Intermission

Two people dressed as men entered a small town in southern Sonlettier. One walked, leading two horses, and the other still sat on one horse with a leg clearly splinted. They moved with a kind of familiarity as if they had been here before, the sitting one casually reminding the walking one where to go in a language some of the more worldly townsfolk recognised as Schtish.

Once at an inn, the two entered for a moment, the able-bodied supporting the other, then the able-bodied one left the building to take the horses to a stable before returning.

Inside the inn, the less-abled one spoke merrily with the middle-aged woman behind the counter. A voice not that deep and a little soft, almost musical, bringing to mind the scholars who spent all day with their noses in books. Certainly, this person looked pale and frail and both splint and clothes reinforced this thought.

As for the other one, well, it was hardly unheard of for these kinds of scholars to have a manservant. Especially for someone less-abled, hired help was necessary. More surprising was that there wasn’t more help for a trip.

“My Jules, come here,” the less-abled said in Sonlettian, beckoning with a gesture.

The one called Jules sighed, then moved the chair closer. “Can I help?” The words were a bit rough, Sonlettian clearly not Jules’s first language, but the words sounded genuine, supported by a tender-looking gaze.

In whispered Schtish, the other said, “Shall we provide some entertainment?”

Jules tried not to smile, mouth quirking for a moment before settling into a wry smile. “Aren’t we trying to not stand out?”

“When have I ever been able to walk into a room and not be the centre of attention?”

Jules had no answer, could only look down, hiding an indulgent smile. “Never.”

Taking that as passive agreement, the other tenderly stroked Jules’s cheek, left a kiss by the corner of Jules’s mouth, a whispered, “I love you,” by Jules’s ear.

“I love you too, my Sam.”

Epilogue

North of Formadgo, in a clearing by a stream, there sat a cottage. Snow blanketed the ground and tree tops and loosely fell, hoofprints leading from a field nearby to the pond in the clearing. Frozen ice had been broken up enough for the horses to drink and, as they did, a woman brushed them.

She looked like a mother, like women tended to after performing household chores day in and day out. Her arms had some muscle, waist chubby, face soft, shoulder-length brunette hair tied up in a bun and covered by a maid’s cap, keeping the chill off her ears that felt more sensitive to the cold every year.

As she finished up with the horses, sending them off with a good pat, a voice called out, “Lia, sweetie!”

Julie sighed, settling into a warm smile. Turning, she caught sight of her wife, Sammy.

Sammy had a similar physique. After all, they did the same chores and ate the same food and engaged in the same leisure. However, nature lingered, Sammy’s muscles more pronounced as, in Julie’s words, “Why does your fat all go to your chest and butt?” Sammy also liked to cut her hair in different ways. Currently, it was rather short and fell on one side, under which she shaved it short.

Although Julie avoided saying she liked or disliked Sammy’s hairstyles, wanting Sammy to present herself freely, Julie did like this style—and Sammy probably noticed, rendering her care pointless. Julie liked feeling the mix of stubble and soft hair, especially since she slid her hand across there when they intimately kissed. An exciting feeling for an exciting moment.

Having come back from the nearby town, Sammy was dressed in woollen trousers and a fur coat. Julie hated the coat. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, just that it was made from a bear she and Sammy had once killed, a terrifying memory. However, it was warm and Sammy only ever wore it to visit the town when it snowed.

Julie’s pout hardly subtle, Sammy chuckled, slipping off the coat. With a small detour, she left it and her rucksack by the door.

“Welcome home, honey,” Julie finally said.

Crunches underfoot, Sammy walked over to the pond. “I swear, we could turn the whole forest to charcoal and they would still buy it all,” she said, finishing with a peck on Julie’s cheek.

Julie giggled and repaid Sammy with a kiss on the tip of her nose. “People don’t like being cold, and it’s not like they have a clever wife who can make hot springs and running hot water and know all about insulating houses and, well, everything else.”

Grabbing Julie’s hand, Sammy grinned. “Great idea, let’s go for a soak,” she said, already leading Julie off.

“What about dinner?” Julie said, exasperated.

“What about dinner?” Sammy asked right back.

Julie sighed, but didn’t exactly push the matter or resist Sammy’s leading.

A cottage sat in the clearing, at the back of which was a patio. The top was covered and the sides had a low wall which was easily looked over when relaxing at the chairs and table, herbs and flowers that repelled bugs growing in planters just the other side of the walls. Although the floor was made of stone, loose snow didn’t settle, warm enough that the two often went barefooted.

At the other end of the patio was another building, smaller than the cottage. It was made of stone, the roof slate, about the size of a lounge, neither too small nor too grand. Sammy led them to the door, a trickle of steam escaping underneath.

The inside was simple: there was a shallow pool of water, and there was a wardrobe.

Well, not so simple.

The wardrobe was made by Sammy and varnished to survive in the damp room, with a vent at the back that let humid air out, a shallow tray for sawdust at the bottom that also helped keep moisture from the clothes. When closed, the doors made a perfect seal. As for what it was doing in the room, Julie had grown very tired of walking back to the cottage naked, Sammy partial to dragging her wife to soak at a moment’s notice. This was the compromise, holding some simple clothes for them to wear after the fact… not that Sammy wasn’t perfectly content to walk back naked herself.

The pool was beautifully made. Sammy had sealed the dug out pit, then carefully arranged smooth stones to make a comfortable lining, using crafted slabs of slate for a flat surface, perfect to sit on under the water and for the edge of the pool, easy to walk on. The result was something that looked completely natural, yet designed, Julie having said upon first seeing it, “Like a god made it.”

Of course, Sammy had taken offence to that. “Like a god could make this.”

The other half of the equation, a half-pipe brought in hot water, falling from shoulder height into the pool. It sounded wonderful and calming, especially on windy days, the howling wind and splashing water so soothing. Even if Julie didn’t bathe, she sometimes relaxed in here for the sound and the humid warmth. The hot water didn’t always run, operated by two mechanisms: one turned the flow of water on or off, the other controlled how hot. In summer, it could even be used as a cold spring.

A pool where water went in, water had to go out too. Sammy had dug in a pipe to drain from the bottom once the water reached a level, an ingenious little thing that took out the cold water without requiring them to pay attention.

Yet this wasn’t even the most incredible part.

“Shall we enjoy the snow?” Sammy asked.

Julie laughed and squeezed Sammy’s hand tightly. “Do you even have to ask?” she said lightly, then let go.

Together, they held a thick rope and started to pull. The entire building groaned, resisting, then friction finally gave up. Above them, the roof split in the middle, rows of slate tiles moving across and down until they stacked over the walls either side, sky clear to see. That wasn’t all, one whole wall tilting back and gradually lowering to the floor, snow crunching underneath, until it lay flat, flush with the raised floor of the hot spring.

The cold rushed in, steam from the water thickening, swirling in the breeze, and the lazy snow fluttered through it, melting away.

Not one to wait, Sammy immediately began to undress. Just that, rather than herself, she picked at Julie’s clothes, leaving Julie to laugh as she started undoing Sammy’s buttons. Everything went into the bottom drawer of the wardrobe.

Already feeling the cold, Julie hugged herself, knees rubbing as she shuffled. Sammy strode over to the mechanisms like there was nothing wrong and set the temperature. It could go hotter—all the way to boiling for when it came time to clean—but she knew her wife’s perfect temperature.

Sure enough, Julie waded over to the waterfall, sitting underneath with a content look and an even more content sigh. Hot enough to make her skin prickle, but not hurt.

Sammy chuckled as she went over to join her wife. “How is my little baked potato?” she asked lightly.

“She’s happily baking,” Julie replied, eyes closed, some of the water streaming over her face as most went down the back. An underwater seat here, Sammy built it so their shoulders would just stick out if sitting straight, just under if slouched. Julie sitting up straight, Sammy leaned over and kissed one of those wet shoulders.

Julie felt it, felt it was hotter than the water, felt her cheeks already start to heat up from the inside.

“If you wanted to do that, we should’ve left the wall up,” Julie mumbled, just loud enough for Sammy to hear.

“Hmm? I just kissed your shoulder and you think of doing dirty things?” Sammy asked, tone teasing.

Julie’s face scrunched up, instinctively splashing Sammy.

Sammy laughed it off, adjusting her position to hug Julie, head resting on her shoulder. “Haven’t you thought how magical it would be with the snow falling on us?”

A long few seconds of bowing her head, then Julie mumbled, “After dinner.”

Grinning, Sammy turned her head enough to kiss Julie’s cheek, then settled comfortably again. “Perfect.”

Silence fell, water splashing, wind whispering, snow falling, daylight fading. Peace. A deep and intense peace. Sammy felt so happy that she couldn’t die. It would have been far too wasteful to not enjoy this happiness for a lifetime—if not longer.

“Once we plant the saplings in spring, shall we visit Amélie and Sarah?” Sammy said.

Julie perked up. “Ah, baby should be here, right? They said they were expecting her to arrive around now,” she said.

“I still wonder what they did,” Sammy said, ending with a chuckle.

“Well, you’re the one who mentioned taking advantage of a drunk man,” Julie said, sharp tone thick with lingering disappointment.

Sammy didn’t argue. “And I apologised for the poor joke and made them promise not to,” she said.

“But, if they still did, it’s your fault for giving them the idea,” Julie said.

“Exactly. They certainly aren’t adults responsible for their actions,” Sammy replied.

Julie continued to pout, but her tone softened when she said, “I still remember when they came out to us. They looked so scared, so brave.”

“So young.”

Julie nodded. “It’s hard to think they’re grown up already, and we’re so old.”

“We’re barely thirty,” Sammy said, chiding. “Our life isn’t even a third of the way over.”

“How do you know we’ll live so long?” Julie asked.

Sammy’s loose arms tightened, hugging Julie close, and she said, “It would be a waste to die young.”

Silence followed, sentimental. Eventually, Julie asked, “We’re going to visit Lelytha?”

“Yeah, on the summer solstice. It’s a lot easier with sled dogs, right?” Sammy said.

Julie nodded.

There were many others to see on the way, places to go, foods to eat. For all they called the cottage home, they were often gone for half the year. However, of all the places in the world to call home, this quaint cottage in a clearing, where the snow fell every year, with a private hot spring and all the other amenities Sammy invented, was certainly the place Julie had never known she dreamed of.

Never known until she had met her wife.

“If you had one wish, what would you wish for?” Julie asked.

“Easy. I would have my leg healed so I can carry you to bed every night,” Sammy said.

Julie laughed. It began as tittering, then chuckling, then she couldn’t keep it in at all, mouth wide and eyes pinched, tears pooling.

Once she calmed down, Sammy said, “What, pray tell, is so funny?”

Julie let out a last sigh, smile lingering on her lips. “I thought you’d say that we fell in love sooner, or that the world treated people like us the same as husbands and wives, or for some clever new blessing that would let you do even more inventive things.”

“All I want is to be your wife, nothing more, nothing less,” Sammy said, her soft voice full of heat.

Julie shivered, ears tickled by the tone. After a deep breath, she broke out of Sammy’s hug and turned around, then scooped Sammy up, lifting her out of the water. “Well, I’m your wife too, so you can leave some things to me,” she said, voice low and throaty.

Sammy smiled, narrowed eyes teasing. “Okay.”

A Lifetime Later

“They’ve been friends since birth, you know. Born just a minute apart and their mothers were part of the same baby group.”

“I was at their ninth birthday and found them sneaking kisses in the kitchen.”

“What took them so long? I thought they eloped as soon as they turned eighteen when I didn’t get a wedding invitation.”

“They gave me mine in person. Apparently, they wanted to focus on university first.”

“Well, that’s good. It’s not like anyone didn’t already know.”

“Exactly. I still remember when I first saw them wearing their engagement rings—”

“And you could just tell how happy they were.”

“So sweet, just like when James proposed to me. I couldn’t stop smiling for months.”

“Ay, look at you, you’re still smiling now!”

“You got me.”

The old ladies’ chatter came to an abrupt stop, silenced by the first billowing note of the organ. Like a magic spell, everyone instinctively turned to look back at the hall’s doors, holding their breaths. Note after note played, echoing in the grand hall, deep and slow and yet, instead of sombre, they were full of joy, the joy of life that had ups and downs and moments of peace in-between.

Then finally, two people emerged in the doorway. On the left, the woman stood tall in a fine dress, vibrant, a vivid crimson with golden detailing, her black hair tied in a bun with long hairpins sticking out, a beautiful design hanging off each one, gold glittering as it swayed.

On the right, a woman dressed in blue. If the other dress was extravagant, this one was elegant. A pastel blue like shallow water, accentuated with white lace and silvery embroidery, her blonde hair in loose curls, fringe kept aside by a hair clip with a single, small diamond on it. Over her shoulders, she had a woollen shawl, the pattern like bleached tartan, a matching pastel blue base with white and silvery strips. To finish her outfit, she wore a ribbon as a choker around her neck, a milky colour.

The other woman also wore a ribbon as a choker; however, it rather stood out, out of place. A colour like chestnuts, woody brown with a hint of red. Everyone involved in the wedding had commented on the colour at one point or another, suggesting a matching red.

Everyone but the brides, who both thought it felt… right.