In some ways, it was like a dream that she was standing in the kitchen of her family home. And if it felt that way to Molly, it definitely had to feel that way to Charity. Having her mother choose to keep contact via hands on shoulders was far better than the usual reaction to testing for being awake or for dreaming. Getting pinched, anywhere, was never really very fun, and tended to hurt depending on how hard to the other person pinched. It may have been a while, but she remembered the strength in her mother’s hands quite well, and felt it for the best that the pinching was given a miss.
Of course, had it been a dream, she’d have been able to just say what she was doing, with no worry whatsoever, because it wouldn’t have been real. Perhaps in her dream, Charity would say something offhanded, like, “Oh, that’s nice. Say hi to Lea for me.” Molly found herself really really hoping that her mother had no idea who Auntie Lea was, even as she struggled to find a vague enough description of what she actually did that wouldn’t raise too many questions.
Harry was a wizard. And a Warden. Okay. They technically still worked together, even if her missions tended to be more solo. Again, not unusual in wizard circles. This could be used. Just because the Doom had never officially been lifted didn’t mean jack at this point.
“I, uh… tend to be a little more subtle than Harry.” That was an understatement! “So, I have been off to various, extremely unexotic locations, doing a little of this and a little of that. Some reconnaissance here, a little gathering of the forces there, sometimes even a daring rescue or two.” She smiled a little at that, remembering how she first came into contact with the svartalves. “Mostly just things that need to be done, that really no one else can do.” She shrugged lightly, trying to play it off as being casual. “Things are getting really weird out there, and someone has to do it.”
Charity’s eyebrows furrowed. She and Michael knew there was something Molly wasn’t telling them. Charity had hoped this might have broken the secrecy a little bit. It hadn’t, and Charity sighed softly. She rubbed Molly’s shoulders.
“It worries us that you won’t tell us what your real job is, Molly. We’re scared you’ll get hurt, or worse, and we would have no idea. I assume there are some things you can’t tell us because of the Council. They’ve always been into secrecy and intrigue,” she said that while rolling her eyes. “But just know... no matter what it is, Molly, we love you.”
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