Side A – Nia
As proposals went, Nia’s was neither eloquent, nor set within a scene of romance and the grandeur of her love. She had no engagement token on hand to offer as surety of her words. She hadn’t even gently probed Margrada to get an inkling of whether she was interested in marriage at all, and more specifically with Nia in particular.
But it had been the right thing to say.
More than anything, as she spoke the words, Nia heard the truth of them resonate in her bones.
“Are you sleep talking?” Margrada asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I have never been more awake than I am at this exact moment,” Nia said. “Though, it does feel like a dream.”
“The drumming. Is the song still echoing within you?” Margrada asked, still searching Nia’s eyes for a sign of something.
“My hands are still numb,” Nia said. “You brought the song to a perfect conclusion, so no, I am not ensorcelled by the music. Well, I mean not metaphysically ensorcelled. I don’t have words to express what it meant to me. Or what you do.”
“We were sitting close together,” Margrada said. “Did our drumming overlap too much?”
The wariness in Margrada’s eyes didn’t hurt like it would have a year earlier if Nia had let herself see it in Marianne.
Of course, Margrada also wasn’t pulling away from Nia. That helped. A lot.
“I heard your beats through all of it, but all I learned through the song was that you should have been a part of the Shatter Band ten years ago.” Nia didn’t pull away, but she also held herself back from pursuing Margrada with the sort of excessive praise she would have heaped on Marianne.
With gentle breath in, she felt a calm flow through her and saw what had changed.
She wasn’t desperate.
She loved Margrada, but she didn’t need instant and overwhelming reassurance that her love was returned. Margrada was a part of her life, and whatever part Margrada chose for that to be would be wonderful.
“I was barely able to reach the drums ten years ago,” Margrada said, deflecting the compliment as someone who hadn’t been supported enough always would.
Nia wanted to kiss a mountain full of confidence into Margrada, but a gesture like that wasn’t going to last.
Real support meant being there, and being honest, both of which Nia was delighted to imagine doing for the rest of her life.
“But you were still playing them,” Nia said. “And they felt right, even then, didn’t they?”
“How do you know that?” Margrada asked, concern shading over the suspicion in her eyes.
“Not through the drumming,” Nia said. “I just know what it was like for me, and that was a lot more recent. How you play? There’s no way you could be that good if the drums hadn’t called to you and if you hadn’t felt like you fit perfectly with them. Which is how I feel about you. It’s why I’m asking you, Margrada Naswuf, to be my bride. To marry me and spend your life with me. Through the good and the bad, together and apart, as we grow and change, you are the one I want to fit with, now and until the roots claim our bones.”
Side B – Yasgrid
The last remnants of the dream had faded away and in their place wakefulness has returned.
“Wasn’t expecting you to wake so soon,” Kayelle said. “It seemed like you were having some fairly nice dreams if your expressions were anything to go by.”
“They were,” Yasgrid said, lifting herself from a bed, which was odd because she had a clear recollection of going to sleep in a bower in the woods. “What did I miss?”
“Surprisingly little,” Kayelle said. “You’ve only been out for a little over half a day.”
“That’s good,” Yasgrid said, glancing around the room she was in trying to place where she was until a thought struck her. “Weren’t you drowning?”
“Yes. I don’t recommend it. Much less pleasant to recover from that it seems, even with a bit of cheating.” Kayelle rose and poured out a mug of what Yasgrid at first assumed would be tea.
The M’Kellans had always served tea to her before.
It was not tea.
“Where did you get Frost Harbor Ice Ale from?” she asked, recognizing the flavor instantly.
“You’re mother,” Kayelle said. “Your Stoneling mother. I believe she and Naosha are still negotiating for custody of you and Nia.”
“Negotiating? They’re talking?” For some reason the prospect of Osdora and Naosha coming to blows filled Yasgrid with dread, but far worse was the possibility of them conspiring together.
“I gather we have them to thank for the frankly miraculous level of support we received,” Kayelle said.
“Where are they?” Yasgrid wasn’t planning to flee in the opposite direction, but it never hurt to keep one’s options open.
“Frost Harbor, I believe,” Kayelle said, sipping her own mug of Ice Ale.
“What? How did they get there so quickly?” Even with Nia whisking Naosha away to Gray Rift, there should have been days of travel for them to get back to Frost Harbor.
“We have some interesting new travel possibilities thanks to my sisters,” Kayelle said. “Apparently the Darkwood and your mountains liked what they saw in the link you two share and decided to come up with their own version of it.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning there are short cuts between the two all over the place,” Kayelle said. “They’re not one realm, anymore than you and Nia are the same person, but they are woven together in a manner that I don’t think would have been possible until we freed Endings and gave it a new purpose.”
The most salient aspect of that sprung into Yasgrid’s mind almost immediately.
“So, then, the elves Nia rescued and brought to Gray Rift?” Yasgrid asked, afraid to fully form her question.
“Are mostly still in Gray Rift, enjoying the celebration,” Kayelle said.
Yasgrid felt a wave of disappointment but fought to master herself. It was a far more minor setback than the ones she’d already overcome.
“With the exception of a certain Fate Dancer of your acquaintance,” Kayelle said with a wickedly teasing smile. “She’s currently asleep in the apartment just above this one.”
Yasgrid didn’t wait to hear anything else.
With a leap she was out the door, and flying up the stairs to where Kyra awaited her.