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The night air is welcomingly cool on Temesia’s skin as she steps back into the small clearing where they’ve made their camp. It’s a few days walk back to Holistone, and she isn’t in any rush anymore. Still, the threat of runaway golems is present, present enough to warrant a sweep of the area before they truly settle down to rest.
With Merlin and their hamsters off to whatever adventure awaits them next, Temesia, Lucius, and Atalanta have been left to make the trek by themselves. Not that she’s complaining, really. Without the threat breathing down their backs, the trip is quite pleasant.
Dawn is waiting dutifully at the edge of the campsite, and she snorts softly as Temesia approaches. She notes with gratitude that Lucius- or Atalanta- had taken the time to doff all of her armor, and gives the horse a pat on the snout before stepping into the dim firelight.
Lucius is, impressively, already asleep. Temesia didn’t think she was gone all that long, but his equipment is already neatly piled up against a tree stump, and he’s tucked into a bedroll beside it, snoring away.
Atalanta, though, is still awake. She raises her head in greeting as Temesia finds a spot on one of the fallen logs to sit. She returns the gesture, watching the playful smirk that skitters across Atalanta’s face.
It’s late, and neither of them feel the need to say anything. Sitting down, it dawns on Temesia just how tired she is. Her shoulders and arms ache from the weight of her armor, there’s still a dull throb in her chest from where she’d pulled the Faith Stone out. She’s been fighting off a headache ever since she collapsed hours ago, and it’s beginning to come back with a vengeance. Temesia sets her pack down and flounders around until she finds her waterskin, and she knocks back what’s left of it. Saying a silent apology to her aching bones, she reaches around with a sigh to begin unbuckling her pauldrons.
“Let me do it, Temesia.”
Atalanta speaks quickly, almost as soon as Temesia’s fingers brush the first buckle. She pauses, shock staying her better judgment, which tells her to refuse. Atalanta is not the enemy anymore, that much is true, but it still feels odd to let a woman she’s spent the past five years hating to be so close to her. To, quite literally, rid her of what physical protection remains between them.
She worries at her lip for a moment, watching Atalanta’s face. She’s genuine, patient. She won’t be mad if Temesia says no. They did only truly become friends again this morning, it’s only natural that Temesia is a little hesitant.
But still, what reason does she have to be? Atalanta has saved her life at least twice now. They grew up together, shared pivotal moments side by side. Temesia can still see that shy teenage girl behind her bright green eyes.
Perhaps that’s what makes the last boundary come crumbling down. Temesia exhales quietly, willing her shoulders to relax. “You remember how to do it properly?”
A wicked, giddy grin splits Atalanta’s face. “Of course! Easy-peasy,” she crows, stepping over the fallen log to examine the straps on Temesia’s back. “You’ve got the gauntlets off, so it’s pauldrons next, then chest plate. Right?”
“Yes.” Temesia dips her head, listening to Atalanta sweep her hair over her shoulder and begin to undo one of the buckles on her heavy right pauldron. Her nails scrape softly against the metal, knocking against it so Temesia can almost feel the movement on her back. She can picture Atalanta now, tongue caught between her teeth as she furrows her brow at a puzzle she’s struggling to solve. She has no patience for simple riddles, but she puts her irritation aside for this.
Temesia feels the weight on her shoulder shift as the last buckle is undone, and the pauldron slips off, tumbling towards the floor. She jolts and scrambles to catch it; but Atalanta is quicker. She saves the pauldron from colliding with the ground, with a small “oof” as the weight of catching it almost makes her stumble.
“Whew!” She laughs, “I forgot how heavy these things are.”
“Be careful,” Temesia sighs, trying to calm her panicked heart. “Maintaining one’s armor is very important.”
“I know, I know,” Atalanta sighs, gently setting the pauldron next to the gauntlets on the soft grass. “I promise I won’t let the next one fall.”
Temesia nods, and returns to her position. She listens to Atalanta shift to her left, and begin the careful process once more. True to her word, the fur-covered pauldron is carefully caught and lifted off her shoulder before it has time to fall.
Atalanta places the pauldron next to its pair, and slips her fingers into the armholes of the chest plate to get a better grip. The sudden feeling of Atalanta’s fingers pressing into her skin makes Temesia stall, her brain taking a few seconds to catch up and tear itself away from the contact.
”Help me out here, yeah?” She huffs, and Temesia quickly shifts her arms up and in to make the doffing easier. Atalanta grunts as she heaves the breastplate off, and Temesia is quick to grab the bottom and help her lower it to the ground.
”Thanks,” Atalanta laughs, a little breathless. “Wow, you’re even stronger than before! I didn’t know it was possible.”
Temesia clears her throat, shying away from Atalanta’s blazing smile. Somehow, the slightest glint of teeth makes a dozen emotions rise in her chest. She’s quick to tamper them all.
She expects Atalanta to step back now, to return to her seat on the other side of the fire, but Atalanta shocks her; she steps back to face Temesia, and then kneels down to begin undoing her greaves.
Temesia feels the heat rush to her face immediately. Suddenly, she’s reminded of how intimate this is. Atalanta is close to her, too close, her fingers brushing against Temesia’s leg, and the night is quiet enough that she can hear her breathing slow as she concentrates. She opens her mouth to sputter out some sort of protest, but Atalanta beats her to it, making the words die in her throat.
“Do you remember the first time you let me do this?”
Temesia slowly closes her mouth as her mind is sent back, back, to what was almost ten years ago, now. Back when she had just been promoted as a knight, back when she and Atalanta were joined at the hip.
“It was my first serious mission.”
Atalanta grins. “Supposed to just guard a caravan, but you got ambushed by bandits on the way back. Your group fought them off and made it back, but you were exhausted.”
Temesia sighs. The pain is a distant memory now, but she remembers how the soreness echoed through every muscle. “I wasn’t ready for how draining it would be. I was walking all day, and I’d never been in a real fight before.”
Atalanta smiles wryly. “But you still held it together in front of all your superiors. They never guessed how tired you really were. Otherwise, they would have sent you straight to the medicine wing.”
“I wasn’t injured,” Temesia protests.
“You almost collapsed,” Atalanta chides. “When you finally let yourself relax, you could barely move your arms enough to undo your armor. So you used what little energy you had left to talk me through it, and to make sure I stored each piece properly.”
“I felt so bad,” Temesia sighs, fighting back the smile that threatens her lips, “you had been so excited for me to get back, and then I immediately fell asleep.”
“Oh, hush. I was worried about you. I was just happy to have you next to me again, safe and sound.”
The memory of that night brings up another one- of waking up the next morning, pale sunbeams filtering through the window. Atalanta had fallen asleep tucked into the crook of Temesia’s neck. She remembers being the first to wake, watching Atalanta’s face in the pale yellow light, timidly tracing her freckles, an indescribable feeling rising in her chest.
Temesia feels her left greave loosen off her leg, but the last thing Atalanta said has caught and torn her attention away from her armor. I was just happy to have you next to me again.
For five years, she had scorned Atalanta’s name. Taunted by her memories, by her guilt, she shooed every gentle and kind thought away because it was blasphemy. Thinking of Atalanta as a traitor. A liar. Telling herself that Atalanta never truly cared for her, that it was all just a ruse- that ten years of friendship had been expertly crafted so that Temesia would turn her back as Atalanta snuck resources out of the church, and that it had worked. She poisoned her own memories, taught herself to hate Atalanta for her betrayal (though she never could), to hate herself for her failure (which was all too easy); Temesia spent years trying to desperately amend the sin of briefly loving someone else more than she loved her faith. And Atalanta?
Atalanta never did anything but love Temesia.
She stole away in the temple that had falsely imprisoned her for stealing bread, spent her days and nights there to keep Temesia company. She patiently waited for her to train, helped her study history and languages, snuck extra treats out of the kitchens for them to share. She took the Faith Stone, yes, but only in a desperate attempt to save Temesia’s life. Only out of pure, true, genuine love. Atalanta knew she would be blamed. She knew that Temesia would blame her. And still, she did it, and then told no one the truth. All to protect Temesia.
Who has spent the last few years of her life tearing apart her memories of their friendship, all while Atalanta waited patiently, ever on the outskirts of her guilt, doing nothing to Temesia but loving her.
“Tem?”
Temesia almost jumps as Atalanta gently taps her in the middle of her forehead. She scrunches her face at her, using her finger to try and smooth out Temesia’s brow.
“Hah, I think I lost you there! You alright?”
Temesia’s brain reels as she tries to amend the storm in her mind with Atalanta’s cheeriness. She blinks a few times, trying to sort her thoughts out.
“…Atalanta…”
Atalanta’s face drops. “Oh no, I know that tone. You’re about to say something serious, aren’t you.” She sits back on her heels and sighs. “That’s okay. Lay it on me!”
“… I’m so sorry.”
She wants to say more, but the words catch in her throat, forming a lump that threatens to crack her open. So she closes her mouth, watching the shock register on Atalanta’s face, then morph into concern.
”Hey, Tem, don’t worry about it, okay?”
“But I hurt you,” she whispers, voice hoarse. “I should have trusted you. Believed what you said. I should have stood in your corner, but I… I didn’t. I hated you, Ata. I hated you.”
“It’s okay.” Atalanta mutters, leaning forward. “Hey. Look at me. It’s okay. I’ll forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t”
“That doesn’t matter, because I will.”
“Why?”
Atalanta smiles, gently cupping Temesia’s cheek. “Because you’re a good person. Because you deserve it. And because I’m your friend.”
“But-“ Temesia stammers, “I tried to get you thrown in jail. I turned everyone against you. You saved my life, and I-“
“Stop this, Temesia,” Atalanta chides, her stern tone halting Temesia’s monologue. “No more of this self-pity. You’re worth more than that. You’ve been wallowing in this guilt for so long. And I’m telling you right now, you need to get out of it.” She gives Temesia a lopsided smile, all kindness and green eyes and strawberry hair. “I want you out of it. I want to be friends again, and I want to trust you again. And I know that I’ll be able to, eventually- as long as you work for it. And I know you, Temesia; I know you’ll work for it.”
Temesia swallows thickly. “But you don’t trust me yet. What… what do I need to do? Tell me. I want… what do I do?”
Atalanta sighs. “I wish I had a simple answer for that.” She bites at her lip, eyes wandering as she thinks. “It… it didn’t hurt me that you thought I stole the Faith Stone, because in the end, I did. All the evidence pointed towards me, it was only natural that you’d think that. I just… I wish you’d believed me when I said it was for them best. Maybe it was unfair to ask that of you- to have blind faith in me, when I wouldn’t even tell you what happened.” She finally meets Temesia’s gaze, eyes soft and sad. “But I thought you would trust me. I wanted you to trust me. And you didn’t.”
Temesia exhales shakily. “Atalanta, I… I’m so sorry.”
Atalanta chuckles. “In retrospect, perhaps it was cruel. To ask you to choose to believe me over your livelihood, over religion. But I thought that I was important to you. That I was just as important.”
”You were,” Temesia chokes, “you are. I just didn’t know it.”
Atalanta’s brow furrows as she searches Temesia’s face, scanning her features for something immaterial. Temesia wills her heart to calm, and prays that she finds it.
Atalanta’s face settles, and something in it urges Temesia to continue. So she does.
“For so long- for all our childhood, really, I thought I couldn’t have both. Have you, and have Dura in my life. I thought I was just staving away the inevitable, squeezing all I could out of our friendship, and out of the Temple, before I had to choose. So when, when you stole the Faith Stone… I was devastated, but I had… expected it. It felt only natural. I had spent all my life anticipating the choice, and I forced my own hand- I created the stakes in my mind, and I enacted them. A self-fulfilling prophecy. And it was… it was easier to choose the temple.” She winces at her own words, shoulders slumping. “I was wrong. I know that now. I- I want to have both. And, if you’re okay with it, I think I can.”
Atalanta gives her a small, sad smile. “… That makes sense. You always seemed like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, for our entire childhood. And everything just… imploded, when I stole the Faith Stone.”
“It’s not an excuse, though.”
“It’s not. But it’s an explanation, and I’m happy that I finally got one. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I made you make that choice. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess, deep down, I didn’t have faith in you either. I didn’t trust you not to hurt yourself.”
“I don't know that you even should have trusted me on that.” Temesia sighs. “But I appreciate it, Ata. Thank you.”
“There’s still something I don’t understand,” Atalanta mutters, tapping her fingers against one of Temesia’s greaves, “why didn’t you think you could have me as well as the temple? I don’t see why the Temple would be against having friends.”
Temesia takes a shaky breath in, and slowly closes her eyes. She knows what she’s about to say. She’s known it for so long. The words will come, and she won’t stop them. She couldn’t even if she wanted to.
“Because I’m in love with you.”
In saying it, she feels the weight of its truth. I’m in love with you. And she always has been, hasn’t she? Ever since she traced Atalanta’s freckles under the moonlight. Perhaps even before that. She’s known it all along, no matter how hard she tried to shove it down. When she says it out loud, finally, she feels something unclench in her chest.
“Really?” Atalanta’s eyes are blown wide, but any emotion besides shock is unreadable. Temesia hesitates on the words, considering trying to take them back, to cram everything into her throat and lungs and snatch it out of the air. But it’s no use, Atalanta would see through any lie.
”Yes,” she whispers, with all the weight in the world. “I’m sorry.”
She isn't sure why she’s apologizing now. The words hang in the air for a few seconds. Temesia searches Atalanta’s face for any twitch, any flicker of emotion.
Atalanta blinks, then grins so wide it could split her face open.
“You asshole,” she crows, lightly shoving Temesia’s chest, “I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve!”
“I- you- what?” Temesia stammers, but Atalanta is already cackling with laughter. Thank Dura Lucius sleeps like a log.
“I can’t believe it! I’ve pined over you for so long, and you, the stubbornest knight, you confessed first! I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Atalanta’s joy proves infectious; a bemused smile finally breaks through Temesia’s defences.
”So you… wait… Ata, all this time?”
“Oh, don’t think about it too hard,” Atalanta giggles, “you’ll drive yourself mad, and you’ve done enough of that already. All that matters is that I’m here, we’re here, and you love me.”
“I do,” Temesia whispers. Atalanta is still gently holding her face, and Temesia can’t help it; her gaze falls to her lips. Atalanta’s grin settles into something more relaxed, almost sly. Her lips part.
“If we kiss tonight,” she whispers, “I’d be okay with that. But we can’t do it again. Not until we’re both okay.”
Temesia nods shakily, then, ever so slowly, she closes the distance.
The kiss is careful, tentative. Temesia has never done this before; Atalanta most certainly has. She lets Temesia take the lead, which she is grateful for. Atalanta’s thumb brushes her cheekbone. Temesia brings her hand up to tangle through her long, golden hair.
Each moment feels like it lasts an eternity, yet goes by too quickly all the same. Atalanta’s lips are softer than Temesia would have expected; the act of kissing is gentler than she thought. It felt right, as if the two of them were meant to fit together perfectly.
Atalanta brushes her thumb against the corner of Temesia's lip as the kiss comes to its natural conclusion. She pulls away, but keeps their foreheads pressed together.
“I can’t believe it,” she whispers. Somehow, her smile has grown even brighter. “If only my teenage self could see me now!”
“Why didn't you say anything?” Temesia mutters, brow furrowing.
”I was happy with what we had.” Atalanta pulls back a little, setting her elbow on Temesia’s thigh. “And you would’ve run away from me if I did.”
“I…” it’s true, as much as Temesia doesn’t want to admit it. Anything that would take her away from her training, from Dura, would have sent her running. She was curled into herself throughout her entire youth, shying away from anything that threatened to change.
Atalanta shifts to rest her head on Temesia’s leg now, gazing up at her with bright green eyes and a small smile on her face. Temesia fights back the urge to apologize once more. Atalanta doesn't need it, nor want it. She just wants to be.
And maybe, Temesia wants that too.
“Alright, enough sappy shit,” Atalanta sighs, “we need to get to bed. You wake up at the asscrack of dawn, and I’m certain Lucius does too, so I need my beauty rest before then.”
Temesia laughs. ”You and your beauty rest. I remember when one of the Templar Knights woke me up early for training on a morning when you’d stayed the night in the temple. You were so disgruntled that you spent the entire day going through Holy Books, just so that in the evening you could prove to him that Dura never said sleeping in was bad.”
Temesia trails off as she notices Atalanta’s expression. She’s gazing up at her, eyes wide, almost awestruck, as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing. Temesia clears her throat self-consciously.
“Ata, what are you-“
”You laughed,” Atalanta whispers. “I heard it! You laughed! I made you laugh! Well, my childhood antics made you laugh, but still!” Atalanta jumps up and grabs Temesia’s face and begins peppering kisses onto her cheeks.
Temesia blinks in confusion for a second, but then Atalanta kisses the tip of her nose and the sweet absurdity of it all finally hits her. Temesia starts giggling- actually giggling- as Atalanta ambushes her, wrapping her hands around Atalanta’s waist and pulling her onto her lap. Ata pauses her bombardement to gaze properly at Temesia’s face, finally pulled into a smile, her hands still tenderly cupping Temesia’s jaw.
Eventually, Temesia recovers from the fit of laughter, sighing contently as she meets Atalanta’s gaze. She tilts her head slightly to press a soft kiss to Atalanta’s thumb.
“We’ve been fools, haven't we?”
“You could say that,” Atalanta smiles, before leaning in to press her lips to Temesia’s once more. Somehow, the second kiss is even sweeter than the first.
Atalanta slips off of Temesia’s lap after what was probably too long, and walks towards their packs to fish their bedrolls out. Temesia slips the rest of her armor off, and gathers it to place neatly next to Lucius’. She’d nearly forgotten he was there; and sends a silent thank you to Dura that he didn’t wake up at all in the past half hour or so. She has no idea how she’s going to explain any of this to him.
Atalanta has set their bedrolls up right next to each other, with Temesia’s closest to the fire. ”You always ran cold at night, and stole all the bedsheets when we’d have sleepovers,” she explains with a snicker, “and I don’t want you stealing my sleeping bag.”
Temesia chuckles softly as she settles down. Now that she’s started laughing, it doesn't seem like she can stop.
They lie down gazing up at the glittering stars above them. Almost immediately, Atalanta tucks her head into the crook of Temesia’s neck, like she always did when they were kids. Temesia feels the soft tickle of her hair against her skin.
Everything’s changed, but nothing has. Atalanta finds Temesia’s hand and begins to lazily trace patterns on her palm. Temesia hums a few notes of the church hymn she’s gotten stuck in her head. They’ve done this a hundred times before.
There’s a dull ache in Temesia’s chest- she hasn’t allowed herself to miss this, no matter how badly she truly did. Her room felt so empty without Atalanta, even though she tried to ignore it. Even though she tried to fill every gap with desperate piety. Somehow, the space where Atalanta had been always stayed empty. But now, she’s here. They’re both here. Why did she ever force herself to choose between Atalanta and Dura? She loves them both. And tonight, under the yawning night sky, it finally feels like enough.
“I love you,” Temesia breathes into the air.
Atalanta presses a kiss into Temesia’s neck. Temesia can feel her smile.
“I love you too.” Atalanta takes a deep exhale, her warm breath dancing across Temesia’s skin. “But we can’t do this yet. You know that, right?”
All the wind leaves Temesia’s lungs, but she wills herself to be steady. She didn’t want to remember that, but she needs to. “Right,” she rasps, “you need to forgive me. To trust me.”
“And you need to forgive yourself.”
Temesia squeezes Atalanta’s hand. “We can be friends, though… right?”
“Yeah,” Atalanta grins. “Friends. We can do that. There will be room for something else, eventually. I have faith.”
“I… I do too.”
“Tonight was my promise.” Atalanta pushes herself up on her elbow, and sticks her pinky finger out to Temesia. “I’ll wait for you, if you wait for me. We can have this, I know we can. I don't know how long it will take, but I’ll sit here with you until we figure it out.”
Temesia blinks up at her, then slowly links her own pinky finger with Atalanta’s too. She swallows back tears. “I’ll wait too. We’ll make it work.”
Ata grins. “Do you think Merlin would be our relationship counselor if we asked nicely?”
Temesia chuckles, resting her hands against her chest once more. “They probably would. I think they’re rooting for us.” She smiles up at Atalanta, her face dimly illuminated in the flickering firelight.
“I can’t wait until I get to kiss you again,” she whispers. Atalanta beams.
“I can’t wait either.”