Novella flinched, as the dagger was dug into the wood beside of her head. She could practically smell the metal. And despite everything — all of her training — she still flinched. Our family. Our child. Our slaves. You told me once, what's yours is also mine. Though, her thoughts still wander back to the harsh words her wife had let slip; how their daughter would present with magic and be a useful member of society because of it.
In the next moment; when she was told to shut up, she bit her lip. The two of them were still newly-weds; their honeymoon period ruined by an early pregnancy and betrayal. Neither of them knew the other; and Kaczor knew even less of the real Novella, than she suspected. Something in her, too used to following orders, keeps her silent.
At least until the blade's removed from the wall. Pressed to her wife's throat, deep enough to draw blood. Kaczor's asking for a reason—no amount of training would have prepared Ella for this. She was staring at her wife, fingers curling into fists behind of her back.
Kaczor— She stumbled over her words, You were gone. And I'd tried, I begged them to let me recant... the best I could do, was get leeway so that I wouldn't be alone when the baby came. That was why they'd come, as soon as they'd confirmed the child's birth. It was either that or turn myself-in-as-an-enemy-of-the-state. Her words are rushed, tumbling into each other, overlapping.
And there are no second chances. Not for me. And yet, her desperation in this moment was over the fact her wife was holding a dagger to her own throat. I'm here because... a wise man once told me, to always keep my eye on retirement.
She bit her lip. Internally, debating if she wanted to retire with a spouse that acted out this way. But something wasn't right; something about this didn't feel right. None of the files she'd read on Kaczor, mentioned a possession, but she knew she had to have one; all mages had one. I want my daughter to have a better life, especially if she's like me. I'm here because I want to help. One hand reached out, fingers curling around the other's wrist.
Stop this. You're going to get blood on Annie. Her voice cracked, as she said the child's name. Still quiet, still fast asleep. Safe despite her parents' arguing, the desperation in her mother's voice.
The Mage's face was twisted up, as if there were some sort of internal fight happening inside the woman, before he finally relented, it was the baby that, in the end, had Kazcor the victor as the spell blade came away from her throat and vanished back down into the forearm sheath in a well practiced movement. Explain. Plainly, Ella, I'm far too gone into anger to be bandied around with pretty words.
And that wasn't even the half of it. The truth way that the demon had slipped the leash, the careful leash that Kaczor normally had, but when it came to Ella, to Annie, the mage couldn't help the more passionate side of her nature, how that passion ran the gamut from good to better, and then the opposite into yhe absolute worst she had to offer. [qMaker damnit Ella, you're not saying after all this time you've flipped allegiances and..[/q]
Kaczor stopped talking her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she felt her body tremble. I came out of that hell hole and decided I was done with this if it meant I kept you and the baby safe. And now you're telling me I've spent the last few weeks not knowing where you stood, and you've been there on the right side the entire time.. Czora didn't know if she wanted to bawl or smack herself for not catching the words sooner. So plainly, please, Ella. Where are we standing, you and me?
Novella's eyes followed the blade, flitting to the infant in the others arms. You became more than just an assignment. Her voice was an edged sword; the words sharp, punctuated.
She reached out to cup her wife's cheek, fingers gentle. Wasn't sure if the re-education took or not. She murmured, withdrawing her hand when Kaczor asked where they stood.
I'm going to stay, at this party. And once this party is over, I'm going home. Alone. She crossed her arms, still in the corner where she'd been made to go. You can have Annie tonight. You'll go to your parents. It was harsh; likely harsher than her wife needed after what appeared to be a suicide attempt. The second in just a few days.
I'll come by for breakfast. And we'll figure out where we stand, when there's no alcohol in either of our systems. She murmured, finally slipping past her wife.
Kaczor's eyes flicked to the side, when that suspicion was confirmed. Well it didn't, I was in there, with my assignment.. finding a way to beat it and get back to my wife and daughter.
She nuzzled her face down next to Annie's and went to grab her wife's wrist to stop her, when someone arrived into the alcove to tell Kaczor it was time to speak.
***
She bounced on her feet, since Annie had woken up midway through the talk, right as she had been explaining the way they used psychological torture, but that most of it was, just that, lies. She had been able to confirm that, and then the rest was a matter of orientating one's self to time, and space, not letting the darkness, nor the lies break them down, but remembering exactly how to keep track of the time, which was the most important part -- total darkness could and would feel like a few seconds, to weeks, if one didn't remain calm, and use methods to keep track. Counting, breaths -- Kaczor had tried and found several methods that had worked for her while she was in there. She looked at Ella the entire time she spoke, keeping track of her in the room, before she handed over the paperwork she had drawn up the last few nights and had hidden in her secret vault. She was eager to get out before all of those eyes and back to the side of the woman she'd fallen in love with along the way.
She had to catch her before she slipped off, even if she knew exactly where she was going. And besides, Kazcor knew she wouldn't make her parents from here. It was easier for her to try and make the town house.
So as soon as she was able, she was back, at Ella's side, her hand going to make a grab at her wife's wrist again, to stop her from bolting, because she'd be damned if she was going to let the woman leave without her. I had decided to give all this up, if you hadn't.. changed your mind. She whispered to the other woman as others moved around. I was going to be happy just being a wife if you hadn't changed your mind. I am not going to my parents. We're going where ever we go, together, and that's quite enough of anything otherwise, yeah? She waved to someone as they went by, an eyebrow arched as her full attention was back on Ella. And you know well enough that we need to have this talk now, not later, not when we've made up what ever excuses in our heads to feed one another. No we have this talk now, at home, between us, the real us because I'm telling you, I was willing to stop, for you, Ella. Knowing you're actually in this now, it changes everything.[/i]
Ella watched her wife on stage; pondering the statement '...with my assignment'. She knew Kaczor meant the imprisonment; which meant she'd known she was being reported. She'd orchestrated it? She'd said as much; how she forgave Ella as soon as she knew it was she who had turned her in. Why would you forgive someone, if they betrayed you — the question had been eating away at Ella's thoughts for days.
Now she understood.
She was silent, as her wife spoke on the torture tactics used. It'd seem they had not introduced Kaczor to the nicer methods; where one is tormented and then a kinder person is sent in to soothe their ills. It was a harsher punishment, in Ella's experience. It gave people hope.
She'd turned to leave, when the speech was ending. She'd bring up the more pleasant types of tortures later. At another meeting. If she decided to attend again. There was a sour taste in her mouth; despite the fact she should be pleased, the re-education had not taken.
Her wife had not changed. But she had; she'd become harsher, quicker to anger, quick to act on her emotions. And... whatever the fuck that stunt earlier had been, left a gut-wrenching feeling at her core.
She was grabbed, and stopped walking but did not turn to face her. You would never have been happy just being a wife. She murmured, staring at the door. She knew people were watching; expecting a happy couple only to find a pair rife with anger and upset. One refusing to acknowledge the other, one desperate to keep the other there with them.
Fine, you can come home. Tonight. I'll take a guest room. Because she didn't want to deal with Annie, in case she had a restless night. She wanted more alcohol; hell, she might even want a line of something more illegal. It wasn't often she imbibed; though her alcohol tolerance had risen during her wife's absence, but that's not something she's acknowledging at the moment.
I'm not here for you. I'm here for me. She murmured, pulling free of her wife's grasp. And I'm not sure that you're here for me, either. We were better when we were just each other's assignments, right? That's what I was, at first?
Kaczor didn't care if anyone was watching, in the moment, there was only Ella. If it's as your wife, it would have been enough. She took a deep breath and shook her head.And no, We're not sleeping in separate rooms any more. We're going to work this out before. I will force this Ella. I can't have [i]him[i] and you both mad at angry at me.. one another.. us. Fuck. She frowned as she reached again for Ella's hand, watching as the last of the others filed out and they were left there alone in the cellar. At first, yes. A means to an end. A way to get myself caught. But over your pregnancy with Annie, and the time in prison, it became more.
She wanted to address the other of it, but she wasn't sure if Ella would listen at this point, and she didn't feel quite like herself with her short hair and black clothing. It'd be easy to lie and say the mission was the all of it, but it never was, not after.. she chucked a little, leaning her cheek down on Annie's little head, breathing in the scent of their baby. At Camille's place, you asked if we couldn't afford silk and muslin for me to tear off you, all innocent like. After that it was hard not to be in love with you. She hated how the last few weeks had gone, how abusive and manipulative it felt. If you still want me here beside you, I will be.
Ella was watching everyone file out, and sucked on the inside of her cheek. My Commander told me not to get so involved that I couldn't cut ties. She murmured, finally turning to look at her wife. He told me to enjoy it, make the assignment enjoyable. But to stay distant emotionally.
A long sigh, as she finally turned to face her spouse. I... was playing a part. The woman you fell in love with, she was fake. It hurt to admit that the demure, innocent girl she had been had been a lie; though not everything had been a lie — Ella had never had sex prior to Kaczor.
It hurt to admit, because Novella didn't know who she was. Though, she had discovered bits about herself in her time with Kaczor. I researched, and I learned everything you hated. And I became someone you'd want. She stated, quietly, gaze averted to the floor.
I... do not know who I am, she murmured, attempting to pull away from her wife. And I do not know what I want. Mal gave her the illusion of freedom, but it was easier when she knew she didn't have it. Freedom created hope which created doubt.
Kaczor listened to it all, holding her breath with each line, each line sinking deeper and deeper into the depths, and pulling Kaczor down with them. If He hadn't been there to put the little whispers into her brain, to caution her that this may also be lies, to prepare her to fight, because as much as the demon along for the ride hated to admit it, his host was a much more powerful conduit when it was happy and the child and the wife made the host happy. So if it came to it, He, Orion, would take back over for this part if he needed too, but, he'd sit there and wait to see what would happen first.
You don't mean that. You wouldn't have stayed then, when I told you you could go. And that was that, So some part of you, somewhere in there, must want this, because the moment you could have fled you would have if you didn't want this. At least didn't want Annie, didn't want something more than what you've had in the past. You fought me... when I came home. You fought against what I said, what I tried to make you think that it would be a ... fucking household that I'd hate because I needed you to believe the conditioning had took. You would have left, if you didn't know what you wanted.
She turned Ella towards her again, gently, giving her ample opportunity to shake the touch off, or to flee, but in hopes of pulling her into a hug, to hold her close, to kiss her forehead, to show her the affection that had always been there. I didn't fall in love with you because it was easy, Ella, I fell in love because you challenged me, and in a weird way, made me better. Even if it was just an assignment, a mission. I fell in love because you're worth it to me.
Ella bit her lip, listening silently. She was right — if she hadn't wanted this, hadn't wanted them on some level, she'd have fled after that first week.
And then she was being turned around, chin tilted upwards so that Kaczor could press a kiss to her forehead; and it's at that moment that her wife would see silent tears. How do we reconcile when you don't know me? She murmured, brushing her palms across her eyes, catching tears before they could fall.
You don't know me. I don't know me. What's real? What's fake? She was pulled into a hug, now, and buried her face against the other woman's chest. I only know the structure of having an assignment, of being assigned who to be.
It was too much information. Malachai would be disappointed in her. She was convinced of crushing disappointment; from her father-figure, from her wife.
We do it together, yeah? She leaned down and pressed a tender, chaste kiss to her wife's lips, her hands going to cup her cheeks, to search those eyes she knew so well. I know, that you had a bad surgery in your youth, to get rid of your wings, and that the scars used to hurt you. I know that, you lost your cute stutter and halting way of talking about a week into us knowing one another. She kissed Ella's forehead as she pulls her closer, holding her gently, with Annie there between them. I know that sometimes you snort in your sleep, as if you giggle at something in a dream, and then grin after. That you talk to Annie like she understands you, same as me. I know you wanted a garden, and you genuinely seem to love that garden, since you kept it up the entire time I was in prison.
She paused, I know that you beg me to fuck you at times, and it's sweet music to my ears. And then leaned down to take another chase kiss. And if I could do it again properly, I'd marry you again, for real this time, no mission, no assignment, Kaczor and Ella. So if you can't remember who you are, or are having trouble finding yourself, I'll remember for the both of us.. until you can remember on your own again.
Silence, at first. None of what Kaczor was listing felt like she knew the real Novella; whoever that was... But the things she listed off were true. Facts. Even if some of them were only facts insofar as the scope of their marriage. Facts.
And these facts calmed her down. Chaste kisses, reminiscent of their first week together, before she'd been so bold. She leaned back, slightly, Will you do it all again? Properly? She tilted her head, red-rimmed eyes searching; as if she were searching for her own soul within her wife's gaze.
We... should go home. There's no playfulness to her words; but tiredness where a playful tone might lurk. Exhaustion, if she was being honest with herself (and she wouldn't be).
Would you want to do it again, proper like? A real courtship, a new ring, a new ceremony? We can't wind the clock back on the sex or our child, but if you want, if you need it Ella, to find you, to find us again, in a heartbeat, I would do it again. This kiss was a little less chaste, a little more in line for the utmost passion she felt for the other woman, everything funneled into that kiss. Let's go home, to bed, and tomorrow we'll wake up with what we know about one another now, and we'll go from there. And if you forget, you ask, and I'll tell you what I know.
She reached down and took her wife's hand, fingers lacing with hers, and brought their joined hands up to kiss Ella's hand. Allow me to escort you home, Lady Ella, I think the hour is catching up to the both of us.
