped the smaller girl. She didn’t, but Harrow still stopped long enough to give her a look before she continued.
“Careful, Nav,” she said, and then she got back to what appeared to be very important work.
At any other time, Gideon Nav might have been able to let bygones be bygones and stop thinking. Actually enjoy this, whatever it was. But her mind whirred around one particular, blonde problem.
“Whatever happened to Alecto?” Gideon said as Harrow mouthed at her neck. Harrow pulled back like she had been burned.
“What?” she hissed.
“I’m just saying,” Gideon said.
“Is she why you left? Her, and me not consuming your everlasting soul? What is wrong with you?”
Harrow was starting to get hysterical. Gideon felt her move to pull back even more, but Gideon held on tight. She was not letting go again.
“No,” Gideon said. Harrow glared at her, her hands no longer wrapped around her and instead placed firmly against Gideon’s shoulders.
“Okay, maybe a little. I saw how you were when you spoke about her. Then we had that fight about, you know, you not eating me, and you stormed out to see her. I didn’t even think you thought we were dating, let alone that you’d care if I left.”
Harrow’s heavy breathing lessened. Her frown didn’t leave her face, but Gideon saw its target shift somewhere else. The glare was back to its regular, Harrowhark intensity, annoyed but not enraged. Gideon inched her face forward. Harrow sighed, encircled Gideon’s neck, and kissed her again.
Gideon was confused. She could admit that much to herself. It was not a common emotion since Harrow and her ‘broke up’. Sure, there was plenty she didn’t understand working with her father, but confusion implied a level of investment she just didn’t feel for God.
A pat at her arms made her lower Harrow to the ground. The necromancer clutched onto Gideon’s right hand and tugged her along, pulling her into one of the bathrooms and locking the door. Gideon watched as Harrow took a few deep breaths, her eyes closed, as if she was meditating, and then her burning black eyes were on her again, and so were her lips, and hands, and everything.
Stark and terrible was the realisation, as Gideon let out a soft moan and felt the heat in her body move to her groin, that Gideon had not had another sexual partner since Harrow. It was not that she worried Harrow had fucked around – Gideon was sex positive, okay? And if Alecto hadn’t actually been a threat to their relationship she doubted anyone else was good enough for Harrowhark’s tastes. But that meant she was incredibly pent up. The terrible realisation was, that she wasn’t sure how long she would last.
Harrow crowded Gideon against the wall, kissing her the whole while, her hands gripping and moving along Gideon’s arms. Then she moved to unbuttoning Gideon’s shirt, popping it open to reveal more and more of her scarred breasts. She took a moment then, stepping back to watch Gideon’s chest rise and fall, and Gideon felt her face turn red. It was embarrassingly good to be the focus of Harrowhark’s attention.
Then she was kissing her again. Harrow moved to bite Gideon’s neck, and it was hard, but it was also so good, and Gideon felt an even louder moan escape from her lips.
“Quiet,” Harrow warned, before unbuttoning Gideon’s dress pants and sticking a hand uncharacteristically unceremoniously down her underwear.
Harrow’s mouth moved then to Gideon’s chest. It was a surprise, really, that Gideon felt vulnerable only then. Nonagesimus’s hand was on her clit, rubbing in circles and building a pleasurable pressure, and Gideon only felt like she was doing something sacrilegious once Harrow wrapped her lips around her left nipple and sucked . Gideon couldn’t helped it. She moaned. It was filthy. Get over it.
Gideon allowed Harrow a moment of that, she wasn’t monstrous enough to keep a girl from her perfect tits, but then she tugged on her jaw a little.
“Ah, Harrow, get back up here,” she said, and to her shock, the Reverend Daughter complied. With her lips back on Gideon’s mouth, Gideon felt in control of the situation. Or at least, more in control than she had been.
That didn’t last long. Harrow brought her other hand down to Gideon’s cunt, ducked down slightly – she was a shorty, after all – and then slipped two, or maybe three, fingers inside, and started pumping.
Gideon lasted all of another ten seconds. She would only later remember saying Harrow’s name a few times, plus a number of other filthy things, and then she was undone. It was a sudden, wild thing, and she had to bite down on her own fist to keep from crying out. Instead it was more of a whimper, and then she felt her legs get wobbly. At first she collapsed forward onto Harrow, who jolted at the weight, stumbling backwards, which forced Gideon to step away and sit down onto the toilet, of all places.
Harrow looked smug as fuck, and frankly, who could blame her. Gideon couldn’t even find it in herself to feel embarrassed, at least once she had buttoned her shirt back up.
“Holy shit,” she said. “What’d I do to deserve that?”
“You are perpetually blind, Griddle. What are you smiling at?”
Gideon hadn’t realised she was grinning until Harrow tried to disintegrate her with her eyes. Gideon wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, pulling back grease and paint with it. Harrow’s eyebrows shot up her enormous forehead. She whipped around and appraised herself in the mirror. She looked suitably debauched. Without skipping a beat, Harrow scrunched up some paper towel in her hands, ripping it out of its holder, and started to wipe at her face. Gideon felt her whole body tense up. She moved off the toilet and busied herself with pulling up and buttoning her pants.
Careful to not look back into the mirror too much, Gideon watched as Harrowhark produced at cosmetic jar and started to reapply her paints. It was, as always, with perfect accuracy.
“Do you not want a turn?” Gideon asked. She felt like a perfect moron. Harrow rolled her eyes.
“I will not let everyone out there know we just had sex in this nightmarish bathroom. We’ve been gone far too long already.”
“Right.”
Gideon nudged Harrow out of the way to wash her hands. After a beat, one where she did her best to swim through the mire of disappointment and bliss she was feeling, she unlocked the door and shouldered out of the bathroom.
It was with no small amount of relief that Gideon arrived to a table empty of the twins, although the look Cam was giving her tempered that a little. She retook her seat and downed her drink in one go, hoping the burn would replace everything else she was feeling.
“Where’s Harrow?” Palamedes asked. Gideon shrugged.
“She’s somewhere. I tried to talk to her, she yelled at me, then I stormed off. Maybe she left.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Cam said, nodding towards the hallway to the bathrooms.
Standing there was Harrow. She looked exactly the same as she had when she stormed away. Gideon was sure of it. But the look she sent Gideon’s way as she made her way over was almost completely new. Gideon shifted underneath the heat of it.
“I think she changed her paint,” Cam said under her breath. Loud enough for Gideon to hear. Then she smiled. An actual smile, from the most serious Sixth.
Harrow sat down, her eyes darting around warily.
“I apologise for my outburst. It was uncomely.”
Gideon sputtered on Cam’s drink, which she was in the process of stealing. Her cheeks flamed as Harrow’s foot met her leg underneath the table. Holy shit. An honest to goodness sex joke, from the Reverend Daughter, and Gideon couldn’t even say anything .
Camilla frowned at her drink, which was now truly contaminated. Gideon did her best to look sheepish.
“Thanks,” Cam said. “That one’s all yours, First.”
Palamedes was rushing to Harrow’s defence.
“You’re quite alright, Nonagesimus. Gideon often knows how to get under our skins, and I’m guessing she must know your weak points best?”
Harrow did not take those stupid black eyes off of Gideon’s.
“She does.”
“Well, that was quite a performance from you two,” Ianthe said, sitting down between Gideon and Camilla. Harrow was now across the table from both of them, and Ianthe leaned forward. “You got the whole room to look at you, after that outburst Harry.”
Harrow rolled her eyes, and her ministrations on Gideon’s thigh stopped.
“Yes, everybody cares deeply about my lack of formality. That’s why you’re allowed to call me Harry.”
Ianthe giggled. Gideon gagged.
“Leave them alone, Ianthe,” Corona said.
“Oh, I am. I am the pinnacle of disinterest.”
Corona put her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes so hard they threatened to jump out of their beautiful little sockets.
“You are failing to convince anyone that you don’t care immensely that Her Divine Highness and the Reverend Daughter have fucked.”
Gideon cringed. The names were bad, and referencing them having sex was too close to the truth, but honestly, it hurt to hear Ianthe get so miserably dismantled by her sister. The pallid twin must have really pissed Coronabeth off.
“Judith has been a bad influence on you,” Ianthe said, her face contorting into something entirely unlike her. Gideon would have to ask her about that later.
“Quit it you two,” Camilla said. Ianthe squared her jaw and rolled her eyes. Coronabeth smiled broadly.
“Whatever, Hect,” Ianthe said. And then they all delved into conversation about something or another.
Not that Gideon could pay attention anymore, falling into Harrow’s eyes again, her foot still searchingly moving up her leg. Worst than that, Harrowhark seemed unaffected, and was actually participating in the conversation. Little miss no social skills her ass.
Yikes. The alcohol was really starting to hit her.
“Gideon?” Pal said concernedly. Gideon blinked and shook her head.
“Huh?”
“I said, do you want to sing?”
Gideon yawned. Did a big show of it with the arms and everything.
“Nah, I’m good. I’m honestly quite tired, so I think I might go home.”
Palamedes frowned. “Okay. How many drinks have you had?”
Gideon looked down at Camilla’s drink in front of her. She finished it.
“Not enough, but I certainly can’t drive. No idea how I’m going to get home then.”
“I’ll take you home,” Harrowhark said, raising her eyebrow. Gideon couldn’t help the crooked smile that etched across her face. Attagirl. The liquor in her system was absolutely, definitely to blame for all the bad decisions she was about to be making.
“Why of course, my osseous lady. Your place or mine?”
Ianthe seemed to actually choke on her drink. Harrow ignored Gideon’s question, and stood up. She nodded at Palamedes and the others.
“To those of you I had not yet met, this was a lovely night. I’ll do it again, if only to see Griddle sing. Ianthe, rot in hell.”
And with that, she turned around and glided towards the door. Gideon hurried to follow.
“Just to be clear, I fucking hate you two,” she said to the Sixth. She turned to Ianthe and shrugged.
“Sorry?” she said, and felt she almost meant it. “Bye everyone.”
As she reached the exit, she smiled even wider as Ianthe’s shriek filled the room.
“Already?”
--
Harrow’s place was a sepulchral palace. Dotted with bones, black curtains covering the windows, it was heavenly for someone of Harrow’s almost undead temperment. It was also dangerous for Gideon. She could clearly remember their childhoods, the outcomes of their fights contingent on if Harrow had enough bone matter nearby. Gideon picked up one of the skulls sitting on a dresser and pointed it at Harrow. She bobbed it up and down as she made it speak.
“What have you done to my dick?” the skull said.
Harrow rolled her eyes. Then in one singular motion, her tunic was on the floor.
“I hate your sense of humour,” she said, and she took a step closer. Gideon found herself smiling, and she cocked her hip to the side.
“Sure you do. If I make another joke will your tits come out?”
Harrow looked towards the door and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. Gideon felt something warm explode in her stomach. It was ridiculous, that after all this time, Harrowhark’s air of pompous dignity still did it for her.
“You can walk home right now if you’d like,” Harrow said, flippant as ever.
Gideon placed a hand on Harrow’s waist and watched in delight as she gave a slight shudder.
“So, bedroom?”
“If you insist,” Harrow said.
Gideon leaned down and kissed Harrow for a long while, familiarising herself with the necromancer’s mouth. Harrow let out a soft sigh that made Gideon’s body light on fire. It was a just punishment that in return Gideon got to hear her squeak when Gideon lifted her bodily off the floor and slung her up into her arms. Harrowhark clutched at Gideon’s arms, nails digging deep into the flesh of her biceps.
“Griddle! Put me down!”
Gideon smirked as she moved into the bedroom and tossed Harrow onto the bed before diving in after her. She hovered over Harrow, arms braced to either side of her pointy little face, and cocked an eyebrow. With slow movements, careful not to spook her, Gideon brought one of her hands up and wiped at Harrowhark’s chin. Paint came away on her hand, revealing tawny skin and pink lips. Grinning, Gideon ducked down and kissed her.
“You have such a vicious little mouth, you know that?” Gideon said, before kissing Harrow again and pulling at her bottom lip with her teeth.
“And you think you’re so smooth,” Harrow huffed. Gideon kissed her again.
“Proving my point, you bone loving freak.”
Gideon moved to work at Harrowhark’s jaw, then her neck, then her collarbones. In between, she couldn’t help but continue to run her mouth.
“I had never expected sexual innuendo to come out of the Reverend Daughter’s mouth. You should have started doing that years ago, if you had wanted me to stick around.”
Harrow growled and her fingers gripped angrily at Gideon’s shirt. She didn’t get a chance to berate Gideon, however, because Gideon used that moment to breathe over Harrow’s bra. Her nipples were completely visible through it.
“Off?” Gideon asked.
“Yes,” Harrow said, doing her best to sneer. She was usually a natural at it, but she faltered now in the delivery.
Gideon grabbed the bra with one hand and ripped it off, discarding it to the side. Harrow didn’t even protest, just wrapped a hand around Gideon’s hair and guided her back down to her chest. Not one to disobey the Reverend Daughter in important matters such as these, Gideon took one of Harrow’s nipples in her mouth and circled it with her tongue before quickly biting down on it.
Harrow, who seemed to be doing her very best not to make any noise, moaned openly at that. Gideon continued her open worship, and brought her hand to play with Harrow’s other nipple. Harrow’s moans grew louder in response.
“Again, a vicious mouth,” Gideon said. Harrow moaned in ire, and pulled on Gideon’s hair. Gideon groaned in response.
“Do you ever shut up?” Harrow asked. Gideon laughed.
“Have you really forgotten our adolescence so quickly?”
“I don’t remember you being this unreserved. It’s – profoundly annoying.”
Gideon sucked on her necromancer’s tit, destroying Harrowhark’s ability to speak. She writhed, and Gideon put a stop to that by fully laying down, capturing Harrow’s body entirely underneath her.
“You were saying?”
Harrow glared down at her, her face flush. At some point, she had brought her arm up to wipe at sweat on her forehead, and her paint was even more smeared than it had been before.
“I can think of something useful you could do with your mouth,” Harrow said. Gideon swallowed. Wow. Well, Gideon did love to be useful.
“Get out of your tight little pants then, Nonagesimus!”
For maybe only the second time that night, Harrow lost her composure. Gideon chivalrously moved off of the smaller woman, and Harrow fully kicked out of her pants. In the meantime, Gideon hurried to shrug off her dress shirt and also discarded her pants. Then she looked back down at Harrow, and she lost her breath. Harrow had removed her pants, revealing simple, black underwear. And they were soaked.
When Gideon didn’t say anything, Harrow frowned, looked away, and crossed her legs.
“Whoa there Harrow. Don’t look like that. Sexiest pair of undies I have ever seen.”
Harrow focused her glare back onto Gideon, which meant she was looking at Gideon again, which was an absolute win.
“And I’ll be shutting up now.”
Rattled, Gideon slipped her fingers under the elastic of Harrow’s underwear and slid them down until she was gazing at Harrow’s pussy.
It was a revelatory experience, seeing Harrow so worked up. They had had sex before, of course, but not like this. A dismantling, almost shocking feeling inched its way up Gideon’s spine. Watching Harrowhark, practically dripping, just as much of a mess as Gideon had been at the bar, made Gideon feel the same way she had after a hard fought fight. Gideon, standing triumphant, having bested dozens upon dozens of bone constructs, Harrowhark across from her, bleeding from the forehead. Gideon, lying over Harrowhark’s wet cunt, watching her heaving breasts and shiny lips.
Gideon was never, ever going to examine that feeling.
Instead, she began undoing Harrow from the inside out.
First, Gideon returned to Harrow’s tiny tits, focusing her mouth onto the poor, unloved left nipple. One hand travelled down Harrow’s side, applying pressure and squeezing in time to her other hand, pinching Harrow’s other, pointed, overstimulated tit. Harrow’s reaction was to writhe on the bed, letting out breathy moans that drove Gideon insane.
“Griddle,” Harrow exhaled.
Second, Gideon moved down Harrow’s skinny form, leaving a trail of kisses and goosebumps, until she reached Harrow’s groin. She turned her head to the side and bit, hard onto her thigh, as if to draw blood, and Harrow screamed. Harrowhark didn’t immediately kill her, so Gideon did it again, enjoying her appetiser.
Eventually, Harrow’s hands clutched into Gideon’s hair and tugged. Bossy as always, Harrow was. That was fine by Gideon. It was time for the main course anyway.
Harrow tasted as amazing as ever. Tart, with a hint of iron. And she was gushing. Gideon pressed her nose against Harrow’s mound and swiped her tongue up and inside of Harrow. She did that a few times, growing accustomed to Harrowhark Nonagesimus for the first time in years, and then worked her tongue on and around Harrow’s clit. That got a reaction greater than the sum of its parts. Gideon could not remember ever making Harrow act like this before. There was no way she had gotten better at this, considering she had never had any practice.
Gideon looked up as she sucked on Harrow’s clit. It was a mistake. Harrowhark looked like a saint, a real one, her head flung back, hair an explosion, face now a blurred mess of grey paint. Her whole body was arched, tight with pleasure, her sharp mouth etched open, and she moved with each stroke of the tongue. Gideon choked a little on her own saliva, trying to get her breathing to return to normal as Harrow’s moans turned high pitch and quiet, as if she could barely get the air needed to make noise. Harrow didn’t seem to notice Gideon falter, and not wanting to disappoint, she redoubled her efforts.
Harrowhark came in shallow motions, her voice catching and her whole body growing still. Gideon felt something run down her chin as Harrow collapsed onto the bed, weightless, and Gideon grinned. Massive compliment, causing another girl to ejaculate. She wiped the discharge from her face and sat up.
Harrow looked up at her, those black hole eyes yet again pulling Gideon in. There was something in those eyes that Gideon couldn’t name. It scared her. Harrow reached out, and Gideon went willingly into her arms. The embrace lasted just long enough for Harrow to catch her breath and kiss Gideon, and then Harrow’s hand was travelling down Gideon’s body.
“I’m not going to last long,” Gideon warned, her voice barely a whisper. Harrow smiled – now, that was really scary – as her fingers encircled Gideon’s clitoris.
“That’s acceptable. I can pull more orgasms from you, that way.”
And she was not wrong.
--
Harrowhark, after an eternity of cuddling that passed in seconds, abandoned Gideon on the bed to have a shower. Her hands lingered on Gideon’s arms as she went, smiling the whole time.
“Don’t go anywhere,” she said.
Gideon had done a remarkable job of not completely panicking. Once Harrow shut the door to her bathroom and Gideon heard the running of water, she was on her feet.
“What’s wrong with you, Gideon Nav?” she muttered under her breath. Was she trying to get herself killed? Or worse, hurt? She stumbled around, piling undergarments into her hands and pulling on pants.
It was no surprise, really, that it was only in post-come clarity that Gideon could see that she had made a colossal mistake. And she couldn’t even blame this night on her lacklustre consumption of alcohol. She had had what, maybe three drinks? Certainly not enough to fall into Harrowhark’s bed. Gideon had done this on purpose. That was worst-case scenario. Code Red. Hit the big button, and wipe this godawful city off the planet.
“Fuck,” Gideon said as she hurried into the living room and hit the ground with a thud. There were tears in her eyes. How had that happened?
She slipped feet into her shoes, steadying herself on the wall with one hand. The shower stopped. Gideon fumbled with the doorknob, but did manage to get it open.
“Griddle?” came Harrow’s voice. It was quiet. She was still in the bathroom. Gideon still had time to leave.
Her body seemed frozen in place, however. She heard the door to Harrow’s bathroom open. Gideon chanced a single glance behind her.
Harrow’s tiny frame was wrapped in a towel, her bony fingers gripping it to her like her life depended on it. Her face was as bare as the day she was born, and for the first time in a long time, Gideon saw Harrow’s emotions written across it. She was sad. A sort of deep, weary sadness that had long ago been burned into her skull, and was now reflected in her face. She was confused. That was not a common emotion on the Reverend Daughter. And more importantly, she was scared.
“Gideon?” she said, her voice cracking. “Stay.”
A moment echoed between them. Gideon turned back to the door. Her back to the most important person in all the Nine Houses.
“Please.”
With a deep, bone-shaking sigh, Gideon closed the door to Harrowhark Nonagesimus’s apartment.