Chapter Text
Tally had never had trouble sleeping.
Growing up on the compound, her life was – generally – very peaceful. That wasn’t to say a matrifocal society was without any conflict, but Tally had never personally been kept up at night by the drama between the Talisa Thornhilland Meg Quickson over who was selling better produce at their local markets or which one of them was using better agricultural seeds for their crops.
The biggest stress she’d faced there was with her mother over choosing to answer the call. And even then, Tally had managed to sleep at night because she’d been at peace with her decision.
Ever since she’d stopped being a biddy, though, peaceful sleep had eluded her in some way or other.
“I didn’t know how good I had it,” she lamented to herself, just remembering at the last second to keep her voice down and not wake up Raelle or Abigail, as they’d suffered from her waking up far too much already.
She rucked up the soft, thin blanket and rolled onto her side, huffing out a breath as she shut her eyes and tried to fall back asleep. Even though, she knew from the last several weeks that it was a fruitless attempt. That even if she did manage to sleep more, it would be fitful at best.
The first four weeks or so after she’d stopped being a biddy, the dreams had focused primarily on Alder’s most harrowing war trials. Her biggest scares, worst injuries, most complicated choices.
Tally had wound up in the infirmary multiple times – once with burns from some giant caterpillar-worm-things, once with a stab wound that, thankfully, had just narrowly missed her kidney, and once because of a broken arm and dislocated shoulder combo, that had happened when she’d twisted violently out of her top bunk to avoid the knife being thrown at her in her/Alder’s dream/memory.
Those dreams had mostly faded, though. Sometimes, she would still wake with bruises or jump-scares… it wasn’t very restful, but there hadn’t been serious injuries in over a month, now.
She hadn’t expected that she would miss those dreams in some ways.
The thing now was that – it was all – so confusing? Alder had said it would fade, that the connection would get less intense.
Tally supposed that was true. She wasn’t intently feeling every strong feeling Alder had, anymore. Which – she didn’t think she missed that for the most part. It was nice to know that the feelings she felt were now all her own.
And it was definitely nice to know that there was no way Alder was feeling her feelings.
But she did still feel echoes of Alder. Not her thoughts and not even her big feelings, not really.
Just small things. Moments. Where Tally felt a tug in her chest or a light twist in her stomach or maybe the slightest tingle at the base of her spine, and she realized – Alder.
And that… well, that was kind of comforting, at this point. She’d settled into it.
The dreams, though. Now that she wasn’t having these big, violent explosions of dreams, she mostly got snippets and flashes. Emotions snapping through her, words being spoken to her, people’s faces in front of her – smiling or screaming or getting orders from her – and it was difficult.
And she’d never expected that it would be more difficult than the physically daunting dreams.
Because these ones interspersed with Tally’s own dreams, her own memories. The mental gymnastics it took – on a good day – to sort out and categorize what was happening in her own subconscious was completely and utterly exhausting.
Exhausting, disorienting, confusing, depleting. The list had started to build in the last few weeks in particular.
She’d tried to go to sleep when Abigail and Raelle had flipped the lights off two hours ago, after a long day of primarily hand-to-hand training exercises. And she’d nodded off…
Only to be thrown into snapshots of life, one after another. Some her own, some… actual dreams? She thought? Maybe? And some distinctly Alder’s memories. And then they’d done Tally’s least favorite thing; they’d started to morph.
The sounds, feelings, images, all blending together until Tally awoke from it, dazed and alarmed and tired. So, so tired.
Tonight had been one of the worst, and the images skated through her mind on a loop as she attempted to doze. Or really dozed? Sometimes, alarmingly, in the last week or so, she wasn’t quite sure.
She’d been running, through the fields of the compound, in her own childhood. Glory had been behind her, trying to keep up, while Tally had laughed. She’d reached behind her to take Glory’s hand in hers, and felt the summer solstice sun warm on her face, everything was good.
And then the sun was gone.
The moon hung high and foreboding in the sky, a full one, and it was cold, with Tally’s breath shivering out of her, visible in the night air. So cold, there was snow on the ground. And she was no longer wearing the sustainable shoes her mother insisted she wear in the fields during crop season and the pretty yellow dress her mother had bought her as she’d told Tally the solstice was her holiday, because the sun shined just as bright as Tally’s smile and now her dress matched.
Instead, she was barefoot and the balls, heels, and toes of her feet ached wherever they weren’t already numb, and she thought they might be bleeding as she ran, the material of her nightgown a denser, more worn fabric that felt like it was weighing her down, inhibiting her from running as fast as she could.
And Glory was no longer behind her, but instead, she clasped a different hand. She couldn’t laugh, anymore, she wasn’t sure she’d ever laugh again, swamped with the terror and anguish crushing her chest.
“Come, Abigail, we must go faster. We cannot stop.”
She wasn’t speaking English, she didn’t even think this was the Mothertongue; they hadn’t studied it enough for Tally to be so smooth in full sentences yet. But she could feel the words on her own lips, regardless of what this language was.
“I can’t,” came the desolate, crying, breathless voice spoke the same language that Tally didn’t know but Alder must speak. The torment in her voice cracked something deep in Tally’s – Alder’s – chest, right in her already fractured heart. The girl’s hand that she held so desperately clutched back so tight, her steps slowing. “Sarah, I can’t.”
And she felt herself stop moving, able but unwilling to go any further without the girl behind her. She couldn’t leave her. She wouldn’t leave her; she would die here, trying to protect her before she left.
In her mind’s eye, she could see Alder’s mother and the terrified look on her face, as she yelled for them to run, flames already burning up the wooden wall behind her, as her father’s muted screams burned through her. And it was Alder’s mother, she could see it, but she also felt it. The aching loss like she was her own, burning through her whole body.
That face morphed, then, into Tally’s actual own mother, as if she was standing in the flames, and the pain inside of her doubled. Then the face shifted back and then back again, and then –
Tally jerked awake again from the same dream that had plagued her the first time she’d tried to rest, tonight. She was gasping for air, and could feel the tears streaming over her cheeks, and she felt more drained now than she had when she’d gone to sleep in the first place.
It was surreal. It was maddening and frustrating. It was emotionally and mentally gruelling, and she slammed both of her fists into her bed, before she rolled out from under her blanket, and hopped out of bed.
That dream – that had been the worst of them, yet.
What in the world did Alder mean that this would all get easier? Because it wasn’t. And Tally… she deserved to know. She deserved answers. She did.
Setting her jaw, she barely remembered to slip on shoes before shutting their door behind her, and storming down the hall, still dazed and exhausted and frustrated and confused. And she followed that feeling right out of her dorm, not even pausing as the shock of the chill early-November air in the middle of the night hit her.
She’d tried physically exhausting herself. Last week, she’d stayed up an extra two hours, running through all of their hand-to-hand drills, before running two miles. She couldn’t have moved more if she’d tried.
And she still hadn’t gotten more than consecutive three hours of sleep. She was in her second year of War College; her body was exhausted every night.
It was her mind that was draining her. It was – she had no idea how to quantify what she was seeing or who these people were or the timeline of events, and it made her feel jumbled, all of the time.
Because, the thing was, it wasn’t really her mind, was it? She felt like she was doing a juggling act every night, between her life and Alder’s, and –
She stopped short when she reached Alder’s office door, her heart still pounding in her chest. From her dream – or Alder’s memory? – and the emotions clouding her judgement and…
Wait.
Tally frowned. Was this a dream? That had happened before, now, too. When she was so utterly depleted, her dream had taken on this life-like haze.
Goddess, she was exhausted, and her subconscious or conscious or whatever was in control right now led her here, and she didn’t even care because she needed to know.
Taking in a deep breath, she pounded on Alder’s door. Then – screw it? Maybe it was a dream! She opened it without waiting.
“Has this happened, before? I just – I have to know. Tell me the truth. Please. You said that becoming un-biddied was so rare, but did this happen?” She gestured to her head vaguely, before coming to a complete stop.
And then stared. Unblinking, as those whirling thoughts in her head slowed just a bit, clarity edging into her slightly exhaustion-induced hysteria.
Because… Alder was leaning back in her chair, the fire roaring warmly behind her, with a glass of whiskey delicately yet firmly balanced in her fingertips, and –
“Your hair is down,” she could hear the wonder echo faintly through her own words.
She’d never seen Alder’s hair down. Not even in her brief stint as a biddy.
Alder arched an eyebrow at her before placing her glass on the desk, leaning forward so she was sitting with her typical military-perfect posture. “It often is, both when it’s the middle of the night and when no one has been invited into my office.”
Tally blushed. “I mean – I – yeah.” She cleared her throat, forcing herself to stand at attention with her hands clasped behind her back to stop herself from fidgeting. “I’m sorry, General. I didn’t really mean to…”
“You mean, you didn’t mean to barge into my office, uninvited and unprompted, at nearly two o’clock in the morning, wearing what appears to be your pajamas with combat boots?” Alder’s voice was cool and unreadable, as she slowly ran her eyes from the top of Tally’s head, right down her body, to said combat boots, and back, before arching a questioning eyebrow at her.
And Tally’s stomach flip-flopped at the look, because – yeah, she definitely hadn’t thought this through at all. Because she was still in her sleep shorts and gray t-shirt that had been worn a bit thin, her hair most definitely tousled from her tossing and turning.
She was certainly not in any shape that someone should be seeking an audience with the General of the Army.
Let alone the fact that Alder was still in uniform, this late. Hair down, uniform unbuttoned, though, which… Tally swallowed thickly.
That feeling, the one of helplessness and not knowing just what was real or not real – the lines of her reality and Alder’s memories and her own dreams all blurring – edged through her again, just a bit.
Because her being in Alder’s office this late, when Alder wasn’t in her immaculately done-up uniform…
She was certain her distress was written all over her blushing face, as it was so strong in her chest. “I don’t even know for sure if this is a dream or not,” she admitted, her voice quiet.
Alder’s face – previously fairly unreadable, though Tally had gotten better at reading her ever since she’d been a biddy, especially given their connection, however limited – shifted, softening a bit, into a look of concern. “You are most certainly awake, Craven. Are you still not sleeping? Have you incurred any injuries since the last? No one has told me anything of you in the infirmary.”
That comment knocked into Tally, lodging right into the forefront of her mind. “You check to see if I’m in the infirmary?”
Alder cleared her throat. “I’ve asked to be notified, yes. It seems the wise thing to do when the cause is my own doing.”
“Oh. Well, that’s – I mean.” Tally bit her lip against the slight smile that threatened, as she shook her head. “No, I’m not experiencing any injuries. Not really. Just bruises or little minor things.”
Alder’s watchful gaze remained on her, as if she could see everything Tally thought or felt – at least, that’s how intense it seemed, anyway – as she nodded.
Tense, Tally twisted her fingers into the hem of her shirt behind her back, clearing her throat. “Am I going to be in any sort of trouble for coming in here? Because if I am, could you tell me now? Please?”
“I’ve had people demoted, demerited, and one time, court-martialled for less,” Alder tapped her long fingers on her glass thoughtfully as she spoke. Before there was just the slightest hint of a lightness on her face that told Tally she wasn’t actually threatening her with those things, and the relief that washed through Tally’s body was unreal. “However, you aren’t exactly any other person on this base. And I understand that you’re experiencing something very unique that is,” she lifted her eyebrows, carefully looking over Tally’s face, then drawing down her body again. “Clearly troubling you.”
And even though she knew Alder was definitely only making a point regarding the state of Tally’s dress, she felt her stomach squirm a bit at the look, again.
“Cadet Craven, sit. Please.” Alder gestured at one of the chairs opposite her desk, and she gratefully sunk into one, because without the fire that had carried her here, her legs felt far more Jell-O-like. “Can you elaborate on what exactly you were talking about when you entered?”
Tally clasped her hands over her knees, tightly, before she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment to gather herself. “When I stopped being a biddy, you said it was a very rare experience. How… rare?”
A thoughtful look moved over Alder’s face. “Very. Only once, before you. Forty years ago… Grace was not prepared, in spite of having had the biddy preparation.”
Grace… Tally frowned. She could swear she could picture her, somewhere in her mind’s eye, from a memory that wasn’t quite hers, that wasn’t even quite clear. From a memory that would keep her up at night, with her mind trying to figure out just who she was.
“What happened to Grace?” She had to know. How had someone else gotten through this?
Alder intertwined her fingers, resting them on her desk. Looking for all the world like she was contemplating exactly how much she was willing to tell Tally. She braced herself for it, for the non-answers that Alder was so good at.
But then, she sighed, softly, before, “It was taking a detrimental toll on her mental health, to the point that it was affecting others. The other biddies. Myself. She was scattered and miserable, unsettled, disoriented And it became very clear that it was not a temporary adjustment period; that she was not going to be able to cope.”
Tally’s mouth fell open in surprise. Then she forced it closed, but it was just – she honestly hadn’t expected Alder to be so forthcoming about the details. Another embarrassed feeling clawed at her, only moments later, and, “I – I have to ask. Again. But, I wasn’t – was I like that? I know I wasn’t prepared, but I tried–”
“Craven, no,” Alder’s voice was gentle with her in that moment in a way it hadn’t been since those few days when they’d been connected. After Tally had made her sacrifice that didn’t necessarily feel like a sacrifice, even now. “I told you then – it wasn’t because you weren’t good enough.”
Tally nodded outwardly even as she couldn’t quite believe it, gaze falling to her lap.
“Craven,” Alder’s voice was firm enough to make Tally look up at her, but not so much that it made Tally get that distinct feeling of trouble. “You did exceptionally well in your days as my biddy, even without any preparation. Singularly well, in fact, I…” She pursed her lips, seeming to bite back whatever may have come out, only to say, “You did very well.”
Tally latched onto it, though. “In fact, you…?”
Alder reached down and picked up her whiskey, sipping again, as she shook her head. “You may still be experiencing side effects or questioning yourself, but it will get easier. It must; everything on this earth is temporary.”
“Except you,” the words slipped out before she could stop them, an unfortunate connection of Tally’s direct link of brain-to-mouth lack of filter.
Alder bit out a sharp laugh, her eyes crinkling with it in a way Tally wasn’t sure she’d ever seen. “Except for me.”
That laugh and the certainty in her it will get easier soothed a part of Tally, though. She wouldn’t have changed her mind about taking back the biddy link, once learning that Rae and Abi were still alive, even knowing that this could be the result. She’d have to live with being potentially one of the worst biddies ever to exist and for the shortest amount of time, and she’d gladly do it if it meant she got to keep her sisters.
But it was still nice to hear. Even if…
“How do you know?” The well of uncertainty she felt like she was living in every night needled her into asking. “If this has only happened once before, how do you know it’ll get easier? Did Grace, the other biddy who didn’t, um, stay biddied – did she experience these side-effects, too?”
Alder stared down into her whiskey, clearly reminiscent of the past, before she admitted, “I don’t believe so, no. She went back to living her life on base. She was a bit timid around seeing me and the other biddies around campus for a little while, perhaps a little embarrassed. It’s a big change, as you know. But, no. She never reported anything.” Alder’s gaze snapped back to Tally, and she felt arrested with it. Unable to move from the spot. “What exactly are you experiencing now?”
Goddess, it felt confusing to even try to explain aloud, and Tally rubbed roughly at her temple, feeling on the spot. Feeling like she didn’t want to seem crazy, especially to Alder. “I… I can’t sleep. Not really. And it’s not because of your war memories, either, which were their own brand of difficult to deal with, but at least when I was having those dreams, I knew what they were. I knew I was experiencing those vivid memories from you. I wasn’t – I could process them?”
She frowned, taking in a deep breath, before it leaked out of her, taking whatever she had left in her good posture with it, feeling as though she melted into the chair, her voice barely above a whisper with the feelings – the confusion, the exhaustion, the certainty that she was doing something wrong – swirling through her. “Now, I just don’t know. I don’t know what’s really me or really you, what’s a dream, what’s a memory. And I’m so tired,” she confessed, her voice cracking under the weight of it. “I’m so tired, from trying to constantly figure it all out and process it.”
When she brought her gaze back to Alder, she didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t the deep frown, clearly marred with concern, a certain kind of sympathy, though, as Alder watched her closely.
“I think – I think maybe I know what could potentially help but…” She offered, before trailing off, already well aware that she’d overstepped tonight. And that maybe she shouldn’t be pushing her luck any more.
“Speak freely, Craven. It is only you and I, in here.” Alder spoke in smooth, soft tones, as she sat back in her desk chair once more, relaxed. “Even the biddies are asleep.”
Tally’s breath caught in her throat at the image she made, at the fire crackling, throwing a soft light on Alder’s features, at her words. Goddess. If her teenage self, with Alder’s poster on the wall and biographies hidden in her bedside table from her mother, could see her right now – in Sarah Alder’s office in the middle of the night, while Alder’s hair was down and free and luxuriously wavy over her shoulders, as she sipped on whiskey next to the warmth of the fire…
Well, Tally wasn’t positive she would have survived.
Good thing she’d grown. Right.
“I think it would be easier if I could talk about it. With you?” Tally hedged, before leaning into the idea with more verve. Because she had thought about this quite a bit.
“The best nights of sleep that I get are nights when I understand who I’m with or what we’re doing – er, I guess I should say, who you’re with and what you’re doing? I just mean… when everything makes sense, I can slip into it. I can go along with it all, like it’s a part of my own dreams or my own memories. I just – you have a lot of life you’ve lived that I don’t have any clue about accessing.”
Tally would know; she’d scoured the library for books or articles on Alder that she might have overlooked, before.
She had no idea what to make of the look on Alder’s face, though, and she was too anxious to dive into it before she actually finished. “I have this notebook that I write down the dreams in, to try and sort out what’s happening, to help me figure out how to process what I’m seeing. So I just think, if I could talk to you, about who the people are or what situations are going on… but – I’m not sure I can? If that’s allowed?”
She finally let her gaze land back on Alder, heart beating a bit too fast with the anxiety of whatever Alder might say back.
And she didn’t say anything back for a few moments, before her eyebrows inched up. “I don’t think there are quite clear rules for this, admittedly.”
Tally leaned back in her own chair as Alder pushed herself up, walking around her desk to pour whiskey into a second tumbler. She tracked every movement with her eyes, still finding it a bit surreal that she was sitting in here, that she’d allowed herself to follow her frustration and confusion and questions right to the source. There had been several nights that she’d wanted to do this, but her common sense had stopped her every time.
Alder turned, leaning herself against her desk as she handed Tally the glass, just tips of their fingers brushing. Tally swallowed hard at the buzz that started so easily in her hand.
“This entire situation, between you and I, is unprecedented. You volunteering to be a biddy in the field, forging such a deep bond between you and I – mentally – in such a short time, reversing the process… none of this is typical; you are quite an atypical cadet. I’ve discussed you with Izadora–”
“You’ve discussed me with Izadora?”
Alder looked a bit surprised, as if she hadn’t quite realized she’d spoke that aloud, before she schooled her features again. She coughed lightly. “Of course. Given the situation, it seemed prudent. And we believe, perhaps, given your rather rare and powerful Sight, you are able to see deeper, see more into my psyche than Grace did. Than even my normal biddies do, with how much you experience the moments.”
Tally worked very hard to not let herself preen under Alder’s praise of rare and powerful. If she needed anything to wake her up, she supposed that worked. She wished she could store that for the future.
“All this to be said, I think it would be perfectly understandable, perhaps even sensible, to review what is keeping you up at night.” She aimed a careful look at Tally, “Contrary to what people may say about me, I do not wish to see people suffer.”
“I don’t think that,” she was quick to say.
Alder shot her an amused look that was somehow mirthless all in one. There wasn’t a person in the literal world that Tally believed could hold the same complexity in a simple expression. It happened a lot with Alder, she’d taken to noticing ever since being a biddy. Since seeing beneath the exterior.
An exterior she’d ardently admired – maybe even worshipped – to distrusting and finding her cold, to seeing all of the layers underneath. Or, a lot of them. Tally wouldn’t even be naïve to say she saw all of what Alder was, under everything, even with her dreams.
“You don’t have to take back the words you’ve said or beliefs you’ve held about me, Craven. You expressed them on the mission for the Tarim, and I maintain that I do not owe explanations, so… you – and everyone else in this community, in the world – are entitled to your thoughts as to who I am as a person.”
“You did give me an explanation, though,” the words slipped from her, as she thought about Alder’s somewhat impassioned – and eye-opening, if Tally was being honest – account of her life and why she’d done things she’d done in the cave.
An explanation that pushed Tally into making the offer of becoming a biddy… maybe she would have done it, either way, honestly? She didn’t know. She’d never know.
Alder bit the inside of her cheek before she crossed her arms over her chest. “I suppose I did.” And that was all she gave, before, “My point is, Craven, you can think of me however you’d like to; but I will be honest with you, especially about this. I don’t wish for any witches to suffer.” She hesitated before softly adding, “You, even less than most.”
Tally swore her heart thumped in her chest a bit too warm and heavy at the words. Thump-thump. “Me?”
That small smile pulled at Alder’s lips again. “Yes, you. A very bold, very selfless, very talented young witch… who volunteered her life for mine, to great personal detriment and risk. Suffice it to say, you are a more welcome guest in my office than many. And should it assist you in something that appears to be ailing you more than a little bit, we can talk about it.”
There was a feeling that ballooned in Tally’s chest – hope that it would actually help her, amazement that Alder had agreed, and even a thrill of excitement, at the fact that she was going to be able to talk about these thoughts, these memories with Alder herself – and she grinned, widely.
“Now, are you going to drink the whiskey?” Alder gestured to the glass Tally held that remained untouched by her lips. “I can promise you that good alcohol is also an assistance when it comes to sleeping.”
“I’m not sure that’s really a healthy coping mechanism,” she quipped, looking down at the amber liquid.
Alder drew up a single eyebrow. “Perhaps not. But it’s true.”
Tally – she’d had wine, a little bit of beer, the special punch the other girls on the compound used to make, and whatever concoction Abigail was able to come up with that tasted so sweet it barely tasted like liquor. But never whiskey, and certainly not one of the expensive ones she was positive Alder drank.
Still, she brought the glass up to her lips, flushing under the observant gaze trained on her.
Sipped.
Then grimaced at the burn in her throat, managing to hold in a cough.
“It’s good,” she choked out.
Alder’s laugh was low and rich and Tally almost choked again at the sound of it flowing so freely from her lips.
“Give me the glass, Craven.”
She reached out for it, but Tally kept her fingers clasped around the tumbler. “No. I’m going to finish it; I’ve heard it’s good for sleep.”
Alder’s eyebrows notched up, a look that was distinctly impressed moving over her face. “Very well, then.”
Tally took another deep breath before she sipped again. It still burned. She still didn’t cough.
There was a small smile tugging on Alder’s lips as she shook her head. “I appreciate someone with something to prove.”
She sipped again, before the words fell out, “I’m really nothing if not eager to please.”
Her cheeks went pink as she registered the words – strong whiskey and no sleep, and Tally’s overall general lack of filter… a bad combination.
She appreciated Alder not laughing, though. Merely giving Tally a long look, before she turned and made to sit on her side of the desk, again. “Finish that glass, get back to bed, and you may return with your notebook tomorrow night after dinner.”
//
Okay.
She was going to Alder’s office tonight.
It was no big deal. It was basically the same thing as last night… only, Tally had plans to go there, she was invited in, to talk about Alder’s past and memories and details of her life that she, presumably, hadn’t discussed in a long time.
No big deal. Normal stuff.
She’d received a totally normal note, inconspicuously handed to her by Alder when she’d walked by Tally earlier that read simply –
Cadet Craven,
I’ve a meeting with the Hague this evening at 1930. I should be available by 2200.
General Alder
She hadn’t been expecting it, honestly. Alder had nodded at her the same as she’d nodded at a few other cadets she’d passed in the corridor. There had been nothing on her face that led on that she’d seen Tally in the middle of the night in her pajamas or given her a glass of whiskey that she’d watched her choke it down while looking as if she was going to laugh at any moment.
But as she’d walked by she’d slyly reached out, handed Tally the folded paper, and continued on her way, followed by her parade of biddies.
She was nervous and excited and she frowned at herself in the mirror.
“Are you going on a date tonight or something?” Raelle asked from where she lay in her bunk, just as Abigail came out of the bathroom.
“Tally’s going on a date?” Her volume significantly increased as she stared. Then, as she frowned. “You’re going on a first date and you’re wearing your tac pants?”
“I’m not going on a date!” She whipped around from the mirror, damning her blush.
“Well, where else are you going at almost ten at night?” Raelle arched an eyebrow at her as she pointed out, “You’ve been standing there fussing with your shirt for the last ten minutes. Normally by this time during a night before we have training, you’re just getting ready for bed.”
“Who is he? She? They?” Abigail cut in as she pulled on her own pajamas.
“No one!”
Tally had looked herself over in the mirror for the last ten minutes, questioning if she should be wearing her full uniform. She definitely wasn’t going back in her sleep clothes, that was for certain. And her tactical pants and long-sleeved black shirt was her usual casual wear, so she thought it was appropriate.
Then again, Alder never wore casual clothing. So…
A pillow hit her in the chest, bringing her back to herself, and she whipped her head up to look at Abigail. Who was giving her a satisfied look as she crossed her arms.
Raelle’s voice got her attention, though, “Does this have anything to do with where you were last night?”
“Where you were last night? Where were you last night?” Abigail’s mouth fell open, as she looked between them. “Tally Craven!”
She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I was only gone for like, an hour! You were out like a light before I left!”
“I got up to pee, and noticed your bunk was empty,” Raelle arched an eyebrow at her.
“And you waited until now to say something?! Shitbird,” Abigail accused, before throwing her other pillow to hit Raelle, before swiftly turning back to Tally. “You’re going to hold out on the details when you know all about our love lives?! What in the name of the Mother is that?” She demanded. “What gives? Oh, Goddess. Who is it? If it’s anyone in the Freyja Coven, I will kill you.”
Ever since they’d been paired against the Freyja Coven two months ago in their field training exercises, Abigail had declared them essentially her nemeses. Mostly because they were the only people who came close to beating them.
“It’s not! I’m not dating anyone.” She had to take a deep breath, holding it, before she admitted quietly. “I’m going to see Alder. To talk about my dreams. That’s it.”
And she braced herself, because she knew what was coming.
“Alder?!” They both shouted. Raelle with laughter, Abigail with skepticism.
“She just came to check on me,” Rae somewhat imitated, from Tally’s stint in the infirmary after her de-biddying. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It wasn’t!” She denied, her cheeks burning hotter. “We’re going to talk about my dreams, you know, her memories that keep me up at night? That’s it. She offered, to try to help me.”
“Riiight,” Abigail drawled. “It’s so like Alder, to take late-night altruistic visits with cadets.”
But – Alder herself had said it last night. Tally wasn’t just any cadet to her, anymore. Not after the biddy process and the connection since. It wasn’t – it didn’t mean anything, yet somehow it did. Tally didn’t quite understand it, herself. They weren’t nothing to one another, but they weren’t quite something.
It was… weird.
Somehow, though, she didn’t think that would do her any favors right now.
“I have to go or I’m going to be late.”
“Late to see the woman of her dreams!” Raelle added, chuckling as she flopped back down on the bed, but only after accepting Abigail’s high-five.
“I’m leaving!” She shouted over their laughter, pulling the door shut behind her.
She was glad it was a decent walk to Alder’s office, though, so that she could be sure her cheeks weren’t on fire by the time she arrived.
Whatever. So what if she’d had a tiny dash of hero worship for Alder when she’d arrived at Basic? And so what if she’d waxed on about it to Raelle and Abigail when they’d all gotten drunk together last year?
She was less naïve now; that much was absolutely true. She was definitely not the same person who had arrived for Basic last year.
Tally stopped in front of Alder’s office door, resting her hand on the doorknob. This was really happening. She was basically given carte blanche to hang out with Sarah Alder, in her office, after hours, and ask her all about her life. Regardless of the fact that it was only happening because Tally was exhausted to the verge of deteriorating, it was pretty cool.
She nodded to herself and readjusted her hold on the notebook, before walking in – and then paused, losing some of her bluster. Somehow, seeing Alder at her desk chin resting in her palm, watchful eyes trained on Tally, entirely unsurprised at her entrance, unlike last night.
“I see you’ve forgone knocking altogether, now,” Alder’s voice was unreadable as she slowly stood and walked to pour herself a drink from her bar cart.
Tally froze. Shit, okay, wrong choice. “I just thought – I mean, you didn’t punish me last night, and that was when I didn’t have a written invitation.”
She almost wished she brought the little slip of paper she’d been given earlier. Which she still had, tucked into her journal.
She relaxed as Alder faced her with a scoff. “Fair enough.” She arched an eyebrow. “Come in, but – always remember to shut the door behind you.” She took a sip of her whiskey, pulling a face, “Unexpected visitors are truly the worst, usually.”
Usually. Tally felt that little pleased bubble slide right through her, easing some of her nerves. Some. On the other hand, it bolstered her excitement, which – she wasn’t sure she needed more of, since she felt pretty damn bouncy right now. She quickly shut the door.
Alder shot her a look that Tally thought might count as… teasing? “I would offer you some, but you didn’t quite manage to hide your grimace last night.”
“Considering it was my first time having it, I think I did all right.”
A small smile played on Alder’s mouth as she nodded. “So you did.” She sipped as she walked slowly back behind her desk, sitting in her chair.
Her hair was up tonight, still. Tally wished it was down again; something about it made Alder seem so much more – approachable. It made Tally feel less like she was doing this for some sort of school project.
Then again, maybe that was the point, she thought as she sat in the same seat she’d been in last night, opposite Alder’s desk.
“Aged liquors are one of humankinds finest inventions.” Alder lifted the glass up to reflect in the dimmed lighting of the office.
Tally snorted, “I remember you feeling that way from when I was a biddy.”
She expected a reproachful look, and wasn’t disappointed, though Alder’s gaze wasn’t entirely disparaging. “Luckily for me, I have the alcohol tolerance of myself and seven others.”
“It would probably be pretty funny to see you drunk,” the words slipped out before Tally totally thought them through, and she inwardly groaned at herself. Regardless of how true they were.
Alder surprised her again, though, as she hummed thoughtfully under her breath. “There was once a dare I lost in 1897 that resulted in a bit of drunken debauchery around the campus.” She aimed a knowing look at Tally, “Just in case you’ve dreamed of that and written it somewhere in your notebook.”
Tally’s mouth fell open, a shocked delight moving through her. “I mean, I might be tempted to put it in there, now.”
Alder shook her head lightly before taking a sip.
And Tally did what she did so well to fill moments of silence. “My first drink was when I was sixteen; a fruit cider made from apples and pears that the older girls made on the compound one summer, even though all of our moms were really against it. You know. Pretty into clean living kinda stuff, and definitely not into underage drinking. Which makes sense, for sure, but there were a few girls going to college – they aren’t witches,” she felt the need to add on. Just in case. “And, you know, we were all pretty close, when you grow up in that environment in the same age range. So they invited us out into the woods behind the compound and we just hung out and tried the cider.” She wrinkled her nose. “It wasn’t that good, honestly, but it was fun. Until a herd of moms came and found us. That wasn’t as fun.”
She laughed at the memory, the chuckle turning a bit awkward as she fully realized the word-vomit that had just erupted, unthinkingly.
She didn’t look at Alder, drawing her legs up under herself and, instead staring down at her notebook in her lap. “Um. Anyway. Maybe we should talk less about me, and more about…” she trailed off, knocking her knuckles against the cover.
Only, her fingers froze as she went to open it because… was she really just able to do this? Ask Alder about everything she’d seen, heard, experienced in her centuries of thoughts and memories?
“It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before,” Alder had goaded her into starting, clearly sensing her hold up. “Unless you’d rather not?”
“No! I do. You’re right.” Tally muttered nonsensically under her breath, “I guess we’ll just start chronologically…” She bit her lip, tracing her fingertip over her own hastily written words, nodding to herself. A once in a lifetime opportunity, here.
She quickly reread her own dream journal, and the questions easily came rushing in –
“Can you tell me about the first version of Fort Salem?” She dug her teeth into her bottom lip, vividly remembering this dream. Because it had morphed into Tally’s own first days at school, switching between the school systems she’d gone into, with her teachers, into her first experiences at Fort Salem, each of her own memories cracking at the edges, bleeding into images of Fort Salem like she’d never really known, other than a brief picture in a history book. “Like, the first buildings – the first form it took, and the witches who helped you? Oh, and when the first fosterlings start to stay here, and where their wing was, originally. Because, I think? I saw in that it was originally on the east side of campus?”
She finally took a breath, blushing as she glanced up at Alder, who was watching her intently. Her eyebrows were raised, but there was a lightness to her features. As if she was surprised, but maybe not in a negative way.
“Not quite what I’d imagined you to ask.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Quite the contrary.” Alder took a deep breath, sitting forward. “Let’s get to it, then.”
//
Tally had really not known what to expect from this.
She hadn’t known how much Alder was going to let her ask, how many days she was going to be allowed this privilege.
At the end of her second night, she’d only started to leave Alder’s office when her eyelids drooped so heavily – she’d been in close-quarters training for two hours that afternoon – she could hardly keep them open.
“Dismissed, Craven,” Alder had said at the end of her recounting one of the final SNAFUs she’d ran into upon the construction of Fort Salem.
The order had made Tally’s eyes snap open from when they’d grown so heavy, but unlike the way that order typically sounded when Alder spoke it, it was soft? Firmly stated, but there was no biting order behind it.
She’d clutched her notebook closely, heading toward the door… but had paused when her hand fell on the knob, and she’d turned around. “I really appreciate this, just so you know. I know you didn’t have to do this, but – it was really interesting.”
“You listened to me discuss the construction of a military base for two hours,” Alder drawled, eyebrows raised. “You most certainly have uncommon definitions of fun.”
Tally shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “It’s not the first time I’ve been told that.”
Alder’s lips tugged into the smallest smile.
And it made Tally’s heart beat just a little faster, and she didn’t yet know if this would help her sleep, but she didn’t want this to be done, and, “Can I come back? Sometime? I know you’re busy, obviously. But, just, sometimes? When you’re free?”
That intense, burning blue gaze stayed on her. “I didn’t assume this would be done in a single night; if you’d like to return on, say, Thursday night?”
Her small grin instead turned into a full-on beam. “Great! Thank you. I… I’ll see you then?” She’d twisted the knob, still facing Alder, who was still watching her. “Goodnight.”
“Sleep well, Craven.”
She definitely didn’t expect to be invited back to ask Alder questions, repeatedly. Three times, on the second week. She didn’t expect Alder to be so… captivating, on every subject. Both factual and emotional, even, the cadences of her voice utterly riveting.
But by the third week, Alder trailed her eyes over Tally’s very full notebook, as they’d really only gotten through nine pages of thoughts and scribbles and halted memories. “You do, indeed, have a lot of questions.”
“You’ve lived a lot of life,” Tally countered.
“So be it,” Alder allowed with a small smile, and seemed… happy to continue, almost. She wasn’t going to look too much into it. If Alder was going to invite her back, Tally wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
And as their nights rolled into weeks, she looked forward to being able to hear all of these stories about Alder’s life more than the actual goal of getting to sleep. Which, was a bonus for sure, but… she was seeing behind the curtain.
Their meetings were sometimes planned in advance or sometimes, Alder would slip her a note, again.
I realize we didn’t discuss you returning to talk tonight, but you said last night you’d been sleeping very fitfully this week.
My night is quite clear after 2000hrs if you’d like to review, tonight. And in response to the question you murmured to yourself last night – the biddies are finding their early evenings in which they can retire whenever they’d like quite relaxing, actually.
Alder
“You’re sick,” Raelle had groaned, before playfully pushing Tally’s shoulder when she left for the night after carefully tucking her note away, before she’d stuck her tongue out and left.
She could take the bit of teasing she got hit with from her sisters – and she did – because it was so worth it. It easily started to feel like one of the most worth it things Tally had ever done.
Alder was always detailed and alive, the sound of her voice sliding over Tally in soothing tones, while she filled in bits and pieces that Tally’s mind soaked up, on any topic Tally brought up.
And she most definitely hadn’t expected Alder to be so… forthcoming. But she was –
“Yes, the… incident with the senator left much to be desired that evening.” She’d chuckled quietly to herself, linking her fingers over her stomach as she’d reclined in her chair. “After that night, though, you can believe she did not question the potential dangers of salva, again.”
And, “Actually, no. That must be something superimposed from your own life; that’s never happened during Samhain, for me. I don’t often partake in the event, to be honest. I – I have lost many, over the years. And there comes a time where sometimes it is better to not rely on calling anyone, at all.” She cleared her throat, her eyes narrowing slightly as she focused her gaze on her desk, setting her jaw in a way that Tally had come to start to recognize. It was the slightest tightening there, her cheekbones cutting across her face in such a sharp, exquisite light. “There are sometimes moments of particular longing to see a dear one, I admit. But I mainly partake in Samhain for the biddies. They debate amongst themselves who we will summon on the holiday.”
And, “That bit you have, there, in that timeline, is incorrect. I interrogated the Knower from Prussia, and afterwards, I was held captive on an island just north, in the Baltic Sea for two weeks, the incidents months apart,” a pause, before she actually cackled. “And no, she did not look like General Bellweather. That is most certainly from your own memories.”
And, “No, the fosterlings did not originally stay here, you’re correct. I’m sorry, did you just ask if I started it after witnessing a daddy daycare? What in the Goddess-forsaken name of the Mother–” She’d cut off her swearing as Tally laughed, unstoppably, at the baffled look on her face. “No. Whatever… that situation you are speaking about is your own machination,” she’d given Tally a disbelieving look, as if she was on the verge of laughing at her, though. “The fosterlings did not stay at Fort Salem until 1910.” Her eyebrows drew down, the laughter gone. “After the World War, we’d lost many witches, and so many young were left without their mothers. Without anyone to guide them into the beginnings of their Work. Without…” She cleared her throat, before delving into whatever heavy thoughts clearly laden down her mind. “So, that is when I built the ward for the fosterlings.”
She hadn’t expected Alder to be so free with her lighter moments, either. The rich laughter that spilled intoxicatingly out of her – so foreign to the person she was, in the light of day – was exactly that. Intoxicating. It no longer surprised her to hear it.
“That would be Marielle,” a chuckle broke from Alder’s lips, “The woman was perhaps the most unfortunate hand-to-hand woman to ever be under my personal command; I didn’t even know a witch could have such poor hand-eye coordination until seeing her with a scourge in action. There was certainly a deep-seated fear of… should we call it friendly fire?”
And in one particularly illuminating evening, she’d reviewed the name and description of every single biddy she’d ever had, in chronological order, and Tally had finally been able to piece together the women whose lives she’d seen snippets into, who she felt she understood, but could never place.
Still, though, she picked and chose what to delve into. There were dreams – memories – that were more intense, more emotional, more… more. And there was a part of her that was worried about crossing some sort of line that would put an end to these nights. Because they very easily came to mean something to her.
The nights that began with her sitting on the other side of Alder’s desk, while Alder sat on the other side, and ended typically after midnight, with Tally suppressing yawns because even though physically she was tired, she wanted to hear more.
That was typically how their nights drew to a natural end. Where Tally would yawn so widely, her jaw would crack and she couldn’t suppress it or hide it behind her hand. Alder would slowly start to bring whatever story she was recounting to a close, giving Tally a knowing look.
“Either I’m exceptionally boring tonight or you are nearly literally dead on your feet,” Alder had commented as Tally’s eyes watered with one of her yawns, on the Monday of their fourth week.
She scrubbed at her eyes, wiping away the unintentional sleepy tears that had leaked out, shaking her head. “No, no, keep going. It was just getting good.” She rested her cheek in her palm as she gamely tried to blink at Alder and clear the haze.
“Just getting good? I’ve been talking to you about Paris in the 1930’s for the last hour,” Alder admonished, but in that kind of playful tone she sometimes took on.
Tally chuckled, slow and sleepy. “Nooo, it’s all good. Really.”
It was so warm in the office, with the fire burning, with her knees cuddled up to her chest, even in the somewhat uncomfortable chair, and Tally felt lethargic, but in the most comfortable way.
It was comfortable here, she’d come to realize. Before all of this, she never would have thought that, but it was.
“Craven, are you sleeping better? I admit, sometimes when you leave my office in this state, I’m a bit… concerned,” Alder’s voice was soft, inquisitive, and indeed, concerned. And far closer to Tally than she usually was.
Tally blinked; she must have closed her eyes for a few seconds without realizing, and a jolt ran through her when she noted that Alder had taken the second seat, the one next to Tally’s.
She moved to sit up straighter, shaking her head like it could clear the cobwebs. “I am, a little.”
She hadn’t necessarily known this would even work when she’d suggested it; it had been a truly last-ditch effort to be able to get any semblance of a peaceful sleep. And while she definitely wasn’t getting full nights, after nearly a month, she was experiencing periods of three to four hours of restful sleep. Which was saying something more than she’d had, before.
“But it’s working enough. Like,” She yawned again, shifting to turn and look at Alder. She preferred this, she thought, to having the desk between them. It felt more personal. And she definitely knew she should get out of this office before she said something ridiculous like that aloud. “When I get to sleep tonight, I’ll probably be able to get a couple of hours.”
Alder’s frown didn’t dissipate as she traced her eyes over Tally’s face slowly, and Tally froze with it. “All right,” she acquiesced. She hesitated for a moment, before she reached out and touched Tally’s hand. “But, please tell me if it gets worse or if you have any other issues.”
Tally had to work to keep pushing out the breath that got caught in her throat as she stared at Alder’s fingers on hers, before trailing her eyes up to Alder’s face. Behind the curtain, she thought again.
“I will. Promise.”
Alder nodded, sharply, before dropping her hand. “Good. Now – goodnight. And good luck on your exam in Mothertongue tomorrow.”
//
Tally hurried down the hallway in early December, tossing a look over her shoulder as she went because she was sure of what was following her.
Or, who, to be more apt.
The Imperatrix’s footsteps, though she wasn’t hustling like Tally was, seemed to echo just as loudly. Or maybe that was just Tally feeling like her senses were heightened.
Relief washed over her in spades as soon as she came upon Alder’s office, and even though it was the middle of the day, she didn’t bother to knock now, either. Instead, she just prayed to the Mother that Alder wasn’t busy in some sort of top-secret meeting and thus wouldn’t kill her, as she swiftly slipped in and shut the door behind her.
“Excuse – Craven?” Alder whipped her head up to stare at her, all of the biddies following suit. She set her jaw, “What in the Goddess’s name do you think you’re doing? It’s the middle of the day.”
“Oh, thank the Mother, you’re alone,” she breathed. Maybe a bit of luck was on her side. “Except the biddies, of course. Hi,” she hastily waved at them and received her customary greeting of nods back that she received on the very slight occasion that they were not yet in their room before Tally arrived at night.
Luck might be on her side, but time wasn’t, and she was very conscientious of that, as her eyes skated over the office. She was very familiar with the office, by now. It had been a month of four-times-a-week – by now – meetings, after all.
But for all of the space Alder had and the actually surprising number of furnishings, none were really quite big enough to properly hide behind.
“Are you all right?” Alder asked, putting her pen down as she stared at Tally, the immediate reaction she’d had to scold tempered into a look of concern. “This is out of the ordinary, even for you.”
“No, I’m not,” she nearly hissed back as she locked her eyes on the desk. It was the only thing large enough…
Alder’s shoulders straightened, and the air in the room went just a bit colder as she stared intently at Tally. “What is it?” She ran her eyes over Tally’s face from across the room, “Has someone threatened you?”
A low hiss came from the biddies.
“Kind of,” she breathlessly answered as she made her decision, running to Alder’s desk. Behind the desk, to be specific, to the side Alder was sitting on – she’d never been on this side of the rather imposing desk that served as a divide between them before, she realized as she dropped to her knees behind it, next to Alder.
The room went silent, as Alder quickly wheeled back and stared incredulously down at her. “What are you doing?”
She looked up at Alder, desperation clawing through her as she answered, “I’m hiding from the Imperatrix.”
Immediately after saying the words, she regretted them and she felt her cheeks burning. Nope, maybe she shouldn’t have said that to Alder. Who had probably never hid like this from someone a day in her life, not even a real threat.
Alder reached up, rubbing at her temples, as her posture relaxed minutely and the room seemed just a few degrees warmer again. “Goddess. Craven, I thought something was seriously wrong.” She opened her eyes again, the ice blue of them electric. And so close, Tally realized, they actually hadn’t been this close since she’d been a biddy, and she swallowed hard. “You’ve barged into my office in the middle of the day because you don’t want to have a conversation with the Imperatrix?”
“You weren’t in a meeting or anything, anyway?” Tally insisted, staring up at Alder as she hunched her shoulders down and leaned against the desk drawers.
“You didn’t know that.” She sighed. “Craven, you…” Alder broke off, shaking her head slightly. But she never finished.
Which gave Tally the perfect opening to point out, “It’s your fault.”
“Excuse me?” Alder’s eyebrows slowly crept up her forehead, in a look that was subtle yet read as half-amusement and half-offense, yet another look Tally didn’t think anyone else could possibly wear. “How, pray-tell, could this,” she gestured to Tally’s position, “Possibly be my doing?”
“Because!” Tally whisper-yelled, “I…” she squeezed her eyes tightly closed before taking in a deep breath and admitting, “I accidentally napped through the meeting I was supposed to have with her, a few days ago.”
“And your response to that was to hide from her whenever you saw her?”
“No,” she bit out, exasperated. “I set up another meeting with her. Responsibly.” She dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “It was just – she railroaded me, talking about setting me up on pairing meetings with a couple of “contenders” that I’d meet at the next Reception.” She couldn’t help but blanche at the word contenders alone. “Still, I went to the second Reception last month, but then, I just totally zoned out. In like, a day-dream memory thing that was super trippy. And she reamed me out, talking about how my… events could hinder my choices to further my line, and has since informed me that she wants to have a “more serious” meeting regarding my future, and…”
Goddess, it was all a complete mess.
“I’m so tired,” her voice nearly broke on the word. Still, though, her shoulders only slumped for a moment before she shook herself out of it. Out of the fears she was being pushed into a future she both didn’t want and wasn’t ready for. “I make sure to dedicate my time and energy for my actual classes, always, I swear. But, the Imperatrix is…” She was a lot of things. Bullish and intimidating and had a lot of threats about the future, “Frightening–”
“More frightening than me? Than barging into my office in the middle of the day?” Alder asked, her gaze boring into Tally’s, offended.
And – Tally could only offer a weak smile. Because, you know, she really wasn’t a great liar. “I mean, I’m sure you would take her in a fight?” She offered weakly.
Goddess, she hoped that wasn’t going to end their meetings. The very meetings that had made Alder become far less intimidating and more into a very real person.
Alder’s mouth fell open, an indignant scoff working out of her throat. “There is zero doubt about that, thank you.”
Tally remained focused on the task at hand, though, before letting herself get side-tracked. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to handfast? Actually, I’m really sure that I am not ready to handfast, for a couple years at least. Not any time soon, or to someone only to have a kid, especially. That’s not – like, I’d love to have a kid – kids, one day, but not – shit!”
There was only one person who could be knocking on the door right now, Tally knew it even before she closed her eyes, and – yep. Her Sight confirmed.
“Don’t tell her I’m here, please.” She looked up at Alder, pleading with everything she had in her.
“Craven,” Alder’s exasperation was clear in her voice, as well as the you are absolutely kidding me look she shot Tally.
“Please,” she stressed. “I don’t want to confront her, again. It’s terrifying and I don’t really ever know what to say to her, and I don’t love confrontation like that and–”
“General Alder,” the Imperatrix’s voice cut Tally’s off, and she could only scooch closer to Alder’s legs and pray she wasn’t seen and that she had whispered quietly enough to not be heard moments ago.
“Imperatrix,” Alder’s voice was notches cooler than whenever she spoke to Tally, which gave her a little bit of hope. “How exactly can I help you?” She asked, as if she didn’t have Tally crouching down nearly hugging her leg at this point.
“Have you seen Cadet Craven?” The Imperatrix didn’t waste any time, her impatience cutting through the air.
Tally squeezed her eyes closed, waiting…
“Why would a cadet be in my office?” Alder challenged, her own impatience – Goddess, she was a good liar, so much better than Tally was – bit right back.
“I’m not quite sure of that, myself. But I do know that Craven turned around as soon as she saw me, and high-tailed it in this direction. Yours is the only office down this hallway, and she seems to have disappeared.”
“As you can very well see, there is no one here who shouldn’t be here,” Alder responded smoothly, and Tally looked up at her from where she crouched. The set of Alder’s jaw was… no one had the right to look good from this angle.
The Imperatrix, as Tally had been afraid of, was not so easily swayed. Yeah, she didn’t seem the type.
“General Alder, do I have to remind you – once again – that my position is free from your oversight? No cadet can come running to you to get an excuse out of my meetings with her, regardless of how carelessly you often seem to regard the importance of my work.”
Tally held her breath, able to feel that the Imperatrix took a step closer to the desk.
And she barely managed to stop herself from jumping as Alder wheeled her chair backwards and stood in a quick, decisive motion. “And do I have to remind you, Imperatrix, that my position is free from your oversight? You cannot mandate a marriage, no matter how much you may try to intimidate and bully my cadets into thinking so.”
“You would know something about bullying and intimidating young witches, wouldn’t you, General?” The Imperatrix’s imperiously mocking tone made Tally’s stomach churn with irritation.
“I actually have heard it around the base that you are frightening my cadets far more than I am,” Alder turned, easily stepping around Tally and making it seem as if she wasn’t, and she locked eyes with her for a single second.
Alder winked.
Tally bit her lip to keep her composure, because – Goddess. She fell against the desk even more fully as her heart raced. So stupid. Maybe she’d just been blinking.
“You seem to forget your cadets are witches first. And it is a witch’s duty to continue her line. Since that’s not a personal issue for you, I assume that’s why you often seem to forget.”
All right, the anger came rushing back, through the ridiculous butterflies, because – what did she say?!
Alder’s anger was muted in her voice, but very obvious, especially as the biddies clicked their tongues. “I have known more witches than you will ever see in a lifetime, Imperatrix. I’m more acquainted with our population than anyone else ever will be. But these young women have a right to live a little bit before they handfast for the purpose of having a child. They are more than breeding stock, just as they are not all interchangeable soldiers, and you cannot force them into anything.”
Tally very nearly opened her mouth to cheer, before remembering herself and snapping it shut.
Somehow even the Imperatrix’s silence was grating, and Tally could feel the irritation simmering in her.
“Regardless of your feelings, General, I will do my job. And your cadets, including Craven, will not skip meetings with me.”
“I will be certain to tell her if I see her.”
Tally almost died as she Saw the withering looks Alder and the Imperatrix sent one another, and she was vibrating from it. She managed to keep herself still and calm, until the door closed behind the Imperatrix, and she hopped up.
“That w–”
She cut herself off as Alder shook her head and held a finger to her lips.
Tally held herself still for another few moments, eyes darting to the door…
Before Alder finally lowered her hand. “She’s gone. Stealth detecting – something you should work on.”
Tally nodded, “Right, yes, I totally will. But – that was amazing!”
She beamed, filled to the brim with excitement and gratefulness and – she shook her head, brushing her hair back behind her ears.
Alder sniffed slightly. “I’ll not be cowed to a matchmaker who barges into my office, regardless of who she answers to or not.”
Tally was definitely not going to point out that they only found themselves in the… interesting? Relationship they were currently in because of Tally barging into her office.
The idea of it rushed through her, still, and she –
Her eyes widened, “Shoot! I’m late for Off-Canon!” It’s where she’d been hurrying to when she’d come across the Imperatrix in the first place. “I’ll talk to you later?” She rushed by Alder, stopping to grab her hand and squeeze it warmly, the way she would to anyone she was close to as a gesture of appreciation.
“I – suppose,” Alder had bit out as Tally rushed out.
//
It hadn’t occurred to her, really, until later in the day what she’d actually done.
Like, barged into Alder’s office when she could have been with General Bellweather or the Hague or the President herself, even. And then asked Alder to engage in an argument with the Imperatrix on her behalf, essentially. And had then grabbed and held her hand, as if that was normal for them.
Which, it wasn’t.
They didn’t touch. They didn’t even sit side-by-side.
She forced in a deep breath and withheld her groan, as she hesitantly knocked on Alder’s door that night.
There was a pause from inside before, “You may enter.”
Tally did, but only took a few steps in before she paused, unable to walk to her usual seat, when was met with an inquisitive look.
“Knocking. How very novel for you.” Alder stated, impassive, as she sat at her desk, a pen in her hand, as she’d clearly been writing some sort of missive.
She blushed, the embarrassment she’d been feeling since reflecting on her actions earlier nearly choking her. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m so sorry about earlier. Just, coming in here in the middle of the day, when you could have been doing anything, meeting with anyone, and then… touching you.”
Her choice of words made Alder’s eyebrows wing up even further. Goddess.
“I do hate to break it to you, but had you touched me in a way I found to be inappropriate, I think we both know I am capable of stopping you in a dozen ways,” Alder stated, a soft lilt in her voice as if – she was not serious. Well, she was, because her words were definitely true, but she wasn’t angry.
A nervous laugh worked out of Tally, “You’re probably underestimating that number.”
Just one side of Alder’s lips quirked into a smile as she looked down and finished writing whatever note she’d been working on. “Yes, I was sparing your feelings. I won’t try to do so again.”
That definitely sounded… light. The relief moved through Tally slowly, as she braced a hand on the small couch Alder had acquired to replace two of her more creaky, older chairs that her biddies had apparently complained about every day.
Alder swiftly capped her pen and stood from her desk, before she threw Tally a reproachful look. “I think the only thing you truly have to apologize for is saying you find me to be less intimidating than the Imperatrix.”
Tally laughed again, shoulders relaxing into it minutely. “I’m… yeah. Okay, I’m sorry about that, too. Because, I didn’t mean you aren’t scary or intimidating at all…”
She maybe wasn’t as much to Tally, not in the way she’d been, before. When she’d been a larger-than-life, ultra-powerful deity, almost, rather than a real person that she got to talk to.
“You’ve been spending the last several weeks telling me your dreams of my memories, Craven; I think we’re beyond unnecessary apologies.”
“I think we’re beyond you calling me Craven,” she’d murmured, unthinkingly, eyes widening when she realized – yeah, she’d said that aloud, as Alder turned to look at her again. “I just – I mean, you did call me Tally, a couple of times. As your biddy. And, you know, it is… my name.”
“Mhmm,” Alder hummed as she meandered to her cart. She didn’t drink every night, that much Tally had long noted. A couple times a week, and she’d recounted for Tally around how alcohol tasted strong and bitter and how she appreciated that, and she appreciated her biddy link quite a bit in the heightened tolerance it gave her. The glass of whiskey she had was very nearly the same effect as Tally drinking water… though Tally would personally take the water. “So I did. I typically refer to my biddies by their given names; it would be a bit strange to refer to the women with whom I share so much of myself with in a formal manner, I think. And, at the time, you were a biddy, rather than a cadet.”
Tally tapped her fingers against the soft upholstered material of the couch, before slowly sinking into it. “I guess you’re right.”
“In fairness, however,” Alder paused, looking Tally over from across the room, her glass loosely held against her palm. “You aren’t quite merely a cadet. You are someone with whom I’m sharing my memories with, regardless of how intentional the… connection was formed.”
Still, though, she worried at her bottom lip, the apology hot in her throat. “I never really asked – I mean, I appreciate you doing this for me. Really.” She couldn’t state it, enough. “But… is it hard, for you? Like you just said, you didn’t plan for me to end up with your memories. I wasn’t organized or prepared or anything like that, to become a biddy in the first place. And then after the end of my being a biddy…”
This time, Alder sat with her words, and Tally appreciated that she gave Tally the credence to truly think over what she’d said. The fire crackled between them before Alder spoke, softly. Slowly. “It would be very difficult, to share these parts of myself,” she acknowledged, “If I was not so used to sharing such parts of myself with the biddies already.”
All right. That was good, Tally could live with that. She could definitely live with being thought of as a biddy to Alder –
“And, in a way, it’s better.” Alder’s eyebrows drew together in thought. And, if Tally was honest, she wanted to know all of those thoughts. “It’s different, to talk about my feelings in this way. To talk about these recollections. It’s certainly a new experience than what I’m used to, but I’m finding it shines a new light to my own memories to discuss them, aloud.” The furrow of her brow cleared as she tilted her head and gave a small smile. “It’s enjoyable. To relive these moments in this way.”
“Oh,” Tally murmured, faintly, that pleased flutter moving through her. “Good. I’m really glad, actually.”
It happened, she’d registered, whenever she felt like she did something well. In a lot of ways, honestly; Tally was a pleaser. She wanted to help, to do a good job, to make people proud, to make them happy.
But especially when Alder, in particular, looked at her like she’d done something well.
That thought made Tally clear her throat and change the topic. “And, you know, thanks. Again. About the Imperatrix, earlier. I know you didn’t have to.”
“You’re right, Tally,” Alder stressed and the sound of her real name lingered throughout Tally's whole body, as Alder continued, “You do not need to thank me so profusely, regarding the Imperatrix ” Alder bit on her cheek, before she huffed out a breath. Her voice came closer, out of Tally’s view, before she appeared in her peripherals, turning to sit smoothly on the other end of the couch. She wasn’t quite close enough for Tally to feel her body heat or smell her, though she knew Alder’s exact scent of a fresh, clean soap mixed with just a bit of the fire she often had burning in her office, and somehow – always – a hint of rain. “It is no secret that that Imperatrix often rubs me the wrong way.”
Tally’s laugh shot out of her, before she slapped her hand over her mouth to stop it, sobering herself just barely. “Right. Yes. That’s the rumor.”
Alder’s look was amused, though, even as she shook her head and sat on the couch, angling to face Tally as she crossed her legs.
“Contrary to popular belief, it’s not because her power does not answer to mine – not just because,” she shot her a dry look. “But…” A heavy, contemplative look moved over Alder’s features. “I was alive in a time when women being forced to marry young, to bare children she might not be ready for, was commonplace. And it is not something I am eager to see replayed.” She slowly took a sip, the line of her throat arching back with it. “Of course, our society is far more female-centric; the choice of partner is a woman’s, and circumstances differ greatly from what they were. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But a woman’s autonomy is not something I can stomach being taken, even if it is to continue our lines.”
The passion in her voice was riveting, and Tally found herself nodding even before she’d realized it, bolstered by her words. There was more she wanted to say and certainly more she’d like to ask. About how Alder felt about not having children or any handfasting ceremonies in her vast lifetime, but she bit them back. That wasn’t quite information she was sure she was privy to.
She shifted to fully face Tally. “Now, if I may speak freely…?”
Tally nodded at once, surprise rippling through her. “Of course. Yeah. I assumed you always did.”
“We review your dreams as they pertain to my own memories. But I admit, I am a bit… interested, as to what you skip over. The parts that belong to you.”
“Me?” Tally breathed out a laugh, shifting where she sat as she felt her stomach do that pleased flip-flop. “Why?”
“You’ve lived your own life, have you not?”
“Not like yours. I mean, what have I experienced that you don’t know?”
“You have your own interesting experiences that you’ve gone through so far, I’m positive.”
“Right, like when I was a biddy.”
“Not just that,” Alder said after a moment beat by.
Tally swallowed, staring at her for a few seconds before she managed, “Because… everyone is interesting in their own way?”
Alder scoffed, “Please. I wish there would have been plenty of people I didn’t waste my time having to know in the last few centuries.”
“I guess I’m just confused,” she picked over her words slowly as that confusion mingled with a mounting astonishment. “About what you want to know about me?”
“Living on a matrifocal compound, for one thing, is a lifestyle I’m quite curious about and have never had the time to even visit. Your Sight, that I am very curious about. Your dogged quest for answers.” She nailed a look at Tally, and she flushed, toying with her fingers in her lap as tried to stop a smile… which was fruitless. “The fact that you chose to answer the call, when you had a dispensation. There are quite a few things I’m intrigued by.”
“I mean…” Tally licked her lips, staring at Alder’s expectant face, and even though she couldn’t quite believe it, she nodded, “Sure, if you want. I’m an open book.”
Alder shrugged, setting her arm over the back of the couch. “You say this, yet you realize in half of these recollective journal entries, you cut yourself off and skim over things you don’t believe to be relevant? About yourself.”
Tally blinked, running her fingers down the cover of her notebook in thought. “I guess I do. I just thought… you know, I assumed – you were doing this to help me. So, I didn’t want to bore you or make it too personal.”
“Ah, yes, you are recounting most of my entire life in your memories, but I would hate for us to get too personal,” Alder stated, and Tally was beaming, the smile so wide it hurt her cheeks, now. Oh well, what was the point of trying to hide it?
“You – you’re joking.” The wonder in her voice was unmistakable.
“I’ve been known to make the occasional humorous comment from time to time.” She sniffed. “It’s almost insulting that you might believe I’ve spent over three hundred years on this earth and not learned how to tell a joke, especially after the last month.”
“No, I mean, I know you know how to tell a joke, of course you do.” Tally bit her lip, trying to tame her expression into something resembling normal. Something Abigail wouldn’t totally mock her for. “You just normally… don’t.”
She’d told amusing stories a handful of times, chuckling with them, but that was typically the extent of her joking thus far.
“It’s never too late for personal growth,” Alder deadpanned, and Tally couldn’t control the peel of laughter that escaped her if she tried.
Alder, for her part, looked fairly satisfied.
Tally revelled in the expression for several beats before Alder dipped her gaze to the notebook in her lap and prompted, “Should we begin?”
//
Tally didn’t suspect that night that it would be somewhat of a turning point. Maybe even the night she would call the moment of no return.
For her, anyway.
Alder seemed fairly – business as usual.
But it was different, then. In hindsight, she should have seen it coming. You’d think, given her Sight and all… but she didn’t.
It was in the way they sat on the couch rather than in their respective chairs with the desk between them. Not close, but closer.
It was in the way Alder gently prompted Tally to tell her things about herself.
Little things, usually.
Like about how on her first day of school, Tally had clung to her mother’s hand… but then when she’d come to pick Tally up, she’d informed her that she’d made so many friends, she could never leave and that she just loved school!
And how she could knit a sweater better than anyone at Fort Salem, because she’d once spent a whole summer sitting in with her neighbor’s knitting group.
And how it was so different, growing up on the compound. Where there were just mothers and daughters and sisters and grandmothers and they’d all watched out for each other. How peaceful it had been. How she’d known everyone’s homes and the land and the fields, like the back of her hand.
And how she wanted that feeling, for… everyone. She wanted people to know that kind of community, and that was why she’d answered the call, because she knew in her soul it was right.
And how she was still getting used to being able to use her Sight at her command, so freely, and how it was a feeling unlike any other. Seeing what other people weren’t, couldn’t.
And they were little things, but it was also – they were things no one else had ever seemed interested in, but somehow Alder watched her carefully, as if she really was? Or she would laugh at her story, or frown, like she was invested.
It was in the way that Alder started slowly sharing the harder things she’d experienced, even without Tally asking –
“The Battle of Poltava… that was the most harrowing fight I’ve ever experienced. I lost half of my battalion, in one day. In under six hours,” her voice had gone so soft, so reminiscent, then. Tally had given her a few moments to herself, before Alder cleared her throat and continued.
“Evelyn, she was the closest friend I’d ever found, as an adult. She became one of my biddies, in 1812. I… for the first time, I’d asked someone not to; I wasn’t prepared for her to leave my side sooner than she had to. But she’d insisted, as we were on the front lines, and options were very limited.” She’d looked haunted, as she had turned to look into the fire. The soft glint of the flames reflected off her face, exacerbating the sharp curves and Tally couldn’t look away.
“I’m sorry,” she’d breathed out.
Alder cleared her throat, before turning to face Tally, clenching her jaw for a long moment, before relaxing it. “There is so much loss, in my situation that… I must accept it and move on. But there are still those with whom it hurt more.”
Still, though, there was a vulnerability there that… made Tally well up, with this absurd honor.
It wasn’t like she enjoyed that Alder had gone through these things or that she was reliving them, but it just felt like – like she trusted Tally to tell her them, instead of her doing this as a favor.
Which, Tally always was sure to remind herself especially after those moments, that this was a favor. A kindness.
And that was enough. It totally was.
It should be.
And it would be.
If only the night, two weeks before Yule, hadn’t happened.
It started like any other night.
Tally walked into Alder’s office, gently closing the door behind her and dropped onto the couch, folding her legs underneath her. “Sorry, I’m a little late,” she’d sighed, stretching her back against the furniture, wincing a bit at the stiffness. They’d gone into the field – one of their first minor excursions. Just a security detail, just getting a slight taste of action – but Tally had tweaked a muscle.
Alder was at her desk, focused intently down at whatever she was working on. Likely something to do with a new united military policy that the Hague was discussing. Admittedly, Alder had only muttered a halting few words on that, before she’d seemed to catch herself.
“Not quite what we’re supposed to discuss.”
“We can, though,” Tally had encouraged, maybe too eagerly, because… she loved going through Alder’s past, but she wanted to know more about the present, too. Way more, actually.
But Alder had shut her down, after a few seemingly thoughtful seconds. “I’m afraid we shouldn’t.” And – yep, a reality check for Tally once again. Not to get too comfortable.
“No need to apologize; I’m still working on a bit of–” she cut herself off, sighing as she rubbed at her temples. “Nothing.” She pushed back from the desk, “Let’s just say that our discussion will be a very welcome distraction.”
“Well, I’m happy to–” Whatever stupid joking comment had been about to escape her was totally lost a second later.
As Alder stood and stretched out her back, barely suppressing a sigh. And Tally had to swallow hard as she watched from her perch on the couch, frozen in place. Alder reached up and undid the top few buttons of her uniform; nothing lewd or inappropriate in the least, but leaving the hollow of her throat on a teasing display.
Tally’s breath shuddered out of her as she couldn’t have looked away if she tried.
Then reached up and started to undo her braid, and Tally was riveted to the spot.
She’d seen Alder with her hair down, now, many times. It was pretty clear she didn’t enjoy keeping it up when her official work day was done, which made sense, sure.
But she’d never seen the process.
She’d never watched this. This, Alder’s nimble fingers reaching up and working through her own hair. Thick and so soft looking and so wavy and Tally wondered if it was from the braid or it if did that, naturally.
Her fingers itched to touch as Alder combed her fingers through her own hair, lightly shaking it out.
And the attraction that barrelled through Tally made her breathless.
It wasn’t that she didn’t think Alder was beautiful – gorgeous, stunning, even – because Tally had eyes and there had always been something about Alder that was… captivating. Tally was entranced by her life, her world, her words, her aura, everything.
She truly believed she was in the presence of greatness, when she’d met Alder. And they’d worked back into that kind of place, since.
This was different, though.
This feeling that curled low in her stomach, then dipped even lower, warming into a desire. Finding someone attractive and being attracted to them, Tally realized in this moment, were different things.
It was very different than this hungry feeling that burned through her right now. This feeling where she didn’t want to take her eyes off of Alder and her breathing quickened before she even realized it and…
She dropped back onto the couch, slouching into it as she could feel her cheeks turning redder by the second, every moment she spent watching. She closed her eyes for good measure.
Oh, Goddess. Oh.
“Are you all right, Tally?”
She snapped her eyes back open to look up at Alder standing above her, a concerned look on her face.
“I – I – I’m fine,” she managed. “Just, my back hurts a bit.”
Believable, right?
Alder’s mouth slid into a considering line. “If it’s ailing you that much, do you need to go to the infirmary?”
“No, no. I’m fine.”
Alder hummed under her breath, before she offered, “Would you like me to…?” She gestured toward Tally.
And if her eyes could open any wider, they would have. They definitely couldn’t, as she nearly choked on the air in her throat. Alder was offering to link with her? Ha, okay, the last thing Tally needed was this woman having any idea of the thoughts coursing through her right now.
She snapped up straight in her seat. “No!” Then cleared her throat, groaning at herself. “No,” she replied, calmer. “I’m all right. Thanks, though.”
“A strong soldier,” Alder’s voice took on that slight teasing tone, shrugging as if to say, if that’s what you want… Before she sat on the other end of the couch. And then stared at Tally, expectantly.
Who stared back, blinking widely.
Her heart beat just a bit faster at Alder’s penetrating look, and then even faster as she lifted a hand and gestured toward Tally. “Where should we start tonight?”
That hand fell to rest on the back of the couch, her fingers tapping slowly against the fabric, in a deliberate pattern, one by one. It was captivating, the purposeful movements of long, capable fingers.
Tally dragged her gaze away. Goddess, how was she going to get through this?
She did – barely – by forcing herself to mostly look down at her notes and then leaving earlier than was usual. And pretending she didn’t feel Alder’s questioning stare on her when she left.
Sleep eluded her for reasons other than her dreams, for the first time in months.
Reasons like –
Was this new? Or was this something that had existed latently inside of her, somehow swimming around her conscious thoughts?
Tally had always admired her; how could she not? Then again, when she really thought about it – she definitely could have not. Unlike the High Atlantics or… really, a lot of witching communities, there was very little pride taken in military standing on the compound. She hadn’t grown up revering Alder or military officials. As she’d learned since starting at Fort Salem, a typical witch’s schooling and her own was different.
Tally had attended a civilian school. She’d learned basic Work from her mother and some from other witches on the compound, but… women moved to the compound because they wanted peace. Because, as much as they could without being a technical dodger, they objected to the military.
Yeah, okay, so her devotion to learning about Alder and that seed of adoration was definitely all her.
She remembered how her breath had caught the first time she’d seen Alder in person, the first day of Basic. It had been… stirring. Overwhelming. But she wouldn’t say it had registered as attraction.
The first true sexual attraction she felt she could identify as an adult, was Gerit. Because she definitely had found him sexually stimulating in a way that was different than anything she’d felt before.
But whatever she’d unlocked with Alder felt – well, even different than that. More powerful, more stirring, more overwhelming. She’d wanted Gerit, but she hadn’t felt like she would explode the second he touched her.
Tally pulled her pillow over her face, groaning into it.
Of course, this would happen to her.
“Can’t sleep, Tal?” Raelle’s voice drifted to her from the bottom bunk. A surprise, because she’d assumed she’d been asleep when she’d returned, as both she and Abigail often were.
She didn’t bother to lift the pillow. “Nope. Just… having a lot of thoughts.”
“You were back early from Alder’s tonight,” Abigail commented, surprising her again. “Finally had enough?”
Tally groaned again. “I’m kind of worried I’ll never get enough.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?”
“I’d love to wipe it from my brain. Unfortunately, I think it’s stuck there,” Abigail groaned, herself.
“Everything okay?” Raelle asked, diverting the subject.
Kind of. Since, everything wasn’t okay… but it was still Alder focused.
Tally drew in a deep breath, tugging her pillow down from her face as she blinked up at the ceiling. “Do you guys think maybe it’s normal to… theoretically… not realize you’re,” she swallowed, her stomach flipping, “Into women, until now? Like, sexually, I mean. Raelle, you clearly knew way earlier, and–” her teeth dug into her bottom lip for a second, but it couldn’t stop the ramble. “Like, maybe you just spend enough time with someone and when you see them in a certain way, you realize it’s not just this respect and admiration for them as a person but also them… as the way they look?”
She knew she hadn’t been yelling, but somehow she felt like her words echoed around the room as her stomach tied itself in knots.
Raelle answered, still softly, “I mean, yeah. Of course that’s possible; we’re always figuring ourselves out, you know? Just because I knew when I was eleven doesn’t mean that you… theoretically… only realizing now is any less real.”
The words and the calming reassurance in them worked, as she managed to take in a deep breath for the first time in hours. “Thanks, Rae. Because, I think I am?”
“I’m really glad you’re figuring yourself out, Tal,” Abigail said, sincerity in her tone. But only a second went by before she scoffed, “But it took you this long to realize you have the hots for Alder?!”
Raelle’s shot of laughter echoed through the room, followed by Abigail’s, and even as Tally brought both of her hands up and covered her face to try to ward off the embarrassment, she found herself joining in.
//
Tally could absolutely handle having an earth-shattering attraction to the most powerful woman on the literal planet.
It was fine.
So maybe she watched her a little more closely whenever they were having their nights together, and maybe now she recognized the tingle that shot right into the bottom of her stomach when Alder chuckled the low, nearly rasping laugh she got, sometimes.
She could handle those things.
In fact, she realized one night as Tally had regaled her with a story about how she’d once gotten stuck in one of the holes they’d dug out in one of their crop fields in order to check the ground structure and soil compaction to look into a new irrigation system – “All children get into mischief every once in a while. Though it does seem as though you got into it more than once in a while,” Alder had bit back a smile with her words. Tally flushed as she cleared her throat, “Yeah… I was sixteen.” And then Alder had truly laughed, her hand falling on Tally’s – she actually kind of… really liked the feeling. Loved it, even.
Sure, it was a special kind of torment. A one-sided yearning that she assumed would die down, eventually.
But it also made her feel alive, it was addicting. It made her feel full, like Alder was so much of everything – confident and yielding, serious and amusing, hard and soft – and because she was so close to her, Tally got to feel like everything, too.
And nothing made her feel more everything than on Yule.
Tally waited until the sun was starting to set – debating with herself if she should even do this. It wasn’t like she and Alder did things like this. They didn’t see one another outside of their designated times or celebrate holidays together or anything like that.
And yet…
Tally gently knocked on Alder’s office door with her elbow. “Can I come in?”
She only registered a second later that she hadn’t exactly identified who she was – like a fool – and she opened her mouth to just as the door opened.
“Is everything all right, Tally?” Alder’s voice drifted to her before she even crossed the threshold into the office.
Tally shot Celeste, the biddy who’d opened the door for her, a grateful smile, as the door closed behind her.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be? I just wanted to…” She trailed off when she saw that Alder was sitting on the couch, already. Which threw Tally off for a second, because… it was only just after dinnertime. Usually she was working or having meetings or – “Sorry, am I interrupting something? I guess maybe I should have asked earlier or something, but Anacostia is still out on her last mission, and I assumed she’d be who you’d spend the evening with, if you spent it with anyone. I guess I didn’t really think…”
She trailed off again, because that was it. She really hadn’t planned this.
Those blue eyes seemed to burn right through her as Alder’s gaze fell on her and held for long moments, landing on the Yule log in Tally’s arms.
“You aren’t interrupting anything.” She slowly cocked her head, gaze curious. “Did you bring that for me?”
The incredulous surprise in her question left Tally with a heat creeping up her neck, as she shifted her grip on the log in her arms.
“I… I didn’t really make it with any intention, honestly. I–” her eyebrows furrowed, as she thought of the dream she’d had last night.
It had been the same as the one she’d had months ago, that had prompted her here in the first place. One that she’d yet to ask Alder about, because even as they combed over so many of her memories, there was something about that one that felt… it felt… heavy. Personal. Too personal for Tally to have the right to, even more than the others.
The one with the girl who clutched to Sarah like a lifeline, the one Alder called Abigail, as they ran through the snow with no shoes.
She’d woken sobbing, this crushing feeling in her chest, like she would never find warmth or happiness or safety again. Like the world was well and truly over, even though she could see that for so many others, it was thriving.
There had been no sleeping again after that.
“I couldn’t sleep last night, so I went out and did… this,” she hefted the log with a bit of exertion. “And I don’t have a fireplace in my room to burn it,” she awkwardly laughed, “But, you do? So, I took a chance and thought maybe you were available?”
The Yule log was roughly cut and shaped – Tally’s knowledge of Work to manage that was limited, but she’d done so at four in the morning with moderate success so, go her – and was decorated with sprigs of holly, pinecones, and a small wreath she’d managed to weave around it, tucked through with the red berries that grew on the east side of the base.
“On the compound, we had a traditional Yule bonfire for everyone’s Yule logs. To burn together, to release all of the negative energies into the past year and push forward into the new solstice with only the whisper of smoke in the air. But my mom and I, we decorated ours together, while we would light our candles for our blessings while we did it. Talk, about what we visualized for the new year ahead.” The image played in her mind, unbidden, from last year’s Yule.
Usually such a peaceful time in her house – as it was intended to be for most. The memories she had of her mom baking and cooking whatever she was bringing to the large potluck they had on the compound, were warm and comforting.
Not last year, and her chest felt tight with it.
The log nearly fell out of her arms as she got lost in her thought, and the slipping of it out of her grip jolted her back to herself.
Alder was there in mere seconds, holding it with her, as her gaze – piercing and inquisitive – held Tally’s own. “Where did you go just then?” She asked quietly.
Tally swallowed thickly. “Nowhere, I just got lost in thought, I guess.”
The corner of Alder’s lips twitched. “I’m afraid you remain one of the worst liars I have ever come into contact with.” She held Tally’s gaze with her own long enough that Tally felt herself shiver, before she inclined her head. “Why don’t we put this in the fireplace?”
Alder took one end, Tally took the other, and they gently lowered it into the flames. They stood and watched it for a few seconds in silence, before Alder murmured, “To the Goddess we give our thanks on the longest night. Tonight, we will embrace the darkness that has fallen around us, emboldened by the light of the stars. We know there will be a new sun tomorrow, that we have cycled safely through another year.”
Tally had heard the Mother’s Yuletide Blessing many times in her life. It never sounded the same as it did in that moment.
Alder turned her head just enough to catch Tally’s eye, nodding at her.
The words bubbled up inside of her, then, matching perfect cadence with Alder’s, “We are thankful for all we have had given in the past year; we will mourn that which we have had taken; as this night turns anew, so too do we. Blessed are we, the daughters of the Mother, in times of darkness and in light.”
They fell into pitch together, the seed starting deep, before becoming light-pitched – nearly untraceable – and the flames danced higher around the log, the crackling sounds from the decorations becoming louder.
Tally continued to stare down at the fire for long moments after, before she felt Alder’s gentle prodding, “Come, sit with me.”
And Tally really didn’t need to be asked twice to do that.
“Tell me why there is so much sadness on your face tonight,” Alder requested as she settled onto her spot on the couch, firmly turned to face Tally. There was concern etched into her face, a concern that made Tally’s stomach flutter with it. “And don’t deny it; I can feel it all around you.”
Tally tangled her fingers together in her lap, shrugging. “It’s not – I wasn’t going to deny it.”
She might have.
Still, she shook her head. “It’s not a big deal, I just… Raelle and Abigail are home for the long weekend.” As were many cadets; Yule was one of the handful of weekends where anyone on base was granted a short leave. “I’m a little – lonely.”
Alder waited a few beats before asking, “And you did not want to return home for your leave?”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” she started, then halted.
It was weird, she realized in that moment. They never really did this. Just – talked. Really talked. Well, they did – a lot, amazing kind of talks – but it was all so rooted in Tally’s notes and questions that grew into more elaborate stories and explanations. It was not sharing just for the sake of sharing.
The look on Alder’s face was interested, though, like she really was waiting to hear what Tally wanted to say. And… she did want to say it. Tally liked to talk about her feelings, she liked to share them and review. She’d always been a big believer in open communication.
It was kind of what was on her mind all day, anyway.
“Last year, I told my mom when we were working through our resolutions that I was going to answer the call,” she whispered, staring into the fire. Even without closing her eyes, the scene easily replayed in her head. “And my mom and I – she’d never looked at me like she did, then.”
She had since, most times they’d talked about Tally coming to Fort Salem. As if Tally was someone she didn’t even recognize.
“My mom was usually so… we’d had some arguments when I was growing up, but nothing ever really bad; I’ve never even been grounded. Never anything like that.” Tally squeezed her eyes closed then as the backs of them burned with tears she refused to cry yet again. “It changed something between us. That I chose to come here, even though she’d fought so hard for her own dispensation, and then mine, too. There was something different, when we were together after that. A distance, a betrayal, and it hasn’t gone away since.”
“And it’s okay, sometimes,” a small grin played on her lips as she rubbed at the edges of her eyes, wiping away the moisture there before the tears could fall. “Sometimes we can talk on the phone for a while, now, and it’s normal.” She could feel her smile thin and waver. “But then there’s always a moment. Someone shouts an order from behind me or I accidentally slip something too military focused into conversation, and there it is, all over again.”
A heavy breath shuddered out of her, her heart aching with it as she looked down at her hands in her lap. “So, I could have gone home. My mom definitely has never told me I can’t. In fact, if I turned up on her doorstep as a deserter, she would probably be the happiest she’s been in a long time. But I just know that if I went,” she tangled her fingers tightly together. Because she would have liked to go. She’d like to see her mom, to see the other women on the compound, to see her home for just a short visit. “She might be happy at first. And then she’d look at me like I was breaking her heart, all over again.”
She swallowed thickly, turning back to look at Alder, as she admitted, “I didn’t feel like third-wheeling at Raelle’s with her and Scylla, and apparently the Bellweather’s are spending their holiday with other relatives in upstate New York. And I can’t go home and face my mom like that, again. So, I’m here. Even if it is… a little lonely.”
When she met Alder’s eyes, she didn’t know what to expect. Because regardless of how much they shared, even when it did turn a bit heavy or deep, it wasn’t emotional.
But she didn’t expect the brightness in that intent gaze, the sharp focus, colored by sympathy.
And she most definitely didn’t expect Alder to speak in a voice so soft it barely reached Tally over the still-crackling fire, “My parents were killed the day after Yule.”
Somehow, Alder’s words made Tally’s world move slower, the aching feeling that had barely started receding from her own Yule memory returning ten-fold. “What?”
Alder’s jaw clenched, a rough breath leaving her as she shook her head, and – they’d talked for over six weeks now, about so much of Alder’s life, but so rarely about her family. About her life before the military, and Tally wanted all of it, even though she was certain it was going to hurt.
“It wasn’t necessarily a surprise; the persecutions throughout the Holy Roman Empire were the most extensive in the world. But… we thought we’d been so careful.” Alder’s eyebrows drew down, her voice rough with emotion.
“The witch hunters came in the middle of the night, throwing their torches through our windows. I remember the crash that woke us while we slept. They went for our parents, first. And my mother, she screamed for us, for my sister and I, to run, as they’d already started dragging my father out. She used a protection seed for us in those final moments, and so… I took Abigail’s hand and did not look back.”
A heavy breath escaped Alder as she stared hard into the distance. As if she could still see it all. And she could, was the thing, Tally realized.
Because Tally herself had seen that night. It was the dream she’d had that started all of this. The dream she’d had again last night. It made sense, she thought, because the first time she’d had it had coincided with Tally dreaming about her own memories of a summer solstice Glory had reminded her of earlier that day. Then, they’d blended with Alder’s winter solstice.
The bitter cold that bit at Alder as she’d run, the freezing on her feet that had made her bleed as she’d ran barefoot through the woods. The way Abigail had clutched Alder’s hand, barely managing through her tears to tell Sarah that she couldn’t go any further.
The crushing sorrow that felt so heavy, Tally thought she might die from it in her dream was reflected there on Alder’s face, now. Muted and more controlled, but haunted.
“So, I often find myself a bit… lonely at Yule, myself,” she finished softly.
And Tally couldn’t help herself, not against the pain and anguish she could still feel from that dream, lodged inside of her. Not knowing that Alder carried that inside of her, among everything else.
She launched herself across the couch and wrapped her arms around Alder’s shoulders, and she could feel her surprise. The stiffness in her back as Tally squeezed and pressed her cheek against Alder’s.
Tally was a big believer in hugs – she always had been. Her mom gave them freely, as did many of the women on the compound. She hugged Raelle and Abigail nearly daily, even if they griped about it on occasion.
She’d never hugged Alder, though, she realized several seconds into it, in which Alder hadn’t yet returned it.
Embarrassed – which, it might have been the first time she’d been embarrassed to hug someone, ever – she started to pull back, before Alder’s arms wrapped around her back. Holding her right where she was.
“Sorry,” she whispered, “I realize we don’t really do this. But, a hug can be allowed on Yule. Right?”
She felt more than heard Alder’s laugh, against her, and Tally closed her eyes with it, feeling Alder’s cheek against her cheek, the warmth of her fingers over Tally’s spine even though her shirt.
“I don’t hug very much, these days, I admit,” Alder’s voice was barely more than a rumble against Tally’s ear. “Occasionally with Anacostia. But – this is nice. Thank you.”
She worked very, very hard to not shudder at it. Because she hadn’t overly thought about this hug before she’d done it. The proximity wasn’t something she’d considered before the hug; she’d been leading with her heart… a known issue for her.
Tally nodded, feeling her heart pounding in her chest, before she pulled back, letting her arms drop from around Alder’s shoulders. She tingled, though, all over from the closeness, and she wondered if Alder’s cheeks were a little flushed or if it was a trick of the dim firelight.
She knew for damn sure hers were.
She settled back on the couch, this time on the middle cushion, though, her knee pressing against Alder’s. It felt right – it felt allowed. For tonight only. “My mom said it was the most painful thing she’d ever experienced. Losing her sisters.”
Tally chewed at the inside of her cheek after the words escaped her, and – maybe she shouldn’t be talking about this?
Still, the words tumbled out anyway. “She was almost going to come to basic; she was only granted a dispensation three days before her eighteenth birthday. She only had one daughter – one me – because she said she did it perfectly the first time, so why do it again? But,” she had to swallow hard through the tightness in her throat returning, “I knew it was because she was terrified that if she’d had more than just one daughter, they – I – wouldn’t be granted a dispensation. She stopped at one, because she thought for sure, it would keep me safe. She’d always talked about how growing up with her sisters made her life better. How she had chosen life on the compound, because I got a pseudo-sibling bond with the other girls there, like that. And she wanted to have more of us, but…”
Her mom’s sheer terror at losing more of her family to the army had stopped her from doing a lot in life. Debilitating, in a way, in her sadness and anger, and living on the compound had tempered much of it, she’d said. Living among the peace was how she’d managed to find any semblance of peace, herself.
Tally’s eyebrows drew together as she stared down into her own lap, blinking hard and refusing to cry again over this. “And I broke her heart. Because I ignored the dispensation.” She cleared her throat, forcing herself to straighten her shoulders. Nope. Not crying again. She wouldn’t. “The, um, the point is – she doesn’t talk about it, a lot. Her sisters. Because it hurts too much. So I can only imagine…”
She almost jumped in surprise when Alder’s hand landed softly on her thigh. Her fingers moved gently, stroking, as if to soothe Tally. And, it sort of worked. She also felt a distinct heat from it, but – it was an interesting amalgamation of sensations.
Still, it allowed her to take a deep breath, looking up at Alder.
Who was regarding her with one of those looks she had, sometimes, when she watched Tally and listened to her talk. It was thoughtful but always intense.
Then again, she wasn’t sure there was a thing Alder did that wasn’t intense.
Tally cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to make this all about me, by the way,” she waved her hand in the air, “Which, I guess I totally did. I just meant – I know, from my mom and from my dreams, how hard it must have been, for you.”
“Yes, well… sometimes the only thing you can do is push on. Often, actually.”
Her hand was still on Tally’s thigh. She didn’t forget that and the sensation didn’t dissipate in the least, either.
She hoped Alder didn’t notice the way her breath trembled as it escaped her, and she attempted to joke, “I guess as far as bad Yuletides go, you win.”
“There is no competition in suffering, here. There are only hard choices. I have made mine, and you’ve made yours.” Alder squeezed her thigh softly. “And we will both see them through. It’s what we do.”
We. As if, they were a pair in a way other than being inexorably connected – as if the connection was by choice, like their sharing tonight was a choice rather than anything else.
That shot through Tally, too.
She was both relieved and disappointed when Alder slid her hand from Tally, her gaze turning thoughtful. Then she nodded to herself, pushing herself to stand and – wordlessly – the biddies walked into their room. Tally looked around, jarred by the sudden change and still feeling the ghost of Alder’s hand.
“Are we done for the night?”
A hint of a smile played on Alder’s lips. “Not quite. But I would suggest you get a jacket.”
Thirty minutes later – adorned in her jacket – Tally found herself standing shoulder to shoulder with Alder around a large fire outside, the biddies standing on the other side. Alder had easily lit up with a simple seed when they’d gotten out here, and… Tally was still a bit confused.
“What, um, exactly are we doing out here?” She looked around them, her breath visible in the air from the cold even with the heat of the fire a few feet away. They’d walked far enough away from the main part of the base, no one was around.
Alder arched an eyebrow. “Do you have any other plans?”
Tally rolled her eyes, pushing at Alder’s shoulder before she really realized what she was doing. She dropped her hand back into her pocket, “Obviously not.”
Alder grinned at her for another beat, before she cleared her throat. “Well, Tally, you are not the only one who has traditionally celebrated Yule with a bonfire.” She handed Tally a piece of the wood that was leftover from the bundles of firewood they’d all carried out here. Tally took it silently, turning it over in her hand. “And as you stated earlier, Yule is a time where we release our negative energies, our discomforts, and disgruntlements from the past.”
Alder turned her own piece of wood over in her hands.
“I once served with a woman, Florence, during Yule. We were deployed in Vienna, and morale was – as you might imagine – quite low. Florence built our fire that evening… and decided that she wouldn’t silently burn away her discontent. She was going to exorcise it. That she would not quietly make a resolution for positivity, she would make it known. So, we all did.”
Tally nearly jumped as Alder chucked the piece of wood in her hands into the fire, sending out a little cascade of sparks. “I am livid at the number of Spree attacks this year,” her voice rang out, loud and clear. “And I feel it all weigh on my shoulders.”
Kalinda, one of Alder’s biddies, threw hers next. She didn’t speak, but Alder did, “She is deeply hurt, by her father’s death three months ago.”
Rosemarie went next, and Alder let out an exasperated sigh. “She is yet again lamenting about the switch in toilet paper brands our supplier switched to.”
A surprised laugh bubbled out of Tally’s throat as she looked down at the wood in her hands. There was a lot she could say – she was so tired of the fracture between her and her mother. She was tired of being thought of as any less powerful or capable than anyone else. She was tired of the Imperatrix trying to force her into a future she wasn’t ready for. She was –
“I’m tired of every time someone tries to make me doubt my truth,” the words left her in a voice far stronger and louder than she’d expected, throwing the wood with more force. But it made her feel… better. Stronger.
She picked up another piece. “I never want to spend another Yule feeling lonely like this, again.”
And another. “And I still hate that my copy of A Witch’s Work was ruined beyond repair when Rae spilled her coffee all over it, even if it was an accident.”
As the final spray of sparks landed, then blinked out against the ground, Tally released a deep breath and stared down at them. She – she did feel like a weight was lifted. Amazed, she looked up at Alder.
Who was already watching her in amusement. “A Witch’s Work?”
Tally blushed, tucking her hands back in her pockets. “Yeah. It’s – it’s an older book–”
“I know what it is,” Alder interjected. “Witch fairy tales.”
“And legends, myths, and fables, but – not important,” she shook her head. “I had a copy – this beautiful, ivory-bound edition with a fabric cover that’s… I’ve never seen another one like it. My grandmother gave it to me when I was a kid, and I was obsessed with it.”
“Somehow, that does not surprise me.”
“I brought it with me, here. And… fine, it was hanging on by a thread, with the number of times it’s been read,” she admitted, before waving her hand, “But still. And, it’s gone. But, it’s a great book, and you shouldn’t knock it til you try it.”
She’d said the same to Raelle, who’d given her such a look – similar to the one she’d given Tally when she found out Tally had subscribed to Reveille. “Did you ever obsess over anything that wasn’t related to being a witch?” This time, she’d laughed, but she’d definitely meant it – as Tally had handed it to her.
Alder handed her another piece. “And now, for a resolution.”
“You went first, last time,” she pointed out.
Alder’s eyebrows lifted in acknowledgement. “Fine.” She picked up another piece herself, and stared down at it for several long moments. Tally very much wished she could see the thoughts turning in her mind. Like. So badly.
She stared down at the wood in her hands, the light from the fire dancing over the angles of her face in ways that made Tally’s fingers itch to touch. And because she was watching so closely, she could see the moment the thought struck Alder, in the way her eyebrows furrowed, before she glanced at Tally, then away. Almost too quickly to be seen, if only Tally hadn’t been so closely watching her.
Then she cleared her throat and tossed the wood. “I would like to lead several successful tactical missions against our greatest threats.”
Tally’s mouth fell open as the disappointment rattled through her. “That doesn’t count.”
Alder lifted her jaw, the move imperious. “I am the General of the United States Army, Craven; if that is not a resolution I should be making, I’m not sure what else is.”
Tally barely resisted an eyeroll. But also – as much as she wanted to challenge her, that was a blatant reminder. This might be something Alder was doing with her – for her? – and maybe they didn’t have a typical relationship of Cadet and General, and maybe Tally was so attracted to Alder it was painful, but she didn’t have the right to demand more.
That thought made her snap to attention somewhat as she nodded, looking back into the fire. “Right, General.”
“Now, you.”
She almost said something to rival Alder’s “admission” of resolution. Something like, I’ll improve my Sight or I’ll beat M in hand-to-hand.
Instead, though, she nodded to herself and tossed in her wood, looking at Alder as she did so. Finding Alder’s gaze was still on her, and holding it as she spoke. “I’m going to live all of my truths.”
//
Tally honestly hadn’t even realized it had happened – that she’d slept through the entire night – until she woke up in the morning. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep.
Dark eyes blinked open and she blearily registered that she was still curled up on Alder’s couch, her head on the side Alder typically sat on. Only she wasn’t there.
Which, made sense. Right. Because it was clearly morning. Slats of light streamed in through the windows, and Tally was wrapped in a warm knit blanket. Which was definitely nice, because there was a slight chill in the early January morning air in the office, now that the fire wasn’t on, as it often wasn’t during the day.
She blinked, pushing herself to sit up as she rubbed her hand through her hair. The feeling of embarrassment pushed through her, because…
She didn’t remember falling asleep, at all. She remembered walking into Alder’s office at their typical time. Alder had still been at her desk, still working intently on something. She’d given Tally a glance and a hurried smile, before dipping her head back down, “I should be finished with this in the next half hour, if you’d like to wait.”
And, of course Tally wanted to wait. Especially because… well, this was only the third time they’d met since their Yule night last week, but things didn’t feel exactly as they’d been, before.
Tally had left that night, regardless of Alder’s refusal to tell Tally any real resolution – which, if you asked her, went against a sacred aspect of the solstice spirit, feeling like they’d experienced a sort of shift. Like they’d spent time together by choice that night, shared by choice, rather than what these evenings had been borne of. A kindness, a necessity.
Sort of like they were friends, which had been building for weeks before that, too.
But Alder had been more reserved since then. Tally couldn’t quite put her finger on it, exactly. She still invited Tally to come to her office, they still talked for a couple of hours. But it was less – it was less…
She didn’t know exactly how to describe it. But it was just less.
Alder didn’t laugh as much, she didn’t make a single joke, she didn’t tell emotional stories, or do that thing where she combed her fingers through her hair and breathe out that deep, quiet sigh that did things to Tally –
She didn’t relax the same way. She was hardly relaxed at all. It was almost as if they were sitting with the desk between them, again. A barrier.
Still, though, Tally had sat, curled her knees up to her chest and rested her cheek against them, as she’d breathed deeply and enjoyed the familiar smell of Alder’s office – the clean, fire, rain scent Alder had, mixed pleasantly with fresh paper and a hint of spice.
In the last two months, Tally found there were fewer things more calming than the smell and the feeling of this very space.
And her tension from the day – a very long, very intense day, in which the Sekhmet Coven had been paired against the Freyja Coven to go head-to-head out in the training fields from dawn til dusk, during a snowstorm to top it all off – started melting away.
That was all she remembered.
She looked around the office; she’d never been here early in the morning. It seemed peaceful, though that was likely because no one was actually in it, not even Alder herself. And it was – Tally’s eyes widened as they landed on the clock. It was nearly 0800, which meant she had less than a half hour before Mothertongue began, and –
Her eyes landed on a crisply folded note.
Tally –
It seems you’ve finally managed a full night of sleep. And it certainly seems I would be remiss to wake you from it, after us striving toward it for months, now.
Perhaps it was your triumphant victory against the Freyja Coven in field practice today that truly tired you out.
Tally hadn’t even had the chance to tell her about that, before she’d fallen asleep.
I’ve moved my morning meeting to General Bellweather’s office; throwing her off what she expects is far more thrilling for me than you can imagine. I should do that even when you do not fall asleep in my office.
Getting the Biddies to be quiet enough to not wake you was a process; believe it or not, when they have breakfast in here most mornings, it’s far louder than you may think.
If you haven’t woken fifteen minutes prior to your Mothertongue class, I have used a Working to set off the alarm on my desk.
Enjoy your day after a full night of rest.
S.A.
Well.
Tally – she didn’t really know what to do with this. It was just a little note, but the fact that Alder had left her a note at all, complete with the swirly initials at the end… Tally bit her lip.
Fine, there was nothing in here that was even that personal, really, and it was just a note.
Still, she held tightly to it and she was going to store it with her handful of other just notes from Alder.
Her eyes landed on the clock again. Twenty-two minutes to get back to her bunk, change, and get to Mothertongue – and she ran.
She was, admittedly, surprised when Raelle and Abigail were both still in their room. “Hi! Sorry! We’re not going to be late!”
She zoomed past them, having made the executive decision to shower later – she’d showered just before going to Alder’s office last night, anyway – on the run back, swiftly tucking the note she’d kept clutched in her hand under her pillow before tugging out her uniform to change into.
“Tal!” Raelle reached out and grabbed her shoulder, turning Tally to face them. Both Raelle and Abigail’s expectantly concerned and agitatedly concerned, respectively, expressions very clear. “Where were you? Were you out all night? Are you okay?”
Tally shook her head, pushing back her hair, “I’m fine. I’m good.”
“You could have at least told us where you were going after Alder’s,” Abi stared her down. “You know, since you’re the girl who’s been stabbed in her sleep in the middle of the night and all, this past year.”
“You were worried about me?” She bit her lip, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in Alder’s–”
“You and Alder?!” She wasn’t sure what was louder – Raelle’s shocked words or Abigail’s exaggerated gag.
“Nothing happened!” She insisted, tugging on her uniform pants.
She shrugged out of Raelle’s touch as she spoke so she could duck her head instead of looking at her sisters. Whose incessant mocking she already endured.
“Last night or ever?” Raelle asked at the same time that Abigail accused, “Not because you didn’t want it to.”
And she definitely wasn’t going to give credence to Abigail, as she insisted – the truth – to Raelle, “Never! You know that!”
Abigail perched both of her hands on her hips and imperiously ordered, “Check her mark.”
“Right!” Within seconds, Raelle was pushing her hair back of her shoulder, and instinctively, Tally started pushing her off, ducking her head to guard herself.
“No!” She went to bat Rae’s hands, before realizing – “I mean, fine. Yeah, check it!”
And she was only minutely nervous as Raelle tugged her hair back, which – she shouldn’t be nervous, right? She didn’t do anything wrong or sexual at all; she’d slept on Alder’s couch without Alder even on it with her.
Still, she breathed a sigh of relief when Raelle announced, “It’s… not shiny.”
Tally straightened, pulling on her uniform jacket, before she turned to face her sisters. “See? I slept in her office. Nothing more.”
They let it be for approximately five more minutes, until they were hurrying to Mothertongue, before Abigail muttered, “I’m just saying, Tal, that she’s… you know, like three hundred and fifty years old and counting, so I wouldn’t necessarily put your young, fertile eggs in her basket. She’ll steal your youth. Literally, she did.” Abigail needled Tally’s side. “I’ve been around enough that I’ve seen tons of young witches discover their sexual awakening through Alder. It’s a lot to have to watch with my own eyes with you going through it, too.”
She didn’t have to stretch the imagination to imagine that was true. “She gave my youth back,” she pointed out.
Raelle bumped her shoulder into Tally’s. “Ah, that’s the distinction you took from that.”
“Yep. And,” she added as they hurried down the hall, “She’s three hundred and forty-six.”
“Ew,” the both emphatically chorused.
“And,” she insisted to the both of them, muttering so they weren’t overheard. “I’m not… putting my eggs in her basket.” She wrinkled her nose at the metaphor. “So, yes, maybe I’m attracted to her. But that’s not why I like to talk to her! It’s not… some sort of fantasy playing out in my head,” she settled on.
They both scoffed.
But, “I’m serious,” she insisted, because she was. “I’m not going to Alder’s office like some lovesick puppy. I’m not thinking she’s about to profess some sort of love for me; I’m not even hoping for that.”
And – all right, Tally truthfully had never even let herself imagine that, really. And maybe just saying it aloud did give her a bit of butterflies, but – still.
“I just – I like talking to her.”
She didn’t know how else to say it. That talking to Alder and spending time with her, learning more about her, was this whole other thing for Tally. Something she’d never experienced, but it didn’t mean it had to be romantic.
The looks on both Raelle and Abigail’s faces disagreed with her.
//
Tally nearly twisted her ankle as she hopped up from the table they were sitting at during lunch when she saw Alder walk by. “I just – be right back!”
And, honestly, she didn’t know why exactly she was seeking Alder out, as she was walking purposefully in the direction of her own office. Presumably back from whatever meetings she’d had all morning. Maybe in General Bellweather’s office?
The fact that Tally had that knowledge, though, that Alder had left her that note, the one that she still had safely tucked under her pillow before Raelle and Abigail had accosted her. She’d felt – odd? Bad? Something? About leaving Tally alone in her office, clearly. She’d set an alarm for Tally to avoid missing class. She… cared, enough to tell Tally of her whereabouts, even though they were certainly not Tally’s business.
S.A.
It, and a full night of sleep, had kept Tally’s energy pretty boundless all morning.
“General Alder!” She called out, just hedging on breathless as she caught up. For all Alder had her biddies following her around, she walked at a clip.
She could sense Alder’s surprise at Tally approaching her outside of their typical evenings, even before she slowed to a complete stop and turned around. Her eyebrow was arched in question as she looked Tally over. “Cadet Craven.”
That kind of stopped Tally in her tracks for a second, because – yeah, Alder really hadn’t called her that in months. And she sort of missed the sound of Tally on her lips.
It was enough to have her reaching up to rub uncomfortably at the back of her neck. “I – I just wanted to…” She hadn’t a clue what she’d wanted to do. She’d wanted to see Alder, to talk to her, for some reason, about anything.
Yeah, she was approaching that point of starting to feel like an idiot.
“I guess I just wanted to say, thank you. For letting me stay and sleep. I mean, you could have woken me up, I–”
She cut herself off, only realizing what it sounded like as Alder looked around them, a careful eye for eavesdropping ears.
They were alone, bar for the biddies, though, and the General Alder-ness of her softened ever so slightly into the person Tally had come to recognize in the last few months as she tilted her head. “I didn’t realize you were sleeping until I went to join you, and then, it seemed almost criminal to disturb you when you were finally able to get some rest.” She lifted both of her eyebrows, looking almost… proud? “And I believe it was the right decision; you slept through the night. Soundly, I might add.”
Tally blinked for a few seconds at the words, because it almost sounded like… “Did you watch?”
Alder’s jaw clenched, and she swore she could see a faint blush on her cheeks. “That would have been both odd and inappropriate; no. I simply worked, at my desk.”
Yeah, none of that was stopping the feeling that slid through Tally, warm and unstoppably soft. “You didn’t go to bed?”
Alder looked down at her uniform, carefully smoothing her hand over her lapel that definitely didn’t need to be smoothed. “I wanted to ensure I was available if something happened. I’m not sure if you recall, but the last time you were sleeping for longer quantities of time, you were waking with sometimes debilitating injuries.”
Tally’s slow smile took over, though, and she just beamed at Alder, that warmth she so often felt toward her sliding through her again. This was what she meant – no, it wasn’t a friendship like Abigail and Raelle, but it was something else entirely, and –
And it was gone only moments later.
“I suppose tonight you should be able to sleep at a reasonable time in your bunk; it seems we may have worked through much of what troubled you.”
Disappointment shot through Tally and she blinked up at Alder to process what she’d said for a few seconds. “Right. I guess I should.”
And the disappointment was absolutely fucked up, because this was the whole point. To be able to actually sleep, to have enough connection to Alder and her thoughts and memories, that Tally was able to rest with them and blend them as if they were her own – that had been the goal.
Alder pursed her lips, before nodding at Tally, a sharp movement. “Yes, well. I should be getting back to my office; I have a teleconference with the Hague.”
“Yeah, of course.” Tally stepped out of the way, still noting, though that Alder was informing Tally of her whereabouts, as if Tally really had any right to know.
She tried to cling to that, even as the mourning of their nights together started to bleed in.
It only dug a little deeper when Alder nodded at her, the same one she gave to everyone else in the hall. “Have a good day, Craven.”
Ouch.
//
She figured maybe she should have seen it coming, from that conversation.
Tally was shaping up to be one of the most powerful Knowers in decades, and yet she had no idea what situation she was walking into the following night as she stepped into Alder’s office.
Alder glanced at Tally as she closed the door behind her, and Tally couldn’t mistake the confused set of Alder’s eyebrows even if she tried.
“Everything okay?” She asked as she made her way to the couch.
“It’s fine,” Alder spoke slowly, before stopping Tally in her tracks. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh… we usually meet on Thursdays?” She waved her notebook around in the air. In fact, they hadn’t not met on a Thursday since the very beginning of this, months ago, now.
Alder stared at it, and then slid her gaze back to Tally’s face, as she interlocked her fingers on her desk. “Did you have trouble sleeping last night?”
Confusion settled in as Tally slowly shook her head. “No? Actually, two nights of regular sleep in a row has been kind of amazing.”
And she wanted to tell Alder more about it. Much like she would have if this had been a life update even just last week.
But last week, Alder wasn’t looking at her like she didn’t belong here. In fact, Alder hadn’t given her that look, like Tally was someone who was invading the private sanctity of her office rather than someone who was invited here regularly… maybe ever? Not since the first night when she’d barged into the office without permission.
Even then, though, Alder’s eyes weren’t cool like the way they were, currently. Everything about her just screamed reserved, in a way that Tally realized she’d become so unused to, here. Between them.
“We did discuss yesterday how you should be sleeping in your bunk while you are able to, correct?” Alder asked, her jaw set, and…
The look on her face and the tone of her voice – it wasn’t cold or harsh, but it was impersonal. In a way it hadn’t been in so long. And that feeling cut through Tally, cutting her off at the knees.
“I mean, yes. But I thought – I assumed you just meant for last night?”
Alder rolled her lips, before she turned her chair and pushed herself to stand. Her back was to Tally for several moments, before she nodded softly and turned around. “I believe that for as long as it appears we have resolved your sleep issue, these… meetings of ours should stop.”
Tally’s stomach bottomed out entirely. “What?” Her voice was so faint, she felt like she could hardly hear it herself. “Why?”
Alder’s shoulders drew up so strong and proud, her hands behind her back in perfect stance – but it was wrong. Everything about having military precision between them now, was wrong.
It was wrong now that their times together were late nights and warm fires and personal stories and rich laughter and comforting touches and a shared Yule tradition.
“Tally,” she bit off, breathing out a sigh. “Cadet Craven, what we are doing here could be construed as… inappropriate. And we – I – need to ensure we do not cross any boundaries.”
Tally flinched back as if she’d been slapped. “Inappropriate? You’re the one who said that there were no clear rules around this.”
“Around my assisting you in recovering enough of my own memories so that your mind is able to properly process and regain nights of rest. Which we have done, and we should both be proud of that fact.”
She shook her head as the knots in her stomach tied themselves so tightly, she thought she was going to be sick. “But – it’s more than that. We have more than that.”
There was a desperate insistence in her words that she couldn’t take back, because it was real.
And then her heart hammered in her chest at the stillness in the room after she spoke.
Alder’s jaw clenched as she drew herself up. “That statement is exactly why we need to stop these meetings now that the issue is resolved.”
“But… you said you liked our – meetings,” Goddess, she didn’t like calling them that. She didn’t know what exactly else she would call them, but meetings felt too lackluster, too weak, to their evenings together. “You like it and so do I, so why do we have to stop?” She could feel her face heat up, her nerves tangled, as she quickly tried to talk herself out of whatever implications came from that bomb just waiting to be stepped on. “Just because we’re becoming friends, it doesn’t necessarily mean we’re crossing boundaries or–”
“That is exactly what it means,” Alder cut her off. Her voice was quiet but firm, and more commanding than anything anyone else could say at any louder volume.
“I should not have spent Yule with you or created the bonfire. Or asked you to share with me the details of your life. Or argued with the Imperatrix on your behalf. I am your commander, Craven.” Alder looked at her as though she were inviting Tally to disagree with her.
Which, obviously she couldn’t. And, Goddess, why did Craven feel so awful now?
“Therefore, these personal moments should never come between us. A friendship formed here is inappropriate, and I let it go too far. That is on me. As such, it is also on me to ensure our relationship remains as it should be.”
“As it should be?” She echoed, her voice just above a croak in her throat.
Because this – it felt more for Tally like everything was falling apart. Like she’d had her entire foundation shaken months ago, when she’d been so disillusioned by Alder and the Spree and had then, in a whirlwind, become a biddy, and then un-biddied – so much of Tally’s solid foundation shook loose and unsteady.
And she’d rebuilt it all here, right here, with Alder in the comfort of these walls, with the comfort of this person.
This person who was everything, every facet of humanity, and Tally got to see them all, but – now it was being all taken away?
It didn’t feel like it was as it should be to Tally, not at all.
It felt unjust and unfair and so wrong, it carved out an ache inside of her. But if she said any of that, didn’t it just confirm whatever Alder had said?
Alder cleared her throat, aiming a look at Tally, as she spoke softly, “Dismissed, Craven.”