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“So, my umbral delight, my queen of doom and darkness, when are you gonna start the paperwork to change your name?”
“Excuse me?”
~~~
It should have been a simple decision.
At the very least, it should have been a decision that did not require two concussions, three therapy sessions, an emergency barber appointment, and a broken nose to make.
Unfortunately for all involved, neither Gideon Nav nor Harrowhark Nonagesimus were capable of recognizing the simplicity of the decision at hand and instead defaulted to physical combat to win the day.
~~~
“I am going to remove your spine with your own fingerbones and wear it as a scarf, Nav!”
Harrow’s eyes burned with sheer hatred, fingers twitching with the urge to do violence. Gideon would swear for years to come that she could smell the fury rolling off the shorter girl in waves, a mix of ash, iron, and the green juice the girl had had for lunch. One of the horrible twins flinched back, hiding partway behind Gideon to get out of the way of that terrible glare.
It was… honestly, it was adorable. The passion, the righteous fury, the bloodlust – it all combined into one tiny human that Gideon kind of wanted to pick up and squish into a bear hug.
Camila shoved an elbow hard into Gideon’s ribs, ripping her painfully from her daydreaming. Gideon yelped, giving her best friend an aggrieved glare. Camila met it easily, dark eyes betraying no emotion beyond resigned disappointment. “Seek therapy, Nav.”
Gideon snorted. “You’re just jealous that I get to go home with Harrow and you’re stuck with…” She trailed off as Camila raised an eyebrow at her. Both of them turned to look up at the commentator’s booth.
Coronabeth Tridentarius made the simple announcer’s booth look like the gilded throne room of an emperor of old. Golden hair tumbled around broad shoulders and framed a face that would inspire a thousand poems or launch a thousand warships. Tan skin rippled over strong muscle as she pointed at Silas and his awful nephew, yelling encouragement to try and inspire them to move at a pace faster than what could be charitably described as a ‘crawl’. Light glinted off the golden bracelets ringing both wrists and flashed off the amethysts winking at her ears and her eyebrow, drawing the eye to the wicked smile she wore as she shouted. Something about her just exuded sex, and danger, and wildness, like a goddess made flesh. She turned and caught them looking, sending a smirk and a sinful wink their way as ruby-red lips blew a kiss. Movement on the rink caught her attention and she spun, golden hair curling around her as she moved, yelling obscenities at Marta as the soldier neatly tripped Protiselaus.
Camila returned her gaze to Gideon, that single eyebrow still raised. Gideon abruptly deflated. “Yeah, all right, shut up.” She flung her arms wide, missing the other twin’s head by barely a centimeter and ignoring Abigail’s sudden icy stare from across the rink. “We’ve got a game to win, motherfuckers!”
~~~
Honestly, it was entirely Harrow’s fault. Gideon was completely blameless – a victim of circumstance, as one of Palamedes’ stupidly boring books had phrased it. They had been having a perfectly civil conversation and Harrow had gone berserk! Gideon hadn’t seen her fiancé that angry since she and Dulcinea had replaced all of her clothing with pure white sundresses the week before, and this time Gideon hadn’t even done anything.
Sure, it was possible that she’d forgotten that they hadn’t had the ‘who’s taking whose name’ discussion yet, and maybe she’d been daydreaming about calling Harrow ‘Harrowhark Nav’ for a month or two – ‘Or ten,’ a voice in the back of her mind that she promptly ignored chimed in – but really, it wasn’t like she could reasonably be asked to take Harrow’s monster of a last name.
‘Gideon Nonagesimus’ sounded like the villain in a children’s movie, for god’s sake! Harrow hadn’t even liked her parents!
Of course, bringing this up only served to make Harrow angrier. Words were exchanged on both sides, skeletons were raised and smashed back down, and the current challenge was born.
It was genius, really. Gideon wasn’t sure if she’d ever had a better idea, and she’d once used one of Harrow’s skeletons like a snowboard with arms.
~~~
Palamedes pushed his glasses up his nose, sandy hair flopping into his eyes. “All right, does everyone know why we’re here today?”
Gideon glanced around the group. Magnus was fussing over Abigail, adjusting and readjusting the shawl over her shoulders as she rolled her eyes good naturedly. Naberius was preening, shooting glances at Corona and pouting when she didn’t spare him a glance, locked in a bitter thumb war with Camila. Gideon could tell at a glance that Camila was letting her win.
The rest of the group was scattered around the concession area, eating nachos and complaining about their rented skates. The smell of terrible nacho cheese was everywhere and, honestly? It was making Gideon kind of nauseous.
Colum Asht looked up from his third hot dog, squinting slightly at Palamedes. “We’re here to finally prove that my uncle and I are the superior bowlers.” The ‘you idiot’ was left unsaid, but it was heavily implied.
Palamedes frowned, sighed, opened his mouth to say something, closed it abruptly with a snap, and took his glasses off to clean them. Once they were clean enough that Gideon could only imagine that somewhere in the world a roomba was crying with inadequacy, he put them back on and sighed even harder than before. “Colum, we’re not even at a bowling alley.”
Colum looked around, taking in the polished wooden rink and the children roller skating in circles and the arcade machines pinging merrily in the background. He blinked slowly. “We’re not?”
Every single person within hearing distance sighed.
~~~
Once Colum had been convinced that, no, they were not at a bowling alley and, no, they weren’t planning on relocating to a bowling alley, Palamedes gathered the entire sorry group into a loose huddle.
“All right, since it has become apparent that there are at least a few of you who lack even the basics of listening comprehension, allow me to walk everyone involved in this through the basics.” He paused, and glared at Colum. “Again.”
Dulcinea interrupted him smoothly from the cushioned recliner she had somehow managed to acquire. “Allow me, darling, I think you’ve done quite enough today as it is.” True to form, the words managed to be thoroughly scathing without losing the undertones of gentle politeness. Palamedes sputtered but didn’t manage to form a response, a bright blush rising from under the neck of his button-down. A smirk flashed briefly across Dulcinea’s lips before being replaced by a bright smile.
Clapping her hands, Dulcinea radiated honest excitement that Gideon could see drawing in everyone. Even Silas seemed to perk up a bit, even if he didn’t look up from his textbook. “All right everyone! The story so far-” Harrow sighed in exasperation, but Dulcinea barreled on. “Dear Gideon stuck her foot in her mouth, for what I believe is the seventeenth time this week. Lovely Harrow, being the reasonable and not at all excessive woman that we all know and love, put her foot down and chose to fight for her agency. We’re here for an epic duel, a contest that will decide the very future of-” She broke into a fit off harsh coughs, slumping sideways as her eyes teared up.
Camila rolled her eyes and picked up the narrative. “Nav was a moron, Nonagesimus took offence, now we’re all here on a Saturday when we could be doing something productive with our time to play roller derby and decide who’s taking whose name when they get married.” She paused, and made eye contact with Gideon. “Like idiots.”
Gideon shot finger guns at her.
~~~
Looking back, the chaos really was inevitable. Between the horrible twins, Corona’s blatantly incorrect refereeing, the overall lack of knowledge of how to play roller derby, and, Ianthe’s, well… Ianthe, there really was no way this was ever going to go well. But, on the bright side, this was awesome.
The horrible twins whooped behind her, drowning out the sound of a body crashing to the floor and Palamedes yelling at them about ‘proper derby etiquette’ or some other boring nerd shit. Spinning on her skates, Gideon flashed them a thumbs up as they split up to swerve around either side of Naberius as he skidded across the polished wood floor on his knees, windmilling his arms and cursing like a sailor.
Magnus, bent nearly in two over the commentator’s booth, yelled out, “Good job, Isaac! Excellent clothesline, Jeannemary. You could call it… team cokneesion. Get it, Tern? Eh?”
(“Noooooooo, Maaaaaagnus. Magnus don’t mention us. You’re embarrassing us Maaaaaagnus.”)
Blood flew past Gideon’s arm, spiraling forward at a frightening speed before splattering on the wall of the rink. She would deny to her grave and beyond that the noise she made was a shriek, nearly toppling over herself as she twisted back around as fast as possible. Ianthe winked at her, flicking another lance of blood out from her outstretched finger. “Gotta stay focused, baby girl.”
“Hey!” Gideon spluttered briefly, shock and indignation warring for primacy. “What did we say about necromancy in the rink?”
Ianthe tilted her head, somehow managing to dodge a massive elbow from Protiselaus at top speed without even looking. “It’s an excellent way to cream you morons?”
A shout from the commentator’s booth interrupted their weird conversation. “Ooh, yikes, Octakiseron isn’t even pretending to be a competent human being with two working legs and fucking eats dirt. Get good, loser.”
Both Gideon and Ianthe paused to stare at the booth. “Why did we let my sister be the commentator again?”
Shrugging wordlessly, Gideon kicked Ianthe’s left skate out from under her and accelerated away as the girl crashed into Marta in a tangle of flailing limbs and yelling.
~~~
It turned out that skating at high speeds for extended periods of time while attempting to both inflict and avoid grievous bodily injury was actually pretty exhausting. Gideon was fairly sure she was about ten seconds from passing out, actually. Sweat was dripping off her and while she knew she made it sexy, it felt kind of gross.
Abigail caught her eye from her seat off to the side of the rink and waved her over. Groaning, Gideon kicked herself back into gear and skated painfully to the other woman.
She was greeted by a cold, dripping water bottle and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that her lizard brain took over for a minute. She ripped the cap off and chugged half of it in one go, paused to shriek at the brain freeze spiking into her skull, then chugged most of the rest of it in one long pull. The last bit was splashed into her own face, sending a shock of cold through her system and clearing some of the exhausted fog from her brain. Abigail observed all of this with the placid calm that came from fostering teenagers as horrible as Isaac and Jeannemary without snapping and murdering them both with a jellyfish made of their own bones.
Smiling sheepishly, Gideon handed Abigail the empty bottle to recycle. “Thanks. Didn’t realize quite how much effort I was going to have to put into this.”
Abigail patted her hand and gave her a granola bar. “Just remember, dear.” Gideon leaned closer, always happy to be on the receiving end of Abigail’s mothering.
“The back of the knee is one of the most vulnerable points on the human body, and it just so happens to be out of Magnus’ sightline if you make sure you keep the central pillar between you.” She smiled brightly. “Have fun!”
~~~
By some miracle of modern necromancy, Gideon managed to maneuver herself so she was skating next to Harrow without losing a limb. “Hello, my purgatorial empress! Are you enjoying the game?”
Harrow snapped her head to glare into Gideon’s soul. “I am going to destroy you, Gideon Nav. I am going to crush you beneath my heel and when you’re nothing more than a silent corpse I will drag your soul back from hell just to obliterate you from history.”
Gideon stared openmouthed. “That’s… that’s so hot.”
The only response she received was a disgusted snort from her fiancé. Harrow kept glaring at her as they skated, dodging Palamedes as he lectured one of the horrible teens about excessive violence and sportsmanship and other boring nerd shit without even looking at him.
There was a crash from behind them, followed closely by the sound of Palamedes yelling and Corona cackling. Neither woman turned to look, even as Isaac sprinted past them giggling hysterically, followed closely by a similarly giggling Jeannemary.
“What a beautiful elbow strike from Jeannemary! Great solidarity, kids. And what a… valiant recovery effort from Palamedes. I… think your lip is bleeding, you should get Abigail to look at that.”
(“Noooooooo, Magnus, don’t mention us Maaaaaagnus.”)
“Eat. Shit. Nerd. Ten points to the teenagers!”
Harrow sneered at Gideon. “By the time this is over, the world will forget that Gideon Nav ever existed to begin with.”
“So hot.”
“Shut up, Griddle!”
~~~
If the recliner Dulcinea had managed to set up rinkside had been impressive, the unending stream of piña coladas she was making her way through was worthy of worship. They were even in a hollowed out pineapple, for fuck’s sake.
Gideon was in awe.
As she skated past Dulcinea’s sweet set-up, the woman called out to her, “I hate to see you leave, darling, but I love to watch you go.”
A wordless shriek rang out from somewhere behind her. Dulcinea looked supremely unruffled. “Oh don’t be jealous, Harrow dear, you know I’m always delighted to witness you doing violence to some unworthy male person, it’s just that Gideon is so delicious and she’s right here. Can you really blame me?”
The only answer she received was a bone flying at her head at high speed.
Silas, skating at a snail’s pace next to Colum, snorted inelegantly. “Don’t bother with the frigid witch. You know she only cares about her heretic skeletons.”
Gideon rolled her eyes. “Fuck off, Octakiseron, I don’t even know why we invited you.”
He glared at her. “Better I be here to keep watch than let you-”
He was interrupted by a tripwire of crystallized blood springing into existence directly in front of his feet, sending him crashing down to earth with an audible snap as his face made contact with the floor.
“Why do you suck so bad, Octakiseron? Learn to walk, you prissy dicknugget!” Corona’s voice was filled with unadulterated glee, and even Palamedes looked the other way as he skated past.
Gideon looked up at Dulcinea. She shrugged, blood dripping from one pink-painted nail. “Oops.”
~~~
Marta and Judith were neck and neck, jostling each other with the air of people who knew they were fighting for an unjust cause but whose honor rested on the outcome. They had used a particularly vicious game of rock paper scissors to decide who would get to be on Harrow’s team, and though Marta had won, her enthusiasm had waned significantly upon witnessing Harrow’s frothing rage at life itself.
Camila, crouched low and skating at a frankly reckless speed, shot past them on the other side, ramming her shoulder into Judith as she passed and sending the shorter woman spinning helplessly into the side of the rink.
Gideon winced at the crunch the soldier made when she impacted the wall, then again at the wordless shriek of joy that came from the commentator’s booth.
Camila smirked back at her. “Looks like you’re in a bit of a jam, Judy.” Judith didn’t answer, too busy moaning weakly to form words. The loud guffaw from Magnus was audible to the entire rink, though, as were the answering grumbles from the horrible teens.
“That was uncalled for, Camila!” Marta had paused to check on Judith and was shouting at Camila’s back. She was answered solely by the other woman’s middle finger.
Gideon sighed. “I love that woman.”
~~~
“Does, uh… Does anyone actually know how to play roller derby?”
~~~
An arm snaked around her waist suddenly, startling Gideon so badly she nearly tripped over her own skates. “What- Harrow?” A low chuckle in her ear answered that question. “What the fuck, Ianthe, are you trying to kill me?” She ducked away from the other woman’s arm, trying to get her heart rate under control.
Ianthe pouted extravagantly at her, twirling her pin-straight hair in a way that was blatantly making fun of Corona. “Aw, G-babe, you’re not happy to see me?”
Gideon had no idea how she managed to look coquettish while skating in a giant circle and bleeding from multiple places on her face, but it frightened her quite a bit more than she felt it should.
The pout intensified somehow. “You know, it’s honestly a shame that we didn’t decide on hockey to settle this. We could have saved money on stick rentals and used Hark instead.”
Gideon opened her mouth to reply with absolutely no idea what she was going to say. Years of forced socialization and pure animal instinct screamed at her that conversations take two, Nav and why are you so incapable of forming a single sentence, you useless excuse for a ginger demon and that pretty mouth has one talent and it isn’t talking, Griddle and it was all kind of overwhelming. “I-”
A blur of black cut off whatever idiocy was about to leave her lips. Harrow, angular face contorted with pure undiluted hatred, rammed her shoulder directly into Ianthe’s midsection in a beautiful, textbook-perfect football tackle.
Honestly, just watching it made Gideon kind of wet, but that was no one’s business but hers. And maybe Harrow’s, once the blood rage died down.
Ianthe wheezed and folded over as best she could with Harrow in the way. Harrow disengaged very abruptly, pulling back with an athletic precision Gideon had never even dreamed she had and sending Ianthe skidding backwards – directly into the path of a skeleton that had poofed into existence in the very recent past.
Gideon cringed. Ianthe skidded, the skeleton pulled a leg back, and then Ianthe was airborne, the skeleton’s foot embedded between her legs in a gorgeous cunt punt that Gideon admired very abstractly in the three percent of her brain that wasn’t occupied with praying with a newfound religious fervor.
Harrow turned to her, all traces of rage gone from her face and only her usual blankness remaining. “If I see her hand on you one more time, Griddle-” Gideon was wrong, she was so wrong, the rage was back, oh god, “-I will cut it off, and I will use the bones to fashion the strap-on you’ve been so ardent to acquire, and then I will make her eat it.” Her voice lowered ominously as she spoke until it was a nearly incomprehensible hiss.
Ianthe whimpered from where she was crumpled in the stands.
“Get fucked, Ianthe, I’ve wanted to do that since we were four!”
They decided that it was best to stop while they were ahead, after that.
~~~
Gideon approached Harrow tentatively in their living room, several days after the roller derby debacle. “So, my reverent mistress of gloom and also spite, I’ve been thinking.”
Harrow sighed, thin shoulders rounding into her body and making her look even smaller than normal. “I know, Griddle, I-” She paused, looking disgusted. “I took it too far with the third sl-” Gideon raised an eyebrow at her and Harrow sighed again. “With Ianthe. I took it too far, all right?”
Running her hands down Harrow’s arms gently, Gideon intertwined their fingers. “I mean, yeah, you did, but that’s not what I was gonna say. It was kinda hot, actually. Violent Harrow really does it for me.” She trailed off for a moment.
“Griddle.”
“Right, sorry.” She smiled down at Harrow, squeezing her hands. “I was thinking, and like… What if we were being stupid about this whole name thing?”
Harrow stiffened, trying to take her hands back. Gideon didn’t let her, of course, and Harrow’s abysmal upper body strength had absolutely no chance of winning. “Would you shut up and let me talk?” Harrow glared up at her, but stopped fighting her. For the moment.
Gideon kissed the back of one of Harrow’s hands. “Thank you. Like I was saying, I think we’re thinking about this wrong. Actually, I’m not sure why we’re thinking about this at all.” Harrow blinked at her. “Why are we worrying about changing our names? You like your name, I like my name, neither one of us has any interest in having a different last name. I love you, Harrow, and I want to marry you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. Not taking your last name won’t change that, and you not taking mine won’t mean that you don’t feel the exact same fucking way about me. We’re not straight, babe, why are we acting like we are?”
Up to this point in her life, Gideon had only seen Harrowhark Nonagesimus speechless three times. Once, when Gideon had decided she wanted them to be best friends in kindergarten and had chucked a brick at the other girl’s skull. Twice, when Harrow turned sixteen and Gideon kissed her for the first time, Harrow clutching at the back of her letterman and staring up at her like she could find God in her eyes. Thrice, when Gideon presented her with her honorable discharge papers and a ring at age twenty-six, vowing to love the other girl for the rest of their lives and making the both of them cry like pussies in front of all their friends.
Harrow was speechless now.
Gideon squinted at her. “Aw, babe, are you crying? That’s so lame.”
“Shut up and kiss me, you moron.”
The moron shut up and kissed her.