A Standup Philosopher
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Nothing Is True 27
🕑 Added 2025-05-30 18:00:10 +0000 UTCIt was the last day of the Conclave, and excitement was at a fever pitch in and out of the palace alike. The feast a few days past, featuring as a center-piece the yong pauna that had been hunted down and slain personally by their Heda and her guests, had been a welcome surprise, and the revelry had continued well into the next morning and had resulted in a postponement of the day’s scheduled events as everyone, from the Heda on down, nursed hangovers, post coital bliss, bruises, and more from a night of feasting, fighting, and fucking. The fact that Caris was far and away the favorite to win was extra fuel on the proverbial fire, as it would mean a new Chosen and all the cultural and social security that such a thing implied.
Not to mention the fact that everyone loved a winner, and a winner is exactly what Caris would be once she fought her final match.
Added on to that was the fact that just about everyone in Polis, including the previously concerned and reluctant quartet of Lexa, Costia, Niylah, and Ontari, had utterly fallen in love with the two wolf pups that Clarke had adopted -or been adopted by- during the aforementioned hunt. It only made sense, really, given that they were currently -despite the astonishing rate with which they had grown, helped along by copious amounts of food both given and stolen. Mutated or not, a canine was still a canine, and the size of a puppy had little effect on how well it could beg or snatch- still little more than pups. Granted, they were the size a full grown ‘natural’ dog at this point, but given the size of their mother, the description of ‘puppy’ was still the only one remotely appropriate.
After the first time they had joined the family for dinner, eating enough food to feed any two members of the group -and after a quiet bit of advice from ALIE-, Clarke had decided that her new pets should be named for the wolves of Odin from Norse Mythology. Geri and Freki*, which were amusing enough names as it was considering the pronunciation, but the fact that the most-often applied epithet based on the translation of their names was ‘The Ravenous Ones’, it seemed almost painfully appropriate.
Yet despite that excitement which permeated the city and the palace, despite the amusement and delight brought by the two young wolves, there was a tension in the later. Two tensions, perhaps, if one considered Clarke’s tension and that of those ‘in the know’ about her identity to be separate despite the factors that united them. Of course, in fairness, Clarke didn’t know that there was anyone who knew her identity, which only made things more tense for those that did, since they had unfortunate concerns about just how the golden-haired sky-girl would react to the big reveal.
For her part, Clarke’s major concern was reaching The Vault beneath the palace without getting caught, noticed, followed, or otherwise interfered with. No mean feat, that, given how carefully she was watched by her new-found friends, not to mention the staff and guards of the palace itself. ALIE would help her, of course, and it wasn’t like she didn’t know exactly where she needed to go -theoretically, of course, she obviously hadn’t been there personally yet- but that didn’t change the fact that actually doing the deed wouldn’t be easy.
Especially not since Niylah, as she so often was, was attached to her by the hip.
Quite literally at the moment, as it happened, because her thrallina had decided to procure a few toys from the bunker while they were hiding after the pauna’s attack, and she had been plenty eager to help Clarke learn how to use them to their fullest effect. In this particular moment’s case, a double-ended dildo with a very comfortable harness and some very nice nerve stimulation abilities, above and beyond the more natural stimulation it offered. A double ended dildo that was currently buried in both their tunnels and causing all manner of utter delight as she slowly thrust in and out of her softly sighing lover.
"So good, domina. Fuck..." Niylah moaned, her back arching to thrust her breasts into Clarke’s face as the topping blonde rolled her hips with increasingly practiced strokes. The domina-in-training had proven to be just as quick a study with their new toys as she had with the act of dominance itself, much to Niylah's delight.
Clarke leaned down to capture Niylah's lips in a searing kiss, using the motion to drive the paired shafts deeper into both of them, something that made them gasp into each other’s mouths in unison, their interlaced fingers tightening together, and Niylah shifted the angle of her hips to let Clarke take her even more deeply. Something that she was perfectly willing to do, for more than one reason.
Not least of which was that, if her lover was too exhausted from repeated use to do anything but collapse into bed when the day was finally done, it would make sneaking out of her rooms that much easier later tonight.
"Mmmm, that’s my girl. God, Sunshine." she hummed against Niylah's neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there as she maintained a steady rhythm. "You feel so good wrapped around me. I thought you were responsive before, but now you’re something else entirely, aren’t you? Is that because of you or me, hmm?"
Niylah's only response was a breathless, nonverbal moan, her eyes fluttering closed as Clarke increased her pace, pushing both of them closer to orgasm. The thrallina's legs wrapped tighter around Clarke's hips, feet resting on the small of her back and brushing against the upper curve of her ass, pulling her impossibly closer as the double-ended toy sent waves of pleasure through both their bodies.
"You're not answering me, you know." Clarke teased, slowing her thrusts to a complete stop, something that had Niylah whimpering pleadingly beneath her. "I asked you a question, thrallina."
"Both," Niylah gasped, her pleasure-clouded eyes latching onto Clarke’s and lingering intensely. "It's both, domina. You've learned so quickly, you’re so good to me, and I—gods, I want to please you so badly. I want to make you cry out, I want you to take everything you want from me, I want you to praise me and hold me and…!"
Clarke rewarded such passionate honesty with a sharp thrust that made them both moan, silencing her lover’s tongue, and she smirked lustfully at the way Niylah’s eyes rolled back again. She could feel the telltale tightening in her core, the now-familiar, building pressure that signaled her approaching climax, a strong climax, not that she ever had a poor one with her girl. Niylah was close too, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around the shaft buried inside her, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.
"I want you to cum for me, Sunshine. I want to see it, I want to hear it. So do it." Clarke commanded roughly, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to hold on any longer and not willing to be the only one to peak. "Now."
Niylah's body instantly responded to the command, her eyes slamming shut and her back arching sharply as a keening cry tore from her throat, breasts heaving up into Clarke’s face. Her inner walls clamped down hard on the shaft, pulsing with waves of pleasure that Clarke could feel through their shared toy. The sight of her submissive lover coming undone beneath her was enough to push the more dominant of the pair over the edge as well, and she thrust as deeply as she could one final time, grinding her hips against Niylah's as her own orgasm crashed through her.
"Fuck, yes." Clarke groaned, collapsing forward onto her elbows as aftershocks rippled through both their bodies. She pressed her forehead against Niylah's, their breath mingling as they slowly came down from their shared high, their breasts pressing together, their slick skin gliding together as they started to cool down. "That's my good girl."
Niylah's eyes fluttered open, heavy-lidded and sated, a dopey smile spreading across her face at the rush of sex-born endorphins and the praise. She leaned up, kissing Clarke softly, clearly savouring the closeness, humming softly in pleasure against Clarke’s mouth as the movement caused the toy to shift inside of both of them. A hum that became a moaning cry, soft and long, as Clarke rolled them over, leaving Niylah -still impaled- draped across the taller girl’s chest.
“Mmh, you’re getting better every time, domina. Pretty soon, you’ll be wearing me out and still have more to give. I’ll have to find another thrallina for you, if Heda, Kostia, and Ontari don’t become your lovers first.” Niylah murmured softly when she had caught her breath, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across Clarke’s pectorals and collarbone, nuzzling softly into one of her breasts.
Clarke chuckled, her fingers threading through Niylah's sweat-dampened hair, combing it gently and enjoying the way the light glimmered and gleamed off the strands. "I already have you, what would I need another thrallina for? Besides, weren’t you the one that was worried others would be less genuine and should be avoided?" She placed a soft kiss on the top of Niylah's head as her Sunshine hummed softly and giggled. "As for the others, I'm not sure the Commander and her companions would appreciate being offered up like dessert."
"You underestimate how much they appreciate you, domina." Niylah said, shifting slightly to look up at Clarke's face. The movement caused the toy still nestled inside them both to shift again, drawing a soft gasp from each woman, a lazy smile spreading across two pairs of lips. "I've seen how they watch you, especially Heda. There's respect there, and something else. Something deeper, something hidden."
"Suspicion, probably." Clarke murmured wryly, though not entirely genuinely, as she set about carefully extracting herself from their intimate connection with an instinctive pout as she worked the toy out of both of them and put it aside to be cleaned. Her pussy, now empty and all-too-warm, clenched hungrily as her mind threw images at her. Images of Lexa, Costia, and Ontari naked. In the bath, water-slicked and perfumed, soaked hair cascading around them in untamed waves. Of them sweat-slicked and passionate, tasting and touching and holding one another, their eyes on her and hers on them. She knew that they were attracted to her, and God knew she was attracted to them, and she knew what ALIE and her ancestor and their people expected would be her future relationship with them, but she had to admit she was finding the prospect of marriage to be more than a little daunting. As much as she adored Niylah, their relationship was…somewhat simple. Oh, there was nuance and complexity, but Niylah simply wanted to serve her as best she could. She had no responsibilities, and desired no responsibilities, beyond being hers and supporting her. The other three women represented far more complicated things, like prophecy and leadership and politics.
Shaking the image aside, she settled herself back into position, pulling Niylah into her embrace again, content to be lazy for at least a few minutes, before they went to lunch with their friends. And friends is exactly what they were, despite the brevity of the time that she had known them. Which really made the secrets that lay between them all the more painful, but they were necessary. She hadn’t intended to reveal herself to the clans anytime soon as it was, and ALIE had been quite clear that she couldn’t do so at the very least until she had entered the Vault and claimed the legacy that waited for her there. What would happen after that, she didn’t know for sure, but she knew it would be life-changing. God knew everything else had been in her life for the last couple of years, and certainly since she had made planetfall. Then again, changing her life -and the lives of those around her- for the better was something that she had always wanted, wasn’t it?
“Domina, as much as I’m enjoying this, Heda and the others will be expecting you for lunch soon. We’ll have plenty of time for fun and for what comes after during the celebrations tonight, after Caris becomes Chosen. Post-Conclave celebrations are always spectacular, but with a new Chosen? I’ll be surprised if they come to an end sometime in the next week.” Niylah mumbled into her breast, the sensation of her lips moving on her nipple different but no less arousing than when she was suckling on it instead. “So we should get cleaned up and get dressed, unless you want to go to lunch like this…?”
There was a note to her voice, hidden just enough to be deniable, -and if it wasn’t for how much experience she had gained with her lover these last few weeks, Clarke might have missed it entirely- a note of hunger there. Of interest, of excitement, and it took only a few moments for Clarke to realize what it was born from. Niylah wanted to go to lunch like this. She wanted everyone to see her, sweat-and-cum slicked, skin purpling from bruises and bites both. Wanted them to smell the mingled sweat and sex wafting off of her.
Kinky girl. Clarke thought to herself with a pulse of aroused approval that would have been, if not alien and rejected outright, than at least pushed aside not so very long ago. Instead, she was very much considering doing it. A little bit of probing, giving Niylah just enough rope to reveal what she wanted one way or the other, was called for. And if Niylah really did want it, well…she bit her lower lip, feeling another pulse of arousal.
"Would you like that, Sunshine?" Clarke murmured, her voice dropping to that husky register that never failed to make Niylah shiver against her. "To walk into lunch with everyone knowing exactly what we've been doing? The scent of sex still on your skin, my marks all over you..." She trailed a fingertip down Niylah's spine, smiling at the goosebumps that followed her touch, her words. “There would be no way to hide it, you know. Every servant we passed, every guard that saw us, they’d all be able to take one look at you and know exactly what you are, wouldn’t they? My sweet, submissive little Niylah, ravished and ruined.”
Honestly, she couldn’t believe some of the things she was saying, copied and combined from the various filthy things she had heard others -like Lexa and Costia- say to one another in times like this, in moments of passion and pleasure, but she had found that she loved saying such things…and that Niylah loved hearing them.
Niylah's breath hitched, her pupils dilating visibly as she met Clarke’s eyes. "Oh, no, you can’t. The shame would be too much! I couldn’t survive such a thing! Being paraded around in front of everyone like that, put on display like that…”
If it wouldn’t have utterly ruined the moment, Clarke would have laughed at how terrible the lie was. Niylah’s nervous excitement was all-to-clear on her face, pulsing in every syllable of her words, and in the fresh trickle of damp desire that Clarke felt on her thigh. God, she had the feeling that she could order Niylah to wear nothing at all and be thanked for the pleasure, and her pussy throbbed at the sudden, uninvited, but not at all unwelcome image of leading a naked Niylah around on a leash.
God damn, that was an image that wouldn’t be leaving her mind anytime soon.
“Oh, in that case I’m just going to have to do it, aren’t I? I wouldn’t want you to start thinking that you can tell me what to do, after all.” she murmured lowly, trying to sound stern and likely failing, so aroused was she. Palming a healthy handful of her lover’s ass, she spanked in sharply. “Go on, get up. I’m going to give myself a scrub. While I’m doing that, get a change of clothes ready for me.”
"Yes, domina." Niylah breathed, her cheeks flushed with anticipation as she climbed off Clarke. She moved with deliberate slowness, making no effort to cover her marked body or clean herself as she padded -hips swaying enticingly- across the room to start looking for a suitable outfit.
Clarke watched her go, admiring the view as she stretched languidly on the bed. There was something intoxicating about the power she held, something she never would have expected to enjoy before coming to the ground, having thought about sex very little indeed in the Skybox, too busy as she was keeping it (and everyone in it) functioning smoothly. The rush of commanding someone who wanted nothing more than to obey, to please—it was addictive in ways she never would have imagined, and she hummed long and low in her throat as Niylah bent over for no apparent reason, flashing her glistening pussy at her.
She rose from the bed and started towards the bathroom, pausing briefly and glancing over her shoulder.
“Sunshine?”
The girl turned to look at her expectantly, cocking a hip out to give another glimpse of the treasure between her thighs, and Clarke had to remind herself that they needed to actually leave the room if they -if she- wanted to go about their plans today.
“Make sure you don’t pick anything too concealing for yourself. I’d hate to have to punish you for trying to be sneaky and hide yourself away.” she ‘warned’, turning away as Niylah flushed from her cheeks to her breasts and nodded rapidly, wondering if her thrallina would obey or deliberately invite a punishment onto herself.
Either option was tempting, and equally possible if she had to guess, and Clarke had to admit she'd enjoy both scenarios. Her mind flashed to the various implements they'd discovered in the bunker, wondering which might be most effective for a proper "punishment." The thought sent another wave of heat through her core as she stepped into the bathroom.
The water was blissfully cool against her heated skin as she quickly scrubbed herself clean, deliberately avoiding the sensitive areas between her legs. No need to work herself up again when she'd be in public -for a given value of ‘public’- soon enough. Being too aroused to focus on the meal and the conversation wouldn’t do her any good, even if she had found herself somewhat enjoying being aroused and on edge for a prolonged period of time.
Not as much as she enjoyed keeping Niylah like that, of course, but still.
"Your clothes are ready, domina," Niylah called from the bedroom, her voice carrying that eager-to-please tone that Clarke had come to adore, and there was an anticipation there as well. Clarke felt a thrill of curiosity spike through her body, wondering what it was that would be waiting for her when she stepped back into her room.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Clarke found Niylah kneeling beside the bed, a set of clothing draped across plush mattress and tangled sheets. Her own outfit was exactly the sort of thing that Clarke would have hoped for—a short, gossamer-thin wrap that would leave little to the imagination, especially with nothing underneath it. The marks on her skin would be visible through the fabric, and some would peek out from the edges entirely. God, her nipples were clearly visible, and the lower hem of the garment barely went low enough to keep her sex from being on display. Somehow, the barely-there garments were just as enticing -perhaps even more so- than when her Niylah was entirely naked.
"Do you approve, domina?" Niylah asked coyly, gesturing to the outfit on the bed, a distinctly -if subtly- smug expression on her face as she watched Clarke nigh-on-physically drag her gaze away to actually inspect the offered clothes.
For Clarke, Niylah had chosen something that struck a perfect balance between modest and alluring: a sleeveless blue tunic that matched her eyes, with slits up both sides to reveal flashes of stomach and thigh when she walked, and soft leather pants that hugged her curves without being restrictive.
"Very nice, I like it." Clarke nodded approvingly, running her fingers over the fabric, before discarding the towel completely -enjoying the way Niylah’s eyes drank her form in- and starting to dress. "Did you have this put aside specially?"
"I may have given a seamstress or two your measurements and requested a few things." Niylah admitted with a small smile, preening at the obvious approval her dominant held towards her offering. "For various... occasions. You’re a beautiful woman, domina, and you deserve clothes that accentuate that beauty.”
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Clarke smirked, pulling the tunic over her head and adjusting it slightly. The fabric felt luxurious against her skin, a far cry from the utilitarian clothing of the Ark, and they fit her like a glove. It was…different, in a very good way. Even the admittedly high-quality clothing that she had worn since becoming Lexa’s guest in the palace didn’t match the comfort that this made-to-order outfit did. "Though I think I'm supposed to be the one lavishing you with gifts, not the other way around. Aren’t I supposed to pamper my pet?"
The word slipped from her mouth without any involvement from her brain, doubtlessly born from the earlier image of a collared and leashed Niylah, and she glanced at her lover with an apology ready, only to pause at the brilliant smile and heavy blush that the other blonde was sporting. Niylah bowed lowly, breasts swaying unrestricted in her top.
"Being yours is more than enough for me, domina. Staying yours, even when you take wives and lovers and expand your thrallinas, would be better still.” she said a bit breathlessly, though it was obvious she was deadly serious despite her tone. “But if you wish to pamper me, I won’t object. Especially not if it makes it obvious to others that I am yours.”
…maybe that collar-and-leash fantasy would be playing out sooner than Clarke would have ever imagined, she thought to herself as she stepped up to Niylah and wrapped one hand around the side of her neck, using one thumb on the curve of Niylah’s jaw to tilt her face up.
“You won’t be going anywhere, Sunshine. Whether or not our family includes anyone else or if it’s just the two of us for the rest of our lives, you’re mine, and I’m not willing to give you up.” she promised, her eyes darkening slightly as she continued. “And anyone that tries to take you from me will regret it. I protect my people, I’ll do anything for them, and you’re one of mine now.”
Niylah shivered, her eyes half-shutting in arousal and upswelling emotion alike at the firm vow and dark promise in Clarke’s words, and she smiled slightly, reaching up to take Clarke’s free hand in both of her own and press a kiss to the palm.
“Yours.” she affirmed, before stepping back slightly and inclining her head respectfully. “Might I escort you to lunch now, domina?”
“Yeah, let’s go. I’m pretty hungry, and I’m sure you are as well. Besides,” Clarke grinned, the darkness in her eyes turning to the familiar, adored gleam of desire. “I need to drag you through the palace so everyone can see you like this, don’t I?”
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Leksa knew that she should be watching Caris, her soon-to-be-sister, tear through the last of the trials separating her from Chosen-hood. It was an important moment, after all, one that would greatly influence the days to come, and it certainly wouldn’t do for her to appear inattentive or dismissive either. Yet she found her eyes, her attention and focus, almost constantly drifting to where Klark was lounging, watching the events playing out below them with every image of rapt attention. She was a beautiful image to look at, even more so now that she had shed some of her outer layers so that she could pull Niylah in to lap at her sex whenever she was feeling particularly aroused -a constant sight that had left Leksa doing the same with her Kostia more than once, and Ontari stroking herself to completion at least twice-, but that wasn’t the whole reason Leksa couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. It wasn’t even the main reason, in all honesty. No, the main reason for it was the almost furtive way that Klarke had been behaving all night.
No one who wasn’t familiar with the sky-girl’s mannerisms would be likely to notice it, but Leksa was familiar with them, intimately so. After over a month of living in the same building and being together near-constantly had made sure of that. Which was why Leksa had noticed how Klark seemed a little too focused on the arena at times, how that focus seemed to carry an air of…not falsehood, perhaps, but motive. Klark was trying very, very hard to look casual and unsuspicious, and to Leksa’s eyes that only made the fact that she wasn’t either of those things painfully obvious.
She, Ontari, Kostia, and her advisors were all positive that Klark would slip out sometime tonight to reach the ORACLE and activate it. She was dealing with an onrushing deadline, after all, with no knowledge of how long it would take for the ORACLE to do…whatever it was that the machine would do in order to let her talk to her people on the Ark. Clever and determined as Klark was, she would activate it as soon as possible so that she had time to put a back-up plan into operation if the stabilization of the atmosphere took too long. With the populace being distracted by their celebrations, within and without the palace alike, it would be the easiest time for her to vanish for however long she needed to vanish in order to activate the device. Likewise, with rendezvous -clandestine and otherwise- happening everywhere and anywhere, it wouldn’t be particularly suspicious if she was spotted in an area she wouldn’t normally be found in. It would be easily written off as her looking for privacy, either to escape the celebrations or to have them.
The only real challenge Klark would face would be dealing with Niylah's constant presence. The thrallina was almost never away from her domina's side, especially at night, but even that could be managed easily enough. Wear her out with pleasure, ensure she slept deeply, and then slip away, returning before she could wake. Hardly a complicated plan, and clearly one that Klark was already implementing, given the way she had been using Niylah throughout the day. Maker, even if Niylah did wake up, it wouldn’t be hard for Klark to convince her that it was nothing of note.
"Your eyes keep wandering, Leksa, away from your new sister." Kostia murmured against her ear, breath hot and ticklish as she lay half-draped across her lover’s lap, resting after one of many orgasms. "The people here with us will notice."
"Let them, Kos." Leksa replied, though she reluctantly pulled her gaze away from the object of her attention and, Maker knew it was true, affection. "They already know I favor her, that I'm fond of her."
"Favor, she says! Fond!" Ontari snorted from Leksa's other side, leaning in close to avoid being heard, pressing a kiss to Leksa’s cheek as a sign of affection and a cover for her words both. “The whole city, and beyond, is convinced that Klark graces all of our beds at all hours of the day. Even the palace staff is positive she is one of our lovers, despite the fact that she and Niylah sleep in a separate room. I’m not all that sorry to say it, but none of us have done particularly well hiding our fondness for Klark, nor she for us, and our constant time together does little to help.”
"I'm aware, sister." Leksa sighed, reaching over to squeeze her almost-lover's thigh affectionately. "And I'm not particularly unhappy about it, and I can honestly say that I wasn’t trying very hard to hide our affection for her either. The people's assumption that Klark is already ours will only make the transition smoother when..." She trailed off, eyes drifting back to where Klark was now whispering something into Niylah's ear that made the thrallina blush furiously, though the girl didn’t seem remotely displeased. Quite the contrary, as a matter of fact.
"When she finally knows who she is to us, when we finally tell her everything." Kostia finished for her, following Leksa's gaze. "Though I fear her reaction when she learns we've known all along, about her past and where she is from and who her ancestor is. She's proud and doesn’t seem to be the type to take betrayal of any kind good-naturedly."
Ontari shifted, reaching for her cup of wine, before settling back against Leksa’s side. "She may be angry at first, but she'll understand why we kept it from her. She needed time to find herself here, to grow comfortable with our ways without the pressure of her future. Besides, I think she’ll be quite reasonable about it all. She certainly seemed to appreciate your honesty with her the last time you made a grand reveal about what you knew about her. And she’s a smart girl, if you tell her that you kept it a secret until she was healed, closer to all of us, and was better able to protect herself, she’ll understand it.”
"I hope you're right," Leksa murmured, unable to keep the worry from her voice. "I truly do. Above and beyond our…personal affections for her, Klark turning against us would be disastrous."
A roar went up from the crowd below, drawing their attention back to the arena where Caris had just executed a flawless disarming maneuver against her opponent. The warrior stood triumphant, one foot on her downed opponent's chest, sword raised high as the crowd chanted her name. The final match of the Conclave had reached it’s climax.
"And there it is, finally." Kostia said, smiling widely. "You have a new sister, lover."
Leksa allowed herself a moment of pride, watching as Caris acknowledged the crowd's adoration with an upraised hand, sure that even she was feeling the emotion of the moment. Her eyes flicked back to Clarke, who was clapping slowly but firmly, a genuine but somehow odd smile on her face as she watched the proceedings, her eyes bright but carrying steel. It would only be hours now, she reflected to herself as she rose to her feet to deliver her closing address. Stepping up to the equipment required, she took a deep breath, centering herself to say what needed to be said. To speak the future into the present, even if only a few would understand it in the now.
“Another Conclave is ended, and with it an era. For a long time, Chosen Ontari and I have been the only ones of our kind, carrying the burden and the honor of protecting our people, of guiding them. Of safeguarding the future and doing everything in our power to make it better.” she said, meaning every word, though she could imagine Ontari flinching behind her at the reminder -oblique though it was- of her long-standing efforts to keep Leksa at arm’s length.
But Leksa meant no rebuke, because she knew why Ontari had done it. The girl had told her, after all. She had been as desperate to improve the fates of their people as Leksa was, and sought the throne of Heda to do it. She had been doing everything she could to safeguard and improve the future, separately but no less devoted than Leksa herself. There was no shame in that, and now that they were united, it was a beautiful thing.
“But now…now, we are not alone. Now we have a new sister. Now we are not two, but three, because before us all, witnessed by the Senate and the Ambassadors and the people of the Clans of the Coalition, Caris kom Sangedakru has won her third Conclave and become Chosen. The future has come, and though it will grow brighter from here, though our stories may yet be written, the chapters of the past are finished. Over and done. The world is changing around us, and we will change with it. So let Caris be sworn to our sisterhood. Let her stand beside us as family, an equal in every way that matters and every way that doesn’t.”
She paused again, savoring the moment. The anticipation and fear, the excitement and concern, the hope and the dread.
“The time has come for us to be more, and so more is what we all -each and every single one of us, no matter from where we come or what paths we have walked to get here- will become.”
The stadium, and indeed the city, erupted into cheers, and Leksa basked in the moment. Not in the adulations of the crowd, not in the cheers and claps and stamps and all the myriad sounds of thunderous approval, but in that once-fragile hope that had bloomed from a candle to a bright and comforting hearth. Yes, the future was here, beside her and before her and behind her, sitting on a couch and watching her with radiant eyes of the clearest sky.
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As best as I can tell, it's Jerry and Freaky.
