#if it wasn't clear Serella would die for Anemone and Hassan

[starswornoaths]

💏? (if that's alright)

@glyphenthusiast I sat on this for waaaaay to long but it’s pride month now and I’m bi af so have some Soft Sapphic Smooches~! Under the cut bc I was an indecisive bean and picked 3 of them, so it’s a little long. Thank you so much for being wonderful, considerate, patient you, my dear

(For disclosure’s sake, these have been pre-approved prior to posting! Enjoy~)

26. As an apology

The fight with the Behemoth had been hard won— and while it had been a worthwhile risk, one that she was glad to have taken in the first place, Serella would be lying if she said it was only her armor that came out of the encounter worse for wear. Her whole body ached down to her bones.

Yet though their hunting mark was only just fallen, its body still warm with the dying embers of life, the Paladin’s eyes scanned the field for her companion— and only once she saw the bright pink of Anemone’s head of hair did she allow herself to breathe.

Her sword, still slaked in grime and gore, was left where she had promptly stuck in the ground as she stumbled over herself to get to where Anemone was gathering herself, as well as her faithful companion Hassan.

“Are you both alright?” Serella asked, her breathing still heavy, her heart still hammering. “Any injuries?”

“None on Hassan— and for me, none that can’t wait,” Anemone responded in an effort to wave the fretful Paladin off. “We need proof it’s slain, right? Shouldn’t we—”

“It’s nothing that can’t wait,” Serella said back to her with a wry grin. She held out her hand. “Your wounds first— if not for your health, then for my propriety. Please? 

“Really, this is a minor thing.” Anemone answered with an exasperated smile even as she offered the shallow, singed graze on her arm. “It scarcely got through my armor. It will be fine.”

“I know it will,” the Paladin yessed her, hands lightly pushing away the tattered sleeve of her shirt. “You’re right,” she conceded, even as she let her healing magicks stir to life a the tips of her fingers. “It isn’t too bad— but I’d much rather we take care of this now, at least a little.”

It was a minor enough injury that Serella barely had to try to heal it before the skin had closed, lightly pink and somewhat tender, but closed and clean, her two highest priorities. Only once she was satisfied that it would no longer hinder her companion did she let her magic taper off. She nodded to herself, satisfied for the moment, even as she continued to inspect it.

“Thank you,” Anemone said with a smile.

“It was only right,” Serella answered, picking up Anemone’s discarded gauntlet. “I brought you out here— that wound was my responsibility.” Forgetting herself for a moment, she brought Anemone’s hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’m just sorry you had to endure it at all.”

The Paladin said nothing more as she helped smooth over the singed fabric of the top and handed her back the gauntlet.

“I don’t blame you for this, so please don’t blame yourself, either.” Anemone spoke up quietly. “But thank you for caring as you do.”

“I’m just relieved it isn’t worse.” Serella admitted, her cheeks growing warm as she realized she was still holding the poor woman’s hand, and letting it go.

As Serella became fully aware of how hotly the tips of her ears were burning, she promptly decided that she had said and done plenty for the day. With one of the beasts horns— and a tooth for good measure— removed for proof of the bounty, the trio made their way back to the Adventurer’s Guild for their hard earned reward.

50. Out of Love

“I had no idea you were a healer,” Anemone mused later that same day as they waited for dinner to finish cooking.

“Few do, I suppose.” Serella shrugged. She gave the ladle another turn around the pot to keep the stew at the bottom from burning. “It’s certainly not what people know me for.”

“That is true,” Anemone conceded with a smile. “Before I had ever met you, I’d only heard of you as a Paladin.”

“That’s what I am— I just also know a bit of healing here and there.” Serella tossed her a wink. “Just keep that between us, yeah? No need to have everyone with a sneeze coming to me for a cure.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Anemone promised with a smile.

“Speaking of healing, though— now that we’re safe, let me take a look at that hand of yours.” Serella held out her own upturned palm. “I want to make sure it’s healing properly.”

Anemone gave an exasperated shake of her head, even as she placed her hand stop the Paladin’s. This time, Serella’s touch was slower, softer, her magic more meticulous. It felt cool as running water as it splashed across the skin and scales of Anemone’s hand. Where Serella’s initial healing had just been to close the wound, this was a full mending of the flesh: by the time she had finished, there was hardly a trace that aught had happened at all.

“That feels much better,” Anemone said, though made no move to take her hand away. “Thank you.”

Serella’s sigh of relief struck Anemone as odd.  

“I’m glad it didn’t scar too badly,” the Paladin said quietly, and Anemone tilted her head when she saw Serella bite her lip.

“Why? What would it have mattered?” Anemone dismissed. Serella let go of her hand. “A scar is a scar. It would not have bothered me.”

“I’m glad for that, too— wouldn’t want anyone to look at you as lesser for it.” Serella did not meet Anemone’s gaze again. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Anemone paused, her hand still hovering in the space between them, even as Serella resumed checking the stew.

“Have you?” Anemone asked haltingly. Serella turned to look at her. “Been made to feel lesser for your scars?”

“…For a time.” The Paladin admitted, though Anemone was not convinced that it was so much ancient history as Serella pretended it to be. Serella untucked her hair from behind her ear to let it fall like a curtain to shield her facial scars from view and nervously smooth her hands over it, all but confirming Anemone’s suspicion. “Sooner or later, someone always comments on them. ‘A shame,’ said a friend once. ‘A waste,’ said a lover.” She shrugged a shoulder and returned to the bubbling pot over the fire. “Much like the scars they flinched at, it’s a well healed wound. I’m just sorry I put you at risk of being put through the same. I should have tried harder to protect you.”

She does not add that also much like those self same scars, though the wound had healed, the marks left behind sometimes ached if she did not have a care. No sense in pitying herself over the past, after all.

“There is no telling what we might have been able to do differently, had we the chance.” Anemone spoke up beside her.

She made a decision, then, and reached out to take Serella’s hand with her own. The Paladin looked up at her, surprised.

“Anemone…?” She asked softly.

“You are lovely no matter what anyone else says.” Anemone spoke with quiet conviction. She squeezed her hand. “The fools who claim the opposite haven’t an onze of your courage.” With her free hand, Anemone tucked the hair Serella had hidden her face with behind her long, pointed ear again. “Every scar you have is earned. You survived.”

“That…means much. Thank you, Anemone.” Serella said, and for the first time in a while when she smiled she didn’t feel the way her scars stretched her skin quite so much.

The hand not being held reached over to smooth a thumb over the apple of Anemone’s cheek. Before she could think better of it— and better of the way her heart thundered so loudly in her chest— Serella leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to Anemone’s temple.

“Wh-why?” Anemone asked, her voice only just a breathy whisper, her cheeks faintly flushed.

“Because,” Serella answered, her voice—and her smile— just as soft. “You see me.”

48. Out of Habit

Springtime had arrived with the bloom of wildflowers along the familiar, beaten paths between Gridania and Ala Mhigo, and the air was sweet with their scent. Lying in the shade of a tall oak tree upon a bed of the yellow, purple, and pink blooms, Serella breathed deep of Nophica’s perfume and sighed in bliss. She was not far from the path— close enough that even the tallest flowers around her would not obscure her from those who walked past.

Which was well, really: Serella was waiting for someone. And judging by the way the sun hung high in the midday sky when she cracked an eye open, her anticipated companions should be along shortly. Still, no sense in wasting such a golden opportunity for relaxing, she thought as she closed her eyes and stretched her limbs out.

A move that was taken as invitation, evidently; she had not even let herself go lax again before she felt two paws press a heavy weight onto her stomach.

“Oof!” Serella laughed, greeted by the sight of Hassan’s snout when she opened her eyes. Smiling wide enough her cheeks hurt, she sat up enough to give him all the pets and scritches she hadn’t been able to give him in their time apart. The carbuncle preened under the attention, happily flopping to and fro in the flowers, chirruping all the while. “Well, here you are, boy, but where might your mistress be?” She asked him.

“Not far behind, rest assured,” Anemone spoke from somewhere behind her. “You look content.”

“I am! You should come join us!” Throwing her head back far enough to see behind her, Serella laughed again at the upside down vision of Anemone walking off the path to join her. Anemone offered her a smile in return, even as she wordlessly moved to stand directly behind her.

“I see you,” Anemone said quietly, holding out her hand.

Serella turned to kneel before her to look up at her properly, then, at the way the sunlight gently haloed her friend in a warm, gentle glow, at the way her eyes glittered even from within the shade of her rose quartz hair, at the joyful curve of her lips, and the Paladin’s smile softened. Like a knight pledging fealty to her blessed patron, Serella brought Anemone’s offered hand to her lips and pressed a reverent kiss to her knuckles.

“And I see you.” Serella said in kind.