[ Once upon a time, in Netvor, there was a castle inhabited by a cursed prince. Or nobleman. (Hermione forgets.) The castle grounds will open to them, promising sanctuary in exchange for keeping a few chatty dishes company, attending a few balls. Nevermind that shadows stalk and creep and try to chase anyone not constantly looking over their shoulders at night.
This time around, she is late returning from the library, but not quite so late as to fear for her life. Beyond the castle's windows, the sun is setting. The castle itself seems rather devoid of people, so Hermione feels slightly more at ease when it comes to climbing up the stairs. With the roses blossoming, there's no saying the sorts of emotions she will feel should she encounter someone, as she doesn't feel by half-measure. She doesn't do anything by half-measure.
All seems fine, at least until she hears footsteps behind her. She stops mid-step, and whirls around, wand at the ready. Only instead of a shadow, it's a familiar face that greets her - albeit a bemused (and unfairly beautiful) one. ] Ah! Wen Qing - I thought you were one of the...other inhabitants.
[ There are many places in the castle that call to Wen Qing throughout the day, and she seeks them out as time allows, between her time in the library and the kitchens. It's not a terrible place to find herself, with her companions, and the rest is appreciated. For all of the oppression she feels in the castle, it is much more lively and joyful than the castle she grew up in, under the increasingly heavy thumb of her maddened uncle.
At sunset, when the roses bloom, she finds herself heading to the staircase. She spots the figure on the stairs, but doesn't realize who it is until she reaches the bottom and can see Hermione's familiar curls. The clothing they've been required to don here in the castle are much more cumbersome and fancy than anything Wen Qing is used to, and they often keep her from recognizing people, but Hermione is too familiar to her to be forgotten or mistaken. She picks up her own skirts and joins her friend. ]
Some of the inhabitants do like to sneak up on us. [ She glances over her shoulder. ] But you're in luck. It's just me tonight.
[ It hits light a bombarda right in the ribs: the roses bloom, the moonlight cuts through the windows and dress Wen Qing in silver, and Hermione is left aflutter. Only instead of her usual tongue-tied self around the woman, tonight her courage (or is it a curse? a blessing?) drives her tongue to say: ]
You say 'just you' as if that's not the best possible company. [ Her hold on the railing tightens for a moment, before she descends and meets Wen Qing halfway up the staircase - for protection, obviously. She's going to protecc. ]
I do count myself lucky, you know? To have met you at all has been a revelation in many ways.
[ Wen Qing is rarely given to expressing affection or being touchy with others, even the closest of her friends. But some of the reserve she normally feels falls off her shoulders, and when Hermione joins her, she tucks an arm though her friend's so they are standing together, as close as the cumbersome dresses allow. ]
All good revelations, I hope. [ She smiles at Hermione, rising affection in her chest. The entire journey they've been on has been one of horror and fear, but it's brought Hermione into her life, and for that she can't harbor any regrets. ] We are both lucky. Luckier than anything I had ever experienced or expected.
[ She has remained rather stubbornly in favour of wearing men's trousers, which is a boon considering that there were plenty in the closet of the room she was given. It's also a boon, because the proximity becomes all that easier without two ballgowns in the way.
It is not yet time for that ball, anyway. Hermione dressed herself practically for the day, and that day turned into evening with her still out and about.
Now look at them again, Wen Qing's arm looped with hers, one of Hermione's hands coming to rest atop the woman's. As if she's a bold thing. ]
Only good revelations - I did not expect... [ If this blows up in her face, she'll curse the roses later. But right now, it feels imperative to say it. ]
I can't stop thinking about how I wish my only kiss with a woman hadn't been with Miang-Si. [ She keeps going, whilst going red. ] But with you. [ Utterly and completely blushing. Lips pressed together in consternation, over these confessions just... happening. ] And also not the only one ever oh my gods it's like I can't stop talking!
[ uneasy laughter. Hand pats and all. ] I'm very sorry about all that.
[ When Hermione first starts talking, Wen Qing looks away, focused on the wall of roses, the gentle cascade of petals through the air as the sunset gilds them in light. It's a beautiful picture, almost too perfect for idle conversation, and then Hermione continues, and it is no longer idle chatter but something meaningful and deep.
She looks at the other woman, her messy curls and the practical clothing and the beautiful, beloved face, which stirs emotions in her heart that Wen Qing never expected and isn't sure what to do with, even now. ]
I wanted to kiss you. Back in the house we guarded, in Ke-Waihu. Before the serpant surprised us. [ It had been the first time she'd acknowledged that. ] You were so easy to talk to and funny, and I had never let myself feel anything like that before.
[ She swallows sharply, the vulnerability of such conversation drying her throat out. There will be tea, later. Maybe good wine. ] So you are not the only one who wished for such a thing.
[ She raises her free hand to cup Hermione's cheek, firm and gentle, the skilled fingers of a surgeon, and looks at Hermione, a question unvoiced in her eyes, lingering on her tongue. It's so forward to ask, but between Hermione's confession and the way the words feel pulled out of her, as though by magic, she asks: ] Can I kiss you now?
[ That's one way to quickly kill an incontrollable burst of laughter, those five words: I wanted to kiss you. Hermione's breath catches, the giggle dies off in her throat, and she is left standing halfway up the staircase, frozen in place.
It seems surreal that Wen Qing is truly saying those things. It does not feel surreal that those words, from Wen Qing, send a flutter in her stomach and behind her ribcage. She's not a stranger to crushes, not a stranger to wanting someone physically. Even when Miang-Si planted her lips on Hermione, she'd initially thought the young woman tragically pretty - and it had served as a launching pad to micro-analyse her feelings towards women in general.
It's why the List exists. Buried deep in her notes, there is a list of people (not just men, not just women) that Hermione has felt attracted to. Written in a semi-dazed state, trying to make sense of herself, trying to justify that there would be no need to explore those feelings further at all.
Who falls in love during a journey towards survival? Who falls in love with people they're likely to never see again?
Guess I do, she thinks, floating on the words that Wen Qing keeps saying. A smile flickers on Hermione's lips at you are not the only one who wished for such a thing, and then - the question.
She climbs one more step on the giant staircase, and without relinquishing her hold on Wen Qing's free hand, turns to face her. Because it feels right, she returns her hand back to her cheek, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist first, then looks the woman in the eyes.] Please do.
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eb - netvor's confessional wall, redux
This time around, she is late returning from the library, but not quite so late as to fear for her life. Beyond the castle's windows, the sun is setting. The castle itself seems rather devoid of people, so Hermione feels slightly more at ease when it comes to climbing up the stairs. With the roses blossoming, there's no saying the sorts of emotions she will feel should she encounter someone, as she doesn't feel by half-measure. She doesn't do anything by half-measure.
All seems fine, at least until she hears footsteps behind her. She stops mid-step, and whirls around, wand at the ready. Only instead of a shadow, it's a familiar face that greets her - albeit a bemused (and unfairly beautiful) one. ] Ah! Wen Qing - I thought you were one of the...other inhabitants.
no subject
At sunset, when the roses bloom, she finds herself heading to the staircase. She spots the figure on the stairs, but doesn't realize who it is until she reaches the bottom and can see Hermione's familiar curls. The clothing they've been required to don here in the castle are much more cumbersome and fancy than anything Wen Qing is used to, and they often keep her from recognizing people, but Hermione is too familiar to her to be forgotten or mistaken. She picks up her own skirts and joins her friend. ]
Some of the inhabitants do like to sneak up on us. [ She glances over her shoulder. ] But you're in luck. It's just me tonight.
no subject
You say 'just you' as if that's not the best possible company. [ Her hold on the railing tightens for a moment, before she descends and meets Wen Qing halfway up the staircase - for protection, obviously. She's going to protecc. ]
I do count myself lucky, you know? To have met you at all has been a revelation in many ways.
no subject
All good revelations, I hope. [ She smiles at Hermione, rising affection in her chest. The entire journey they've been on has been one of horror and fear, but it's brought Hermione into her life, and for that she can't harbor any regrets. ] We are both lucky. Luckier than anything I had ever experienced or expected.
no subject
It is not yet time for that ball, anyway. Hermione dressed herself practically for the day, and that day turned into evening with her still out and about.
Now look at them again, Wen Qing's arm looped with hers, one of Hermione's hands coming to rest atop the woman's. As if she's a bold thing. ]
Only good revelations - I did not expect... [ If this blows up in her face, she'll curse the roses later. But right now, it feels imperative to say it. ]
I can't stop thinking about how I wish my only kiss with a woman hadn't been with Miang-Si. [ She keeps going, whilst going red. ] But with you. [ Utterly and completely blushing. Lips pressed together in consternation, over these confessions just... happening. ] And also not the only one ever oh my gods it's like I can't stop talking!
[ uneasy laughter. Hand pats and all. ] I'm very sorry about all that.
no subject
She looks at the other woman, her messy curls and the practical clothing and the beautiful, beloved face, which stirs emotions in her heart that Wen Qing never expected and isn't sure what to do with, even now. ]
I wanted to kiss you. Back in the house we guarded, in Ke-Waihu. Before the serpant surprised us. [ It had been the first time she'd acknowledged that. ] You were so easy to talk to and funny, and I had never let myself feel anything like that before.
[ She swallows sharply, the vulnerability of such conversation drying her throat out. There will be tea, later. Maybe good wine. ] So you are not the only one who wished for such a thing.
[ She raises her free hand to cup Hermione's cheek, firm and gentle, the skilled fingers of a surgeon, and looks at Hermione, a question unvoiced in her eyes, lingering on her tongue. It's so forward to ask, but between Hermione's confession and the way the words feel pulled out of her, as though by magic, she asks: ] Can I kiss you now?
no subject
It seems surreal that Wen Qing is truly saying those things. It does not feel surreal that those words, from Wen Qing, send a flutter in her stomach and behind her ribcage. She's not a stranger to crushes, not a stranger to wanting someone physically. Even when Miang-Si planted her lips on Hermione, she'd initially thought the young woman tragically pretty - and it had served as a launching pad to micro-analyse her feelings towards women in general.
It's why the List exists. Buried deep in her notes, there is a list of people (not just men, not just women) that Hermione has felt attracted to. Written in a semi-dazed state, trying to make sense of herself, trying to justify that there would be no need to explore those feelings further at all.
Who falls in love during a journey towards survival? Who falls in love with people they're likely to never see again?
Guess I do, she thinks, floating on the words that Wen Qing keeps saying. A smile flickers on Hermione's lips at you are not the only one who wished for such a thing, and then - the question.
She climbs one more step on the giant staircase, and without relinquishing her hold on Wen Qing's free hand, turns to face her. Because it feels right, she returns her hand back to her cheek, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist first, then looks the woman in the eyes.] Please do.