Better Halves

Imogen wasn't surprised that first night, when, laying there in that freezing cold cave with the Apogee Solstice unfolding around them and two new semi-strangers watching over them, she was unable to find sleep.

The exchanges with her mother, that flash of guilt she saw in her eyes, and the evil glint in Ludinus's flashed through her mind as she stared blankly at the cave ceiling, Deanna's blanket barely protecting her from frostbite. Desperate for something to occupy her time, she found herself once again fidgeting with the Taste of Tal'Dorei pencil that Laudna had given her, what felt like decades ago.

It seemed so silly, treasuring something so trivial, but as Imogen watched her hands absentmindedly twirl the pencil around and around, all she could think about was where Laudna was right now, whether or not she was safe, and what the Solstice could have done to her. She knew she should be more worried about her mother, or herself, or even her father, but her thoughts were entirely occupied by her undead companion.

The fact that her messages were met with such strong feedback scared the living hell out of her. For the two and a half years she'd known Laudna, even if there'd been miles and miles between them, she had always taken comfort in the knowledge that Laudna was never more than a thought away. The fact that she couldn't reach her reminded her of the worst week of her life, the one that had begun when Laudna was killed and ended when she was brought back.

"Are you okay, Miss Temult?"

Imogen was startled from her thoughts by a still-largely-unfamiliar voice, almost dropping her pencil. She glanced up to see the bronze features of FRIDA, looking back at her from the cave entrance.

"I apologize if I scared you," they said, raising a hand in a gesture of good will. "You just looked restless, and I was worried."

"It's alright, it's just been a long couple of days," Imogen replied sheepishly, still twirling her pencil. "Y'know, a big world-ending event, stuff with my mother, losing my best friend. It gets to you after a while."

"I understand," FRIDA responded, walking over and sitting next to her. "If you would like to talk about it, I'm a good listener."

"I don't really know if talking about it will change much, but I'll keep that in mind," Imogen agreed, giving a halfhearted nod before turning over in her sleeping bag.

It was barely twenty minutes before the pencil was once again twirling through her fingers, and her thoughts drifted to Laudna once more.

I hope she's safe.

I wonder if the way magic is being weird has messed with her.

I wonder where she is, if she's somewhere familiar to her or entirely new.

Wherever she is, I bet she's still the glue holding her group together.

"Imogen?"

Once again, Imogen found herself startled by FRIDA's voice from behind them. This time, she really did drop the pencil, and scrambled to pick it up, worried it was broken.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," FRIDA said, rushing over to help. "Can I see?"

Imogen's hands shook slightly as she held up the two halves of the pencil. She was chastising herself for it, but she was holding back tears.

It's just a pencil, Temult. No reason to cry over it.

"It's okay, I got it," FRIDA reassured her, slowly wrapping their hand around the two halves. Imogen watched, a wave of relief washing over her, as the two pieces stitched themselves back together.

"Thank you," she said, her voice a little shaky.

"No need to thank me," FRIDA insisted. "I was the reason you dropped it, after all."

Imogen gingerly cradled the pencil almost as if it were a baby, not caring in the least about the weird look she knew she was getting from the Aeormaton.

"Are you alright?" FRIDA asked carefully. "You look a little shaken."

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I just... this pencil was a gift from a very dear friend, someone who may very well be dead now, and I'm terrified I'll never see her again, so, y'know."

"I understand," FRIDA said, softly placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. "As I said, I'm here if you need me."

Imogen was silent for a long moment, long enough that FRIDA apparently took it to mean that she was done talking. They turned to walk back to the cave entrance, but Imogen reached up to place a hand on their shoulder, stopping them.

"Wait..."

FRIDA immediately stopped and looked back. After observing the look on Imogen's face, their expression softened and they sat down across from her.

"Anything you need," they said with a smile.

Imogen was once again silent for a minute, fiddling with the pencil as she struggled with how to put her feelings into words. FRIDA apparently took notice of her struggle and placed a cold, metallic hand over hers. The feeling reminded her of the soothing feeling of cold that Laudna radiated, and she blinked back tears.

"Why don't you start by telling me about this friend of yours?" they said.

Imogen nodded, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Her name's Laudna, and the two of us were friends for two years before we met the rest of the Hells. She's a caster, like me, and I don't know if you've heard of it, but she came from Whitestone."

"I've heard the name but I don't believe I know much about it." FRIDA replied.

"About thirty years ago, it was taken over by a necromancer bitch and her husband," Imogen explained. "Delilah and Sylas Briarwood. They were killed, but a lot of people died in the process, including Laudna."

"She died?"

"Yeah."

"Like Deanna."

It struck Imogen that it wasn't phrased as a question. She looked up at FRIDA to find an unexpected intensity in their eyes.

"Yeah. Like Deanna."

Imogen's gaze fell once again to the pencil in her hands, struggling to continue but desperately wanting to.

"She got brought back by some of Delilah's magic, but she wasn't really alive anymore, not in the traditional sense anyway. It's kind of weird, but sometimes, despite that, she seems like the most alive person I've ever met."

"And she gave you the pencil?"

Imogen nodded. "We got into a big fight over something really stupid, and she gave me this and a pot holder to make up for it. I gave the pot holder away and I've been regretting it since, so I'm trying to be more careful with this."

Imogen opened her hand, lifting the pencil into the air with her telekinesis. She spun it in a circle like a compass, and for a moment, a faint little voice at the back of her head hoped it would point her to Laudna, but it just kept spinning and spinning until she finally grabbed it from the air.

"And then, not too long afterwards, she died again," Imogen said, her voice wavering. "And it was my fault."

"I don't see how that could possibly be true," FRIDA assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It was, it was," Imogen insisted, shaking her head. "There was this woman, Otohan Thull. We fought her, but she was too powerful. She's an Exaltant, like me, and she was trying to get to me, so she saw how strongly I felt for Laudna and killed her to make a point."

"That sounds like it was this Thull woman's fault, not yours," FRIDA replied.

"No, I'm responsible too," Imogen told them. "Don't try to shift the blame, please, Laudna's already done enough of that, I don't need anyone else trying the same thing. I got complicit in hiding my feelings, and I wavered. It's my fault just as much as it's Thull's."

"Well then, I'll just very very insistantly state that I strongly disagree and leave it at that for the moment," FRIDA said. "How's that?"

Imogen couldn't help but smirk a little. "I can live with that."

She sighed before continuing. "Laudna was dead for about a week before we were able to bring her back with the help of some people from Whitestone, and for that entire week, I felt... incomplete. Losing her felt worse than when my powers first manifested. If we hadn't got her back... I don't think I would have ever recovered."

"Can I ask why not?" FRIDA asked gently.

Imogen swallowed a gulp of air, suddenly feeling as though she were out if breath. She carefully placed the pencil on the ground next to her, scared that her shaking hands would lose their grip on it.

Imogen hadn't told anyone her secret, and after Thull, she'd never planned to. But here and now, with Laudna either dead or a world away, she was struck with the overwhelming urge to finally, finally, just get it out in the open. She'd been hiding for too long, and now, this stranger whom it was unlikely she'd ever see again after the next few days, was offering to let her unload her baggage. It seemed too good to be true.

"You can certainly ask," she heard herself say.

FRIDA seemed taken aback by the hostility buried in Imogen's voice, withdrawing a foot or so. Imogen winced at their reaction.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean... it's just... I'm sorry. It's been a long few days."

FRIDA's body language softened at that, once again leaning a little towards Imogen to show support. "It's okay, I get it. It's a lot. I went through a lot after waking up."

Imogen nodded. "It's just... with how weird magic is being right now... Laudna is only alive because of magic. The woman who supplied that magic was killed. By me. For all I know, after the Solstice, Laudna could have just fucking collapsed, and there could be no way to bring her back."

"And you're scared because you have no way of knowing, which is unusual for you."

Imogen nodded, tears forming once again.

"You care a lot about her, don't you?"

You have no idea.

As usual, Imogen couldn't bring herself to say it. She'd been hiding her feelings for so long she almost didn't know how to express them properly.

"Yeah," she said, "I really do."

"So much that with a world-ending event happening around us, she's still at the forefront of your mind."

Imogen hesitated, then nodded, a tear falling down her cheek.

"Are you in love with her?"

The insightfulness of this stranger both terrified and impressed Imogen. She struggled to admit it, unable to speak the words out loud, but she managed a curt nod.

FRIDA seemed to absorb this new information for a moment before shifting over next to her and placing an arm around her shoulder. Imogen in turn buried her face in their coat and sobbed, desperate for any sort of comfort.

After a couple of minutes, Imogen finally withdrew, cleaning up as much as possible with her magic. FRIDA seemed to look at her with a new perspective, one she wasn't sure how to interpret.

"Is it okay if I ask how long?" they asked, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"In one way or another... since we first met," Imogen admitted, smiling through the tears. "She's always been different. Her thoughts were the first I'd ever come across that didn't hurt all the damn time, and learning about the horrors at Whitestone... it just showed how resilient a person she is, to have gone through something so incredibly horrific, and rather than letting it ruin her view of the world, she instead saw it as proof that life would only be uphill from there. She's just... she's beautiful, inside and out, in every godsdamned sense of the word."

"And she doesn't know?"

Imogen shook her head. "I was working up the courage to tell her, but then she died, and I realized that if she knew how I felt, I'd just be setting her up to be hurt again. I can't do that to her, not after all she's been through."

"Maybe if she knew, it would give her something worth fighting for in this strange new world we're discovering. Have you considered that?"

Imogen wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she simply wiped her eyes and looked over at the Aeormaton.

"I'm not going to try to talk you into telling her, I just wanted to put that out there, okay?" they offered. "And in the meantime... like I said, I'm here for support."

Imogen smiled and nodded. "Thank you, FRIDA."

FRIDA smiled and stood up, then pulled Imogen to her feet before wrapping her in a big hug.

"Now," they said, "let's get you back to your girl."