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Everything is red, and then everything hurts, and then everything stops.
She can’t feel her mother anymore.
She can’t feel anything—not the storm, not her body, not any solid surface below—except for a frantic burning where her lungs should be.
Im—gen?
Faint, distorted, far away, like she’s still stuck in the storm but none of her senses can prove it.
Did—one see—happened?
Burning, burning, burning—
Imogen—hear—?
Burning, burning, burning—
Slow—breath—need—
And then cold somewhere in the middle of the heat, a physical touch that sends a sudden pulse of recognition through her system—
Her body—
Her body—
Crashing back into awareness like a mirror shattered, all jagged shapes and jumbled images and—
(It hurts.)
A noise that doesn’t make sense—
Imogen—
The cold is still there, firm and urgent and—
Sweetheart—
Laudna—?
(He knows.)
That noise again, and this time she feels it scraping against her throat, and then she realizes—
She’s hyperventilating.
Lungs and limbs and skin and aching head, like her skull could shatter at any moment from the sheer pressure of—
(It hurts—
He knows—
the funnel—)
A violent sob takes her remaining breath away, the cold frames her face and Imogen’s mind reaches out automatically, desperately—
LAUDNA—
That musical presence wraps around all of her raw panic like a wordless embrace—
Imogen tears herself open and sends an avalanche of frenzied memories spilling across their connection, what she saw and the way her mama’s voice shook and that explosion of pain—
—mother—Ludinus—funnel—
(the funnel the funnel the funnel the fucking funnel—
It hurts—
It hurts—
It hurts—)
Her mind stays with Laudna but her body is suddenly enveloped in warmth, tight and everywhere and swallowing her up—
It’s Fearne, darling. Fearne is holding you. She has you.
(he has her—
he has her—
he has her—
he has her—)
I know, I know, I hear you, I promise.
(what do I do—
what do I do—
what do I do—
what do I do—)
Slow down, Imogen.
(what do I do—)
You need to slow down.
(what do I do—)
Can you slow down for me?
(he has her—
It hurts—
he has her—
It hurts—)
Shhhhhhhh. I know you’re scared, but you need to breathe.
(wants to—
trying—
needs—)
Can’t speak, can’t think, she needs she needs she needs—
(hands—
tight—
tether—
hold—)
Not actual words, just vague and frantic feelings hurled toward Laudna like buckets of water to put out a fire—
(hands—
tight—
tether—
hold—)
And then she feels it, feels them, a firm pressure on each side, real and unignorable and safe—
I’ve got one of your hands and Ashton has the other.
(tether hold tether hold tether hold—)
Can you feel us, Imogen? Can you feel me and Ashton?
She does, she does, she does, awareness slowly expanding like a lantern being turned up to reveal touch instead of sight, hands and arms and chest and then lower—
Laudna—
Another energy roiling deep in the pit of her stomach—
Laudna—
Big and blunt and red-hot and horrifyingly familiar—
Laudna—
(Is she your favorite?)
LAUDNA—
Building, building, wanting—
Don’t let me—
It wants to consume it wants to unleash it wants to destroy—
(Is she your favorite?)
Don’t let me explode—
She’s lost the hands, lost Fearne and Ashton and Laudna, all she knows is—
Building and building and building and—
Don’t let me explode don’t let me explode please don’t let me explode—
Building and—
Focus on me, Imogen. Come back to me. I’m here and I’ve got you.
Where is Laudna where is Laudna where did she go—
I’m right here. Focus on me. Come back to me.
She needs to find Laudna she needs to find Laudna she needs—
Please don’t let me please don’t let me—
Imogen’s mind floods with memories again, but this time they come from Laudna—
(“I deeply love Imogen—”
“Two snakes and a ruby—”
Waking up in Imogen’s arms in Whitestone—
“You always have me—”
Running to each other in the tavern—
“Can I kiss you—?”
“I will never let you go—”
Imogen’s arms layering over her own as they faced down Delilah—
“Promise me—”)
I love you. I’ve got you. Come back to me.
Back to Laudna—
Back to Laudna—
Always back to Laudna—
It feels like a physical fall, like her body is a net catching her mind just before crashes to the floor, mouth and throat and lungs and chest and—
Fearne’s hold on Imogen is all that keeps her in place as Imogen’s limbs jolt with all the rejected energy, which just as soon vanishes, and she’s left to slump into the warm fur and breathe and breathe and breathe and breathe.
“Imogen,” she hears out loud this time, a musical whisper very close to her ear, but everything is still fuzzy and electric and she can’t make her voice work.
I’m here. I hear you.
Two marble hands begin to gently massage her wrist, then her palm, then her fingers, and the arms around her adjust so Fearne can cradle Imogen’s head.
Tell them I’m… I just need…
“Shhhhhhh,” Laudna murmurs as cool knuckles caress Imogen’s cheek. “They know.”
“You better be taking your fucking time in there,” Ashton warns as he switches to her other hand, massaging the same path with even, delicate pressure.
Imogen pulls away from Laudna’s mind and wanders into Ashton’s. That feels nice.
They chuckle quietly. “I always liked when Milo did it, especially on the bad days.”
“You’re doing so good,” Fearne soothes and leans down to kiss her cheek. “We love you so much.”
Did everyone see?
Imogen can sense the exchange of glances and swallows back a wave of embarrassment and dread, then puts every ounce of focus that she can into forcing her eyes open. Her vision swims and doubles as she readjusts to the light, blinks away the tears she didn’t notice until now, and eventually pushes herself upright with trembling elbows before taking a moment to listen to her own shuddering exhales.
And then it all sinks in, and Imogen shakes her head.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” she manages, “I shouldn’t have done that.” She squeezes all ten fingers into fists and then slowly, shakily unfurls them again. “Of course he’s got her,” Imogen mutters thickly, “she’s been riskin’ everything, stayin’ with him. It was just—” She barely contains a broken sob and swallows hard. “Just a matter of time.” Wipes her nose with an unsteady hand, scratches absentmindedly at her chest that’s still too tight. “I’m alright. Won’t happen again.”
She doesn’t dare look up at any of them, even as the silence stretches on.
“For the record,” Ashton says finally, words gentle but matter-of-fact, “you’re only good at lying to people who don’t know you.”
Imogen manages the smallest laugh under her breath as she shrugs. “Won’t stop me from tryin’ every once in a while.”
“Don’t ever be sorry,” Dorian tells her after a beat, abrupt and soft from where he stands beside Orym. “Not for loving your family, and certainly not for grieving them.”
She nods just a little and licks the salt from her lips. “I don’t even know for sure that she’s gone,” Imogen admits, “but it’s… it’s hard to imagine any way she could…”
Laudna’s soothing mind swirls around her own until the rest of her thought is lost to the quietest, calmest, safest music she’s ever heard. Imogen’s eyes droop closed again and she lets her head fall to Laudna’s shoulder, and Fearne starts to rub her back, and a tiny halfling hand wraps securely around her thumb.
“If she’s saveable,” Orym declares, “we will save her.”
And then, Laudna whispers in Imogen’s mind, we’ll make sure our cottage has a guest room.
She’s too drained to move any more, so she pictures herself tilting up to kiss Laudna’s cheek, then thinks about that cold pressure surrounding her hand, then thinks about the way her arms strained trying to keep her mother close—
I’ve never been able to stop her from leavin’ on my own, Imogen mumbles, but maybe we could both be my mama’s tether, someday.
Laudna kisses the top of her head. I would be honored, Imogen.
She breathes the promises into her lungs, holds them until they burn, and then carefully lets them go.