The hangar is half-dimmed, now. Safety lights in the ceiling, steady red and yellow, are too-regular constellations. The spotlights on Jade’s idol spill gold over her, and her darkness drinks it all in, makes her a deepness in the center of the vast hangar. Rings of lights, concentric, are almost-candles set into the floor. Hybrasil respects the night, and her children are comfortable in the dark; the 24/7 bonfire-cities of the Terenians are eyesores, attempts to make an eternal day for eyes too weak for shadows.

Dolly walks carefully from shadow to shadow, imagining the breath of cool night air on her skin. The hangar never truly sleeps, but the cult-crew is on half-strength, finishing tasks and standing vigil as Smokeless Jade Fires gathers her strength for her next challenge. So, for a little bit, she exists in the shadows, half-alone but not private, making her way to the altar.

It’s a temporary structure, half shrine, half toolshed, open on three sides. A 3D sculpt of Smokeless Jade Fires’ idol stands before the altar, doll-sized, and around it are the few offerings she’s received. The two stop to look over the contrast between what the Banders brought and what the crew has been leaving, and it’s Dolly who squirms a little bit, trying to make herself smaller despite being alone.

[i]Artwork made in her image, drawn from the imagination of the worshippers, sacred acts of creation.[/i] Fanart, mailed in or made by the crew themselves. There’s more at the proper shrine on Hybrasil. It’s a reminder that nobody else gets to [i]see[/i] Jade like she does. Some of it looks like her descriptions of the goddess, but others are imaginative— here she’s a jet-black pantheress, here she’s a half-bird circling around her idol, and here she’s a bigger, glowing-eyed Dolly. Here she’s gorging herself on offered dumplings, gravid; here she’s stepping on someone who might be Angela. [i]Fine craftsmanship of the modern age, offered up by those who need a goddess most.[/i] Little twist-charm bracelets. She’d worn one in one of her first interviews about being chosen by the goddess, because she hadn’t been thinking, because she’d tried too hard to be normal, because she’d been through so many costume changes already. And even kittens can make them, and so kittens kept sending them, and kittens who pretended they were grown (like Dolly) kept sending them, too, little rounded cubes gleaming in the low light, reminders of who they represent. [i]Lights for the dead to follow, for spirits to navigate by, and for goddesses to bask beside.[/i] Jade loves the candles; she takes several steps from Dolly’s side, takes a seat by several heavy-bottomed with shed wax, rests her head next to them. She looks small like this, but— that’s not the right way to put it. Like small makes her lesser instead of more…r.

Candles and incense are magic, okay? They just are. Old magic stuff. You’re supposed to be able to do magic with them. Keep the incense sticks by your family shrine lit and you’re asking your ancestors to keep visiting. Walk by candlelight outside a city and you might meet monsters, spirits, hunt-goddesses. And Jade is, she’s [i]right,[/i] in the candlelight, one eye on the flickering flame, one hand on her knee, wreathed in incense-smoke, magic, special, a ghost-wife-spirit-princess-heroine, in impractical archaic armor turned bodysuit, and Dolly waits until Jade seems to notice her again and motions at the tribute from the Banders, just staring, just swooning, just trying to remember forever and ever what Jade looks like, like this, right here. She’s so pretty. She’s more than pretty. She’s numinous. She makes the world-magic so close to the real that it bleeds through.

The smell of meat; something was ritually burned here and then eaten by the crew. [i]Nine Forests was given permission. Dolly was busy being stuffed already.[/i] There’s a bolt of cloth, one which unrolls put into her hands; she kneads, gets a sense for the feeling, the quality of the fabric, and Jade shivers and licks her lips. [i]It’s simple enough to spin it into existence here, to run the maroon through her own fingers. Decadent sense-feedback. When she pulls it taut, Dolly looks away and tries to seem like she’s being so very casual. As if her Bride could resist temptation.[/i]

Finally, she lifts the necklace of lapis lazuli. [i]The sun-choked sea. Success and prosperity; when crushed, sacred pigments, historically reserved for use by priestesses only. She drinks in the sight through Dolly’s eyes, and for a moment, feels a twinge of guilt. Could those pirates have been so bad if they came to bring her this?[/i] It’s so beautiful. The kind of thing that would have made her feel faintly ridiculous before, well. Before all of this. Before Jade chose her.

Imagine wearing it. [i]Imagine her wearing it.[/i] Imagine aliens and huntresses looking at this on her chest. [i]Imagine Dolly in blue and gold, marbled, flecked, the bodysuit clinging to her body, the light catching on the stones.[/i] Imagine—

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” [i]Dolly clutches the necklace to her chest instead of reaching for a weapon. She turns, but Jade already knows who it is.[/i] “Sure they came from a bunch of ship-jacking corsairs, but stones like those, mmm, makes me think about spitting on my hands and swearing to Mu Ysha.”

It’s just Sixes. Dolly relaxes, tries to look normal, nods, continues to look so normal as the rangy electrician stretches. [i]Dolly doesn’t notice the curl of her lip. She underestimates the cunning of Six Stones.[/i] “What do you think about it~?”

Dolly shrugs. Too much shrug. Her noncommittal noise is unbelievable. There’s an infinity of things that she could say about this. And Sixes is going to figure that out.

“No, no, go ahead, share what you really think, Seven Quetzal! I’d love to know~!” She knows. There’s no way she doesn’t know. But if she somehow doesn’t know? Then it would be mortifying to let her know. Right?

Sixes flops next to Dolly, and slowly looks up to meet Dolly’s gaze, but she won’t find it, because Dolly is pretending to stare so very, very hard the necklace. It’s one thing. It’s one thing, okay, to [i]know[/i] you’re not really naked. It’s another to have your fur and your eyes tell you that Sixes can see everything, particularly the golden hoops with the stones dangling from them that sway every time she shifts her weight, the only thing she’s still wearing.

“Mmmn,” Dolly whim— Dolly happens to hum, for no reason whatever. It’s her secret. Sixes doesn’t really know. Right? Jade has her tell them about “games,” but she’s really vague and also emphasizes how much trouble they’ll be in if they spread stories about “strange things.”

[i]Jade strokes Dolly’s cheek, slowly, torturously, grinning. “Hmm, why don’t you tell her what you think, my Bride? Is something wrong?” Sixes is watching every huff, just a little too strong, as if drawn in and pushed out with effort. Dolly’s body is prickling with mortified excitement, the forbidden joy of being in peril.

Then Sixes leans in, and Dolly clenches and bites down and her knees wobble after how much she’d put them through, and Jade reaches around to tug oh-so-playfully.[/i]

“Are you feeling all right, Bride of the Goddess?” Dolly nods, trying not to implode in on herself. She [i]can’t[/i] rub her cheeks. Don’t do it! “I apologize if I’ve offended~”

Shake shake! [i]Jingle jingle![/i] Huff huff!

“Mmhm, I [i]see,[/i]” Sixes drawls. “Well. May Smokeless Jade Fires bring your voice back from wherever it’s wandered off to, seeing as it’s hers, too.”

[i]And that’s when Jade pulls the maroon cloth, with the yellow diamonds, over her Dolly’s face, and knots it impossibly snug behind her head, seals this last layer with a kiss, and isn’t it such a coincidence that it keeps her from looking away from Sixes, the cloth brushing up against her lower lashes?[/i]

“Put it a good word for me, won’t you? When you can.”

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[i]Sixes saunters out, with one more glance back that’s half mischief, half… unclear. Dolly would know better. Jealousy? Hope? Maybe she wishes she was Dolly. Maybe she’s just satisfied in playing her part. Ask Dolly later.

“Bride,” Jade purrs, running her fingers over Dolly’s hair. “Keep your thighs closed. We’re not passing you around the engineers yet.” Dolly buries her face in her hands and lets out the tiniest, happiest squeak as she tries to hide inside that glorious lapis lazuli.

Hmm. That should stay here, actually. She’ll have Dolly wear it after the match, but wearing it immediately after the Banders visited? She’s going to have to have Dolly escorted back to her rooms already; no sense in making her any more of a target tonight. Not when she’s sinking right back into the bliss that devoured her all afternoon long.

Speaking of which…

“You should offer me prayers before we leave, Dolly. Set a good example.” Jade offers guidance, and Dolly is all too happy to tumble to her knees before the altar. “Make sure I can hear you,” she adds, her tail wrapping loosely around Dolly’s neck, the tip wagging back and forth over Dolly’s lips.

Her Dolly. All hers. See, Dolly? See how treasured you are? How safe you are? You don’t need to be scared of anything, your Jade is here. And she won’t let anything happen to you that she doesn’t control.[/i]