(Late) March Patron Exclusive: Once More to See You bonus chapter

Hello my wonderful patrons! So uh, I kinda missed the March deadline. Sorry about that. ADHD is kind of a bitch, as it turns out. Regardless, here it is on April 1st, which I promise is not a prank.

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Madelyn was one to grow anxious over little things. At least, she had been one to grow anxious over little things. That was the idea, anyway. But getting to finally be with Syibl after everything she’d been through had done wonders for that. Again, that was the idea, anyway. Which wasn’t to say said idea was false; Madelyn  had, in general, been very happy, the happiest she had ever been, in fact. That still didn’t stop things from getting difficult, from time to time. All the rational parts of her brain told Madelyn that no, nothing was wrong. She was worrying over nothing, making a big deal about a situation she had entirely constructed herself. Yet, Sybil had been more distant lately. Not colder, or disinterested, when she had the time, Sybil showered Madelyn in all manner of affection. But that was just it, she hadn’t had the time lately, not as much time, anyway.

Lately, Sybil had spent an unusual amount of time away, so to speak. There were her frequent day trips into town, to work her market stall, the ones she had forbidden Madelyn from joining her on. Well, not forbidden, rather, strongly encouraged otherwise. She would say things like “oh but you’ll bore yourself to tears if you come with me, I won’t be doing anything exciting,” or “‘Ruuki has been feeling lonely lately and she hates going into town, can you stay behind and look after her?” On top of that, Sybil had been spending far too much time in her study, nose buried in one book or another, or making trips to Illis’ tower to find more books, or practicing incantations that required “the utmost concentration.” Something was going on, and the worst part was, whenever Madelyn pressed Sybil for answers—which, admittedly, Madelyn’s attempts hadn’t exactly been the most forthcoming—all Sybil would do was deflect, change the subject, get flustered and stammer, or any combination of the three.

All together, it was enough to awaken that deep-seated insecurity which had lay in hibernation for so long. The fear that, despite everything, Sybil still had doubts. There had come a point at which Madelyn became certain that she had escaped a life living in the shadow of the spell. A point at which all the turmoil and doubt which had hung like a dark, hazy cloud of miasma around Madelyn through that entire ordeal seemed a distant memory. Yet lately those feelings had been drawn into sharp relief, breeding dark thoughts. What if Sybil had come to some discovery or realization that led her to re-examine everything she had turned her back on when she chose Madelyn? Perhaps it had been something Madelyn said or did, perhaps Sybil had come across some epiphany or magical secret that had previously eluded her. Perhaps it was something else entirely. Madelyn just didn’t know. The logical parts of her mind told her not to listen to her deepest anxieties. Told her Sybil loved her. Told her Sybil cherished her. And sometime that was enough, sometimes she could listen to that part of herself. Inevitably though, the unpleasant buzzing of fear and doubt would come home to roost.

Admittedly, Madelyn may have been acting a tad overdramatic. The logical parts of her brain again reminded her that on most days she didn’t get like this. Most of the time, she was happy as ever. Most of the time, Sybil was her usual, attentive, engaged self. But telling that to herself didn’t help; Sybil had hardly said a word to Madelyn all day. They had awoken in bed, limbs interlocked, Sybil’s face buried in Madelyn’s neck; Sybil had purred a dreamy ‘good morning’ pressed her lips to Madelyn’s jaw, whispered some sweet nothing or other in their ear, and lingered quietly in their arms for a while, only to disappear off into her study, from which she had yet to emerge.

It was exactly as Madelyn formed those thoughts when, with what would otherwise be quite excellent comedic timing, Sybil emerged from her study, some old looking tome in hand, striding purposefully toward her front door. As she did so her gaze casually swept the room until it fell on Madelyn, lounging upon her sofa. Upon seeing them, Sybil adjusted her course, and scurried over to give her Madelyn a quick peck on the cheek. And it was a sweet gesture, the sort Madelyn had come to expect from Sybil after months upon months of sharing a space with her. But it wasn’t enough to pull them from their spiral. Madelyn forced a smile, and returned the kiss with one of her own. For a moment, it seemed that was that, Sybil pulled away, about to resume her original course, then, as her eyes lingered one last moment upon Madelyn’s face, realization dawned on her. Her peppy demeanor crumbled into one of concern and care as she lightly tossed her book upon a nearby table sat beside Madelyn, clutching her hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“I—” Madelyn caught herself just as she was about to deny the notion entirely. “Are you going out?”

“I was going to, yes, but it can wait.” As though to drive the point home, Sybil flicked her hand toward the door, bolting it shut. Not that she couldn’t just open it again whenever she liked just as easily, but the gesture was appreciated.

“Can you stay?” Madelyn whispered.

“You’ve been lonely, haven’t you?” The right words weren’t coming, so Madelyn just nodded. “I’m sorry. Not today then, we’re spending today together.” Nothing about her tone suggested Sybil would hear any argument or excuses. Though, to be honest, they didn’t have any.

“Thank you.” Without waiting for a reply, Madelyn leaned up and pulled Sybil into a tight embrace, finding her lips with their own. They stayed that way for a while, lips and limbs intertwined, until both fell back into a relaxed, content pile. Time passed, each listening to the other’s breathing, heartbeat, little coos and sighs, until finally, Sybil sat up and looked her lover in the eyes.

“Hey, why don’t we go somewhere?” She asked, standing and taking Madelyn by the hand, pulling her to her feet.

“Where?”

“Not sure, into the woods? We’ll go on a walk.” That eager look on Sybil’s face was infectious, and impossible to deny.

“Alright, fine, you win.” Groaning in a lethargic stretch, Madelyn sat up and followed Sybil to the door, where she donned her shoes, and allowed herself to be led wherever Sybil decided to take her. The spring air was fresh, warm and bright, it had the crisp earthy scent of nature which had been freshly rained upon. Luckily though, the rain wasn’t so fresh as to force Sybil and Madelyn to trek through mud. They walked, hand in hand along the familiar trails, Madelyn’s head resting on Sybil’s shoulder as she listened to the woman she loved prattle on about various botanical facts relating to some plant or other they passed, or dive into an overly detailed explanation of the unique soils and minerals and fauna of her forest. Honestly, it was all quite impressive; at times like this Sybil reminded Madelyn of a stereotypical impassioned university professor from back home, unable to keep herself from tirelessly expounding on her latest research to anyone and everyone who would listen. It was surprisingly endearing, and just as dorky.

For her own part, Madelyn had always seen nature as a pretty, quiet place to relax or gather their thoughts, but had never really paid much attention to what tree or plant or rock was what. The fact that she now resided on another planet which seemed to pick and choose at its own leisure what it did or didn’t borrow from Earth meant she knew even less. As such, for the most part Madelyn just appreciated that everything looked nice, and that being around her girlfriend put her in a good mood. Eventually, the two reached a clearing, and Sybil came to a halt. “I’m getting a little tired, why don’t we sit?” She asked, before producing a blanket from thin air and laying it flat. Madelyn had seen dozens, if not hundreds of little tricks like that, though they never ceased to surprise and amuse her. She nodded, and lay down upon the blanket, joined by Sybil, who spooned her from behind.

Really, it was quite the nice little spot. The clearing was lined neatly with trees a shrubs, affording a nice curtain of privacy—not that privacy were much of a concern—not far, likely just out of sight, Madelyn could hear the persistent, rhythmic gurgle of water flowing over stone. Flowers dotted the place, cropping up here and there, decorating the grassy green canvas with bursts of reds, blues, oranges, purples. A warm, gentle breeze sang through the trees and tickled her cheek. It was the sort of place one might find a photo of in the dictionary under the definition of “romantic picnic spot.” That was, if “romantic picnic spot” were in any sort of dictionary. Not that they were having a picnic, or that Madelyn would have wanted to budge even a little from her place at Sybil’s side for some morsel of food or gulp of wine. The point was, it was picturesque, and the feel of Sybil’s body against her own served as a more perfect pairing than anything Madelyn could ever dream up.

Lying together like that, time slowed to a crawl. From time to time, the two spoke, words gently floating through the air into ears of the other. But if one were to ask Madelyn what they talked about, she wouldn’t really be able to answer. It was inconsequential talk in that way that only incredible intimacy could achieve. The sort of talk where what was being said mattered little, where words were uttered simply as an anchor, a persistent reminder to one that the other was present, with her. They were sweet sounds more than anything. She couldn’t be certain, but Madelyn got the sense that she may have drifted in and out of consciousness a few times. Sybil had likely done the same. It was hard not to, with the faint warmth of the sun blanketing their skin, the sweet smell of grass and fresh flowers, the soothing ambiance of bird calls and flowing streams accenting whatever loving exchange of words took place from one moment to another.

Like this, Madelyn forgot all about her worries, her anxieties, her doubts. She had almost forgotten she’d had them to begin with. And it was tempting, to just let that be it. To allow her pain to be carried away, along with Sybil’s soothing words, by the spring breeze. Some other Madelyn in some other moment could face those problems. But that wouldn’t solve anything. Her doubts were not gone, they were lulled, tranquilized, hibernating. And she couldn’t just let them smolder like this, as one day they would flare up again. To put it plainly, Madelyn and Sybil needed to talk. Actually talk, not just continue with their dreamy exchange of loose sounds that were more akin to vague feelings of positivity bundled and parceled by words. Which was scary, and inconvenient.

She didn’t want this to end. And beyond that, she especially didn’t want to face down the possibility that something was actually wrong in their relationship. But she had to, if her past adventure with Sybil had taught her anything, it was that letting these feelings fester only made things worse. That didn’t make things any easier. Sighing, Madelyn savored one last span of slow, stretched seconds saturated by this relaxation and contentment. The she turned about, so she and Sybil could lay face to face. “Hey,” Madelyn exhaled.

“Something on your mind?” Sybil murmured distantly, still caught in the sapphic spell of their lazy afternoon. Not that Sybil knew anything about Sappho.

“Can we talk? Something’s been bothering me.” Her voice was barely even a whisper, each word a struggle to utter, but Sybil got the hint. She lightly grumbled, stretched, and took Madelyn by the hand, squeezing firmly.

“What’s wrong?” Her words dripped with concern and care. That, at least, was reassuring.

“I don’t—I feel like you’re hiding something from me,” Madelyn admitted. “You spend so much time alone in your study, or off in town just—away—from me. And it hurts. I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you. And I feel like a bitch for even suggesting you ever could leave me because obviously I know on an intellectual level that you love me but that doesn’t change the, well...”

“It doesn’t change the traumatized parts of you? The parts that tell you you’re not good enough, no matter how many times I show you otherwise?” On a whim, Sybil had once asked Madelyn if they could stock up on all manner of scientific texts the next time they visited Earth. She read a few books on mental illness and suddenly fancied herself some kind of psychologist. Not that she was wrong.

“Yeah.”

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” Gently, she ran a finger down Madely’s side, growing pensive and anxious as she withdrew into her thoughts. A few times, she tried to speak, before abandoning the words altogether, then finally hung her head, a defeated look on her face. “That’s not good enough, though.”

“What’s not good enough?”

“Me telling you it’s nothing bad. Me asking you to trust me and leave it be. It’s still going to eat at you.” An echo of disappointment, perhaps shame lurked in Sybil’s words. She pulled Madelyn tighter, lightly brushing their lips with her own, then looked away. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“What was? What’s wrong?” Suddenly Madelyn found herself worried more for Sybil than herself.

“Hey, it’s alright. Calm down,” Sybil soothed, tightening her grip once again. “I just, there was going to be this whole thing. And it was going to be perfect and the most romantic thing. We were supposed to go to Earth, and I would take you to dinner, I even found a way to get ahold of some of those, what were they called ‘dallors?’”

Perplexed, Madelyn narrowed her eyes, “what are you talking about?”

“The surprise,” Sybil fretted, weakly throwing her hands up, before returning them. “It’s why I’ve been so busy. I had to earn enough money to buy the reagents I couldn’t get from Illis’ stockpile, and also to pay for the, err, the other thing. And I was hoping I could use magic to, well, make some counterfeit Earth money. That took a lot of research, plus I was researching Earth customs and I had to find a way to make the arrangements without you knowing and I just—” she slumped forward. “This isn’t making a lot of sense, is it?”

“Not really, no,” Madelyn admitted.

“I guess I may as well just tell you. I’ve already kind of spoiled the plan.” Her lips plumped into a pout as she breathed a conflicted sigh, reaching into her pouch, then withdrawing a closed fist, which she offered. “I um, we don’t really have the same traditions around here when it comes to relationships, but when I was reading one of those books you got me I learned about this and thought it would make you happy.”

“Sybil, you’re shaking, what’s wrong?” They soothingly reached forward to stroke Sybil’s cheek.

“Just um, surprisingly nervous?” A laugh forced its way past her lips as she opened her palm to reveal a gold ring fixed with a glittering red gemstone. “I um, I had it made from that old crystal I had. The one I dreamt about before finding it at the market. You remember me showing you, right?” Madelyn could barely manage a nod in response, was this really happening? Was it what she thought it was? “Well, anyway It used to be this anchor for me, you know? Proof that the dreams were real and I’d get to meet you someday. But with all that over, I—I don’t know. I guess I thought it would be nice if, instead of representing a possible future I might get to have with some vague idea of a person, it represented the very real, very clear future I get to have with you.” Glancing away, Sybil blushed, fighting tears through a nervous smile.

Sitting stunned, Madelyn gaped silently at the woman before her, gaped so long that the nervous little tearful grin started to fade into worry. Making her worry was out of the question, Madelyn could not allow the woman she adored to doubt their answer for a second longer. With that catalyst in effect, the jammed gears of Madelyn’s mind started to turn once more in unison, and she beamed brightly. Also, she maybe, definitely cried a little. Okay, it was a lot. She cried a lot. Somehow, Madelyn found both words to say and a voice to utter them, “Sybil, are you asking me to marry you?” She choked, voice quivering.

Blushing, Sybil shrugged weakly. “I, um, not exactly? Don’t get me wrong, there just isn’t really marriage on this planet. At least, not in the same sense as what it is on Earth. But, you know, functionally, yes? I want to spend the rest of my life with you Madelyn, and I thought maybe this could symbolize that. I have one being made for me, too. But it’s not done yet.” Nervously, she paused, glancing from the ring, to Madelyn as her lip quivered. “So, I guess, maybe just think it over or, I don’t know. I’m sorry this whole thing wound up such a disaster and I get it if you’re mad at me for making you feel all lonely lately. I didn’t mean to make you worry and now I’ve ruined the whole surprise. You don’t have to give me an answer yet or anything and I completely understand if you need to sleep on it or you’re not ready to forgive me for—”

Tasting her own salty tears as they trickled down to the biggest smile she may have ever smiled, Madelyn pressed a finger to the witch’s lips. “You’re stalling, Sybil,” she sobbed. “Now don’t you dare utter one more apology. You’re being a complete idiot right now. How could my answer ever be anything other than yes?” The kisses that followed were sloppy, and full of tears, and constantly interrupted by sobs, and laughter, and sniffles. They was wet, and messy, both Sybil and Madelyn were shaking so hard that they quite literally slid off one another or missed their intended targets with astounding frequency. All in all, it was a disaster. And they were the best kisses the two had ever shared.