Self-styled world's greatest Shade x Farley shipper. Sideblog of @evangelineartemiasamos . Find me on AO3 Open for your criticism and praise, people. Complain if I wrote non-sense. And fyi my icon is a selfie^^
Red Queen Fan Fiction - The Flowers of Piedmont Part 4
May 13th - Happy Birthday, Diana Farley
A/N 1: I'm finally here! Unless I write an epilogue, this is the conclusion to this cozy, indulgent series. Mild sexual content. Spice rating 2,5/5 (I guess)
Part 1
Interlude
Part 2
Part 3
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
8300 words
Part 4
May 30th – Flowering
Diana Farley had never curbed her ambitions. Her wanting was far-reaching and denying herself would never achieve anything. She knew better. Once, she’d cut off her emotions and starved for it, had learned the difference it made to embrace them. Consequently, when she refrained, it was an investment in greater results.
She demanded to win, and this day promised victory.
Her smirk grew so wide her lips grazed over her teeth. She chewed on them, sucked in her breath, facing Shade as her cheeks burned from her own innuendo. She was stunned she’d said it, dared to request it in so filthy words which yielded the desired effect.
She held her living daughter in her arms, had just concluded the meeting where she resumed a general’s position, and asked Shade for the present he’d promised her months ago, in almost a different life. The wait was worth it, for now, letting him explore and taste every corner of her skin had gained a special meaning, one she craved to add to the climax they’d seek.
“I’ve promised,” Shade breathed, and finally recovering from his stupor, he grasped her arm, moving them ahead. Mischievously, she quite enjoyed how Clara occupied her arms, so her eyes, her words and her face were her limits in their interaction.
“You mean that porch,” Shade muttered. She thought that obvious and left that hanging until his frown claimed an answer.
“Yes,” she replied. There must be many options to ignite passion, in fact, but she’d grown fond to the overgrown, flowery porch. The perfect embodiment of the fantasy he’d described back then. Shade was tense but also aflutter, as his twitching fingers proved, stunned and thrilled. She almost giggled at riling him up this way. He chewed his own lip with impatience as they brought Clara to his parents.
“Now?” he inquired and she threw him a glance that should speak for itself. She already told him there were no other plans for today. She intended to crown this day. Maybe perfection was too much to expect yet she had confidence for them both.
“Do you want me?” she asked.
He stumbled in reaction before he walked on, cackling. “Like you aren’t fully aware I’m excited for it,” he admitted and stared at her. “Only question is if I meet your standards, madam.”
She blinked, knowing that despite her displayed determination, her flush had never vanished. “You have the most excellent stats, Lieutenant Barrow.” She hadn’t doubted his lust for real, having noticed his looks of bridled desire he’d flashed at her the last weeks, as if the good-willed restraint rather intensified it.
A promisingly dirty smile danced on his mouth. “Be ready, General,” he growled as they approached his family’s home, “when you work-out again, I’ll chase you mercilessly. No more ‘I hate jumping’, but training exactly that.”
She turned to him, her hands still full with Clara. “I look forward to it,” she said quietly, dismissing how unpleasant that would be. She hid it by gazing at her sleeping baby while passion simmered in her eyes. “It’s a challenge to be chased by you.” She looked up. “A worthy one.”
Shade’s mother Ruth took Clara eagerly but Farley delivered a detailed explanation for why she and Shade required “time alone” nonetheless. The little stress Farley put on the two words, the way Ruth blinked and Shade’s lids twitched – she felt it, she could’ve sworn – it revealed the filthy truth well enough. Yet Farley couldn’t help herself, she wanted to cover-up, despite the transparency of them, because of it, and went on about triple-checking observations Shade had reported, to implement – Shade provided that term – the proposals he’d made to remedy these issues.
The whole time she spoke, his gaze burned into her back with the amusement of disguising their sex plans to his mother, the anticipation he must feel, that she herself had stirred. As great as she felt in her fancy clothes, she couldn’t wait for him to take them off. She’d drunken in Shade’s astonishment at finding her all styled-up at the meeting where they quarrelled over the Kingdom of the Rift and the possible alliance.
With dedication, Shade made clear he liked her in any outfit, admiring her also in the last, most unkempt days, yet she as much as she’d put on the tight and crisp attire to feel more upright for the gathering, she also enjoyed to catch him off his feet, to surprise him as he did her.
He did it often enough, knowingly. She’d have a private meeting in their suite, unofficial yet, when he’d appear in a corner, sometimes just for her to notice him, sometimes to impress her guest, presenting himself as her ghostly left-hand man, maybe the general’s shadowy personal assassin.
He was aware how she was the one impressed when he wordlessly intimidated people with his ability. The most blatant times were when just she could see him appear and he had Clara in his arms.
It did unspeakable things to her.
When he showed himself so dangerous, so protective and caring with their daughter, she couldn’t even begin to finds words for it. That desire. She doubted he bothered with these performances cluelessly but in the weeks since the birth, he had not said anything about love-making, not since her decline on her birthday.
Following her request to share her bed, he laid stonily beside her unless she cuddled him. Was he afraid that kissing each other into sleep would lead to intimacy she wasn’t ready for? Soon she grasped that sleep won over them both, overtaking any prompt of hers until today. Actually, it was simply easier to tend to Clara if they didn’t have to disentangle themselves and if Shade laid like a stone, it was because he slept like one, exhausted as he was.
Well, back then she hadn’t been ready, indeed, but she had imagined touching him, delighted by the surprised face he’d make at the offer, by what pleasure she could elicit out of him if he let her. She almost regretted having missed the chance.
Now, General Farley should be able to hide it all that. Better decipher how trustworthy Premier Davidson was and which ulterior motives were behind his bringing up the Samos kingdom. She wasn’t to show her private emotions, her lust, in any way. Yet when Shade showed up, during her meetings, or right now with Ruth, she wanted to tease back. Her legs couldn’t keep still, she would tuck at her curls, draw circles with the tips of her boots, shift her weight. Oddly counterproductive, she delayed the fulfilment by only prolonging her conversation to Ruth.
“Shade keeps track of my work but then I’m just returning the favour” – Farley threw him a glance – “because he supports me so well on my first day back.”
Ruth patted Farley’s arm. “He really grew up into a man to be proud of,” Ruth said, and Farley heard him snort but her attention sprung to Clara when Ruth held her with only one arm. Shade managed this feat, too, but Farley would not dare. Unbelievable how handy he was with the baby.
Ruth grinned at Farley’s alarm, the instinctive protectiveness, and patted her again. (It was almost mocking.) Farley’s hand fell on Clara, not just securing but also caressing.
Sometimes, it came simply over her. She could leave the room with Clara behind, to accomplish things, to settle the future, in the knowledge she was safe, fed and with someone to care for her. Often, it was easy. Relieving. And other times, she wanted nothing but hug her close for hours, be unbothered by the boredom of breastfeeding, and engraving every millimeter of Clara into her mind before grew out of it.
She looked up to Ruth who gave Clara back to her. Farley lifted the baby, her breathing going heavy. “I love you,” she whispered into Clara’s ear. “Have a good time with Grandma.”
It struck her she didn’t have to clarify which grandmother. Ruth wasn’t so different from Clara Farley. They were confident, capable, caring women, tough in protecting and raising their children. Aware that Shade hated her father, she also knew how quickly the force of pain could change you. The better she knew the Barrows, the more similar she thought their families. Both struggled against silver rule, ready to rise up, enduring the wounds inflicted. For Daniel Barrow, they were visible. Bree and Tramy joked over them while Shade shifted between sunshine, fury and menace. Mare, on the other hand, was still crawling out of the cage Maven locked her in.
There was one thing that set Ruth and her mother apart though – her mother had been a fighter, too. Farley could guess she wouldn’t be the same if her mother had lived, might not have given her daughter that name and yet, she wished for her mother to advise her on this one matter: how to be a fighter and a mother.
Command had accepted her pregnancy although offering no reassurance or sign they truly understood the position she was in after the birth. They were older than her, and expected her to continue as before. Families weren’t something shared unless necessary as in her case, not even among officers or generals, apart from the time they made her father narrate their loss to recruit more operatives.
Clara Farley hadn’t born a child while in service to the Scarlet Guard, nor had any one she knew, and still she yearned for her, and still it was out of the possible. To be inspired by her loving, gorgeous, brave mother was the next best option.
Farley was in unchartered territory and had to restrict how much she let that daunt her. If she had to be the first general to give birth, she had to forge her own way. Their survival depended on asking for things that felt presumptuous. She couldn’t want too much when this was on the line. She kissed Clara’s brow. “Papa and Mama want to have a good time, too,” she told her quietly before giving her over.
She took up the front. Farley walked ahead, finding the way back to the porch by herself but avoiding shortcuts to extend the thrill of having Shade watch her back. She couldn’t have described all corners and turns along the path but she remembered where to go and trusted herself. She often felt this way lately, hesitating with words while her intuition, knowledge and assurance were as firm as ever. She was feared for her sharp tongue yet her mami brain was faster than her mouth. She had to train to not let it show when she was in search for words as her mind kept spinning, connecting and inventing avidly, expectant of action.
She relied on it, her faith in herself, her skills and the new strength and experiences motherhood and Clara gave her and she would not step away from, nor be ashamed from the change it was to before.
The swift walk excited her, the longest she had taken yet, having limited herself to slow promenades and stretching the last days. It had been irritating to go without the weight of a baby at first. She tested herself, always noting her reshaped, readjusting body.
Shade had been so tender, almost too much, looking the other way, waiting for her to bare herself. She no longer wanted tender, she wanted indulging.
Everything reminded her of that desire. Around her, the plants had grown even larger and greener, new flowers and their fragrances added to those from two weeks ago. It seemed so little change compared to herself. Tempting as it was so liken nature’s fertility to her own, it felt completely other. Dainty petals and sweet, fresh smells implied ease and cleanliness nothing like the great and bloody effort of childbirth. Still, either heightened her senses, the intensity of the flowers making her want to bloom.
At the porch, she tapped against the doorframe and glanced over her shoulder invitingly. Shade was gone. Of course. Finally, he had the chance to play this trick on her again. She almost did not startle (stress on almost) when he appeared right inside the spotlight where the sunshine fell in, asking her to appreciate his beauty as the pollen-filtered golden afternoon light both illuminated him and outlined his silhouette.
Until he jumped over to examine a cabinet. She bit her lip, waiting, watching as he brought forth cloths to cover the furniture, grinning at her. “I had all this prepared two weeks ago,” he said and her heart throbbed. Jumping again, his hand patted her hips in passing and sent a shiver prickling over her. She breathed in, smelling lilac, wisteria and wood.
At last she grasped the appeal of the place. For years, she had no time for beauty, for the flowers besides the roads or the lavish gardens of the silvers. Yet flowers and nature were her home, long lost and gone. A Lakelands village persisting on farming and woods, green and growing things were part of everyday life, the center of their work and duties. Flowers, even grown for selling, were a solace among hardships, sometimes a remedy. They were the past and grief she’d left behind a path of action and now she found flowers in a casket she wanted to unlock.
She swallowed. Unlocking indeed, because this base left her skittish and suspicious, aware this place was no more one to stay in than any other base. Yet she’d born a child here, had to trust in its security for it, and for this afternoon at least she was willing to be seduced by its vain beauty.
She knew it wasn’t meant to last.
She covered Shade’s hand, catching the moment. Catching his eyes.
He gasped in arousal, and she grinned, thrilled to achieve this.
Their desire silenced them. For half an hour, she’d enjoyed his eyes on her back as if chased and meeting them now, so close, was a turn she wasn’t aware she had built up to. She lifted his hand and kissed the knuckles of his pretty hand, smelling the honey soap on it. How to go on? So many little caring touches they’d exchanged yet now his breath on her skin was electrifying.
She brushed over his sleeve, lowering their joined hands and nuzzled his neck. “Will you …?” she began and recovering his determination and plans, he led her backwards to the table, until she sat on the edge of it.
His palms rubbed over her thighs, going down, and so did he. She took his chin as he was on his knees.
She fished in her pockets under his questioning gaze. “We have to be careful,” she said, dropping the protection she produced. “Sara explained I can’t be sure when my cycle is back on track.”
He kept looking, drawing circles on her leg. It eased the tension, and she groaned. “You understand this – pregnancy – can’t happen again so fast.” She gulped. “I’m daunted. By the whole hit on the first try thing. I’ve heard they have more birth control in Monfort. And I’ll inquire more …” Her foot swayed, and he caught her ankle.
“We don’t have to do everything if you’re unsure,” he said. “I’ve only promised to taste you.” He winked, and of course she blushed. She could just agree, and offer to taste him, too. She wanted to, anyway. She also wanted more.
She grabbed his shoulder with demand. “No.” Her eyes focused on him. How she wanted this with him. To come, and come again. Condoms could not be that untrustworthy. And if she had to pester Sara with asking about the state of her cycle, or take an after pill like she’d recommended to Mare, so be it. “I don’t want to wait until visiting Monfort,” she declared, and now the heat ran over her body. “This has been a briefing but the plan stands.”
He pondered. Was he processing the not another pregnancy comment? That was very obvious, though, and amusement returned to his face. He pulled at her foot, hand on her ankle, and stretched her leg up. “We can be careful,” he agreed, and then he carefully undid the straps of her boots. How intense his touch was even with military boots between them. He threw the shoes off when he was done, the following landing sounds oddly satisfying.
He didn’t increase the pace. Sometimes, he’d look up, his eyeline right between her spread legs, directly in front of her vulva. Even fully clothed, it made her moan. And ever so slowly, he pushed up the seam of her trousers. Then shoved her sock down, so he encountered a centimeter of bare skin to caress.
It tickled her all over. When he shifted his position slightly higher, he kept her ankle but his other hand stroke up to her thighs, along with his head. He leaned closer, making her bend back. Now his fingers untucked her shirt for a strip of belly he could kiss, his lips in sync with the hitching up and down of her breathing. He’d done that before and it undid her every time.
Of course, her body had been different every time.
Still holding her ankle, he moved her leg so it bracketed him, the stretching another delightful tease. Panting, she brushed through his hair, along his neck. “Placing me on the table,” she murmured, “like I’m really something to eat?”
He smirked, letting go of her foot and fully untucking her shirt with both hands, revealing her waist. “No questions,” he chided, “birthday surprise.”
She let out a chuckle that turned into a moan as Shade continued to kiss and unpack her as if she were a present. Fingers massaged and traced over her sides, her ribs, up to her bra. She gasped. “Leave out the breasts,” she told him.
Looking up, he froze, then nodded. He dropped a kiss just below the central joint of her bra, moving down the middle of her belly. Her leg hugged him again without his help. He sucked along her ribcage so hard hickeys would bloom over it while his fingertips kept tickling, a teasing move going down to her trousers.
With his other hand, he pushed himself up, over her, with that promising smile on his face. As his palm pressed onto her hip, he bent down to her neck to find her necklace with his lips and played with the chain, chewed on it, and he covered the skin beneath with kisses. He created the phantom of a wreath of flowers along her collarbone. She grasped the back of his head and moaned, louder when his fingers found into her trousers, grazing her hip, brushing against the seams of her panties instead of finally removing them.
It was infuriating. Did this jerk rub his cock against the table instead of her –
He stilled. His head went up and he pulled back so rashly that she felt the cold of the moisture left by their friction. Her mouth opened in protest when he gestured. “Undress.”
She blinked, sitting up like sleepwalking. So it came down to this, in the end, he would still have her bare herself. Even if he ordered it. She snorted, glaring at him who stepped back like this was any common interaction. “You want to see another side of the general?” she asked sharply. “Watch me undo my steely façade?” He didn’t even need to move for his eyes to betray his sizzling expectation. Well, let’s try to exceed it.
She straightened her pose, held her head up and summoned the controlled, haughty professionality of the meeting although Shade had unravelled any remains of her carefully gathered attire. She jumped to get her trousers off her butt and unbuttoned her shirt, slowly, save one hole. With a rigid back, she sought his gaze. “Then look.”
She shoved and wriggled off the rest of the trousers that had hugged her so tightly before, then opened her shirt and let it fall off her shoulders.
Finally, that broke Shade’s stillness. Ravenously, he panted as he observed every motion of her.
The corner of her mouth twitched and she unclasped and threw off her bra. She breathed in deeply, feeling the air crisply on her sensitive and heavy breasts left free. Shade drank in the sight, wide-eyed, lips parting as he approached again. His palm grazed her thigh. She gulped, and met his face. “Will you …”
“Are you self-conscious about your body?” he asked.
She blinked. “No problem, it’s …” But his wonder was earnest. She cleared her throat. “I told you. But it’s not about how I look, or if you don’t like me …”
He cupped her cheek as if to comfort her. Did he not get it? Did she have to say it plainly?
Fuck me until I forget how I struggle with the changes of my body. Turn it into pleasure. Let us indulge.
“We did talk about that,” he agreed. He lifted her lowered chin, demanding her to listen. “I like you as you are. No matter what. I’ll find pleasure either way –”
“It’s not so simple,” she insisted, shifting away from his touch. “I felt like a burden being pregnant. I just wanted our baby, and how could that be wrong? But still I strayed from the role I was supposed to fulfil, made demands, shying away from jobs, and … and giving way too many people information about my love life.”
She rolled her eyes and found a second of amusement amid his bewilderment. He gets I didn’t like that. “And yes, I accepted it, did it all gladly to have Clara, and it was unfair, but the feeling was still real and I thought it’d be over one day and I could return to my work.
“But it doesn’t go away by talking, doesn’t go back to before. I want to be proud of having Clara, feel great, and powerful, yet all the time I notice I’m not.” She swallowed, remembering the pain flaring up at her first attempts to work-out, remembering how giving birth went so far beyond her expectations that after sleeping three days long, she was awed she made it through although she saw and felt the impact. She struggled against feeling a betrayal in her body, because it wasn’t one when it gave her exactly what she wanted – a living child – but it still had to rearrange and refocus itself after the demands it went through.
She looked up. “It’ll be slow. It’ll be difficult, and the result will be different and I have no fucking patience.”
Shade bristled. “Do you always ask for more? Can you never be satisfied with your efforts?” He leaned in again, reaching for her shoulders. “You are powerful, but power doesn’t come easily. You’ve been transforming all the time I’ve known you, in body and mind. I’ve watched it – loved it. You keep astounding me every day, Diana Farley, so why can’t you amazed by yourself –”
“Then make me satisfied with myself!” she demanded. She cocked her head. “There are many, many things to be furious about,” she said carefully. “That aren’t good enough. But being with you, Shade Barrow, is the opposite. What you give me is more than I ever expected.” Shaking, her fingers grasped fumbling at his shirt. “Clara is enough on her own, deserving all extra treatment I required for her. What I did was enough. I want to fight for the Guard, but it’s draining to have to prove myself all the time.” She pulled him closer. “I’ll get there. It won’t be easy or smooth, but I will. Show the silvers what the Scarlet Guard can do led by a mother. But let me have this, easy and smooth. Turn me to nothing but pleasure.”
By now, they were so near her legs circled him and their chests touched. Panting, they breathed in unison. His hands quivered on her shoulder; the pulse in her neck racing against his thumb. His lip trembled. “I’d scream it at them,” he rasped.
A smirk danced on her mouth. “It’s enough if you scream for me,” she said, “if you make me scream first.” And then she whispered that same lewd name from before into his ear. He startled with both shock and arousal. For making such a performance out of undressing her, he shed off his trousers and underwear with two moves, kicking off his shoes while her laugh reverberated as she helped him out of his shirt.
She remembered when Clara was born and exhilaration had laced itself into the pain. It hadn’t lasted, quickly replaced by love, relief and weariness. As Shade had phrased it, it had been powerful, and it hadn’t come easily.
This moment was neither, not power nor hardship. Sara’s healing had eased the tender soreness but left her body deceptively soft, merely its natural recovery sped up. For so long, she had carried a heaviness on her that still showed on her body but now she felt light, elevated, even more than by any lovemaking before. Having born and held their child, knowing she was happy and breathing, Farley could finally let go of worries.
When she moaned, she breathed in Shade’s honey soap smell as well as the scent of the flowers above and beside them. They traced intricate patterns over their bodies, in shadows that merged with Shade’s shadow as he kissed his way over her body, over her stretch marks mixed with battle scars.
He removed her panties centimeter by centimeter, with teeth, lips and fingertips, and her clit swelled with a pulsing thirst for release. She wanted him, wanted more, to prove how much she could stretch and clench for lust. When he reached the petals of her vulva, tucking and licking, she reached up, trying to catch the vines above her, sky-high, but the sky was where she was lifted into. She imagined pressing the flowers to her face as her nerves began to bloom and spread and alight all over her body like a storm.
Shade caught his breath before he heaved himself up. Smilingly, he prepared the protection as she called for more, impatiently, with a hazy but greedy post-coital grin. Purple stars and petals flashed before her eyes. She inhaled the blend of smells again, of bloom, Shade, and sex, while the shadow flowers and vines covered his body, just like hers, so when he entered her, they all fused into one.
Spread on the table, she shifted from her back to her side, studying the smallest effects of Shade’s elated climax. He seemed more awed than her, she observed smugly when he, on his back by her side, looked back, twinkling himself. He savoured her, first with his eyes, then with his fingers tracing her outlines like he’d never get enough from her.
She cocked her head proudly. “I felt that in my toes,” she declared with pretend shock. He grinned, pleased with himself, and at last recovered enough to raise himself up and kiss her thigh and clasped it with one hand.
“The wonders of the clit,” he marvelled, “with all those nerve endings, coming together.”
She grinned back, then reached for his chin and lifted it with her forefinger. “Don’t underestimate yourself. You made them connect.”
He tilted his head. “Better than you do?”
As if he asks for it. She pushed his chin higher and squinted in thought. “You could improve on your cock work.”
“Cock work?” He coughed, eliciting a laugh from her. “I usually refrain to approach this, but do you have the experiences to compare?”
Bold. But her low amount of sex partners was no secret. She raised an eyebrow. “I’m comparing the skills of your various body parts.”
“Do you keep stats?” His hand stopped for a second, then continued his strokes on her thigh only firmer.
The touch distracted her and she missed to answer, waiting for where his hand would go next, as if to display his prowess. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We have all room to improve.” She stared, letting him make assumptions first. “I’m always open for lessons on how to touch you.”
His thumb pressed into her. “I …” A shiver went over him. “Later,” he growled then, and leaned toward her to pull her upright, continuing to kiss along her collarbone, catching her necklace. The only thing she still wore. She chuckled in delight. Should she wear high-collared shirts to not invite questions about the love marks he was leaving?
She was slightly dizzy and played with his hair, now longer than hers and falling along his face. Stealing a kiss from her neck again, he took her breath away along with it, causing a choke that turned into laughter that grew only louder when he extended his efforts and lifted her off the table and tumbled them into a cozy armchair.
Although he’d done the work, she panted with him, holding tight to his shoulder and feeling his throbbing heartbeat. “That,” she said, “was indeed a new skill. Of your strength of arm?” She didn’t expect him to carry her – they were too similar in size, and she likely heavier than him.
He still fought for more air. “Yes,” he confirmed with sparkling eyes.
He was clasping her leg but she raised herself up from his lap to sit on the armrest. “Careful,” she reminded him, and he blushed deeper, then nodded, while his hand rested stuck under her knee. Maybe they should put on underwear again.
His head fell back. “Spent?” she asked. He squeezed her leg but stayed relaxed. Letting her watch him. She could track the scars on his brown chest, now long healed and a part of him. But she remembered the blood, pain and fear for his life they’d gone through when he suffered them. The scars were proof of his survival and endurance, of his risky endeavours, and now blended with the flowery shadows and the sunset light painting him in amber. Suddenly, she was envious she hadn’t covered him with her marks and she leaned forward to remedy it.
Once more, she tasted honey soap and salty skin, and recorded the sounds her tickling and kisses caused while his fingers ran patterns over her body until they reached her jaw and moved her face away.
Shade looked up again. “You said you can’t do this again yet,” he asked with a slight frown, “but do you want more children?”
She blinked, too astonished to be interrupted. And with this change of topic. It must have really drilled into his mind, although not now sounded a good enough answer to her.
“Clara is two weeks old,” she reminded him. “We still learn to get along with her. How to manage our, my work. Or my body …” She waved off, she’d talked long enough about that.
He tightened his touch on her jaw. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I understand that. I know. But if we managed all that, Dee? If we won, and there were no more threats?”
Hope burned in his eyes and she couldn’t tell if it was for victory or children.
Although it was such a serious topic, he seemed so young as he brought this up, maybe because to imagine perfect freedom and security for them was naïve.
But she loved that he could dream as big as this.
“Yes,” she admitted quietly. “If that was so, I’d want more children. But it’s not what we face.” She looked away. In fact, she wanted to avoid pregnancy so she didn’t have to decide whether to end one. She loved Clara with her whole heart, as she would any child she, they, had. That didn’t make it easily possible and she hated the idea to question whether they could afford to or had to refuse it because circumstances forced them. She faced him. “Do you?”
Despite having started this, the question stunned him. “I don’t know,” he confessed, and again, he seemed so young. He needed to know her opinion while his own was unclear.
Her pulse ran faster. He loved Clara so much, took care of her with dedication while he must still blame himself for his former insecurities: Likely, he dreaded the risk another child would bring. It was okay. “So,” she emphasized, “if it’s not now for me either, we’ll wait until you know?” She said it lightly, growing soft for his sake, and indeed, he lightened up, albeit his answering smile seemed rather forced.
Relieved, she swallowed her laugh. “But you can always tell me the boy name you picked any point,” she prompted but he remained utterly still.
She groaned. “If you seriously intend to keep it secret until we had a son, your stubbornness knows no bounds.” Finally, that stirred him but she stood up from the armchair and left him bereft.
Smiling over her shoulder to ease her move, she walked to glass door of the porch. With a sigh, she found her faint reflection on it, rosy skin reduced to paleness. Faint scars, gained weight, soft flesh around her hips and beneath, the reassigned parts she could not see but feel. Her fingertips tapped and traced over the glass. She had made herself feel alive, lit up, comfortable in her body – just as she wanted. A successful operation.
But few plans were as simple, peaceful and consensual as this. She balled a fist. Actually, she didn’t imagine to wait for freedom to have more children. Having Clara was a dare, yes, but a challenge that seemed possible and worthy. She was too spiteful. She didn’t intend to push her family life away into the unpredictable, far distant future that might never happen.
Shade and Farley might not get the chance if they waited until every danger was removed. They could die at any moment. Although she realized the dilemma of it, having a baby while they would leave to risk their lives, it was so easy to lose their slot for happiness. She had already wasted years of loneliness this way.
Did silvers have to worry about this? But no, Shade had explained to her; noble silvers rarely had children for love. They felt less responsible to protect their children than expected duty and obedience from their “offspring”. The new Kingdom of the Rift seemed like the perfect proof of it, not forging something new, but already negotiating to use the new Princess Evangeline to broker alliances by marriage. Predictable as silvers were this way, the strategy was beyond Farley. Surely, even if the parents had no love for each other, they wanted the best for their children? Depending on what they believed the best. though.
Restricted and violent as red lives were, Farley wished Clara had a future without boundaries. Leaning against the glass, she felt the phantom weight of Clara on her arms. Missed her, and desired to whisper more stories in her ear.
It was a struggle to show her love in handling her, as Shade did. She was undecided whether to comfort Clara when she cried, to let her be while she settled her demand, or holding her while doing it. It amused Shade, for sure, as he had achieved to do this, and they both knew just sharing the task was no solution as they couldn’t be together always. She had to learn this, and tempting as it was, she wouldn’t keep breastfeeding Clara for long. She’d picked her own amount of duties, and so she had to balance them, and if she didn’t want to give one up, she had to wear them thinner step by step.
That Shade enjoyed the mundane, weary and endless tending to Clara might be his greatest struck of luck. It unnerved Farley, and not because she was jealous. “I still find it hard to stomach it,” she told him now, “that I look at Clara with joy but you see … duty?” She glanced at him.
“It’s not just duty,” he objected, and stood up. “You wanted me to love her. For herself, and not for your sake. And I do. I love her in my own way.” Without looking, she felt how he walked over, his reflection flashing in the glass. “By caring for her. Is that not proof enough for you? She changed me, Dee, can’t you cherish what she does with both us?”
She startled. “Of course! I –”
He caught her elbow and his chin leaned on her shoulder so she faced his golden eyes in their reflection. “I don’t pretend, Diana. And it’s not just duty,” he repeated, kissing the corner between her neck and shoulders. His hand grasped her waist. “I love her because she’s ours. Because … we made her with, ah, love. And it was wonderful.”
Her fist clamped on his wrist. “You’re such a romantic.” It sent her heart racing but she continued with amusement. “You think it’s sign of love to conceive, but you don’t need to be in love to have a child, or you might be in love forever and never have one.”
His head slipped away and drew her own to turn and face him. “But it’s meaningful for us,” he said with conviction, his hand squeezing her side. “For me. For Clara.”
And she understood, of course. They both could love anyone, of any gender, and she’d alluded to as much. There might never have been a child for them, too, if anything had happened differently. No Clara, and however much she changed the world for them, they had found, chased and chosen one another, of all people and throughout all struggles, and that would last as Clara did.
Shade had told her once he’d love her in every way, all her infinite facets. She couldn’t believe her luck she had him discovering and unravelling every angle of her. “You’re impossible,” she told him. Crossing infinities, entering new spaces no one knew existed. “And I want to continue doing the impossible with you. Until it’s reality.”
It was fodder for his romantic heart, well deserved after listening to and understanding her complaints before feeding her desire by devouring her. “But …” he stuttered. “I … you do the impossible, too. I can do anything with you.” He cleared his throat, then stepped away with only his hands on her hips as if to stabilize and gather himself.
“Thanks,” she replied, grinning.
He chuckled helplessly. His breath tickled her naked back. “Clara,” he said carefully, “she has my eyes.”
“And?” She turned her face to him.
“Your father asked me if she had yours.” He was really exasperated about this. “Why would he do this?”
That he had the clueless audacity to ask this while staring at her with Clara’s eyes. “But you like she does, too.”
“Huh?”
She sighed, cupping his chin to peek even deeper into the golden shades. “You like she resembles you.”
He bit his lips. “That …yes, I do. Because – you know.” He groaned. “It shows she’s mine and I like that. To notice it every time I look at her.”
She inclined her head. “Because it was difficult for you to grasp that?” He closed his eyes and nodded, the old guilt popping up. Well, he made up for it already. She brushed through his hair. “But my father has a different point,” she explained. “I think … he seeks to remember me as a child. Or my sister, maybe. Easier if Clara looked more like me.”
He tilted his head. “Would you prefer that?”
“I prefer she looks like herself,” she stated and kissed him between his eyebrows. “Someone new.” Her lips brushed over his lid. “For a new world.” And who knew how unique Clara really was, if she had an ability? Resemblances mingled in Clara and her personality would be a whole other matter entirely. Farley wanted her to bloom and unfold into every petal of her being.
“So,” Shade said softly, “you have expectations on Clara?”
She blinked. “I have what?”
He grinned. “Her education. Plans for her. Expectations,” he listed. “I thought you’re storytelling, chatting, but it starts to sound like you’re already teaching her …”
“I’m not trying to teach a two-weeks-old baby –”
“Because you’re explaining Guard activities to her – very confidential operations, I’m certain, – going over your papers or reading from books.”
She bristled. “I only like to talk to her. Let her hear my voice for the days we missed. I do want to teach her, yes, but when she’s older, and wants to learn things, it’ll be …”
He raised an eyebrow as if that just stated his claim.
“It’ll be fucking cute to see what she learns in her own time!” she insisted with a groan and crossed her arms. “I won’t force her into anything. And,” her eyebrow twitched, “I haven’t picked your filthy books to read to her, in case that concerned you.”
“My filthy books?” He muttered something unintelligible. “I just found them here.”
“And snatched them up like a treasure,” she scoffed with glee.
He snorted loudly, closing her in against the glass door. “These books aren’t my treasure,” he rasped. You are, he mouthed before his lips settled on her cheek. She shivered.
“It’s okay,” she mumbled, “you can be filthy with me.”
He chuckled, leaning back and spun her around. His palm slid over her spine and he started to kiss her between the shoulder blades. “This rose perfume,” he noted, “you smell of it everywhere.”
Her hands fell against the glass and she laughed. “Will you finally go on to ‘taste every part of me’?”
Not seeing him, she tried to anticipate where his lips would move next. They journeyed over her back hither and thither and let go to speak. Instead his breath touched her. “Diana, that was always too ambitious an endeavour for one time. It was a fantasy. I thought you understood?” Briefly, he cupped her butt in a promise for later.
She reached behind and caught his wrist, cackling in victory. “You excel at making them come true.”
His fingers intertwined with hers and his other hand inched toward her breasts, so close she felt the ghost of his touch there. Not more. He refrained from more, as she’d asked. “Still so delicate?” he inquired, rather concerned than eager.
“Yes.” She shuddered. “I gave you the long report, and my breasts are tender as fuck.” She sighed. Battle condition would not come quicker while she breastfed, but she’d wanted to try, to bond after missing Clara’s first days and because she’d thought it healthy and easier. Well. Shade was better at making baby food and they were some lucky idiots whose child liked either food.
He frowned. “Hey –”
She grabbed his hand. “I don’t mind what she takes from me. But I’ll find a solution. Breastfeeding means I always have to be ready and available for Clara. Exclusively. And I can’t do that. I can’t be only Clara’s mother.”
He embraced her as she looked down. “Good that I’m here,” he said softly.
“As if I could forget,” she replied, in a lighter tone. He brushed a kiss on her brow and led them to the table and to settle on a couch, with her leaning against his side.
His fingers on her waist riled her, so she was distracted when he went on, more serious. “What if I was only Clara’s father?” She blinked, her head jerking to him. “I consider it,” he said.
Yet he didn’t appear entirely convinced. In reassurance, she patted his chest. “You said – asked – I should accept the way you love her. So that’s what you mean by it?”
He shrugged. “I wish I knew,” he replied quietly and nuzzled her temple, her jaw, her neck. “I’m yours, too,” he added, and froze. “Your …” He swallowed, uncertain which term fit best. “Your …”
She cackled. “My motherfu –”
He stopped her with a finger on her lips. “Don’t say it a third time,” he declared with a smirk. “Or it loses all power.” She hmphed and her lips tried to catch his finger but he pulled it away and replaced it with his mouth. “Will you let me get away with everything?” he muttered.
“Huh?” The constant making out was getting to her again while he, tensing, turned serious. Even his touch did.
“Giving up the cause for Clara.”
“Do you give it up?”
“When I said …” He exhaled with frustration. “I don’t know. I can do things no one else is able to. Make decisive achievements. Can I deprive the Guard of that?”
She leaned over to face him, grasping his shoulder. “It’d be for Clara, too, but you are not your ability. Shade. We’re reds, and we are more than ability or not. We won’t become silvers. I won’t –”
“That’s it. You never tell me what to do. Command me.”
She frowned. “Do you want me to?”
“Outside of bedplay?” His smile was pained. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t. You shouldn’t be commander of your boyfriend.”
“I’ve only promoted you a month ago. What did I order you to do but help me?”
“With Clara, yes. But there’ll be other orders.” He sank into the couch so they shifted position, until he leaned onto her side. He joined their hands, watching their twined fingers. “I want to make a dent,” he said quietly. “Do meaningful, successful work and save people. But it always comes back to it, the one person I owe to protect, care for, is Clara.”
“I …”
“You want to change the world for her, yes. And that’s great. But what about now?” He looked up. “She shouldn’t have to live like we did. But should she live afraid for, or without her parents?” Farley flushed, she felt it, and he grasped her face. “You don’t like to talk about that.”
Her gaze drifted away. She couldn’t help that either, yet made her eyes return to him. “I want to make the time count we do spend with her. She’ll know we love her.”
That was why she told it Clara every day. Was saying so enough? How would they show it when they left for war? She’d have to do it, she owed it to the Guard that kept her alive and protected her, as well as her soldiers and Command who put such trust in her. She was certain she could do it, leave Clara behind, in faith she was in safe hands while another part of Farley yearned to spend every day with her, do nothing else but hold her daughter. Those were idle dreams. It was dangerous to love someone this deeply. Losing Clara would destroy her, while being separated felt like a simple feat.
Shade cleared his throat. “Then maybe we should make sure of it …” He paused while she had no idea what he meant. He shook himself, straightened his posture. “I can’t let you go back alone. Not on your first battle, when you’re so worried about your fitness. The anxiety would kill me, and Clara would notice.” He chuckled joylessly and she waited, covering their hands with her other palm.
“Perhaps it’s better if we don’t fight together,” he proposed. “So one of us stays with Clara. And lives for certain.”
And if the other doesn’t live? Farley wondered but kept quiet. She hesitated to agree, just cuddled closer. Savouring this moment they did have.
“I’d like you watch my back the first time,” she said. “And you can train with me.” She coughed. “And exercise teleporting with me.” She almost heaved at the idea but it couldn’t be helped. The operations Davidson described relied on teleporters and her time of avoidance was over. She had doubts about Shade’s plan yet no other idea either. There were no good solutions to raise Clara in this world until it changed and organizing Clara’s childhood required all her strategic skills.
She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to return her mind to battle yet. This afternoon was her present, and moments of peace, pleasure and calm were rare enough to save. With her ear falling on his chest, she listened to his heartbeat, taking one more sniff of his honey soap smell.
This will not last.
The conversation had woken thoughts of strategies she was discussing with Command and Davidson. With her own work, Shade’s assurances and, mostly, Clara’s safe birth, she’d accepted this base as secure for the time being, and allowed herself to revel in its beauty. Yet in the back of her mind, it remained fragile and poisonous, and the Scarlet Guard needed an antidote.
She’d never felt easy with the way Davidson had blackmailed Piedmont into handing over the base, as much she had to welcome the premier’s alliance and the base’s accommodations. In the end, the dream of this stay would end.
She still felt the desire stirring in her, the flowers smelling as seductive as ever. Here she had bloomed but she was fire as well, as proven by Shade’s resumed kisses igniting over her skin – a flame of victory.
She turned to sit on his lap, wanting to leave her own wreath of lowers over his chest. To clasp his cock. When she asked him about it, his eyes widened with a surprised delight even more satisfying than she’d imagined.
Today, they’d sparked here with passion but this base, it was meant to burn to cinders when they were gone.
She’d only be able to remember the flowers of Piedmont Clara was born in.
Red Queen Fan Fiction - The Flowers of Piedmont Part 3
A/N 1: A soon to come double feature! Since it'd be embarrassing if I don't give Farley her "present" on her birthday in a few days, I'll give you this long overdue part with priority
Part 1
Interlude
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
11.500 words
Part 3
May 16th – An Order
The second day of his daughter’s life, Shade rose full of resolutions. He could not let Diana forget about eating. He’d be better prepared. He’d make her food like he did Clara’s. Pick up food for himself, too. While he kept his eyes and hands on Clara, he only grabbed snacks at hand – like the leftover food from Dee’s birthday. He shook himself. He had to be more organized. Shower. Get dressed. Place diapers and clothes to change Clara quick and easy.
Maybe he’d even manage to remove the dirty clothes and the trash but he doubted it.
Despite his determination, it didn’t feel like waking on a new day. Not when he slept in intervals, rather than nights, getting up every few hours to tend to Clara. Waiting to fall asleep again, actually sleeping – or not. Increasingly, he noted how leaden and aching his arms were and he couldn’t tell why. He felt sore like after a battle although they’d done anything but.
Or had they? In Diana’s case, it had been one.
He considered nothing had challenged him like that until it dawned on him, remembering the birth, that he’d held her up as she’d squatted before him. He’d supported her weight for hours.
It was almost embarrassing. That he came away with this weariness from Clara’s birth, yet so little in comparison to giving birth. He could make up for it though, take care of Clara despite it and would not complain – except he wanted to complain to Diana about it, because he hoped it’d amuse her, that she’d joke about him “getting a taste of it”, of keeping the promise of sharing the burden.
He was uncertain about it, the burden. It sounded so harsh, but like he’d told Diana, it felt great to accomplish something great. Difficult. He could, he grasped, feel great about tending to Clara, bask in love and joy. Once he’d felt blank about Clara, but that was before she was “Clara”. Now he felt more than ever.
At least, he’d been right to request these rooms because it offered space, an attached bathroom and the small kitchen close by, although it wasn’t as stocked as the mess hall and Shade had to make food himself. For Clara, he had to, anyway. He needed to get rid of his shaking fingers, the anxious glancing at the baby. He knew she was content when she didn’t cry, and when she did, he couldn’t help the time needed to prepared what she wanted. So he left her in her bed or basket or a sling while his focus was elsewhere (challenging). When the calm chance arose, he made Dee’s meal, putting cuts on bread, mixing a salad, asking for leftovers from the mess hall or palming sweets. He couldn’t warm up any of it, as the last day proved, but only retrieve what could be ready when Diana woke.
That happening he noticed so early she’d barely opened her eyes before he kissed her brow and told her he’d bring her meal, before she could even ask for Clara. He saw Dee wanted her when he was back in her longing glances toward Clara in the living room, listening for sounds from the baby. If he wasn’t fast, she might try to get up when she needed to summon her strength first.
“Shade, I –” she began as he set the tray of food down on the bed and sat on the edge of it. Good it offered so much room.
“Food first,” he insisted. She sighed and reached for the bread, taking in the menu filling the whole tray as she chewed. He handed her a glass of water, ready to refill it.
She drank. “Do I have to eat it all before you let me hold my baby?” she asked.
He smiled like a waiter. “Just giving you a choice of treats.”
That didn’t answer her question, of course. “So much meat?” she observed, forking through the salad. “I’m not growing a child anymore.”
He stroked over her am. “You want your muscles back, though?” he said quietly.
“As if I’m up to sports yet,” she muttered, and took another forkful.
His legs jiggled expectantly. Should he bring more? Or warm something up? Would Clara want something? What would Dee say if Clara cried now –
He rose to check.
“Shade –” he heard her call out behind him. Should he take Clara over already? Instead of deciding, he just watched her sleeping and felt Dee’s jealous stare on him.
When she called again, louder this time, he obeyed. She was done eating. He checked the tray, to Dee’s annoyance. “Content with what I ate?” she taunted.
He flushed. “What – no, I’m not controlling you.”
She glared. “Aren’t you?”
He lifted the tray with a sigh. “Just looking what you like best. I mean, you forgot to eat yesterday.”
“Yesterday was extraordinary.”
Putting the food aside, he met her eyes, sitting down. “It was,” he agreed quietly, hands on her cheek.
She leaned into the touch. Stayed like that. “It was like a dream,” she murmured. “During the birth, I had no thoughts anymore and then I met her at last … it was more than I could process. And when I woke up – was it all another dream or would she be still there?” She grimaced. “Silly, I know.”
He shook his head slowly. “Trust me, she is very real. As intense as she is.”
“We really did make a human, didn’t we?” Despite her exhaustion, she said it with sarcastic joy. Shade glanced down at her pride.
“You did all that,” he said.
She stared at him. “I did, but …” She cleared her throat. “It was strange. She needed me to grow but I felt powerless to make sure she would live. I could only wait and endure.” Her fingers started to brush over the back of his hand and he felt it all over his body. “But that makes her no less your child, too,” she added, squeezing his hand.
Shade cackled. As if he didn’t know. He struggled to share Diana’s vindication when he was consumed by responsibility. Clara relied on him. Diana relied on him to keep her alive and he couldn’t begin to imagine what she’d tell him if he failed. He had to live up to her obvious love.
And Clara was not the only reality to face. The dream continued – for now they focused on their newborn but soon the heat, the duties of the Scarlet Guard, the colonel and the war would call back.
And as certain as that was, it was for later. “She’ll always he here,” Shade said. “I promise.”
But a promise did not disperse the vulnerability of the love in her eyes until she moved at last. “I want to wash.”
“Sure,” he said, and helped her up. After a few steps, she could do it alone, walking to the living room instead of the attached bathroom. Looking at Clara, deeply asleep. She released a heavy breath.
It seemed like she was too shy to touch her. As if the lost time already took its toll.
The opposite should apply, he thought. With time lost, Diana should take every chance to bond with Clara when she could. So what if Clara woke?
He touched her waist. “Just pick her up.”
Startling, Dee spun. “In a moment. I really need …” she broke off and slid to the bathroom, leaving him with his mouth open and to bring the dishes away.
They must’ve missed one another as there was no one around when he returned – until arms embraced him from behind. Shade moulded to her shape and covered her hands with his as her arms wound around his waist.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, “the food was delicious.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. And am I delicious, too? He refrained to add as her lips nuzzled his neck.
“You care so well for Clara and me,” she said. “You’re so wonderful.”
Warmth and goosebumps travelled over him equally and he squeezed her wrist. “Please,” he said. He could smell soap on her skin, feel the crispness of the new night shirt she’d put on. Her stance shifted, and with a final brush on his shoulder, she glided to the bed, still connected hands forcing him to follow. He laid down facing her, keeping his gaze away from her long bare legs beneath her oversize shirt. Her one hand played with his fingers, the other caressed his cheek as her eyes drowned him.
She must be glad to have him around to support her. She wouldn’t be alone like his mother was when his father was at war, didn’t have to continue burying her emotions under her work. She had another adult to talk to, a partner parent to share their new life with.
He had another parent to share these experiences with.
Her caresses froze. “I woke when your mother left,” she said. “In the morning, just a moment.” She swallowed. “You weren’t here.”
He angled his head. “I was over there, with Clara.”
“Over …” Her head jerked aside. “On the couch? The whole night?” She frowned.
He chuckled. Hardly the whole night. He sat up and down again. Even when Clara didn’t draw his attention, he found something to consider, organize or prepare now he was getting the gist of taking care of her. Did he sleep for what, three hours? That didn’t sound so bad.
He pressed her hand, pulling it close to his chest. “Her crying didn’t wake you, did it? I’m glad.”
“You …” Her throat bobbed. Pondering. Fingers circled the corner of his ear and he knew she knew exactly what that was doing to him. “I want you to sleep in my bed,” she demanded.
He raised his eyebrows. “Now it is your bed?” he asked, slightly pulling away.
Her eyes narrowed. “Barrow –”
“Don’t ‘Barrow’ me,” he countered. “I have enough tasks to do.” He smiled. “I can’t sleep when you do.” He loosened himself from her.
“When do you even sleep, with a baby?” she inquired, half-rising, exasperated that the cozy mood was interrupted.
He got up nonetheless, approaching Clara and calling over from her cot in the living room. “If you want to order anyone,” he said, returning to the bed, “give her an order.” Clara blinked, barely awake in his arms, as he perched on the edge of the mattress.
Diana gaped, finally facing Clara and annoyed by Shade’s antics. He wondered if she’d disobey and just extract her from his hold. Instead she gathered herself, playing along. “Pri … sol …” She shook her head. What would she even command?
“Infant Farley-Barrow,” she announced then, apparently satisfied to have thought of the term, “do not get sunburned,” she ordered, a smile betraying the military tone. “And please have mercy on Papa.”
His face tensed as his grin matched hers. He shifted to pass Clara to Dee before she even reached out.
Dee picked her up into her arms, whispering “I love you” as she stroked her face. He could get lost in that smile she had for Clara. He gave in to linger, abandoning other tasks waiting and listened to what Dee told Clara all the time.
She kissed Clara’s head. “You are not a soldier,” she murmured. “Papa forced me to make a joke or he might’ve never brought you over.” For a second, she flashed him a glare despite her contentment. He was well-aware how protective she was of Clara, her frowns and glares telling how ready she was to slay anyone who threatened her baby. It must appear similar to what she called his “dangerous menace” look. But that was mere pretend now when she laid down, placing the baby beside her, a palm on Clara’s belly. Tracking her breathing. “We’re your army serving you,” Dee said.
“Scarlet Guard princess,” Shade muttered, thinking of Mare remarking the same.
“What?” Dee asked.
He shook his head, lowering himself beside them. Did Mare have a point?
He still believed Clara a heir to nothing but their great-grandmother’s patterns Gisa embroidered on the baby clothes. He could hardly imagine how silvers regarded their children. Calling someone so small and delicate as a baby a legacy, heir or ruler-to-be sounded thoroughly absurd to him. Diana insisted that Clara was big, strong and healthy – and she was – but she was also a helpless newborn. What expectations could anyone put on her; it was Shade who felt pressured to keep Clara alive and happy.
Would it be different if she was a boy? But that seemed even more silly. A male baby would be nothing less in need; to revere them for gender alone was solely dismissive and narrow-sighted. He’d just witnessed what strength and power Diana was capable of.
Dee’s voice hummed next to him, her laughter pulling him back into the moment. She hadn’t talked much to Clara inside her belly although Clara would be familiar to her voice as much as possible anyway, and even now, it was likely more of a presence to Clara than a lecture.
Either way, it had calmed her to sleep.
He must’ve stirred because Dee looked up and found his eyes, her own gaze sparkling.
“I want to let Farley be happy,” he had told Mare.
“Isn’t she happy?” his sister had replied. “I saw the way she smiled”.
That smile she always showed to Clara. Showed it right now. Could any irritation or worry ever erase it? Her attention returned on their sleeping daughter, prattling about gathering food in a lakelander forest, of all things. His wood woman talked about mushrooms, plants and game as if she longed to bring Clara there one day, to her lost home to prepare dinner. What a small but unreachable thing to be excited about.
Himself, he remembered doing the same at the Notch when Clara was just a possibility he had no idea of.
He wished Diana’s story came true one day, in calmer, safer times and before that, he’ d cherish moments like that, finding joy in food or nature even in times of danger. This place was so pretty, as if illustrating their own happiness. Although Diana kept doubting its safety – and she had a point. It was no place to stay in, not meant to last, like any safety or freedom for reds and newbloods.
He stretched his hand to cup Dee’s cheek. Her eyes turned to him, surprised. “I was just getting to the dessert,” Dee whispered. “Wild berry cookies and yogurt.”
“Are you still hungry?” he asked. She blinked in denial although he wouldn’t have left her now at no price. He didn’t need wild berries to be seduced. Her face captured him all by itself. “Why did you name her Clara?” he asked.
She snorted. “I already told her that! First thing actually.” He stared, and her gaze flipped between him and the baby.
“I suppose,” she went on after some consideration, “that I’ll tell her that many more times.” Her voice was soft, quiet, as she caressed Clara’s chest. But her focus switched to him. “I want to tell her so much. Teach her everything. Until we have our own insider stories she knows by heart.” Something fell off her, and he unravelled it only slowly with the tiredness of birth hanging on her.
“Long time until she can tell stories by heart,” he said. Diana nodded, and he clasped her arm. “As I like stories too,” he insisted, “I’ll make sure we can share as many as you can think of.” Leaning over, close enough to kiss her cheek, he whispered, “neither the silvers nor the Guard will rob us of the time to do this.” He sank back with a smile, a reassurance needed, as Diana’s wavered ever so slightly.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, cleared her throat. She didn’t reply though. “When she was born,” she began, “I thought of my mother. That she was with me. To help and advise me. She was formidable, you know. A Guard soldier, yes, but also a model I strove after. And there I was, drained and clueless about what to do with a newborn.” She grimaced. “Though you learned so quickly, and so will I, right?” She snorted and grasped his hand on her cheek. “But there she was and she was mine, ours, and I’d do anything for her. I want to be like my mother. And I want to remember her. So, yeah. This way, I can’t forget. Nor will Clara.”
“You can tell me – us – more about her,” he said.
Diana laughed. “I’ve been already doing that,” she said lightly, glancing at Clara.
Of course. But he hadn’t heard it the first time. In fact, Diana spoke very little about her dead family, other than losing them. His thumb drew circles over her skin. “I want to know, too.”
She inclined her head. “Where to begin …?” She stumbled over the last word with a yawn. But that smile slowly returned. Out of order, she talked about her mother, her sister, the Lakelands. She mentions her cousins, her ex-girlfriend Giselle, the farms, the woods and the hunting there, in short glimpses only, until her eyelids dropped and even the glimpses fragmented as sleep reclaimed her, leaving him hanging in wait for more adventures. He sighed. Carefully, he drew Clara to him to put her back in her cot but she was so peaceful he stayed where he was. He should bring the cot to the bedroom anyway, since he’d sleep there, too.
May 17th - Memories
At night, Shade watched them vary forms in fascination. Peaceful sleep, yes, but also every stir of Clara, anticipating if she’d wake, and with which need. When he noticed such, it itched him to pick her up in prevention, although it might be false alert and wake her for nothing and then he had to deal with her anguish.
Maybe he just craved to hold her. Clara felt moulded to his arms and as of yet, he had no idea how to give her away, out of sight, out of easy reach farther than the kitchen next door. He’d abandon everything else for her but even as he thought this, the words spiralling through his mind, sleep overwhelmed him, his eyelids fighting to stay open until accepting defeat.
He collapsed in a heap when this happened, and he had to reconstruct himself when Clara’s cries demanded him, merciless during the seconds he required to understand and get up. Like during the day, he managed without his mother, proudly – too proud to ask her back –, but it still left him on the edge of his capacity. Rising from interruption to interruption of sleep pained him for seconds before he even could act, while nothing seemed to disturb Diana. Magic. Was it a miracle, a gift from Sara, actually, that Dee could reap all rest she needed despite her baby’s cries?
If so, he was glad to sleep beside her now, if Clara didn’t bother her, at least, for now. As awkward as it was to be awake next to her, it helped to be close. Not alone.
Her sleep cleaved them apart as it was and they had no use for that. Robbing Diana of Clara’s first days, leaving him alone with her care. The totality dawned on him, how it claimed all and every skill of his, to stress both him and Diana in the future but that, he shoved away. For now, he welcomed it.
For months, he had doubted. Clueless how it’d be, glimpsing how Diana, too, had little idea of the reality of it, he feared not to be enough. To fail Clara, and Diana, as he’d failed Mare. Although Mare had returned to them, and his daughter and her mother were safe with him, the gloom of the night before he fell asleep grew rooms for the memories of fear, as in the months before.
Watch. Look. See how safe they are. Count their breaths.
The ease of relief was piercing, almost painful. It was love, though.
He’d panicked when Diana was unwell, missing to greet him as he came back from the Archeon attack. It had turned out as nothing, really, but it carried the weight of his fears embodied.
Turn your back once, for one day, and find your girlfriend and child deceased.
It could have happened, them dying from birth complications when no one was there to help them, and the woman he loved, the family they’d planned and the life they’d dreamt of were gone in an instant, Shade powerless to stop it and still feeling the blame of the infinite burden of their loss.
He could never have processed it, had no idea how any family – father – could. It had been nothing to worry over, he’d told himself afterwards. And he’d gotten Mare back. Yet he remained frightened for everyone he loved, and once she was born, Shade began to grasp anew how quickly he could lose her. How that would devastate him. The fear for Clara was something else entirely. She was helpless to survive, how could she withstand if the enemy targeted her?
It was obvious. He embraced every demand, ordeal and exertion to keep her alive, to be loved, as if that was the only way to prove he could protect her. These days and nights, he was their sentinel on alert as if this was a mission. Although he reclined on a sumptuous bed in pajamas and was supposed to nap when he could, his dreams repeating his daily concerns. And also Diana’s words and stories, her expectations and plans.
Like him, it was like she was herself surprised how talkative she was with Clara, smiling at her as she did, the expression on her face newborn as well.
Clara was like a dream to Diana. Both mundane and far away, almost unreachable, and yet she came true. What else did she dream of Clara becoming? Life in a better world, she said as much, and when she outlined the organisation necessary for a baby, it spoke of an eagerness to live through it, see Clara thrive and become herself.
Still, with her own missing out, the change was so sudden and drastic, it seemed like Dee struggled to believe the dream was real. Well, she would when she started to fumble through Clara’s endless needs with him, this mix of guessing, dirt and success. He quite looked forward –
He stirred, half-awake, finding the room leeched of its red colouring by the nocturnal shades of grey that the twilight dawn lightened to pale blues.
It illuminated Diana who crouched on the bed with her knees pulled to her chest. Observing Clara, a meter away from her in the cot at the foot of the bed.
Shade yawned. Let her watch as she pleased, he’d stay in repose while he could.
And yet, now he was awake and looked on, his smile waned as he found Diana so frozen and reluctant. It kept his eyes open, alarmed, until she finally moved, rubbing her face with a groan, and then a sniff.
His readiness paid off. With effort of his own, he reached out, over the absurdly large bed, to tip against her leg.
She startled, as if caught unaware, turning toward him with wide eyes and trembling lips. Even more unsettled than he thought.
“I …” She sighed and blinked. Shook herself and spun, lowering herself down to him slowly. Silence was pregnant with expectation, his eyes narrowing as he waited, preparing to give her whatever she needed. The slowness of her closing in on him raised goosebumps on his skin, till an actual shiver when she leaned in, lying beside him – he beneath the blanket and her above it.
The way she clasped his arm was no less intimate. She searched his eyes, then glanced away, toward Clara once more. She breathed, and his heart pounded.
With an exhale of resolve, she spoke. “I haven’t sat like that for months,” she said, eyes still wide with anguish. “I could not. And now – I still can do it only barely.” With emphasis, she squeezed his arm and stared. “Do you understand? Every part of me feels different.”
She was, heart-breakingly, desperate. He inched closer, to hug her tighter, as if to show her he did not feel different.
Was that even true? Was not everything different now?
Diana’s response had its own urgency, too. She pressed against him, the blanket a tangle between them, and her hand on his arm firm like a clamp, even as it slid to his wrist. Soon, her other hand started to tickle on his jaw, drawing circles, exploring the new stubble against the grain.
Her mouth tested out his lips, softly, still air between them. “Shade, how … how will I …?” Her voice was haunted, with helpless despair but also need, as if this, he, at least, could resolve this. Like the day of the birth, they were kissing like they had to, in a moment to keep them above water.
Dee weaved their fingers, moving their joined hands over, toward her hips, and then to her belly. He felt her hitching breaths against his palm even through her wrinkled night shirt. Beneath, she was still rounded and soft, although already shrunk by Sara’s ability. He noted all that, but did not move on his own. Didn’t dare. Let her be in charge, direct, go where she craved. Indeed, she didn’t pull their hands over again, letting them rest on the place where Clara had grown.
A sigh escaped her in their kissing and he cocked his head to swallow it, a reaction to her nervous energy.
“Are you better now?” he rasped, as if this was like any random wake-up.
Instead it turned her rigid. Skittish as a deer, she stopped yet seemed the more the huntress for it. A force of nature. Tense for them both, she made all the spots they touched feel more intense.
Including a tension of arousal he’d prefer to subdue. Its presence broke him out of it with awkward awareness until, finally, Dee relaxed as well.
Her head dropped on the bed, her gaze on him as her fingers resumed their journey on his face. “Everything feels different,” she repeated. “I learn with every motion how changed I – my body is.” Her lids lowered.
“Well …”
Her stare returned. “How should I fight if I don’t know if I can just … run?”
His pulse raced. That was what this was about? Her fitness?
He loosened his palm from her belly – his other hand he laid on and it tingled – and brushed her cheek in turn. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “Take your time.” Trying to match her stare, he went on, “Clara is our priority.”
For seconds, she watched him. Assessed until the glances replaced words. In the end, she brushed his face once more before she clumsily moved under the blanket.
They were even nearer now, embracing, her face against his chest. But the urgent passion was gone. She rested against him until her eyes fell close, ceasing to search for Clara in the cot at the foot of the bed.
It was like the bluish morning light reclaimed her, painting her in a peaceful image of dreams – like a fairy of novels he’d read about. He’d thought her like them on one night when they had just met and she seemed all mystery and secrets and almost magic.
This twilight, dreams offered her little peace. He sighed, rubbing her back before he’d wait to either sleep or Clara claiming him again.
The start of day found him surprisingly refreshed, as he sat up on the edge of the bed, with ease, like the twilight kiss on the cusp of dawn was a promise and not haunting him still. Like traces of desire, Dee’s phantom touches were ghosting over his body and he stroked against his stubble as she had done, as if he could chase it away, as if he could pretend it was the same.
Of course it wasn’t. Her words resurfaced in his recovered mind. Had he been too insensitive? He could not imagine how giving birth and all the changes it caused impacted Diana.
Yet he had to rise and stretched, ready to make use of calm time alone. He just returned from the bathroom, dressed, to check that Clara was not only still breathing but also awake.
Content for now, to his luck. He smiled down at her, imagining she was smiling when it was mere eye contact, tracking his face and hands reaching for him. She bubbled with the attention, reviving the lurching, piercing awe that he accomplished this. Make her know him, feel protected, loved – and loving him.
He came low to meet her. Like waves, doubts shifted into pride that he was able to make Clara love him and feel cared for. His thumb brushed her brow. “You make me so afraid,” he whispered, “but your smile also chases away the fear.” He grinned. “Shall I tell you a secret, like Mama does?” His gaze fell on the sleeping Diana. “Chase is what I would’ve called you,” he said quietly, “but maybe someone else will be …” He left the end of the sentence hanging, suddenly unsure himself. How could he imagine future children? He had no idea if he dared, if Diana felt ready or the world would grant them the mere chance to. But that was the point, unfulfilled and far away as it was. Talking about it, the thought alone, created a hazy image of the family that could be, that Clara might have a home and siblings because he wanted to hope they lived in a different, safer world where this was possible. But now even Clara felt tenuous, and also she was a certainty, one to hold on to.
That afternoon, the kitchen was neither deserted, nor promised refreshing company. Shade intended to use Clara’s current nap to clean up and get rid of dirty clothes and dishes, realizing he could not just rest along with her – he had to make the best of having his hands free.
Yawning, he walked into the kitchen, and immediately straightened his posture when he encountered the colonel there, pilfering some dainty jars. Shade grumbled in greeting, hoping to be done with a similar reply from the colonel.
Instead he received a stunned, eager stare. Shade snorted under the watch, setting down his dishes with exaggerated care. “Making use of the silver stock?” Shade said, glancing at the fancy products on the table.
The colonel gathered himself. “So do you,” he replied, pointing at the baby food. “Diana doesn’t feed the baby.”
Shade’s fists tightened on a bottle. “She doesn’t have to do everything,” he circled around the truth. She’d already given Clara what she needed while Shade had doubted. It was his turn to make up.
“I can do this for her,” he said and turned back to his tasks as a silence fell, broken only by clinking dishes and the colonel’s eating sounds. Shade could’ve sworn he tried to be quiet and failed with embarrassment.
Not that Shade felt less awkward. He exhaled with relief when the colonel finished and stood up. But instead of leaving, he spoke. “The baby. Clara. Does she have Diana’s eyes?”
Rattled, Shade drew up his shoulders. Why would he ask that?
“No,” Shade lied, glad they didn’t face each other. “She has my eyes.” In fact, he didn’t know yet although it was likely enough, given Clara shared his brown colouring. He didn’t care if he was caught later on. A revealed lie would only show what he thought of the colonel and blue eyes were cute, too.
The colonel wasn’t placated. He exasperated Shade by stepping closer, walking almost into Shade who was opening a cabinet door.
Looking raw, the colonel appeared almost vulnerable. Shade couldn’t stand it, even though he’d once imagined Clara with blue eyes, too, long ago, before she was born. Before she was Clara.
“Your daughter,” the colonel said, “with your eyes.”
Shade bristled. Would he start about the threat of unpredictable newbloods again?
“Yes, my daughter,” Shade confirmed with stressed pride. “I’m there for her. For Diana.”
The colonel cleared his throat. “Is Diana better?”
Not better enough for him, probably. Was it not him who caused her moments of anguish about her fitness like this early morning? Shade tilted his head. “Now she is Diana again, not the general? Who should already be back at the front or the gym at least?” Fresh was the memory of the colonel using her rank like an expectation. Not for respect.
The colonel flinched like caught in his change of tack. Quickly, he recovered himself. “She’ll aways be Diana to me,” he said – unusually – softly. Like finally cracking his core where Dee was his daughter he loved and not a subordinate soldier girl to scold. In acknowledgement, Shade inclined his head, almost without intention. The colonel went on, “I always want her to be well –”
His voice rose and stilled when Shade spilled milk. Was has he ever done to make Diana well?
“Once, you said she was risking her life for Clara,” Shade began. “But your worry is misplaced.” Gleefully, he registered the colonel’s flustering. “Giving birth isn’t without danger,” Shade went on, “yet what have you done when Diana was unwell while I was in Archeon?” He glared at the colonel. “Nobody looked after her until I was back. Anything could’ve happened. I turn my back for a few hours and my girlfriend and our child could’ve died.” Rage fed into his snarl. “Fortunately, it was nothing serious, but no thanks to you.”
“I’m hardly the person she wants –”
“That’s your excuse for everything? Keeping her at arm’s length and then saying she doesn’t want you close by? You knew she was unwell!”
“I know how it feels to lose –” His voice was a growl that sawed into Shade before the colonel stopped himself, unwilling to disclose himself so deeply.
They both welcomed the following silence. His pulse pounded in Shade’s head. Of course. Of course. The colonel had lost his wife and their daughter. And yet.
Finally, the colonel crossed his arms, tense like he had to rein himself in. “I am well aware of birth complications, too,” he said in purposely even voice. “Clara – her mother –”
“Diana told me,” Shade interrupted him, not lingering on the second the colonel had used the name “Clara” with aching affection from long ago memories. Waiting, he watched the colonel calm down after an outburst not from anger or disappointment.
“You saved her mother when she had childbed fever,” Share said. “Got her the medicine to survive.” He exhaled sharply. “You know, that did not scare Diana at all. It just gave her reassurance of all that she could survive. With due support.”
That is the woman I love. Before he turned to the door, Shade threw the colonel another stare.
“Because you’d save her, too?” the colonel called over his shoulder.
“Do you really have to ask?” Shade snapped back. He was almost out. “Diana will be hungry,” he muttered to pretend urgency, although he’d forgotten to take any food.
“Why are you so angry?” the colonel demanded. Finally, he attempted a direct attack when Shade was unprepared, as if retreated too far toward roundabout movements.
“How can you not know?” Shade erupted. “You have hurt her. For years. Broke her heart with lonely, cold, bitterness.” His voice cracked and grinded like rocks. “She wanted Clara, ready to risk her health and her rank for her because she rather had a new family than be stuck with you!”
“So it’s my fault she wanted a child?” Shocked by himself, the colonel spoke impulsively but that didn’t stop him from noticing Shade freezing. Trapped and caught, his mouth falling open.
“Clara is no one’s fault,” Shade barked back. But even as he fought to regain himself, he shook as he grasped the first snacks in reach. “My daughter waits for me,” he muttered, avoiding to face the colonel, at loss whether these confrontations would achieve anything to mend their ties or if Shade even wanted that.
May 18th – Visitors
“Mare. Mare. Mare.” Shade drawled her name on the last repetition to win her attention. At last, she granted it with annoyance. “Hold Clara?” he asked her frowning face as he shifted the baby for emphasis.
His sister recoiled, defensively, almost like she’d looked in silver palaces. Shade hesitated. He’d come to introduce Clara to his whole family and among their fussing and chatting, they droned out yesterday’s confrontation with Diana’s father.
“Is it my fault she wanted a child?” The sentence ran on repeat in Shade’s mind. Fault. Fault. As if Shade regretted Clara’s existence. As if the colonel thought so. That Shade still imagined a life without her.
Now, that idea was laughable, yet those doubts had been real and the colonel had succeeded in making Shade feel like an imposter again. As if he wasn’t acting among his family, too, showing a certain image until it became true.
They made it easy, though. When his parents tried to play down their concern in a comically manner and his brothers joked and teased at him with Kilorn, Shade rode along the lifted spirits, until he’d approached Mare, sitting aside with Cal.
It offered him a moment of rest. Similarly, the exiled prince preferred remaining on the edges of the tumult. He appeared as flustered as Diana among the whole batch of Barrows in their banter but Cal also seemed able to melt into it quickly. At heart, he was warm, longing for family like Diana but sociable where she grew icily smooth.
Cal had warmth that Mare leaned into. Watching the scene but by herself, by him.
Maybe Shade had disturbed a romantic moment.
He straightened. Mare had invited Cal here, too, so it had not been intended as private. Pleadingly, he implored Mare’s still rigid expression.
Perhaps it had grown private once Mare snuck aside with Cal –
“Let me.”
Shade startled as Cal turned to him. Smiling pleasingly as royal etiquette had taught him and with arms ready to receive.
Glancing once at Clara, Shade handed her over before he could think about it, only to question two seconds later if Dee was okay with a silver royal holding their daughter.
What nonsense, Shade dismissed the objection. Dee was not afraid or mistrusting Cal. And yet – for a heartbeat, Shade was protective enough to be suspicious of Cal, or anyone, and Diana might be, too.
Only the sight of Clara and Cal was completely disarming.
Cal lit up with Clara in his arms, grinning brightly-eyed and with a secure hold.
Shade gulped, biting his lip before his mouth fell open.
“Catching flies, Barrow?” He still heard Diana teasing him about staring with obvious attraction. He didn’t blame himself for being enchanted by Cal with Clara – Cal seemed like the shining, beautiful prince greeting new babies with sincere joy.
Yet the Crown Prince of Norta would never have given such treatment to a red baby.
Though now he did exactly that and Clara looked thoroughly comfortable in his heat.
Shade sighed at Cal’s affection. He could only wish to look as compellingly beautiful holding a baby as Cal who was of course perfectly clean and advantageously dressed while Shade had merely managed to put on fresh clothes for the visit. And those clothes were starting to run out, not to speak of his hair and stubble –
He scratched the stubble and woke memories of Diana doing the same and heat rose to his face. Well, considering Dee’s eagerness to touch him, Shade remained very attractive to the one who counted.
Mare rubbed against him as she stood. Her eyes lingered on Cal as if the sight enthralled her, too.
“Wait –”
“Mare –” Shade and Cal said at the same time. Mare groaned at them stopping her escape.
Smoothly and elegantly, Cal shifted Clara toward her. “She’s such a darling, you should take her,” Cal said. Probably, he had really welcomed babies as a prince, Shade guessed. He was just too good at it. Then Cal glimpsed at Shade, to his surprise, and nodded.
Cal wanted to do Shade a favour by asking Mare this. Shade swallowed a cough. “She absolutely is,” Shade agreed. “Please.” He could not give up if Cal backed him up and finally, Mare relented and Cal slowly handed Clara over under Shade’s careful supervision, until the baby was transferred securely in a delicate operation.
It was … ridiculous. Awkward. And also glorious.
Standing still, Mare held Clara tightly in both arms with little chance to look at her but it was enough for a start.
Shade stroked Mare’s shoulder tenderly. “Thank you,” he told Mare, taking Clara back with decidedly more ease than Mare letting go.
Mare appeared a little overwhelmed. “She is …” but she was at loss for words.
Shade smirked. “I know! I was floored to hold her for the first time, too.” It wasn’t the same at all, of course. His feelings were stronger because he was Clara’s father but Mare was so insecure about babies.
Now she grinned back, relieved to have successfully held Clara and to talk lighter again.
“I’m glad you tried,” Cal said. In some way, he seemed withdrawn.
“Well –,” Mare bit her lip.
Oh my. The difference between them was stark. Mare reluctant and Cal enthusiastic. They were aware, too, and flustered. Shade thought nothing of it. Just because his baby brought attention to the topic didn’t mean they had to consider where they stood about children. Or did they? Were they even –
Shade cut off the idea right away. Their (not) sex life wasn’t a business he’d get into. He didn’t have the time.
Clara clasped his shirt, glancing at him.
“Shh, Papa is here,” he told her automatically. In the back of his mind, though, he knew he’d avoided many of Mare’s regards he couldn’t afford for Clara’s and Diana’s sake. Despite his reasons, he regretted it. Maybe he should inquire about Mare’s emotional well-being. And what influence Cal had on her.
Yet she took Cal’s hand now and he squeezed back so readily he must already understand how to or not to touch Mare. Cal looked like he was about to kiss her and even as he didn’t, their eyes spoke enough.
“I’ll get more cake,” Cal said and Mare nodded.
“Bring some for us,” she replied, and dropped next to Shade, inspecting Clara. “Seems like I didn’t scare her,” Mare said, glancing up at Shade. “Not that Farley takes revenge on me.”
“What?” Shade twitched then cackled under his breath. He could imagine Diana doing that. “You would not risk that.”
“I would not have risked holding her but you made me!” she whispered and laughed. “Would Farley have let me? How is she?” Shade gasped while Mare was still amused. “Did she not want to come? Or she did want a little break? That she lets Clara out of her sight …”
“Tired,” Shade answered quickly, “she’s still tired.” He fixed his eyes on Clara who met them happily. Content and trusting. Already, she had grown used to him. She should be used to Diana. Dee should be here, too.
Mare noted his sudden anxiety. She grasped his arm. “Hey …”
He cleared his throat. “She is alright,” he said, “but I miss her.” Mare frowned. “Since Sara healed her, she sleeps all the time.”
“Ah –”
“I should’ve waited until she is better.”
Mare waved off. “But I am glad to meet her,” she said, with a sudden intensity. “I am happy for you.” Her sincerity stunned Shade and it was like no one else meant it like Mare did. Only Diana – yet she, of course, had invested the most and needed all her determination. No, everyone else congratulated them with caveats, aware of he demands and conflicts Clara brought to their lives. Including Mom.
Mare pressed his wrist to stress her point and Shade’s gaze fell on her own scarred wrists. Of course. They couldn’t simply be happy about Clara while Mare was imprisoned. He swallowed. Maybe Mare was naïve, unconcerned about the challenge a baby was, yet Mare could be freely elated about Clara because her birth coincided with her own freedom.
His throat growing tight, he made himself smile at her. Mare seemed hardly aware of his revelation. Her expression shifted to mischief.
“No problem for me,” she whispered confession-style, “easier to meet Clara without her mom’s eagle eye.”
“Our mom has eagle eyes, too,” he said. Indeed, she kept watching for Clara while taming his brothers and playing charming host to Cal and Cameron, who came with Gisa.
“You have eagle eyes,” Mare countered. “I mean, you’re nicer than Farley but you’d chide us immediately because you show-off are already so skilled with her.”
Shade flushed. “That’s … right.”
Mare’s smirk was subdued. “Being a dad makes you predictable.”
He snorted. “One has to be, Clara is unpredictable enough.” He blinked. “I’m so afraid for her future, Mare.”
Mare squeezed his arm. “You know how many times you saved our asses? Several times over. You’ll save her from everything, too.” She spoke of his ability that he had not even used on Clara yet, wanting to spare her the ordeal, since Dee struggled with it, since he wished to keep her away from the war. But maybe Mare had a point – if he could not always keep the dangers far from her, it was better to get Clara used to teleporting.
And find reassurance in having an ability to protect people.
Diana had voiced her insecurity about returning to battle but he’d already decided he would not let her return alone. He’d train with her, and insist she grew used to teleporting again, too. It seemed almost funny, to imagine himself coaching her and giving her orders.
Would it be like ordering her to get acquainted with his family? He was not so sure Diana would be intimidating the Barrows but be the one intimidated. She was reserved with his family, oddly shy for such a confident woman, and reverting to cool mode among them. Her distance left her apart so his family reacted in turn, but he believed that would end when they saw how infatuated she was with Clara. She couldn’t hide it. His family would meet another Diana Farley and it was long time he helped her over her shyness.
“Diana can test you next time,” he announced to Mare who was just receiving cake from Cal, stuffing her face with a bite.
“What?”
“Yes, that,” Shade said. “Diana will come soon for some cake, too.”
Although Mare swallowed her cake, she was focused on Shade and Clara. “Honestly, I’m excited to see it,” she said, confirming Shade’s plan. “As long as I don’t trigger her ire.”
Her eyes were full of tenderness as she watched him caress Clara’s cheek. “Duh, I can’t believe how sweet and calm she is,” she marvelled. “I just wait for her to start screaming. Especially when I held her.” She coughed. “Is she not like her mother?”
Shade bristled. “I have never thought of that –”
“Oh yes, so Farley never screams at you?”
Blood rushed to his face. “Umm.”
Mare scoffed. “Don’t continue.” She cackled, and Shade, with delay, fell in. Meanwhile, Cal was bewildered, his fork halted midair. He quickly raised it when he realized they had noticed.
He must be unused by Mare and Shade’s teasing, slightly filthy banter. Shade was glad they could banter at all and Mare just rolled her eyes. She pulled at Shade’s sleeve. “Look at these gossips.” Her chin pointed to Bree, Tramy and Kilorn. “They look like some conspirators planning a coup but I bet they either make fun of us or brag about the trouble they cause here.”
“And leave us to clean up after them,” Shade added quietly.
Mare grinned. “But you’re the best at getting away with it.”
He sighed. “Only I don’t have time for trouble.” Clara wriggled, a frown on her face. Soon, she would want something and Mare could testify how Clara screamed. He rocked her to pacify her a little longer.
“Good Gisa never became a troublemaker,” Mare said and Shade glanced at her sharply.
“How could she? Once she had a job, she felt responsible for all of us,” he said. “She’s so diligent with Clara’s clothes, too.”
Mare shook her head. “No, I mean, yes …” She exhaled. “I mean, she’s not plotting but close with Cameron. It’s great they found each other.”
Despite her proclaim, Mare appeared a little aghast, too. More than about him and Diana and Clara, even. He wondered how much Cameron would needle Mare as Gisa’s girlfriend. “I could make sure they’re really not plotting,” Shade said, standing up. “They’re next to be introduced.” As with Mare, he wanted to show his trust to Cameron who was also insecure about her ability as well as babies and had been shocked to learn about him and Diana being in love. She could see how real they were, even without Diana present, in shape of Clara.
Although he better made haste as long as Clara was calm. He didn’t regret lingering with Mare and Cal. He inclined his head to them. “It was nice to chat.” As he went, Mare waved him off while Cal’s gaze stayed on them. As if he still felt out of place.
If anything, Shade was out of place, coming without Diana while Cal and Cameron were here. He could almost envision her joining in the biting remarks between the beaming affection she showed him and Clara. But he couldn’t afford regrets surfacing when he had to finish this task. The sooner he could return to Dee and report her what she’d missed.
He was getting used to opening doors while holding Clara. He took pride in the small things, chasing off sour moments. What he wasn’t used to was Diana standing before him dressed in trousers, barely fitting despite a belt, but with a crisp shirt fresh from the closet. Catching his gasp, he took a step back.
“You’re up,” he said, an elated smirk spreading on his face.
She smirked right back, almost running into him with impatience to snatch Clara. “Finally fit again,” she managed to reply as Clara stole all her attention. Unlike herself, she was clumsy, still learning to hold Clara who she grasped only tighter. Shade chewed his lip, refraining to advise her, until she looked up at him, still beaming, and he rushed to hug them both.
“Hey,” Dee whispered.
He nuzzled her and kissed her temple. “I should’ve brought you along,” he said.
“Hm?” She blinked.
Leaning away, he explained, hands brushing her arms. “If you’re better, you could’ve come with me to showing Clara to my family. You’re part of it now.”
A blush belied her usual self-assurance. Her mouth twitched as she struggled to stay smooth before she went to the couch and settled Clara on her lap. “Bad timing,” she said eventually, motioning for him to join her on the other side of the table. “I didn’t know.” Smiling, she fussed with Clara’s hair while Clara stretched her little arms.
She didn’t seem disturbed after changing, nor that Dee had replaced him. Did she know Mama as well as Papa? She hadn’t been as close to Dee the last days. “Do you regret it?” Shade asked somberly. “Missing her first days?”
There was a second of delay, occupied with her baby as she caught Clara’s hand, before Dee shook her head. She adjusted Clara and met his face. “Sara told me I’d be bleeding and sore for weeks,” she informed him. “I can’t regret avoiding that, on top of everything.”
Shade sucked in a breath, remembering that moment yesterday morning.
“But I want to try breastfeeding again,” she announced. “Even if I have to bother Sara again if I can’t stand it.” She sighed.
He smiled in support. “It’s the least you can ask for.”
“It’s a privilege,” she corrected.
He reached out, rubbing her leg. “I don’t regret being alone with her either. We bonded. But I missed you. Not just with my family.”
She looked at him with such focus he flushed. “That relieves me,” she said with emphasis, full of gratefulness. “I don’t want to avoid your family either,” she admitted after a pause. “You’re such a charmer you excel at bridging our differences.”
“You are not that different from them,” he insisted, although he’d thought the same. But he had to encourage her.
She titled her head. “Next time, then,” she said, “but you know, I had my own visitor, in fact.”
He noticed a bottle and glasses of lemon water on the table. Whom did she host? Shade wondered and feared of the colonel had snitched on their latest confrontation. Diana gave no clue but filled a glass for him before she kicked off her unlaced boots to reveal bare feet whose sight was distractingly captivating. She might’ve grabbed new clothes to be presentable but gave up on socks.
He drank from his glass to gather himself with the fresh, sour taste. Almost choking on it when he found Dee watching him as if guessing his unchaste thoughts about her ankles.
He was surprised she didn’t talk to Clara as she usually did. He could tell she wanted to but refrained. She fixed the baby with one hand on her lap and drank herself. “I’ve heard you quarrelled with my father,” she said.
Well, shit. But it didn’t sound like he’d talked to her himself. How did she “hear” things when she was barely out of bed anyway? Shade cleared his throat. “You haven’t met him, after Clara was born,” he defended himself. “He was so pressuring, like he couldn’t wait for you to get back to work again, like Clara was just –”
Dee held up a hand. “I believe you.” She sighed, pondering. The silence did not calm him. He could see how recovered she was, though, her scheming face returned even when Clara was with her.
“For a time,” she said at last, “I believed he understood. That I would not give up Clara, and that he would, if not support, but at least not sabotage us. That he wished us the best.”
Shade twitched. The colonel had seemed eager to visit Diana three days ago, and tried to show his concern yesterday. But that only ever came in small dosages.
“That changed when I was promoted,” Diana said, with a note of bitterness. “Not out loud, not directly, but the two weeks I’ve been general, he dropped task after request after problem on me. He needed no words to tell me I had giant demands to live up to, since …”
“Hm?”
She groaned. “Since I got the job, and not him.”
Shade gaped. “You think he’s envious?!”
She shrugged, in resignation. “Is that a surprise? He has to accept I’m his superior now, and already on leave with a baby.”
“Command trusted you with this, still.”
“Command doesn’t care how I handle my baby.” Her hand on Clara was tight, protective and possessive while her face was serious. “You see …” She shook her head and faced him. “I told you already.”
Told him about her worries to get fit in time for the battle she was to lead. “I won’t let you go alone,” he said, “just as I’m there for Clara. As is my family.” Would the colonel be there for Clara, too, or only request more input and results?
It was enough to lighten her up, so much heaviness lifted from his heart. “Don’t you prove that every day?” she said, tilting her head. “But it’d be easier if you got along better. This ... fighting doesn’t help.” Still, there was no blame in her voice, only frustration about her father.
Shade lowered his eyes. “I admit, he appeared to try a softer approach. But I riled against him, too.” Diana waited and he looked up. “But he needs to treat Clara better,” he insisted. Briefly, he considered if asking about her eyes was an attempt to be. But what did her eye colour matter if he couldn’t be a grandfather to her?
“He does,” Diana agreed. “He will,” she added with quiet determination. Shade wondered how. Maybe nothing was more relevant than respecting Diana’s needs as a mother.
“I’ve caught up a little, thanks to Ada,” she went on then, pointing to some papers on the desk he couldn’t remember appearing. So it was her who came by? “And I see, you remain prepared?” She gestured to the weapons he holstered, in addition to her own stock in the suite. Shade nodded, relieved at the change of topic, although “prepared” seemed an exaggeration. He put on the holster with his clothes but hadn’t thought of actually using them for days.
Yet of course, she expected him ready to defend them at any moment, especially when she was missing in action. “Either way, Davidson knocked while I was reading,” she mentioned en passant, finally revealing her mysterious visitor.
“Is that wise?” he asked.
“Hm?”
“You’re still on leave officially but made an exception for the foreign leader.”
“It’d be less wise to refuse him – he told me important news.”
“Yes, though –” Shade breathed out. “Now you’re better, why not meet with your Guard soldiers? Show you’re still one of them. They’re curious about you.” Ada must’ve been disappointed to miss Clara when she came by. She was the most curious about her and Dee.
“You talked to them?” She raised her eyebrows. “They just don’t want to get a look at Clara?”
“Short chats in the mess hall.” He shrugged. “They want to see you, happy, healthy and on fire.”
Dee played with Clara’s fingers, the baby eager to join in and stretch her limbs. She’d been tucked in enough while Shade carried her around. “So I am,” Diana agreed and smirked. “See, I was right to promote you, already advising me.”
He inclined his head. He hardly felt like a soldier right now. “You don’t have to tell me what Davidson said if I don’t have clearance.”
“Ah, that.” Dee twitched, as if caught. “I’ll have to decide how to use this,” she said, but still sounded like she evaded an issue.
“Don’t tease me if you can’t tell,” he replied.
“It concerns you too, though,” she persisted. Leaning over, she shoved a paper over the table toward him. “Davidson gave this to us.”
Only this, he decoded, now certain there was something she didn’t share. But he moved to pick up the sheet and was astonished to find a monfortan birth certificate for Clara Farley-Barrow.
He read it several times, trying to understand. Still bent over it, he peered at Diana. “Is that a bribe?”
“An invitation, he called it. A present.”
Shade cackled. What a birth present. “An invitation to Monfort? It could be a trap.”
She lowered her head. Immediately, Shade wanted to refuse, just for the audacity. “We know nothing about Monfort,” he said.
“Indeed,” she agreed. “He offers us to learn more.”
“Can’t wait for us to go to him?”
“There’re many reasons we should. It’s at his cost.”
He stared at her. A bribe, for sure. A personal reason to go there, to tie the Guard, their daughter, to Monfort and Davidson. Shade should push it away, let Dee make a polite refusal. That Davidson gave Diana this, on top of recent secret intelligence while she was on leave, proved how much he treasured her, wanted her favour and alliance. Was this appreciation or catching her in a net, leaving her, in a delicate position with her newborn family, indebted to him? And yet. He had to record every letter of it, could not look away. All these stamps and fancy signatures, names and information, on Clara, neatly spelled out, so … official.
It had been a long time since anything about him had been official, and all of it anticipated trouble. The sight of his daughter’s name and birth data, including their own names on this document estranged him. It made Clara feel more real. But how could a piece of paper feel more real than her body? He shook his head. No, not her body, but her future, rights and records.
Clara wasn’t just the baby in their arms, but a part of this world.
He gulpewd. “We never considered documents. How could we?” he said. “Can’t walk to a town hall and tell the silvers, ‘it’s us, the wanted insurgents, and here’s our baby daughter so you can conscript her in 18 years’?”
Dee nodded but he saw her grasp on Clara tense. The mere idea tugged at her instincts.
“Dee, say something,” he urged.
She was alert, too, lifting Clara. “I didn’t think of documentation either. What for?” she answered. “It does nothing to protect her now. She is with the Guard. You were registered dead, and so was I, years ago. The Lakelands didn’t bother to check if my father and I were among the dead – maybe they changed that by now, I don’t know. I …” She couldn’t continue, just like him.
“Maybe,” he began, “I wished to register her in a different Norta. A government we build.”
“I … yes,” Diana agreed, cuddling Clara close to her chest. “I wish.”
Away from that imaginary place and paper, his focus returned to the one before him. They could register her in neither Norta, the Lakelands nor Piedmont, but Monfort? An unknown place, albeit a promising one. Davidson might intend to trap them with a present they could not refuse, could they? A birth certificate, citizenship, offered security and possibilities for Clara in Monfort. “Can we deny her this?” he murmured.
Suddenly, he wanted to hug Clara. Give her immediate safety if not a future one. It came crashing down on him again, the duty to protect her. A hitch rose in his throat. “Norta can’t conscript her if she isn’t nortan,” he continued. “Though isn’t the war over?” Weeks after Maven allied with House Cygnet, he still couldn’t quite believe it. If it weren’t the Lakelands fighting Norta, they’d fight something else together. Not something. Them. The Scarlet Guard, and Monfort, sooner or later. No, he couldn’t let Clara be part of either party. He would –
“Shade …!” Diana called as he began to sob. She rushed over, no idea where she left Clara. He covered his face in a useless try to stop the tears finally coming. Funny, how Diana’s tears had flustered him when his had just bided their time.
How could Diana stand it, this fear? She’d been so afraid for her during pregnancy and it was like it had evaporated once Clara was born and she could hold the living baby in her arms. It was the opposite for him. When Diana had handed her over and told him to keep her breathing, he’d finally realized she was his to keep alive, safe, fed and warm, every day, leaving him anxious unless she was with him for Shade to do something for her. Endless tasks, exhaustion and responsibility he’d readily welcomed and pulled himself together for as the toll was finally catching up with him while Dee –
“Shade,” she said again, hugging his head to her chest. Not leaning over or kneeling before him, she sat down on his lap. It wasn’t comfortable because she was heavy, but he didn’t mind. Her mass, as much as her skin, her touch, her strokes though his hair as she whispered to him, were a counterweight to the burden over them.
“I’ve never asked anything from you,” Dee said softly, “besides to look after her when Sara treated me. But you did it anyway. And you’re so wonderful with her. So dedicated. Skilled. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I could do nothing to help you. Left you alone with her …”
He clasped her wrist, looking up. “You did more than enough, and I had to make up …” He swallowed and cupped her face. “We made her, Diana. We. She didn’t ask and she is helpless and she loves us unconditionally. She is our duty. No matter how we fuck up and disappoint her or leave her alone.” As he sobbed, it was Diana who cradled his head. “She needs us. So much.”
“Shh.” She touched her brow to his. But you do all that,” she said. “Perfectly. And now I’m here too, and … well, I love her unconditionally. And so do you.”
In the end, he hadn’t needed to say it. It was so obvious despite his former doubts. “I’m scared shitless for her,” he confessed. Did Dee understand how frightening this was? “I love her so much it hurts to consider ...” He shifted to embrace Diana tighter.
She had the audacity to smile again. “Perhaps … I’m not surprised to hear that.” As if she’d foreseen that, the old schemer. Her smile was too bright to reject, but before he could make a retort or just grin back, she kissed him – softly.
“If I tell Davidson the certificate made you cry,” she murmured as she pulled away, “I can press another favour out of him,” she added.
“Certificates for all of us?” he proposed, “or more firearms?” He cackled, raw from crying. Was it even a favour if they used his tears? It cost Davidson little to share intel Dee would’ve learned of soon anyway or to grant a monfortan birth certificate to one single baby.
Probably, Davidson was ready to invite the rest of their family to Monfort. There was talk of that before, but a debt to Davidson was still in the room. He sighed. “You didn’t need to ask,” he rasped, “that I take care of Clara. Did you think I would’ve handed her over to my mother completely?” Diana gasped as he spoke on. “I’ve promised not to leave you. You can and could rely on that.”
“I would’ve been so angry if you took off during the birth,” she confessed, tracing a line on his neck.
He caught her wrist. “How could I?” he said. “I’ve promised as much, and you did all that, the pregnancy and our work. You deserved your rest.”
She blinked. “We can do this,” she assured him. “If we can topple monarchies, we can raise a child.” With the way her strokes on his skin comforted him, he almost believed her. He would believe her everything. Couldn’t she accomplish anything? If not, he’d help her, embracing his own talent for the impossible.
She inclined her head. “She was born alive, so the hardest is done.” He’d guessed she thought so, although she was up to learn better. “I’d do everything to keep her alive,” Diana went on. “Even …”
He grasped her tighter. “Even?”
She gathered herself. “Even leave her behind to fight. Stay apart to lure enemies away from her.”
He wondered how she knew this when she’d been unconscious for days. Shade could hardly imagine doing that. Having Clara out of his sight pained him. “I …” He looked away. Maybe that was what the monfortan birth certificate would offer her – give Clara a safer place to live than follow the Scarlet Guard escaping from secret base to base. An option for the future.
“No need for that yet,” he said, tipping Dee’s nose mockingly. “Now she wants her parents close. Both of us.”
“I will …” A whimper startled Diana and evolved into a loud cry – from the floor.
Shade chuckled as he disentangled from Diana, oddly relaxed. He was used to how Clara’s cries took a moment to reach full volume, like a part of her personality already showing. He picked her up with routine. “As she demands,” he said, and the following laugh released the last of his tension. “She puts us to the test.”
Diana, on the other hand, was daunted, to his amusement. Shifting Clara smoothly, he took Dee’s hand, pulled her close, and kissed her. “I’ll show you how,” he promised.
A/N 2: I imagine Shade less suspicious of Cal than Farley and Cameron are in canon. Firstly, he is occupied with his own self-doubts to mistrust another, and he witnessed himself how far Cal is willing to go for Mare (coming in "To Find the Way Through").
After this chapter, we'll finally return to the start!
Red Queen Fan Fiction - To Find the Way Through Part II
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
Part 1
Part 2
10115 words
Part II
Now
Shade Barrow was called warm, smiling, charming, a person who won others over as if he caught them with the honey of his eyes. Whereas, by virtue of his ability, he evaded all strings.
Tonight, Shade didn’t feel any of that, and he hardly considered himself free of bounds. But knowing himself, he registered the dark mirrors of those traits, how to lie, deceive or – also by virtue of his ability – even kill.
He employed the sinister reflections as a shield when he and Cal returned to their unit.
“Five minutes until relocation,” Shade yelled. He glimpsed at Cal standing straight and princely beside him, fuelled by purpose, as he watched the team react to the order. “Pack lightly,” Shade added. “Four kilogramm per person.” Even than felt too generous given Shade had to jump all of them away. Still they grumbled at that, realizing it limited food supplies if they took the remaining weapons. Shade hardened his face, ready to bark back if they got louder. He emulated Diana although he didn’t reach her leadership skills. Tough and rough, her demands made people strive to meet them, as if to find rewards she never had to promise. She woke people’s ambitions, had achieved a perfect balance of bossiness while Shade had merely mastered being nice.
He bit back the niceties as Cal cleared his throat. The exiled prince didn’t speak but Shade had ideas what to expect: prepare his secret attempt to take Mare back from Maven. Who would they choose to accompany them, when to go, and exactly where to and how to infiltrate the place? Shade glanced over the team, assessing, yet instead of picking someone, Cameron approached him.
“What are you and Cal doing?” she asked. The girl could be annoyingly smart.
“A few kilometers away,” Shade explained. “Leaving the crash site for the rest of the night, to travel on foot tomorrow.”
“Forget orders, Barrow,” Cameron countered. “We worked without before –”
“We, Cameron?” Shade asked sharply and was about to clasp her arm when she flinched. He pulled back quickly and straightened. Exhaled. She didn’t trust him to touch her, to take the chance to carry her away who knew where.
“We’ve lingered too long,” Cal helped out. He met Cameron’s fierce eyes. “We can’t discuss this. Pick what you need.” He inclined his head and pulled Shade aside again, leaving the others to prepare by themselves. He must trust them to manage, or simply could not bother when they had to plan their own secret operation.
Cal motioned for Shade to sit down. “Can you bring then all away and jump 70 km more?” he asked. “With your injury?”
“Don’t you know more about skinhealing?” Shade sighed and sat down. “I’ll have to.”
Cal let him breathe for a moment. “Sara used her own energy on you,” he mused. “That should deal with your exhaustion. But the shoulder itself will need further check-ups later.”
“Thanks for your expertise,” Shade said yet closing his eyes to use the little break. When he opened them, Cal offered him a snack bar and a bottle. Shade received both gratefully and ate.
“Still, since the travel will challenge you enough, we do need another person.” Cal’s tone was serious despite his care for Shade’s well-being. “Nix would have been best.”
But stoneskin Nix was dead and would not have been on this unit’s plane of young operatives anyway. “Do you have an idea how he died?” Shade asked between bites. He could not imagine it. As a newblood stoneskin, guns, blades or fire had been meaningless to Nix.
Cal’s face darkened. “He must have been choked,” he said. “Some elementals use similar tricks in the arenas."
This was not a topic for eating.
“Or Elara got him.”
“Elara?” Shade gasped. How? Nix was impervious to his own gun as well what Elara could turn against him.
“Choked him,” Cal repeated and lifted his hand and tightened it to a fist.
Shade was all too aware of the food moving down his throat when thinking of Elara making Nix use his own hands to kill himself. Be it by strangling or eating soil. It was so sickening Shade was glad Mare had fried the queen.
He rose like a flash and walked on. They would save Mare from such a fate. Already, images of torture and execution threatened him if they didn’t act immediately.
“Or Cameron,” Cal said behind him, also back on track.
Shade glanced over his shoulder. “Have you not seen her just now? She isn’t easily convinced.” Cal’s gaze didn’t waver. “Her silencing sounds great but you really believe she’s ready to inhibit the security as we and Mare walk free?”
Finally, Cal lowered his head as he reached Shade. “She’s too untrained,” he agreed. As if he liked to sound like it was all about practical skill considerations.
Cal followed Shade as he walked back to the team. “Your brothers –”
Shade scoffed. “My brothers weren’t trained to infiltrate holding facilities, your highness. They learned to survive the Choke trenches by themselves.” Cal winced. “And I can’t risk more of my family.” He didn’t think about whether Diana and his family found him risking himself acceptable.
Back with the others, only waiting for the go to jump, Cal whispered. “We need to discuss the basics. Maven will land at this base to interrogate Mare ASAP, to strike back at –”
Shade waved him off. “No time, Cal. When we have the third.”
They could not pick a Scarlet Guard operative fresh from Tuck who might spill their plan as they had no loyalty to Mare, Cal and Shade. Most newbloods had a useful ability but no sufficient fighting skills for this mission. Who they required was –
“There’s our man.” Crance strode through the unit as if taking a – sneaky – walk. Perfect. Shade appraised him as Cal required a second to understand. No half civilian newblood, no soldier sticking to orders, regardless how rebellious. The smuggler from the Mariners gang had the best experience at break-ins to wreak havoc – or retrieve a hostage. He had only to agree. Which was an obstacle, given their limited time and Shade’s little clues how to motivate Crance. How had Diana even convinced him first to join the Scarlet Guard and then their little runaway group?
Shade was so focused he missed Kilorn stepping into his way. Shade was too startled – like a result of his ability? So used to cross every place, he overlooked who was in between. Kilorn grabbed his right shoulder, staring him down.
“I’m not at fault for what you told Farley,” Kilorn insisted.
“…” Shade was unprepared to return to their spat. He had a mission.
Crance had noted their singling him out and covered the distance, his blue eyes curious.
“What did you quarrel about?” Cal asked, suddenly interested in Shade screaming Kilorn down after half an eternity.
Shade grasped Kilorn’s wrist and removed his hand. “I'm sorry,” he bit out under watch from the others, to Kilorn’s slight satisfaction.
“What about Farley? Why didn’t she come?” Crance added in on top. Of course he wondered about her absence, he had worked closest with her who valued him as an asset. Crance had no reason to be glad she wasn’t here. Unlike Shade, so relieved no crash had injured her nor captors taken her away in her state. Damn it. He’d pushed back his relief and his fear about what could’ve happened to her and now they surged up. He couldn’t let them. Any distraction, any pointless fear or moment of hesitation could equal Mare’s death.
“That’s private!” Shade snapped, forgetting to make veiled comments about reassignments and classified information. He used the silence caused by his bark. “Crance, would you be interested to join a little break-in after we move the others away?” Shade’s face had to look pleading but to his luck, the smuggler merely grinned with anticipation. Shade understood. They all rather risked chaos than endure inaction.
Then
It was daunting to wake expecting to go to war, especially if your ache woke with you. Shade’s limbs were numb and heavy, his mauled left shoulder piercing. He flinched when he stirred, stalling to move. Not that it was easy, with Diana clinging to his right side, his right palm buried under her hip.
Fortunately, her lids fluttered as well. As feeling returned, his left hand tickled her am. She moaned, both unnerved and eased, as she struggled to disentangle their legs, lifting herself with effort to steer clear of his left side. Still, the brush of her skin, and the breeze of air as she rose, increased the wish to explore her soft skin. Her smell reached him as she slid out of the bed and he bit his lip.
He yearned to continue tracing the new sensitivity of her body which was doubly silly, as she’d been just as pregnant the weeks before, and he still felt a whiff of shame of deception over sleeping with her last night.
Although no regret, it had been too joyful, urgent, reviving, too reciprocated. Once he’d started to comb through her short yellow curls, he was lost in amazement to be able to do this, to have a heartbeat and the hands to touch her and effortlessly, thoughtlessly, their touches became more intimate. Diana was no less fascinated as she undid his bandage to study the massive new scar on his shoulder and chest and kept her palm tracking his shifting and craving pulse the whole time. After all, the pretense of precaution had turned out unneeded, and the temptation to fuck right under the colonel’s nose was too irresistible. As if bringing Diana back to Tuck pregnant wasn’t enough of a slap to her father, although in fact, she had dragged him here. But the image spoke for itself.
Her concerned gaze at him killed the moment of memory again, recalling, as they dressed, the tasks to face.
Command’s reply from last night returned to him:
“Remain on Tuck during reassessment and arrange with Colonel Farley in the meantime.”
Shade wondered if the generals of Command or whichever idiot clerk wrote the message had any common sense of empathy. Great, telling Diana to defer to her father after informing him she was pregnant when she’d literally run away from him.
Settle your family problems by yourself, it seemed to say, and that was what they planned to do next. Give her father a heads-ups rather than let him hear it from Command.
Once he was dressed, their eyes met, as if by chance, and he obeyed the urge to hug her, an attempt to retrieve the encouragement of lovemaking. At least he called it that, make it seem useful when it felt like he’d used – deceived – her. She’d wanted it, yes, yet he’d meant to and evaded to share his true, complicated, uncertain thoughts about their child and not their bodies and climax.
Only afterwards had he dared to touch her belly, only in bed when they were cuddling anyway, as if there was no outstanding reason to. But – there was, because it was his left that splayed on her abdomen, the hand he’d almost lost along with his life and that palm sought the little life that felt so frail, too, that Shade dreamed of as a tiny, fluttering butterfly.
Dee relaxed in his embrace, offered a smile. “I’m already hungry again,” she mumbled, “and also afraid I’ll be sick after three bites.”
He swayed with her, snapping a piece of leftover cake and ate it. Reluctantly, she took her three bites. Waited. Fingers tapping on the plate, she asked, “shouldn’t you eat more? You can. After almost dying, and healing.”
Food turning to stone in his stomach, he looked at her. “I’m still here,” he said. “I’m not leaving you.” He shoved an apple to her. “I’ll face it with you,” he added, “if you try to eat, too.”
For once, she obeyed him, nor did she get sick.
Death in battle appeared less threatening when you were about to tell a man hating you that you got his daughter pregnant. Shade didn’t know what to say to the colonel but hoped backing Diana helped for the beginning. They sat down in front of his desk and Diana started with platitudes, technicalities, asking for news of Tuck.
Shade didn’t quite hold her hand but Diana placed her hand on his, fingers sliding between his. A touch for display but not support like a lifeline. He tried to look neutral, any show of nervousness understated. All almost professional. There was normalness, hiding smugness, in it, given how they’d run away two months ago. Shade understood the approach, himself assessing the controlled and cool face of the colonel – waiting for the moment the Farleys abandoned restraint and started to scream at each other.
The colonel listened with a similar pretense of civility though Shade believed to catch an idea of suspicion on him. Rightly so.
“I have to talk to the envoy from Montfort myself,” Diana said now. “We have much to share.”
“He prefers to share much with Mare Barrow.” The colonel raised an eyebrow. “I wait for your report, too, Captain. Like why you bother me with silver ex-prisoners? Or why you plan to stay on Tuck now?”
“Mare is our asset. Of course Montfort is interested in her.” Diana smirked. “She excels in front of cameras,” she added, maybe thinking of her own Guard footage, and glanced at Shade. “But so is Shade. His efforts are invaluable, and he was just wounded in the last operation.”
“I’ll partake in my sister’s next mission too,” Shade announced. His face was to display strong resolution as both of them studied him.
But soon the colonel’s attention was on Diana again, as if he had no inkling why Shade had even joined this meeting. “But you won’t,” he said to her.
She swallowed. “As we’re back on Tuck, I plan to rearrange my focus of activities,” she replied.
Now she’ll say it.
“Why would …”
“I have informed Command to adjust my duties. Shade is with me. That’s why he’s here. We’re together. We’re expecting a child,” she quickly dropped piece after piece to get it over with to not lose the moment – and courage – over thinking about wording.
The colonel’s jaw fell.
Diana cleared her throat and her eyes didn’t waver. She glared at her father in challenge and it worked to shut down his worst impulses.
“I’m looking forward to it,” she added.
This was the time Shade should back her up yet every word eluded him, any sentence feeling formulaic and insincere. As he fought the blank in his mind, all he managed to do was stare back.
Luckily, the Farleys were a family used to exchange more glares than words so Shade evaded imminent disappointment by fitting in. Diana had spoken with a surety of his commitment that was foreign to him. Only her fire relieved him after her panicked breakdown yesterday.
Finally, the brooding, pregnant silence broke. “How can you forget what we wanted?” the colonel snarled. “Leave the cause behind –”
Diana exploded. “I just told you I’m making plans and not letting go! I’m even more driven – ” She took a breath, now squeezing Shade’s hand, and knowing she had her father’s attention, went on with a dangerous calm. “Why do you insist the cause excludes behaving like family?”
Something burned in her eyes and Shade noted a shiver in their entwined hands as quiet returned with a conversation took place between their eyes that Shade didn’t understand. He expected them to scream at each other but it seemed like the topic was old to them. And also like they had never put it in words.
Diana wants a family, Shade thought, I’ll be her family. But before he could say that aloud, she inclined her head and stood up.
“If anything, you stopped my commitment,” she accused the colonel. “You locked us up until we were forced to escape. And still we were successful operatives.”
“With whose authorization –”
She didn’t allow him to finish. ”Command agreed with me. You were impeding the safety of our oathed operatives. Obviously you have no place to underestimate me,” she concluded.
Shade rose with as the colonel considered an answer. Don’t underestimate her, Shade almost said but just repeating her words would merely look ridiculous. He left it at flashing another glare as they moved to the door.
When Shade was already out, the colonel called back. “Diana, wait.” To Shade’s surprise, she stopped and turned, then pushed against Shade to signal he should keep out.
Like she realized what a let down he was. She rather faced her father alone. He had said her name in a way so different from Shade’s, with a cold reprimand that pierced Shade through while Diana appeared only exasperated, as if she was used to it.
Out of shame, Shade leaned against the door to eavesdrop. Diana hadn’t fully closed it, like an invitation.
“And I thought you’d spare me the slut-shaming. You only use my name to make the chastising hit harder,” Diana said venomously. “But you have no issue telling me what to do with my own body. My own flesh and blood.”
"Why are you risking your life -"
"I'm rather used to risking my life. I believe in my survival."
The colonel murmured something. “…aware of your capabilities.” What was that an apology?
No. “How will it look? If you lost control of your own body –”
“Maybe I didn’t.” Shade gasped along with the colonel. Obviously, she had not planned a pregancy yet she went on smoothly. “Our soldiers will see how in control I am.” She coughed. “How would it look if the Guard wanted me to give up my child?” She added, like Shade had reminded her yesterday. He hoped it sank into the colonel as another pause lasted.
Eventually, the colonel continued. “Do you believe the …newbloods will still care their blood is red in a few years?”
Shade iced over as Diana snorted. “The silvers are killing them. Have hidden their existence for decades – I don’t know how long. Shade learned it firsthand. He has evidence of the cover-up.”
He blinked against his freeze. As if he carried those papers presentable on his person. But Diana knew how to argue. He’d find them again if the colonel wanted the proof.
“The montfortan envoy sounds different,” the colonel said.
“Is that so?” Dee questioned. “See, they want to be our allies now. Assets. We have to work with newbloods while we have the upper hand.” Incredible how collected she was today. She must’ve prepared for this meeting while Shade had whined to Kilorn.
“The Barrows …”
“Have you meet the Barrows here?” Diana snapped. “They’re a family, just like us.” She paused. “We love each other. If that’s suspicious to you, it’s your fault. Why would Shade want to get to know you if you are like this?”
She had defended him like this the whole meeting and Shade only felt guilt over it. He didn’t blame his wordlessness on the colonel but himself, and he could wallow in it during the longest silence yet.
“We can’t know what’s in 20 years,” the colonel said at last. “We have to be prepared.”
“In 20 years,” Diana replied firmly, “our child will be grown. And they might be newblood or not. I find that’s the least I worry about.”
She clasped the doorknob and Shade stepped back, so he almost didn’t hear the colonel.
“They’ll be a target.”
Dee breathed in. “I know.” Pause. “But when I risk so much, I can also risk affection. Should I give up even more of myself, who I love, because of the silvers? I thought you taught me otherwise, to not let them take everything from us?”
It was another moment before she finally exited, as if she waited for and received a reaction from the colonel.
Outside, she grasped for Shade, fixing his eyes. What did she look for, he wondered, the reason he’d failed so hard?
“You heard it,” she inquired instead and he nodded. She sighed. “I’m so sorry he is like that.”
What? He shook his head and she hugged him like the meeting had shaken her more than she said. Well, he could do this much and hugged her back as the pressure of performance fell off her. “He can never decide if he wants me to fail or to strive harder.”
“I expect nothing from him,” he said. “When he makes himself a villain, I take him as one.” She lifted her head and her eyes showed she did expect better. His heart broke for her, for the affection she still had for her father. He supposed the colonel felt similar about her, too. During the entire conversation, he’d barely paid attention to Shade. “To be honest, I feared he’d eviscerate me.” He grimaced.
“That would be beneath him.” She cackled when he blinked at that. “I don’t care about his sex life and he doesn’t care about mine.”
“Like you have … a deal? But what if … what if it was, umm, an enemy?”
“You worried a silver would woo me?” Her eyebrow twitched. “Even if, he trusts I’d keep my wits about any lover.”
“And now he questions if you have kept your wits?”
No longer joking, she froze. “I don’t know,” she said in a low voice. “After all, it does change my priorities.” She glanced down. “But not my wits. I need all my wits for this.” Diana straightened and caressed his cheek. “He wasn’t this way when we lived in the Lakelands with my mother and sister,” she said softly. “It’s like my father died with them.” Her throat bobbed. “A tiny, silly part of me wished he’d remember himself when I tell him of our baby.”
“Hey.” He cupped her face. “That’s not silly.”
“But unrealistic,” she insisted, and he could not deny that. Her brow fell against his. This was why she didn’t give up on the colonel. She knew he could be different. “And what he says about newbloods …”
It had caught him cold to hear it, and he still felt icicles within him thinking about the insinuation regarding their child. The colonel’s attitude was disheartening, raising worries about the newbloods they’d saved these last months and now brought to Tuck. But this was another matter entirely, one he’d never considered at all – for the few days he had known about it. Yet how could the colonel come up with this right away when Shade had not? Because that was all he saw in Shade, a newblood menace? The colonel mistrusted would- and should-be allies and Shade only wanted to dismiss him for that. Though how could he, when they were tied by blood now?
“Have you ever considered it?” he asked Diana aloud.
She startled. “It doesn’t matter to me,” she claimed yet her blanched face was confirmation. “I just wondered if it was possible.”
“You did think about it,” Shade deduced.
“Well, I told you only a few days ago but I’ve suspected for weeks and had a lot of thoughts,” she rambled, grasping his shirt. “I merely asked Nanny about her children and she didn’t even answer …”
It wasn’t like he blamed her; he was aware how her mind whirled. Still, it was new to him and it pierced him to his heart.
He had passed this on to them. Or maybe not, but whether or not, as long as no one was certain, which might take years, their child would be a possible newblood and facing the same dangers and suspicion as he and Mare did. And he was responsible for that, had to teach them about abilities and silvers and surviving …
He swallowed, shaking, and holding on to Diana whose eyes widened when he was the one unsure on his feet.
“Are you …”
“I’m fine,” Shade insisted quickly, and cleared his throat under Diana’s watch. Cleared it again before he went on. “It’s okay, Dee, I understand.” He forced a smile yet hesitated to state that he hadn’t thought of it. Because he realized it revealed how little he’d thought about the baby at first until this possibility sprang into his face and reminded him how close, undeniable and real their connection was. Did that say the baby being newblood mattered to him as much as to the colonel?
“He’ll either accept us or not,” he said firmly although he wasn’t even sure if he meant us in he and Diana or us the newbloods.
Diana nodded slowly instead of digging furtherr and rather squeezed his arm. “He’ll be reasonable,” she said in a low voice, like a threat if the colonel wouldn't be. She shifted and motioned to walk ahead.
Frowning, Shade followed along. “Diana, what he said was his ‘reason’. To mistrust newbloods.” Better to complain about her father than stay on their specific newblood issue.
She breathed in, pondering as they walked and looking straight ahead. “If that’s so,” she began, “if he believes our child a future traitor, too, then I know which side I’m on.”
He might even make an exception of his special grandchild, Shade guessed. Or use newbloods for battle while his suspicions may never end.
Despite her words, it concerned Diana deeply although she appeared hardly surprised. Even her raging outburst was low-level, reined in. Her flesh and blood, she had told the colonel. She really meant that it didn’t matter to her, that the baby was hers either way.
She glanced over her shoulder to him. “I’m sorry he said all that,” she told him once more, her face serious. “As if you are … the newbloods belong to us. He has to learn that you …” she bit her lip.
“That I belong to you?” he concluded for her and she flushed, looking at him with such love, earnestness and ache he had no idea how to meet. It was like just knowing had changed her, left her careful and curious on another level. She wasn’t merely more circumspect emotionally. It showed a need of her, too, a need that wanted to fuss in reassurance and without saying so, he knew she craved reassurance for herself as well. He could smile for her sake. No, she made him smile. “It’s okay,” he said. “I know all that. You matter to me.” He swallowed. “And I should be sorry. I said nothing in there.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she replied with a weak, recovering smile. “You impressed him. Don’t you know how hot and dangerous you look when you turn off the sunshine?” Like the threatening newblood he was, neither of them said, because it wasn’t a problem for them. She leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Like you’d kill for me.” For us, she mouthed.
In return, he presented a face that was hopefully as hot and dangerous as she dreamed about.
And I’d do it again, he thought.
Diana found 1001 other tasks to accomplish before the take-off of the rescue mission that night. Control the preparations, check the running of Tuck base, hunt the envoy from Montfort to schedule a meeting and talk to every Guard she knew which were all of them, including their team from the Notch, now here as well. Running the Notch had been one thing and quite another how she unfolded on Tuck. Shade grinned along as she and Crance clapped hands. Was she already making up for the refraining from action to come? Shade, for sure, made up for their coming separation and stayed with her all the way. He wanted to reflect her self confidence, relieved it had returned despite her vulnerable moments that she revealed only to him.
And yet, didn’t pregnancy make her vulnerable by itself? He could not let her down during this time. Diana’s capability would not waver while he struggled to keep up, a tiredness surfacing by noon after a morning of running around. Maybe a residue of his injury and healing? He asked her for a break for lunch.
She agreed oddly quickly and he tried to simply take it in as they found seats, some rows away from Kilorn throwing him a judgingly curious stare. Whatever. Shade needed to enjoy having lunch with his girlfriend, before the fight called back, to eat and hold her close.
To not have to talk about serious issues, thank you very much, Kilorn. They’d had enough of that.
“Did you stay long with your family last evening?” Diana asked suddenly.
Shade startled, remembering how he’d whined to Kilorn during the time she meant. “I did not tell them anything, if you wonder,” he deflected. Dee circled her fork on her plate. Eating came easier to her at noon than mornings. “Do you think we should tell them?” he inquired. It could only be easier than facing the colonel but … well. It would be awkward on another level. Not a matter of informing a commanding officer but sharing their relationship with his family. Their future to come.
“Umm.” Her avoidance amused him and he cackled. “You don’t want to either!”
“It’s a bit much.”
Of course it was. Finally, she was tired. So was he, but fed, his mind became clearer. He was glad she seemed more flushed than sad, energized by their Tuck tour. He took her hand, palm on palm, and glided over each finger. “We don’t have to.”
She glanced down, watching their hands. “Would be better though. They shouldn’t learn of it through rumours and I would not like to explain it to them while you are away.”
“I’d never hear the end of it,” he murmured.
“We ...” She swallowed a last bite of her food. “We’ll visit before you leave and check how it goes.”
He inclined his head and, having cleared his plate, stood up. “Go to the bathroom before the mission briefing?” he said and pulled her hand up when she nodded. The briefing would be here in short time. “Come, let’s jump. We don’t have to walk this time.”
She stayed seated. “No.”
He bent half down. “I believe you were getting used to it?”
“Not anymore.”
“Because –” he blushed.
She shrugged. “Your teleporting made me sick before you even kissed me.”
His face only grew hotter. That he made her sick in two ways … like how he changed her required objective proof. It had seemed like her nausea had improved lately but probably, she had carefully noted her triggers and avoided them because she tried to hide the sickness from anyone else. As if the older newbloods could sniff pregnancy faster than him and she couldn’t bear to see their intimacy found out like that.
Sitting down again, he whispered to her. “You love me despite making you sick all the time?”
Her head jerked up. “You have many skills.” A smirk appeared on her face as her hand clasped his wrist tightly. “Not just that ability. I like when you show off that a little.”
Her gaze burned through him in a completely new way. In public? he wondered, as she glanced around the mess hall, shrugged, and kissed him. Throwing the habit of secrecy out of the window. Probably, their demeanour today had made their closeness obvious enough. Although it tickled him with awkwardness to open up now, it also excited him, so much he wished to show off his skills again, use the bed for a goodbye as he could nap on the plane to prevent his own flying sickness.
By the time she pulled away, he had forgotten the mess hall around them, or how long the kiss had been. He blinked as Dee returned to business. "We'll walk," she announced, and he groaned. “Briefing’s waiting.”
Then
During the briefing, Shade caught mere glimpses of Mare as she outlined the operation, oddly harmonized with the colonel and other officers providing support and adding in. Mare’s serious manner shaded his, though. Afterwards, Shade had a window of spare time with Diana, but the heated mood from lunch had left, the pressure of the mission already looming over him. Yet Diana walked steadily, with confidence, a smile playing on her lips, her fingers teasing him in a subtle attempt of cheer so they could linger in, savour this moment for the two of them as much as they could. And despite his low, Shade was excited to learn where she planned to lead them before the world fast-fowarded again. Until she stopped, spun on her heel and stood before him, leaning toward him and he cradled her elbows in response. “It was strange to meet the colonel again,” he said, “all business and competent.”
Dee nodded. “So you start to get how it is for me.”
Shade gasped, understanding. “I don’t think I can ever see him like that. A trustworthy superior, that is. It always comes back to awful he is to you, how he mistrusts me, and what he’ll think of our child –”
Her palm cupped his cheek and that could’ve been it, gazes tangled, their air shared. Her lips trembled. “I’m glad it’s yours,” she said.
His face flared, not ready for this reaction, this faith in him. He forced on the same smile he’d mastered these last two days and expanded it into a joke. “Why so?” he jested. “Looking forward to have my family with us?”
She frowned when he deflected from the obvious newblood topic. He'd approached it almost by accident while he himself questioned how to deal with it. Either way, he – they – were more than that, and he could do with less heavy issues before the operation, had only wanted another bout of sharing complaints about her father. But Diana blinked, confused, as if she'd expected differently, or at least thought he’d know and take it seriously. She pressed against him, urging. “Well, because I love you!” she exclaimed as one fist gripped his shirt while her fingertips resumed to trace caresses over his face. “Because we’re in love,” she said, softer now. “Together. Not someone …I’d never see again.”
He swallowed. “Would you even have done that?”
Fuck.
“What? Oh …” She looked away, flushed and annoyed. Since he’d assumed wrong – or too on point?
She turned back, straightening so a distance opened between them. “I have done that, for your information. Sex with someone I just met once. Is that okay with you?” Still red, she scowled. “That was a woman though …”
A coarseness had settled into their breathing, unwinding the moment of peace they’d been about to enter. He didn’t want to let it go, grasping its threads before it unravelled completely.
“So that’s how I discover your secrets,” he drawled, a playful hand fishing for the ends of her hair.
Becalmed, her hand sank to his shoulder, travelling further down to his chest. “And what about yours?” she whispered. Coming closer, almost to his ear, almost kissing –
It’d be so easy to follow suit, get wrapped up in this play. But she had revealed something of herself and asked for his secrets. He put his arms around her as his heart hammered, louder and louder. Could he not …?
His hands embraced her waist. “I’m not sure I can live up to that,” he said. His throat was tied. “How to face this. What to feel about this. Deal with it, and what your father implied …”
“Hmm?” She lifted her head yet her tender sound came along with a curious stare.
“Be … a father you’ll be glad of.”
Still she looked so understanding. “We can’t be certain of anything,” she said with gravity. “You have never failed me.”
Yet, he thought.
“We’ll try,” she went on, “as long as we’re sure …” she broke off. Stepped back. Shocked because she’d finally realized.
“You aren’t sure,” she stated with narrowed eyes. “You …” Her hesitation was palpable, not wanting to believe. How could she? He’d told her to be sure all day. “You don’t want it.”
“I am not sure.” He barely heard himself for the ringing in his ears. He watched Diana yet hardly saw what went through her mind. “A baby will stay with us for the rest of our lives …”
“Maybe that is what I want,” she snapped then bit her lip. “To not be alone again,” she added quieter and snorted as if to return to attack. “You didn’t say anything,” she said, her head tilted. “Not today, nor yesterday. Not when I told you I might be pregnant, not anytime before …!” Her voice shook, her chest heaving. “You … you didn’t think you needed to?”
“You never asked me how I felt!” he countered. “You didn’t say how you feel! You’ve been …” But she wasn’t quiet anymore, she had just opened up to him.
Yet as he faltered, her own thoughts and suspicions ran on. “Because …” Something had shattered in her. “Because you expected I wouldn’t want it.” Tears rolled down silently over her face. He had never seen her like that. Her voice didn’t waver but her expression spoke for itself. That sight pierced him so deeply he almost missed her words. What hurt her so?
He should’ve used the seconds she glowered at him. Should’ve grasped her, apologized, explained and made up. In fact, maybe he was the one shocked to be caught and seen through. Until yesterday, he had not believed this was something she wished for. But had he not noticed the truth of her affection for their child …
He shook himself and tried to talk to her but before he found words again, she turned and dashed off with a “excuse me” before he could pull her back to tell her she never was what he expected. She had always been more than that.
Maybe he should gather himself before he ran after her. Prepare his words better – his confession had certainly failed in delivery. Should he not have told her? But … couldn’t they withstand honesty? Her reaction left him aghast, it was like she’d turned into the woman of ice she had been on their first meeting, cold and untouchable, yet while she had seemed incredibly fierce and powerful then, now she was about to shatter. He could not let that happen, let her break after he’d woken something in her, had chased away the cold. She had never been ice but was frozen on the outside. Her glaze had never deceived him, he had seen her ambition revealing of a woman full of wanting.
This was one want of hers, a longing for connection. She wanted their child with passionate, obstinate determination and was ready to protect her flesh and blood. He’d been exasperated when she procrastinated finding out for certain before the prison break. Now he understood – she’d been aware there was no going back for her. So ignorance was her only freedom. For a time.
“You expected I wouldn’t want it.”
Was this why Sara’s offer of abortion had irritated her so? She bristled against people assuming she didn’t want and love her child, believing she wasn’t a family person, and that stabbed her in the heart. And Sara was a professional, a silver following her standard procedure, and a stranger. It cut deeper when he was the one to assume so. Diana must be already anticipating backlash after she’d had a breakdown over that yesterday, and now she was in defense mode over her decision.
Shade groaned, regretting this understanding came too late. He clenched his fists and walked outside so the cold winds lashed against him, waking aches in his still sore shoulder.
He was guilty of making her cry like that, hadn’t thought he could. His mistake, expecting Diana couldn’t be hurt. If the colonel saw her now, he would … what? Shade was still surprised he got away from the colonel’s ire. He wondered if her father cared, looked only for a chance to scold Shade, or if Shade just wished someone would voice his shame as if an accusation absolved him of hurting Diana.
Did anyone but Shade care if Diana Farley cried?
The idea sounded too dark to face but he couldn’t push it away. Her friends were comrades first and she pretended to be strong for them; her father demanded her to be strong. Did she chide herself for crying?
His parents would have tsked if they knew, he was sure – but it’d still be about him, though, and not Diana. One day soon, she’d comfort her crying child. But who would comfort her?
Shade had to do it, if there was no one else. And he’d make others care for her.
He stumbled when he noticed a follower, gravel grinding beneath his boots.
It was her. For the first time, she was the one to sneak up on him and it’d be prime amusing if things weren’t so bitter between them right now. She froze as he startled, her moves controlled and delicate. Her hand reached out to him, as she met his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You did not think that. I mean, you were the first to figure out and say I want the baby.” She chuckled joylessly. “I shouldn’t blame you.” She pulled her hand back when he didn’t take it and he immediately regretted to have missed the chance. Now he was fixed on how her fingers knotted.
“But you were right,” he said hoarsely, “I didn’t know you wanted it – until yesterday. I told you. I can tell you want it. Love it.” Her gaze flipped to him. “You won’t let anyone take it from you, nor will I.
“But I made you cry, Dee. You should blame me.”
Her lids lowered. “That’s hardly the main matter here.”
There it was, she literally confirmed her tears had no consequence. He grasped her upper arm. “It does matter if you’re hurt,” he insisted. “And I shouldn’t be the only one who cares.”
He started to stroke her cheek, soft yet reddened, from cold and crying. Her eyes still bore the marks of tears, too. She breathed heavily and didn’t push him away, at least. Finally, she took his hand, leading him to stones to sit down on. Wind rushed over them that, blowing her curls over her face.
“Do you know why I cried?” she asked. He swallowed, inclined his head. She searched his face for the answer. “Who wants me to have it?” she went on. “Who trusts me to be a good mother? Or just to love it?”
He squeezed her hand. “I trust you to.”
She nodded with hesitation. “Yeah … I know. You’re different.” She looked down. Next to each other, their hands remained linked. Her hand picked up a branch, as if for distraction. “You have a right to be uncertain,” she said eventually. “I really don’t blame you.”
A bristle ran over him. Maybe he wanted to be blamed, because it meant she expected more of him, wanted him as a part of her future. Instead he’d let her down like everyone else, making it easy for her to keep distant. But wasn’t that on her? Why did he have to chase her to be with her?
She sniffed. “That didn’t even … I jumped to conclusions. That you thought … I thought, if you can’t imagine I wanted a baby, did you really love and know me?” She shook her head and glanced at him. “But that’s the thing, I didn’t know myself. I couldn’t allow myself to wonder.”
He entwined their fingers as she took a deep inhale. “I wasn’t fair to you. To make assumptions, blame you, or …” Another pause, her eyes set on him, flinching like she could cry again, or ached to bare herself. “I’m sorry. I can’t be fair, can’t give you a say in it.”
Since when did she apologize so much? He felt like falling, losing ground without the control he had when teleporting. He wished to pull her ever closer, embrace her, never let go until her sadness was gone. He only joined his other hand to hers, covering it with both of his. Maybe she had been wrong to, kept her heart too locked up, but this, these apologies, were like locking him out again because he'd voiced his doubts, although he fucking tried to be there for her.
He sucked in a breath. “How is it not fair? It should be your decision. If it was the other way round … if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t ask me either.”
“It’s not the other way round.” Her face was turned forward and the expression he glimpsed was shuttered. Had he said something wrong again?
He swallowed. “It means the world to you. I can already tell. Everyone will see, and understand. I could never, Diana, I could never take from you what you love this much.”
The winds scattered the silence between them, mingling with Diana’s sigh.
“It’s on me, too, on both of us,” he went on. “I should’ve asked about protection, and I never did. When … after the first time, you did bring it up, so I thought you took care the first time as well.” He remembered the awkward but numerous times his father, brothers and friends told him pulling back was not reliable, only to quietly add it was better than nothing and he hadn't even managed that.
Diana merely snorted. “Yeah, because I was embarrassed I forgot it the first time.” A snap rang in her voice that softened as she continued. “One time, I wanted to let go. Not think ahead, plan, scheme. But be free to enjoy.” She glanced at him, so full of fondness for that night like she didn't regret one second of it. He remembered how he'd felt the same way about it. Before. “And you’re very good at it,” she added and his cheeks heated and her mouth twitched. “I don’t … enjoy sex with just anyone, you know? You care for me, what I desire and … it showed.” Now she flushed. “And I enjoyed it because I care for you, too.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I didn’t think of an after pill either. But maybe it would’ve been too late until I found one anyway. And now I’m glad I didn’t. Or, I’m not sure. Of course this is a terrible situation for a child, but I still don’t know when I would’ve ever allowed myself. Or when the world wouldn’t be terrible.” She gripped her twig tighter, starting to draw in the soil with it while her palm was her belly. “It’s different when there is a baby,” she said. “I can’t, Shade. I can’t.”
Leaning closer, he unclasped a hand to stroke her back. “It’s, okay, Dee,” he whispered. “It’s okay to want …”
“Will you repeat all you said without meaning it?”
He gaped. “I do mean –”
“To comfort me?” She faced him. “You know what you sounded like. What you sound like now. I thought you were excited, happy and joyful along with me. To think you feel the same as I … it elates me. Every time. Until you didn’t.” She cocked her head and looked like she waited for protest. “I thought you wanted a family, because you love the one you have. But this is not the same, is it? Maybe I don’t really know you.” She swallowed at the admission. “Yet you were right to tell me all those nice things! I needed to hear it. Encouragement. I still do. But.” Her twig scratched on the earth.
“I can be there for you,” he claimed.
“If it’s not what you want? You don’t have to pretend and perform for my sake.”
He grasped her chin. “I don’t pretend to love you!”
“It’s not only about me! How could I let you fuss over me when our baby gets none of your attention?!”
He was taken aback, his pulse drowning every sound with a ring in his ears.
She had spoken a truth he had barely seen.
He tried to catch himself, find words and get overwater. “I do ... think about it. I was shocked by what your father said. That they might be a newblood. A target.”
Diana stared him down before she acknowledged him. “Yes,” she went on, “as if I should pre-emptively get rid of it before the silvers do.”
He gulped. “If you …”
“It’s not a reason against it for me,” she said. “Maybe if I was a prisoner, or hopeless, but I’m not. I hope, I fight, I won’t lose any more family. I’ll keep them safe.”
The colonel jumped to the conclusion that pregnancy prevented Diana from fighting, that a baby would take her away from the cause. But both were connected to her – she fought for their child.
Diana dropped her branch and rubbed her face. “When I think about why not, it’s never about what I want – it’s all about what the cause, the Guard, the colonel … expect from me.” She swallowed instead of adding Shade to that list. “I know what I want – to protect it, give life, to love it. Maybe that’s selfish though I imagine it wants to love, too.”
“It isn’t selfish. Unless you suppose we’d be that horrible parents. But we won’t.” So much depended on that tiny word, we. He had confessed his doubts, accepting they caused her pain, but none of that meant he would not try. He said this without shaking, yet noted that she did, literally, and he hugged her to stop.
“I do have a choice,” he added. “I could play the clueless fool. Never lift a finger to help you, be off on my missions.” She stared at him, doubting. “Or I could leave you. Vanish, or … never talk to you … act like I had nothing to do –”
She moved back, bewildered. “Are you trying to hurt me?” she called out his failure of jesting. “You can’t even say it,” she observed. “How could you mean it?”
“I –”
“You don’t even know yourself,” Dee said, her face softening – in disappointment.
He held on to her. “You’re so sure,” he urged. “I’m not,” he rasped out, “but it’s so new to me, I never … I need to grasp this, Diana. It feels like …”
“Like nothing? A blank?” she concluded quietly and her throat bobbed like the idea was unbearable to her. She pulled loose. “I won’t demand you to do it with me. Not anymore.”
“You’d rather I leave you?” His voice rose.
She grinded her teeth. “You are leaving me. On Mare’s mission.” She turned away from him and although they still sat side by side, he felt suddenly adrift. “We can treat this as a break to think,” she said. “Operative Barrow.”
“Why is it only all or nothing to you, Diana?” He had to fight her switch, making this about the cause and missions again. She regretted not giving him a say but then pushed him away like this?
She must’ve noticed his rage and she sighed with ache. “Because no one can have me without it again, Shade,” she said quietly. “Not the Guard, not the cause, not you. Do you understand?”
He didn’t. “What do you expect of me?”
She didn’t reply, only looked at him like he should know and failed a test by not providing the answer.
She rose. Still she hesitated, her arm within his reach.
Just say it, he wished. But that was her point, wasn’t it? She no longer wanted him to say what she liked to hear, but see proof of his feelings. Maybe she didn’t mind his doubts that much but that he’d presented himself as an excited father to be. That he wasn’t. But she grieved for that person that didn’t exist. Not yet, at least.
“How could I let you fuss over me when our baby gets none of your attention?!” They hadn’t finished that accusation but possibly, it was the most dire. He caught her hand and that was only a replacement of the connection she wanted. That he wanted.
She closed her eyes and exhaled. “Yesterday, I claimed I’d stay with the Guard if you did. I didn’t mean that, obviously.” Because she planned to stay either way, he understood. She met his eyes. “I won’t hold you to that. If you preferred to leave … I won’t ask anything of you.”
He couldn’t accept the direction this was taking. He’d only offered to run away because that might be better for their child, not to give them up. He held her back by the hand. “Do you want me not to go?” he asked and realized he’d fallen into the trap again.
She squeezed his hand before she let go. She had noticed, too. “I’ll help finish the preparations. We have to do what’s needed.”
Shade was left to prepare for mission by himself. Since he’d arrived unconscious, in the infirmary, he had to search and forage for gear, drawing on what he noted during the tasks he'd accompanied Diana on. He welcomed the distraction, and was annoyed by it. I do what Dee asked me to, he told himself, keep myself occupied instead of close by.
He would not wail about it, no. If she wanted time alone, he’d stay away at least a few hours. He saw where wailing got him. He wouldn’t be quick to confide in Kilorn again.
“I won’t ask anything of you.”
Too bad he was following one of her requests anyway. He gathered equipment he wasn’t satisfied with, gripped too much too tightly so his shoulder throbbed and dropped into a free bed to rest once he was done.
He woke too late to think much. He met his family before take-off. Bree and Tramy urged themselves on while Mom and Dad hugged them goodbye alternatingly, with Mare up ahead to take the lead.
She couldn’t wait to go at all, not even after their latest victory. Shade escaped the rest of his family and rushed to her. When he tapped her shoulder, she fell into his arms, to his surprise. It was more touch than in months, with no buzz to notice, and strange since she hadn’t sought him out the last two days.
As if she had waited for him, someone, to come near to her to offer an embrace.
“I’m so glad you live,” Mare rasped. He gulped. Now she finally showed her worry, and relief, for him after his injury. He’d hardly had opportunity to be concerned about his wound or how Mare felt about it.
“I barely know what happened,” he told her with jest.
She drummed on his chest. “You should know,” she ordered, stepping back. “You have an idea how often we have to carry you away injured after you saved us? From now on, I’ll keep count.” He could’ve sworn lightning flashed in her eyes.
“I’ll give you noth – little to count,” he promised and she glowered at him once more. He met the glare with a wince. “I get it, you’re in charge right here, right now. I heard a lot, and Farley was turning all jealous and I had to calm her …”
Mare blinked at that, disbelieving. “But she isn’t coming.”
“No …” How was he going to start explaining – hiding – why that was?
Mare crossed her arms. “If she was jealous, she’d be here to compete for authority.”
Shade sighed with ache. It was a struggle to decide how honest to be, what to veil, what he longed to reveal. “Do you really think she likes to compete with her allies?” he said quietly. “She is …” Our family, he thought, but that was too close to the truth. She told him she didn’t want to tell his family yet, and that became only more relevant after their fight.
He coughed. “She could be your friend,” he said instead.
Mare pondered on that. “You can compete with a friend …” she began before losing track, reading his feelings off his face, realizing with astonishment. She grasped his arm. “She means that much to you.” Somehow, she remained stunned by this, that he was really deeply in love, in heartache, when he as good as joked about them a few days ago.
“Yes,” he whispered, and hugged her again to cover how unsettled and distracted he was. She should not think he came on this mission with a divided mind. “We’ll fight well by ourselves,” he added louder as he let go of her, but Mare maintained her grib on his shirt.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, and he had no idea what she meant. She shook her head. “This is urgent, Shade,” she said. “We have to do this. Cameron expects it of us, and I understand.” Mare stood with conviction and he realized how connected she felt to Cameron. Then she smirked. “And I itch to stab at Maven’s power yet again.”
He squeezed her arm in return. “I know,” he agreed. “But you get how bothered Mom and Dad are?”
She did get it, Shade saw on her gloomy face. But she was determined to go on anyway. Mare would not let family make her stray from her goals.
If only it were so easy for him.
No, he thought standing where Mare walked ahead, he did not want easy, he wanted Diana, and be her family. And if that become complicated, he was aware that everything was so and Diana was worth it.
Finally, his brothers were coming along, too, suddenly ready. He came with them, as if carried by their motion, yet talking with Mare only revived his memories. Of his injury. Of Diana waking by his bedside. Of her tender, caring grasp of him, before –
His shoulder hurt again, from tension, or was it his heart? He grinded his teeth. Was it a phantom pain in his shoulder or missing Diana, agonizing on their fight?
Tramy clapped on his back. “So why doesn’t Farley –”
“Classified information,” Shade snapped at his brother. Wasn’t that accurate? How long would he have to uphold that threadbare explanation, how long until he and Diana resolved to tell people, so he could worry about jokes at his expense instead?
He could not leave her like that, in these uncertain waters. Shade sped up, ahead of the group gathering by their plane, wishing, hoping to see her once more because he could not imagine she wouldn’t check the take-off herself.
He guessed correctly, because there she was, organizing and urging, greeting and commanding. He didn’t wait for her to finish, uncaring how she frowned as he grabbed her arm, and spirited them aside.
“Unprofessional,” she scolded under her breath, but clearly relieved he hadn’t jumped them away. As if he was that reckless to anger her with a surprise teleport likely to make her sick. Instead he framed her face and neck with his hands.
“I do love you no matter what,” he declared. “I love how capable you are, and I’m certain out child will love you for it, too, and I'm eager to see that. You’ll be a wonderful mother because you already are – and I want to meet this wonderful mother. With or without a child, inside or outside the Guard, I’ll love facet and side of you. Infinitely,” he emphasized. “Because you are infinite.”
Maybe it was a bit too pompous because she said nothing. Stunned to a scarlet flush and undeniably moved. Her lips and lids quivered, fingers wrinkling his shirt. Her mouth moved, as if ready to speak and he hungered to hear it, her answer to his impassionate proclamation. “You ... will you …?” She would not turn him down, would she?
The words fought on her lips and he wouldn’t know peace until she dared to tell him for real. Her only mercy was to pull him near, her brow resting on his.
“Come back,” she whispered and although it was the smallest request to make, it was the spark that would keep him burning.
A/N: I gave Farley this determination about her pregnancy because I’m so supportive of abortion – I cannot imagine having children without such conviction O__O
I contributed my essential thoughts about my one true pairing Shade x Farley to @nortaeventcouncil 's survey and since I finally wrote it down, I want to share it here with you all:
Fade has been my OTP for ten years – okay, ten years probably apply to all RQ shippers – that has made me joyfully, enthusiastically, devotedly and unceasingly write hundreds of pages of fan fiction as they’re this inspiring mix of insinuated longing in the shadows of the main plot that urges me to fill in the blanks with vibrant love.
Fade are tropes but specific ones, and also full of facets. It is now, and maybe always was, rare to find ships of two people with a similar background. Shade and Farley find fulfilment in sharing a cause, in someone who knows what the other endured, and keep watching out for each other. But they’re also seemingly opposites. A grumpy woman and a sunshine man (rare enough as well) who are also more than that, who don’t simply clash for their differences but grow with each other, accepting and cherishing the hidden parts of themselves because the other finally sees them. They bring out more of each other.
Farley starts out as a woman fully committed to the rebel cause and despite her concern for her team as their leader, she appears distant, cold and thorny. Yet between the lines of Steel Scars, she loathes how her father has taught her to bury her heart to create her sole focus on the Scarlet Guard. She knows it means solitude and it’s only Shade who dares her to break her loneliness, and only Shade, the newcomer, cares enough for her to ask how she feels beneath her icy glaze of efficiency and ambition that fights the silver supremacy. Farley can be more than that – she wants to be more than that because if she doesn’t open up, all her heart feels is the pain of losing her home town and family and even that loss she must use to further the cause. Her heart is so deeply embedded in her mission its feelings have to serve it as well.
Shade must’ve been impressed by her, inspired to follow the model of a strong and self-confident red woman as a leader who flaunts all the rules and still he starts to rile her, challenge her. He isn’t like the rest of her soldiers who simply trust her to obey her orders and leave it at that to support her. He also doesn’t offer concern directly, asks about her worries. He approaches carefully, courting her as if he was chasing the huntress herself until she is willing to be caught – not in a trap but like saved from a fall. With him, she can stop falling into a deeper hole of loneliness but fall for his affection, granting herself not just a respite. Giving in to their desire is defiance, against her father who expects single-focused commitment, against the silvers who can’t take away their pleasure as well as their freedom, even as Shade and Farley fight against them.
And Shade, too, is a man of many facets. Or shades. Of sunshine, the fun caring brother and friend with the ability to save them in time, to his own risk. He has eyes like honey, yet he is all nurturing words and art or can he build dangerous, sticky traps? Farley showed him to strive for more and fight and he will make use of the power he has. His ability can save but also be employed for sabotage and murder, to kill before anyone can notice or strike back, to protect his loved ones mercilessly. He can be warm light and also a killer in the shadows and Farley treasures both sides, as he not just treasures all of her but yearns to uncover the ways to her soul buried deep within a casket.
They keep their love secret at first which I find hot, personally, because it speaks of disobedience, of taking what you crave without asking for permission. Mare says Farley isn’t one for hugs yet Farley casually touches people all the time. Rather, she longs for touch, to give and receive reassurance, but has become too used to cover that need and limit the physical affection, the intimacy in the dark, to Shade. The secret relationship burns on its own flame but in obscurity, as if from hesitation, a fear of open commitment.
That is all for naught of course when Farley gets pregnant and hiding turns futile so she just stops trying to, even if, in canon, she’ll be a walking tragedy whose child’s father has died. Still she ceases to lock away her feelings and dares to embrace the vulnerability that comes with having a child. She won’t let her child doubt her only surviving parent loves her – in contrast to how the colonel treated Farley – and protects her at all costs.
With Clara, Farley will have a family again, one she starts herself, she’ll give life instead of kill and never be alone again.
For Clara, Farley will reveal the love she holds inside because Shade gave her the courage to, so she can be gentle not just to Clara but to all those with her, to challenge her thorny side and turn it against their enemy instead of herself.
Farley is a woman who continues to grow into all she can be, gentle, cold, calculating, outspoken, brave, ruthless, passionate, secretive, caring, competent, questioning, innovative. But there remains the thought that never leaves me – that they both could still be more – if they got to be together, that Shade could be more, too. He’s remembered as perfect, warm and loving although he didn’t even get the chance to doubt and move beyond that, to find his own unique way to love his daughter (or more children in the future). Clara will always carry Shade’s memory although she never knew him or could ever be him. A baby to take care of is the opposite of a boyfriend who stands by your side raising her. When Farley grows kinder, who is kind to her, seeing into her heart and looking out for and after her? Has Farley re-found joy in her child after the numbness of grief only to be lonely again?
Maybe I relish the tragedy of Farley and Shade but just the same, I’ll never let go of the idea of what they could have been, of how Shade would’ve supported Farley as ambitious general and besotted, playful mother, amazed by even more facets of her. They have come so far, with so much dangerous hope, and they could’ve kept growing together.
I could probably say more but I suppose this is the essence and more details are described in the aforementioned hundreds of pages of fanfiction. Just one last note: I’ve avoided most of my personal headcanons here but canon Steel Scars Farley reads as demisexual/romantic as she doesn’t realize or interact with Shade’s flirting until she has become closer to him and for myself, I imagine both Shade and Farley as bi, too, and that would be another angle to my favourite ship – they could be attracted to anyone of any gender but they chose each other.
Red Queen Fan Fiction - To Find the Way Through Part I
February 2nd – Happy Birthday, Shade Barrow!
A/N 1: It’s been ten years since Glass Sword took him from Farley, his family, me and the rest of the fandom, but we’re still not over it. So let’s imagine how he survived the attack on Corros Prison initially and how he dealt with the following events. A reason for joy, or do the shadows of canon tragedies loom too large? Expect blood, anger, angst, regret and miscommunication.
Again in dual timeline and splitted in more chapters on Wattpad and AO3 - read where and how fast you prefer.
8500 words.
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
Part 1
Part 2
Now
It was like the jump out of the plane let him finally breathe again.
No flying sickness, no smoke, no attack –
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Three times Shade gave himself before he turned around, back to the Blackrun – the remains of it – to save who and what he could. Was anyone left in the wreck, anyone injured, or in need of other assistance? His glance flew over the site, counting the team and, with a throbbing heart, he found everyone in sight.
Everyone but Mare.
He clenched his fists and started to make calls, ordering them around, himself looking for supplies to salvage, enemies lurking, possible escape routes.
His shouts were quickly echoed by the rest, soon overriding each other. All called for their own ways to find the solution, the next step, their fears spoken aloud.
Shade spun around the first time he heard his name but kept going his own way, even as he heard it again and again.
Barrow!
Shade!!
Shade?
Shade …
He ground his teeth, retrieving the arms box from the Blackrun, his just healed shoulder straining with the effort. He teleported out before the plane could explode on him. Already someone stepped into him, a demand on his lips. “Can you –”
Will you …
Do you know?
What in hell were they all asking him?! What did he know when he let his sister get taken, let her sacrifice herself for them? He could’ve done something, should’ve done something –
He was again exiting the Blackrun when an arm grasped him. He resisted the pull. How did they even catch – they must’ve anticipated him returning from the plane. He managed to loosen the hold but was about to snap when he saw his brother.
Bree’s brown face paled by worry shut him up. He stilled.
“Shade, should we …?”
Shade fell forward to embrace him although even comfort was an act of maintaining composure. He bit his lip and delighted in the hurt.
What was it, really? That he appeared more collected than Cal or even the Guard officer with them? That they knew him closest to Farley who provided them with the best resource connections? Or was it the evident lure of his ability that offered hope of action after this devastating defeat?
Bree’s face was hardly hopeful but expectant nonetheless. Ending the embrace, Shade grew softer as he looked around again. Some sat down, tending to themselves, supporting one another, salvaged like him. Enough just stared at him.
He straightened. “We should contact the Guard,” he announced loudly.
“Does the radio still work?” someone asked.
“I have a transmitter,” Shade stated. He would contact Diana, as he’d almost said, since he still had the transmitter she’d given him that was connected to her own device. He fingers trembled against it. Lately, he’d mostly used it for … private messages.
He swallowed. Well, he had no idea when he’d sent “private messages” again but it still served for an emergency note.
Loudly, he cleared his throat. “Hey!” he called before they started to argue and fret. Being the leader for the time being, he issued quick orders to organize, foraging, sheltering and scouting. A fierce glare held them back although he gifted Bree, and Tramy behind him, an encouraging expression to cover the helplessness.
It was enough to let him go for a moment alone, to breathe again. He dropped to the ground and sat down on his haunches, producing the transmitter. He stared at it. Rubbed his dusty face.
Would Diana even reply?
“Do you really love and know me?”
No. Of course she would. She knew they were on mission, must be ready for a case of emergency.
Grimacing at figuring out the coding, he texted the basics.
Intercepted. Attacked. Mare taken, rest stranded.
Stranded where? Crap. Would Cal know?
Shade’s pulse deafened his hearing when the reply came in.
Will inform Command. Emergency protocol likely. Don’t return here. Position/injuries?
His pulse calmed slightly while decoding the message. Cool and effective. She needed more numbers, intel. He sent what he knew, faintly hoping she’d start voice contact.
Her voice, that had spoken to him just hours before with hurt, disappointment, distance.
“You don’t have to pretend and perform for my sake.”
More replies were slow to arrive though. She’d be sharing the news and waiting for reactions as well. Waiting while who knew what torture Mare was put through. Even Shade had hardly endured that noise device that neutralized her lightning.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck
He startled when he was approached in person. Shade turned his head and stared at Kilorn who looked once more like the soft, silly fish boy from the Stilts.
“Have you reached her?” he asked. Somehow, that Kilorn guessed he was texting Diana bristled Shade. He glared, merely inclining his head.
Kilorn lowered to him and grasped his shoulder. “We’ll get her back,” he said. “Mare is strong, and so are we. And all the tricks Farley –”
Shade erupted. “What do you bloody know?” About Farley and me, he added in his mind. “What military competence do you have? You certainly gave me a load of crap of advice about Farley!” As if relationship advice had anything to do with rebellion strategies. Shade jerked away from Kilorn’s touch and winced at the residual pain in his shoulder.
Consequently, Kilorn flinched in shame and hurt. Shade almost smirked. His anger found a target. Kilorn didn’t take any blame for Maven’s attack and Mare’s capture. Nothing compared to Shade who’d been too flying sick, recovering and distracted by heartache to sense the danger until it was much, much too late. He’d been glad to just survive the crash instead of trying to escape while he could and find a way to strike back. His attempts to strain against the silencers proved futile so quickly he gave it up, watching Maven’s smirk with the scream of the noise machine around him to torment himself while he reached for the knife he failed to grasp and use.
Yet Shade could blame Kilorn for what had happened before, for the fight with Diana that put him down and distracted him so, to run away from his mistakes at handling the news.
His breathing remained raspy with rage. “With luck she’s professional enough to still talk to me,” he said, “so thanks for nothing. I trusted you and you told me fucking shit and now Mare’s gone, good as dead, and Diana –”
“Shade.”
He was ready to shout him over again, but Kilorn, despaired as he looked by Shade’s derision, hadn’t spoken. For a too-long moment, Shade endured what he’d caused, meeting Kilorn’s eyes.
And the reflection of his own shame.
Finally, Shade cleared his throat and faced the new arrival.
Cal. Singed, dishevelled and beaten down, but no longer lost. Determined. “We need to act,” Cal said. He didn’t have the mind to care about Shade’s outburst against Kilorn.
Shade groaned. “I don’t suppose you’ve repaired the plane? We have to wait for further intel from the Guard.” Anxiety about Diana’s answers returned. What took so long? Would they really do nothing? What if nothing killed Mare? Diana wasn’t aware what this was like. Mare could already be about to be executed.
“I know where Mare is,” Cal announced, fiercely.
Words fled Shade. Did he really? But they could not. Or could they not waste this chance? “I can’t transport so many,” Shade said. “Not far.”
Cal nodded. “Three people, not that far.”
Shade could hardly bear the hope flaring in Cal’s eyes, or the one lit in him, or in Kilorn who he glimpsed from the corners of his eyes. “I –” The transmitter beeped.
He glanced at it, overflew the message with the decoding key fresh in his mind. It was the expected instructions. They should not act rashly, relocate from the crash site but not return to Tuck, use skills to find shelter and travel with stealth to possible safe houses until a Guard base to join was determined.
Mare’s whereabouts would be ascertained by Guard sources. Not them. They had nothing to do with Mare; Mare who wanted them to escape.
Shade’s helplessness threatened to drown him until he got struck on the last line of the message, one not cool and effective. Personal, and oddly poetic for Diana. Because it was a reply to him, to what he’d told her last.
You can cross infinities.
He exhaled. He wasn’t sure what Diana would tell him to do, since she transgressed her orders often enough. Maybe he was intentionally misreading the line.
Shade returned his gaze to Cal. “Fine,” he agreed. He would do something, crossing the infinite ramparts and traps behind which Mare was about to die.
Then
His lids were heavier than the sky. He was drawn beneath the surface of consciousness, below the presence of the ache. It loomed. He noted, even in his sleep, as the command “to heal” warred against the cusp of waking. It was a strange command, because he could’ve sworn he hadn’t heard it said – only felt, as that power flooded him, asking his flesh to regrow and close and new blood filled his veins. His left side was taken by a painful throbbing, even stronger than the initial stab that had been dulled by shock.
The awareness increased the throb. It pulled him up. He should stay asleep, resting, but it became a fight. With effort, he could let go, fall back, but on his right side, feeling returned as well. A weight and a grasp. A weak tether, yet once noticed, he held on, drew himself up bit by bit, until he struggled to open his eyes.
Light blinded him immediately. Shade blinked against it with a whiff of regret. It had been enough to see, though. The weight on his good side. Diana had sunk asleep beside him, their hands interlaced and her head on his arm.
He sucked in a breath. Releasing it only when she stayed as she was. Staying at rest offered him the chance to watch her, so unlike herself. Even her sleep was timed to be effective, winning the most comfort in beds when safe, still alert if not or napping during travels with nothing else to do. Always in control. Now, she must’ve checked on him and fell asleep waiting without a care? Not running immediately to the next task but letting exhaustion overwhelm her? He itched to brush her hair, if he dared to move.
How come she stayed? Astonished, he recognized where he was: the infirmary of Tuck island, where he’d ended up months before, too. New worries came to mind, given how they’d left Tuck the last time. Were they welcome here, what about the newcomers they brought, including the silver prisoners? Were all of them even here, what about their main team and those at the Notch?
He had to know more. With Diana on his right, only his left side was free to move. If he could move. Bare-chested, he saw thick bandages over bruises on his chest and shoulder. No blood, and only that dull residue of pain. His brown skin looked too rosy for grave blood loss. A silver healer must’ve had their hands on him. He remembered nothing of that. He’d jumped to catch Mare when he was hit in the shoulder. He then fell on Mare as his blood dripped on her like a waterfall. He winced. It was more than a stab, his shoulder had been mauled, almost torn off, and nausea rose at the memory of his arm hanging off him. In reaction, he’d jumped with Mare right away to the Blackrun where hands grasped him. What else? Voices, noises what he could not tell. He’d been senseless to anything but pain. Then he was here.
He glanced down at his arm. Uncovered, it had to be uninjured. He needed to test his fingers and they twitched obediently although his whole left side tingled with the motion. He groaned, loud, and that stirred Diana whose head shot up.
Her lips moved, trembled, but all she did was stare at him, bewildered, wide-eyed. Her hand clasped him tighter. The least he could do was meet her eyes. “Hey,” he said.
She dropped to his right shoulder. “You almost died,” she murmured.
“Ah.” What could he reply to that? He could guess, given the place and severeness of the wound. Almost losing his arm was bad enough but it was so damn close to his heart. His left fist tightened, causing another tingle, though less startling. “You still haven’t gotten me killed,” he said.
She bristled. “As if I am trying to!”
No. If anything, the fault – risky behaviour – was on him. With force, he pulled his left hand over, to his belly, until his fingertips touched Dee’s arm. “You saved me.”
She shuddered, at his words or at the touch. She buried her face against his neck and he almost expected her to sob. She inhaled, and lifted her head. “Sara did. You can see how lucky we were. She was there and ready to heal you. Could attend to no one else in result. I helped as long as we were on the plane.” She bit her lip. Her fingers ever so slightly brushed over his cheek, as if amazed he was there at all. “A nurse I know took you in here, assisting Sara.” She blinked. “I wanted to assess how things were here then but Mare was the one who strode in like a queen – with the queen, actually. Her body.”
He didn’t understand at first. Then he remembered Elara had been at Corros Prison although they’d intended to get away before getting her. “She …”
“When you were stabbed,” Dee explained, “Mare turned back and rained death on Elara.”
But he’d wanted to bring Mare to safety, why would she … no matter. She’d thought him almost dead. He didn’t know what he’d do if Mare or Diana died. He still remembered the desperation that drove him to save his brother at the Choke, so intense he’d jumped for the first time.
“Mare just dropped this victory on the colonel and made demands, for new operations, too. I followed to check but … I simply didn’t have to. The bloody colonel deferred to her and then, well, I’m not sure. A foreign envoy wanted to talk to Mare. Who knows what’ll come of it.”
She sounded dubious yet Shade saw her eagerness to learn more, form her own opinion in case they tricked Mare. He had no such qualms. He would not bother with foreigners for now, and right now, he also trusted Mare with anything. His sister whom he knew as a girl who thought herself as good for nothing but stealing and scrapping by. She was no less smart than anyone but never picked up books like he did, like it had no point. Now it was her, outshining experienced Captain Farley, who took charge and run things.
It was scary. Mare was scary. But having escaped death, scariness had little impact. He was proud, and could relish in Diana by his side.
Her fingers combed through his left hand. “Are you alright?” she asked. Strange to see her like this. Diana Farley was afraid of nothing. Except for him.
Slowly, testing himself again, he shrugged. He grimaced, though with no pain, only noting the soreness. “I live.” Diana frowned, not content yet did anyone ever give a thoroughly detailed report of feelings after injury?
A door opened, and a nurse entered. “Farley,” she called, although her tone’s soft concern was belied by her severe expression. She was tall with brown skin and dark hair in a mid-high bun. Her groomed eyebrows made a good job of emphasizing her features.
Diana straightened, albeit reluctantly, to shift away from him. Even her voice changed to professional and cool. “You get along with Sara?” she asked. “Caroline?” She had to be adding the name for his sake.
Caroline glanced at him, nodding at his awake state although still somewhat sour. “Bold and daring to the last,” Caroline said, unimpressed by Diana’s switch to imperative. “First this prince, now all those silvers. You keep bringing us trouble.”
“Are they making trouble?” Diana countered, eyebrows raised. “And the colonel made things difficult, by locking Calore and Barrow up on no grounds.”
Caroline sighed but a corner of her mouth twitched. “Oddly, not so far. Not sure if it’s a good idea, but Sara started to patch them up, dragging me along for your information. It keeps them occupied for now. And yes, I do get along with Sara.” She crossed her arms. “Remarkable woman. You saw it yourself. Shows up and leaves all our medical efforts pointless with a touch, yet even without words, she manages to make me feel useful. Don’t look so smug,” she chided Diana, “one nice silver with harmless healing powers hardly applies goodness to the rest of them.”
“Healing abilities can be used for harm, too,” Diana objected, to which Caroline raised a pretty eyebrow as if that only proved her point.
Then the nurse stepped forward, bending toward Shade with another stare. “You are alright?” she inquired.
“I don’t feel like dying,” he replied.
Caroline remained staring, likely curious about someone saved from death by silver ability. Although she looked really long, and didn’t ask more, until she turned back to Diana, producing envelopes. “Sara wrote down information for you,” she told them. “Since you – Shade – are conscious, I can give it you directly.” She laid the paper in his lap and gave another to Diana who hesitated at first, then reached out only quicker.
“Thank you,” Diana mumbled, oddly quieted. “And Sara too.”
Caroline squeezed her shoulder. “You’re still welcome here,” Caroline said. “The colonel didn’t go unscathed through your whole disappearance.” She smirked. “Captain.”
“So I’ve heard,” Diana replied, grinning back. It was genuine and Shade was glad and surprised her rank was restored.
Caroline lingered. “Sara will be ready if you have questions,” she said finally.
Diana inclined her head yet as the nurse left, the amusement about the reinstation fell off her. Watching her, Shade opened his envelope and read the note when she said nothing. The letter contained ticked off checks and procedures he wasn’t too keen to know, and it ended with “movement is encouraged for adjustment of regrown tissue.”
Well then, there was the okay to get up, he supposed. Carefully, he shifted into upright position. Indeed, it was no more challenging than any rising when tired. The shock and memory, stressed by remaining soreness and bruises, was stronger than actual pain. Even rolling his shoulder worked acceptably. He turned to Diana and was aghast to find her paled but wet-eyed.
“Dee?”
She shoved her paper to him and despite her reluctance, he read it immediately.
11 weeks, due date May 13, 321
Approach me in case of further needs or questions.
I can end it right here if you require.
He could feel himself blanching, too. Although she’d stalled back at the Notch, Dee had asked for an examination for pregnancy the first chance she got.
Fuck. He only thought the curse and was relieved for it. He sought her hand, still close, and clasped it. “Now we have confirmation,” he said quietly. Nodding, she remained frozen. He related to that. What could he even say. He had no clue, no plan, no … He was simply blank. She had given him the paper so smoothly, like she had no qualms, wanted him to know. He swallowed. But he knew nothing.
“I didn’t think it was that far along,” she said eventually. “But it makes sense. Must’ve happened that time … the first time.” She flushed, which was an improvement to her pallor.
“Well, sure.” He squeezed her hand. His face felt hot. “We didn’t use anything then.” He glimpsed at the due date – her own birthday, on top of everything. Mere days ago, he’d promised her passionate sex as a present. How plans shatter and change.
Suddenly, she spun, frowning at him. “Why would Sara just offer something like that?” She pointed at the paper.
“What?” Then he realized – the offer to end it. He glanced down, clearing his throat. “I can only guess,” he said in a low voice. “In Corvium, I’ve befriended a silver.” No matter how unfulfilled and impossible Shade’s crush had been, it had been friendship between him and Roman Eagrie. “He told me things about … well.” He hesitated and gathered his thoughts.
“Silvers – nobles – don’t marry for love,” he explained. “They have all kinds of affairs. Some spouses actually hate one another yet are supposed to have children with each other. I imagine, for some silver women, it’s most important to control when to have children or not. Sara must be used to help them.” It probably was a tad indelicate to be so direct but what should Sara do? Having to be brief in writing, she couldn’t slowly ease the topic into a conversation but put all options on the table.
Diana had listened attentively. As she remained silent, he asked, “does that appall you?”
She met his eyes without restraint. “No,” she said coolly. “I understand perfectly. Too perfect, in fact.” Shade breathed out. “I’m a captain of the Scarlet Guard,” she said, “and people come to me for help with unwanted pregnancies.” She let go of him and rose. “Do you have an idea how difficult it is to find them help?” She tilted her head. “Medics, medicine, equipment, often far away from wherever we are and expensive on top. And Sara writes it down like it’s nothing when I didn’t even ask. Just another form of injustice.”
She was angry, and it wasn’t merely about the unfair access to reproductive healthcare. When she stepped forward, he reached for her, holding her back by her jacket because he was afraid she’d simply go.
“Diana,” he insisted softly. She spun and inched back to him, settling on the edge of the bed. She laid her palms on his chest, slightly hesitating on his left side. “It’s okay,” he said. “I should move it again.” She nodded and he couldn’t help breathing in sharply. Would they not talk about it? She merely stared, leaning closer. Her hands travelled over his shoulders to his face, framing him.
“Are you with me?” she murmured so quietly it was like she only mouthed it. Maybe she did. Didn’t dare to demand this. The first time she’d asked this question was engraved in his mind; he recognized the shape of the words. He was not aware what his mouth did, though. Although she’d told him days ago of her suspicion, still he had no answer.
Instead he hugged her, pulled her close so tightly it strained his healed shoulder. Good for it to challenge it for this. “Are you okay, Diana?” he mumbled.
“Hmm,” was her sole reply, not moving from his embrace and for once, he was content with silence as long as she stayed like this. He brushed through her hair, again pleased by the tickling it sent through his left side.
“You won’t take up Sara’s offer,” he said.
Then tensed her to pull back. Although her face was aghast, determination shone in her eyes. She stumbled over unformed words until she simply nodded. “I …” she looked away.
He kept brushing her hair. “I could tell, Diana,” he said in a toneless voice. In fact, he was disappointed by her wordlessness, that he had to drag this out of her. But did he not also understand how hard this was for her? It was already hard for him.
He cleared his throat. “I’d like to get up.”
Dee slid aside, ready to help him up as if relieved to have something to do. She grasped his arm as he stood, first uncertain, but sure after a few moments. “Maybe I leave the bandage for a day,” he muttered, “but a shirt and shoes would be great.” She was fast to procure them and he squeezed her hand as she handed them over.
“Shade,” she began, searching eye contact once he was dressed. “I didn’t plan for this.” He returned her gaze and she grew firmer. “But I will make a plan now.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “You always do.”
Her face softened so he couldn’t tell if she would cry or smile. When he left the edge of the bed, back on his feet to follow her, it became the latter. A light. He stepped toward her and held onto her arms – for her support or his own?
“I do,” she agreed, her forehead lowering against his. But her eyes lifted and he saw that light once more. “I’ll get started,” she said and leaned away. “Are you okay?” Her gestures asked if he could be left alone. He was about to nod but didn’t let go, kept her back. “I’ll come with you.”
“Can you walk?”
He raised an eyebrow. Was he not supposed to try?
When he walked out of the infirmary with her, he pretended he clasped her arm for affection. She was focused on him, attentive to his state.
Only slowly did their thoughts reverse. “I’ll have to inform Command first,” she said and looked pale, almost green like nauseous, and he held tighter. “And the colo –”
She lifted her hand to her mouth as if she would really throw up. Instead her knees buckled and Shade grabbed her, pulled her close to sink against the wall of the corridor.
He flinched as the effort made pain flare in his shoulder, as on Diana’s face. She sat down, head buried in her arms crossed over her knees. Shade rubbed her upper arm as she panted herself calmer.
“Don’t fret,” he said. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now.” He’d never seen her like this, shocked that the thought of telling her father left her panicking. He wished he knew how to embrace her to comfort her anxiety away. Or was this a moment she preferred not to be touched, now that she already shared her body with another?
He sighed. That was the problem – what did she want, when so many different things pulled at her. On them both.
How could she fear Command’s and the colonel’s disappointment so much? The colonel for sure, but Command as well could go fuck themselves in his opinion – they had no business whether or not Diana had a child. In fact … he gulped. He wasn’t sure he had business with it. If she didn’t know, maybe his thoughts could sway her, give her certainty. But she had certainty, clawed away by circumstances, so he’d support her in it. The baby made her so happy it scared her, drove her to tears, because she’d pushed back her wishes. Well. He would not let anyone take those from her.
His fingers grazed her cheek, like a trial. “The Guard wants to protect reds,” he said softly. “If they won’t consider to protect a baby too, does Command live up to its cause?”
She leaned into his touch, even as she chewed on that. They’d signed up to fight, after all. He’d rather run away than having Diana suffer under them. How much he doubted, he admired her determination. She didn’t want to leave the Scarlet Guard. She didn’t want to give up their baby. “You want this,” he said. “You want this for yourself. It’s okay to want things for yourself.”
He was hit with the realization that their whole relationship until now wasn’t fully their own. It was all stolen moments, secret kisses, pleasure as comfort and energizer between battles. When they met, Diana had to as good as beg her superiors to oath him, and then they’d spent weeks apart, with only an appropriated transmitter to communicate. Who knew where he would’ve been sent if he hadn’t run away with her and Mare? They had put the cause first and accepted it.
This would not do anymore.
“It’s our business, not theirs,” he said.
She lifted her head, a little eased. “It’s ours,” she repeated.
He nodded, squeezing her arm. “It’s its own,” he added. “It deserves better.”
“Of course,” she murmured, then lifted her face and wiped it. “It survived so much already. Withstood what we went through.” She looked at him, her lips still trembling, and in that moment, he knew she needed to be touched. Why did he doubt it? He’d risk her loud rejection should that ever not be the case. He hugged her as much as possible sitting side by side while inside, his thoughts whirled. He told her she could want things for herself and what did she pick? A baby, as if that didn’t demand from her as well. And yet, her raising her head, looking forward again, showed a new resolve that felt like a revolution.
“I just should text Command,” she said, but appeared anxious still.
“Or we could run away,” he said.
Her head spun to him, stunned, but she remained quiet as if considering. Her eyes lowered. “Would you do that …?” she wondered. Before he could reply, she grew firm. “Where could we run too? The Guard, fighting, seems harsh, but it’s a bubble. Outside, we live at the mercy of silvers, and do you know how well they’ll accept strange newcomers on their grounds? We’re wanted criminals. Best to hide with the Guard.” She really must’ve recovered, speaking like designing a plan again. But her palm was on her belly. “The bases and safehouses exist because we stole them, made them into our own. We only got so far by fighting.”
He swallowed. Talking of running away sounded like an escape, inventing an option just to have another. “You mean we can only put up with the demands and what they grant us to stay safe?”
She extended her hand. It shook. “I’ll stay if you do.”
He took it without hesitation. “I’ve sworn I’m with you, Diana.”
When she flushed at that, remembering him saying that before, he couldn’t help smiling. But her other hand was still on her belly. He lowered his voice. “You’re sure you’re ready for … it all? Pregnancy and birth, I mean.”
She paused, her throat bobbing. “I went through hell,” she said finally. “I’ve seen all that blood and death and cruelty and lived. Fought.” She sought his eyes. “I can brave this, too.” Yet her eyes revealed she didn’t know what expected them either – although that applied to everything they did.
“Imagine,” she continued, “a mission that isn’t about killing.”
But painful and bloody, too. He clasped her arm. “Unless it kills you.” Or the baby didn’t live.
She frowned. “Don’t be afraid of the worst. I don’t die so easily.”
He frowned back. “I worry about you,” he confessed.
Flushing, she looked weirdly touched. “It’s nice of you to worry about me.” She forced a smile on her face as she kept rubbing her belly.
As if no one else ever worried about her well-being. She looked already so protective of their baby, so he’d be protective of them both. “I will,” he stated, and put his hand on her knee.
Her head fell down again, but this time, it was like giving herself a rest. She kissed his hand. “… family,” she muttered.
The barely audible words raced over his back, just like they must have to in her mind as her break lasted.
Family, that was what this baby was to her. Of course. And where was he in this? He’d just promised her. He could not allow himself to stumble, to tremble. Only he did when she grasped him, looking up with purpose. “What about your family?” she asked. He blinked. “Don’t you want to see them?”
He opened his mouth without an answer. It seemed too big a decision, too fast a change in topic. Was it, though? Did she mean to tell them …?
She had read the thought on his face. She patted his arm. “They’ll want to see you,” she said. “They’ll have heard you were injured.”
He jumped up, swallowing the dizziness while Diana joined him. “It’s been a long time. We left so suddenly.” Her touch was a reassuring agreement. Going to his parents was a plan and now it was there, he strode ahead, lighter.
Diana seemed to have recovered fully from her break down, looking all serious and casual, as if she accompanied him out of mere polite concern, as if hiding their connection and distress again. Really? Although he did not intend to tell his family now, either.
He swung his hand so their knuckles met, and she glanced at him before facing ahead again. He repeated the motion, and then she knocked her hand against his and the next time, he interlaced their fingers. When he glimpsed at her, her face remained firm, not even a hint of amusement showing. And yet she squeezed back.
“Do you remember the way?” she asked.
“Ah –”
She cocked her head. “Or would you rather jump to them?”
He considered if it was possible, given his exhausting recovery, yet he did not feel that dreadful anymore. “You doubt I could?” Her lips parted and he continued, with jest. “Is it a challenge? I’ll manage.”
Her mouth twitched, pondering – and then she pulled away. “Not with me,” she called and forged ahead. He was speechless as she turned her head to him with a smirk. “Can you follow?” she dared him and took off around the corner.
She literally asked him to chase her. He couldn’t believe it – or rather, he was stunned by her elation. Glad for it. He had succeeded to cheer her up.
He noted he could trace her with his ability, jump to her if he wished, but he gave her a head start before he tried teleporting, racing after her by sensing her alone. Even in this reduced way, the ecstasy of using his ability surged. Encouraging himself, he watched his breathing stay even, noted when she slowed, and jumped to her with the next exhale.
She actually squealed when he caught her and he didn’t even touch her yet. Indeed, when he clasped her arms, she stilled to silence, and remained so as his hands travelled to her hips, fingertips gliding over her sides up her waist. He panted against her neck, and finally, her own breath grew louder. He needed to feel it, lay a palm between her ribs as her chest moved.
He did not. He was too shy to put a hand on her belly.
“You don’t know we’re there, do you?” she said.
He snorted. “I can guess.”
Diana stepped away as if nothing was off about his avoidant touch. “Ready?”
He went for the door and with its opening, their demeanour reversed. Diana sobering and Shade putting on a smile for his family. The pretense turned real when his mom hugged him, standing on her toes, and more so as his dad shook his hand tightly.
“At least you’re here,” Dad said. “Mare barely showed. Although,” he creased his brow, “now you’re here, then you’re gone, all out of nothing?”
Shade winced. “I fear that is my nature,” he replied.
Tramy cackled. He and Bree were content to pat his shoulders as each found their seats. With hesitation, Diana took the chair beside him. Gisa watched from a corner and Kilorn slouched by the door. Food was ready on the table and Shade claimed a plate of cake, hungry and panting after the chase. He hadn’t eaten since … before the mission that had wounded him.
“And what is Mare’s nature?” his dad asked.
Shade coughed on his bite. “Dad, I’ve wondered …”
“Are you going to leave again?” Mom interjected. “Mare already announced a new mission.” She wasn’t happy about it.
“Something about saving child soldiers,” Bree explained. “Going to the Choke. She asked if we would join.” He titled his head. “Are you ready for that?”
Did Bree ask about his injury – or whether he was scared of the frontline the three brothers escaped from? In fact, Shade had had no idea about the new operation and glanced at Diana who hadn’t informed him about the details. Though why would she? Apart from their own news occupying their minds, neither he nor she knew how fast and full his recovery really was.
He could connect the dots though. Cameron must’ve convinced Mare after all. He understood and clenched his fist. He’d helped Mare dragging Cameron with them despite Cameron’s complaints. It put him in a fickle. He doubted it would’ve won Cameron much to be left alone in the middle of nowhere but was that justified if she was openly against it?
“Be honest, Shade,” his dad urged. “About your injury.”
Shade watched his father. He knew about injuries but how did he feel about Shade getting silver healing out of his reach?
Embarrassed, he looked down. Dee said Mare had been panicked about him but she must’ve calmed with Sara saving him. That was why she walked around instructing the Scarlet Guard instead of checking on him. “It won’t be a problem,” he said. Supposedly. He wasn’t incapacitated. Was that the same as ready for war? He wasn’t convinced himself the injury did not last in some way, and he was hardly energized. He ate some more. The chase had been fun but while he had only got up from bed, he was tired again.
Or that was on the emotional challenge.
He rubbed his leg with one hand, the other seeking Diana’s under the table. Her face was perfectly neutral, only nodding along to the conversation and eating some snack, but now she squeezed back. I’ll go where you go, he thought but quickly banished it. Could that still apply? Would she join the mission? Her expression told him nothing. He turned to his parents. “Mare will need me,” he said.
“Sure,” his mom agreed, albeit sourly. She worried for them all, so was it better if some stayed back or they took care of each other?
“We’ll smooth out the plans first,” Diana offered, all professional. Then cleared her throat. “I hope your stay during our absence was endurable? The colonel … can be difficult.”
Shade was astonished. He knew Diana as loud, imperative and brusque, either emotionally detached or daringly open just to him. He had rarely seen the side of her that chatted with civilian allies, and even that was different from this careful, almost shy approach.
Incredibly, it worked on his family. They narrated their own adventures on Tuck, adjusting and making themselves useful. Mom, who had so many friends in the Stilts she had to miss, was surprisingly content here. Likely finding new friends. She shrugged. “I know to make do.”
Diana inclined her head. She was cool but sharing their amusement and feeling welcome among his family. When Tramy asked what they’d done the last two months, she replied, “classified information” with a smirk.
“You don’t have to hold back,” Diana said now. “Relying on the Guard does not mean you have to put up with everything.” Also new to him – Diana did not apply that when it came to herself. Although she seemed to let it count for civilians. “If you have complaints about the colonel,” she said, “I’ll keep on eye on him, as I’ll remain on Tuck for now.”
Would she? It answered his previous question about her joining or not but who know what Command would decide about her. How did they handle pregnant operatives, babies and parents in the Guard anyway? She could be reassigned anywhere, away from him. He didn’t know her as obedient but she might trade obedience for favours regarding him and their baby.
Nonetheless, she’d be a thorn in the colonel’s side, if the pregnancy wasn’t the biggest thorn of all.
“Do you?” His mom sounded eager. “I’d like to get to know you.”
Shade gasped and this was the moment Dee chose to rise with a twitch of her mouth. “Then I hope to have time for it,” she said, and found his eyes. They both refrained from touching despite their apparent wish to. “I have further business to settle. Save us rooms, and … well.”
“I’ll find you,” Shade replied, recognizing her meaning and wanting to reassure her if not clasping hands. He cursed inwardly as he understood what he’d done. He as good as told his family he’d spent the night Diana’s bed and not with them. His face grew dangerously hot and he wondered if they could read their secret on their faces. But Dee was smooth as ever as she left and he didn’t stay much longer.
“I wish you a good night,” Tramy said with a dirty grin as Shade told them he’d rest.
“I hope so,” Shade answered instead of fuck you and guessed that Tramy heard it anyway.
He went outside to cool himself, letting the November sea winds of Tuck lash at him.
“We should’ve waited for Mare,” Kilorn said.
Shade startled, having missed Kilorn following him.
“We could’ve asked her about the operation herself,” Kilorn added. “And how she is.” He was bloody right. Shade might’ve buried the memory of the injury but Mare had witnessed it all and hadn’t him since.
Shade cursed.
It was enough agreement for Kilorn. “We will see her,” he said and walked around to face Shade. “Can’t be more awkward than this, can it?”
Shade didn’t understand. Things with Mare weren’t … easy either.
Kilorn frowned. “Like you bring Farley over here like your betrothed and yet you explain nothing about your relationship.”
Now Shade’s blood seemed to leave his head. “Be…trothed?” Of all words. What did Kilorn guess? Or … did he think they should be betrothed?
“Sorry.” Kilorn scoffed. “Of course she can’t be serious with you, can she?” He grasped Shade’s sleeve. “Does it hurt you, how she keeps you at bay?”
He could’ve laughed if the shock of Kilorn’s accusation didn’t shut him up. Kilorn had really noticed nothing of their romantic play on the way here. How they almost made out outside the door. “Maybe it’s too serious for me,” he muttered.
Kilorn raised his eyebrows. His face was as mobile as ever. “Oh sure, it’s all meaningless between you two. Guess I was wrong.” Clearly, he thought he was not wrong.
Shade fell against a wall with a sigh and covered his face. “I just had this talk with her and it’s fucking serious.”
“Well, good for you. I won’t be her good little soldier if she broke your heart.”
“She’s pregnant.” Neither Shade nor Kilorn knew how Kilorn had pulled the confession out of him as they stared at each other.
“She told you that?” Kilorn inquired.
Shade blurted. “For the obvious reason?”
Kilorn blushed. Shade had no idea how his mind twisted in the next seconds. “But … how long … how?”
“Really?” Shade cackled.
Kilorn shook himself. “I didn’t know you went that far … far back.” He still looked disbelieving at which Shade glared back.
“Clearly you have no idea about us to judge.”
“I suppose …” Kilorn didn’t continue. Merely patted Shade’s chest. Several times, gathering himself. “And you? What will you do?”
The concerned question caught him off guard. Raw. Diana had not asked him that, had … preferred to deduce his behaviour. As if that was the same as asking about his feelings. And yet, he’d followed suit with her. He gulped. “She wants it, Kilorn. She’s … happy about it.”
He remembered her joy when they’d played chase. He could delude himself by pretending it was all about by her reinstation as captain, their victory, his survival. Yet it was caused by their baby, by having him at her back. Maybe, to enter this path, she needed to find happiness in it.
Kilorn studied him for a long time. “Are you not? You … you do love her, and I didn’t notice you hate children.”
Shade breathed out. “I don’t hate children.” As if it wasn’t about more than liking children or not. “If she had a child already when I met her –”
“What?”
“It wouldn’t have bothered me.”
“And it wouldn’t bother you if she was pregnant now with another person’s child?” Kilorn challenged.
“She isn’t,” Shade insisted for certainty.
“But you would prefer that,” Kilorn went on, “so you’d do her a favour by helping her instead of meeting your responsibility?”
It was a stab that hurt deeper than his real wound. “Fuck you,” Shade spat and jumped away.
He hardly knew where to, was not aware how far he was ready to go. It was like he followed the wind, letting it carry him farther, to the edge of the compound where he appeared on the cliffs above the sea. Away from anyone else.
He knew Kilorn too long, so Kilorn was the one sensing and revealing only through a few seconds of talking what Shade hid from himself, what he could not disturb Diana with. She had enough to deal with. She was pregnant, and who would it help to tell her, “I’d make a great stepfather”?
He groaned against the wind and the roar of the sea. First Kilorn had been protective of Shade, then he turned against him. And yet, there was freedom in Kilorn admitting what Shade wondered, ashamed, deep down. It was a dirty, impossible desire when he should dream about the beauty his child would bring. But that he could hardly, just barely, imagine if he glimpsed into the far and dim distance. Closer was the joy Diana felt, the little changes at the mere news. He yearned to know these other sides of her, support and protect them, so her uncertainties and competing duties could not drag her down. He’d defend them against naysayers.
Shivering, he crouched on the rocks but still enjoyed the wind tousling his wind by the time Kilorn found him. Shade glanced him before turning back to the sea. “Do you expect a prize for finding me?” Shade said. He was stunned and glad Kilorn did, though. Diana wouldn’t have come. Why would she? She’d just assume he stayed longer with his family. He’d promised to come to her and she trusted him.
Kilorn shrugged and dropped down next to him. He ground his teeth against the wind but was adjusting himself. Kilorn was used to cold by the water. “I doubt you have much left to give me,” he said. “Since, you know, you’ll have to spend all on –”
“I get it,” Shade snapped.
Kilorn sighed. “No, no, I had my moment, I’ll stop honing it in. But,” he continued without the playfulness, “you understand, don’t you?”
Shade moaned onto his knees. “I have … I needed a break, Kilorn. I had to comfort her, build her up from the moment we knew. I can’t …”
“What?”
Shade remained silent but he gave Kilorn a glare to reconsider. He would not appreciate another lecture.
Kilorn nodded slowly, softening his features with a new resolve. “So I can leave you in peace, yes?” A grin began to show. “Since you’re so aware of the consequences of your actions? It is your responsibility, or did you not sleep with her, unprotected?”
Shade was relieved to play along and flipped his hair dramatically. “We come together more times than one can count.” He would not be ashamed.
“Ouch!” Kilorn exclaimed and clapped a hand on his chest. “Does it bring you comfort to brag? Or is that the best, the … climax of being with Farley?” He laughed at his stupid pun, but Shade laughed along. Kilorn had perfect precision at mocking Shade, at pulling the truth out of him.
“It was never just that,” Shade said with gravity. “She means the world to me, although it’s still fresh. She’s fearless. I believe I can do anything when I am with her, and she believes that I can, too, even after –,” he faltered, remembering when he did stumble and she saved his ass, and how long it took before she’d shown feelings to him. He cleared his throat. “If I like to sleep with her –”
“Okay, I get it,” Kilorn said.
“– it’s because sometimes I’m surprised she really wants me, chose me of all people.”
Kilorn patted his back. “You’re not a sore on the eyes, either.” He turned serious. “Shade, I’m sorry. You aren’t ruled by the dark thoughts. Don’t let them win. If she makes you that confident, go in for it.”
Shade inclined his head. Wasn’t he trying that? But Kilorn went on. “You shouldn’t be afraid to tell her.”
“What?” Shade was curious.
Kilorn smiled. “Not … what I said. That you’re … overwhelmed, or something.”
“I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use. Am I not meant to hold her up?”
“Shade,” Kilorn insisted, almost rolling his eyes. “Do you not trust her?”
Shade trusted her with his life, obviously. But this was his heart, and more than that. He could barely grasp it. This was about their child. His child. He didn’t want to hurt them, but didn’t know how to live up to them. The idea of them, he was uncertain how to describe it.
“Just tell her, okay,” Kilorn said with such assurance Shade took a part of it to heart.
He rose, facing the wind. “I won’t run away from her,” he said, and jumped with a wave to Kilorn.
As usual, he could trace Diana to land where she was. Too exactly, in fact, arriving in the very room where she stilled as she sat at a desk. It was a small, private bedroom. Plates with food were next to her, half of it eaten.
She stood up and grasped his face. “You’re cold,” she noted.
“Not for long,” he answered.
She smiled at his innuendo. “Before I can warm you up, I need to give you an update,” she said and he did not refuse. He listened to her.
A/N 2: I know, I know, it might feel a little weird to read about the anxiety of learning about the pregnancy when I've already posted stories about Shade embracing loving Clara (in Flowers of Piedmont) - but neither fic is finished yet and it's his birthday and 10 FUCKING YEARS since he died on me and it feels fitting to revive him where he died, right here right now. I notice the erring and miscommunication is strong in this one (and worse next time u.u) but I call it room for growth. It's been just one day for them! Have a little patience, I have already much material for the next parts in drafts!
Red Queen Fan Fiction - The Flowers of Piedmont Part 2
A/N: It finally continues! The day of Clara's birth is split into three parts on Wattpad and AO3, should you prefer that. Sorry not sorry it's so long, I had so many cute ideas.
Part 1
Interlude
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
18.665 words
Part 2
May 15th – dawn
Diana went into labour two days after her birthday. Shade woke from the thunder breaking through the sky. His head still buried into the pillow, he wanted to ignore it, go back to sleep. Then he heard Diana groan, grasping for him. He turned his face up to her with a smile, to find her half-upright, paled and anxious.
“It was wet,” she said quietly. “Then it hurt.”
Alertness overtook him. He raised himself, reaching out to support her back. Her waters had broken, right when the storm began.
She kept groaning, her fist clenched until she exhaled in relief, the cramp over. “This time it’s real”, she said. She still looked ghastly pale and green with worry.
He had to look the same, less grounded than his ability could ever cause. He rubbed her shoulders. He couldn’t give in to panic, had to be strong for her. “We’ll meet them today,” he said, trying an encouraging smile.
“If it’s over by today,” she muttered.
At least she didn’t doubt they’d met them at all. She didn’t need her paranoia on top of giving birth.
Diana adjusted her position and wriggled to the edge of the soaked bed. She glanced at it. “With time, we could’ve sold it. Now it’s ruined.”
Shade cackled. “Ostentatious silver bed, ruined by a red baby’s birth waters. Isn’t that fitting?”
She smiled weakly at his attempts to cheer her up. She waved him over to help her. It was something to do, and doing something took the edge off the enormity of the situation. He brought her stumbling to the bathroom to use the toilet, clean up and change into another long shirt and panties. “How long until it’s soiled again?” she mumbled.
“Do you want to go naked?” he asked as they returned to the bed. But before she could sit down, she bent over in pain. He tried to catch her, hold her up, futile. She sank to her knees. His eyes glazed over, thunder rumbling outside and within his head. How much time since the first contraction had it been? Crouching behind her and stroking her back, he glanced at the clock, although he had no idea when it had started.
Eventually, Diana lifted her head from the mattress she’d pressed her face into during the cramp. He found her eyes. “And,” he asked softly, “are you soiled again?”
She grunted in exasperation. “Will you shut the fuck up? You don’t have to go through this!”
He didn’t take her outburst to heart; he had been rude. Intentionally. He’d expected her to point out the unfairness sooner or later. He kept rubbing her back, glad colour had returned to her face.
She sighed, not quite an apology. “I don’t know if I can walk at all,” she said finally.
“What?”
She shook her hand. “Get my things together.”
“Diana, what?”
She hmphed and tried to push herself up but her knees buckled so he grabbed her by the waist. Blood rushed and pounded in his head. What could he do? What could he do? What could he do?
“I’ll jump you to the infirmary.”
“Fuck, no!” She exhaled and squatted again. “Is your mind turned off? You jump to the infirmary, find a wheelchair and jump it back here:”
The fear had won him over; graveness killed his humour. “I may not feel the pain,” he said in a low voice, “but I have to endure seeing you in pain.”
Regret flashed over her face and he softened, caressing her cheek before she could say sorry. “It’s okay. If you can do it, so will I.”
She sighed. “I just want our baby. Can’t it teleport out of me?”
He giggled. “Don’t be silly.” He cupped her pouting face. “It doesn’t work like that. You’re touching” – he laid his hand on her belly – “so they’d only jump together with you.” He was glad it was impossible since a baby trying to jump out of the womb sounded bloody dangerous for both of them, too. “And my ability showed only a year ago. No way an unborn could use it.”
She raised her eyebrows, like in challenge – you never know – and he bit his lip. He shouldn’t belittle her wish to have it easier. Already she looked away, over the bed and through the window, into the storm when lightning lashed over the sky.
“I don’t think they’re a teleporter anyway,” he said.
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Just so.” He didn’t know why. He simply felt they were too unique to share the ability. He found it hard to assess them without seeing them, to make assumptions about their child. They could have any ability or none at all. They could be anything. He was not even certain the name he’d picked if they weren’t a girl would still fit once they were born.
“They want to be born during the storm,” he observed.
“I think that’s on me,” Dee said. “My body waited until the heat broke.”
“Didn’t Caroline say heat can induce labour?”
“Good it didn’t happen to me.” She smirked as he frowned and fool that he was, he took everything delighting her to heart. The day before had been warm and humid. Despite her proposal, they didn’t go swimming. Dee had slept in, resting until lunching with Shade. Then she’d done paper work while he was on errands. Only in the evening did she left her room and spoke to people when he found her again, to share a walk with her. She could tell how anxious he was, always seeking her touch. She grunted when he’d reached out to support her, yet her own gaze had been nervous. Of course, she was past the due date already, and it was all waiting for the imminent birth.
“I’ll stay like this,” she told him. “Finally, this bed height is good for something.” She waved at him and slowly, he got up and grabbed the first trousers he found, and set out to bring her the wheelchair.
As he jumped back with the wheelchair after informing the infirmary, he noted he hadn’t considered that he might startle her. It didn’t matter. Her mind was too taken by aches to care when he arrived. She merely beckoned as she saw him and he rushed over. Under heavy breathing, she clasped his hand so tight it hurt. He tried not to grimace.
“Sorry,” she panted afterwards. “Instincts my ass. I can’t figure out how to breathe through the contractions. I tense up, and I have to hold on tight to something.” She loosened her fingers and gently caressed the back of his hand.
He cleared his throat. “Was it only this one …?”
“The second,” she stated, her face serious.
“Oh.” And he’d left her alone for two yet he’d had to speak with the infirmary staff. He looked at the clock again although right now he was unable to calculate anything, much less come up with something useful. “Was it okay …?”
“Okay? Not really.” She glanced away. “But no way but through. I try to think of what else Sara and Caroline said and well …” She shrugged. “I don’t get how. Easier said than done. I’ll tell myself to reject my instincts and breathe through the pain and imagine it’ll just slip out next time. Of course it won’t but the relief works for two seconds.”
That was what made it so hard to endure. Diana was never this helpless, taken over by and submitting to her own body. He stroked her shoulder. “You’re a soldier. You tense in a fight, even in pain, to defend yourself.”
“Maybe I’ve twisted my instincts.”
“No, don’t think that. You’re ready for any war.”
She turned to him. “It doesn’t feel like war at all.”
“No? How does it feel like?”
She pondered for a long moment. “War,” she began eventually,” is kill or be killed. Fight an enemy. Someone else. Always on alert. Now I couldn’t be on alert if I tried. It’s … all-consuming. My strength, attention, control, my body demands all. Within myself. To do something great.” One arm hugged her belly. “I’m more comforted to think of meeting our child than by calling myself a brave warrior.”
“And strong.”
She paused. “Maybe. Yes, probably. To keep going after a surge of pain is strength.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Let’s move, Sara can soothe it.”
Dee held on to the bed. “Moving sounds shitty.”
“Ah …”
She waved off. “We have to try.” With large effort, she shifted out of her squatting, then waited for feeling to return to her legs and with greater effort, they rose, then sank down again because the wheelchair was too far away. After Shade brought it closer and Diana up, she winced as she sat down. She froze for a moment and Shade expected the next cramp before she relaxed. “This is terribly uncomfortable.” She wriggled but found no better – or any other – position.
He exhaled harshly. “It’s a short way.”
The shortness of the way was of little consequence when, against Shade’s hopes, they didn’t make it before the next contraction. How did that feel when Dee found the wheelchair uncomfortable to begin with?
Her wince told enough although she didn’t ask him to stop at first. He halted as her panting grew heavier and heavier and she didn’t hesitate to grasp his arm, unable to speak.
It pinched, and he looked aside until it was over, Dee’s groans ebbing away. “I tried,” she said, “to breathe through it.”
He nodded, cupping her cheek. “You’ll be ready,” he said, and for once, even as her hands shook, he found confidence in her eyes as she inclined her head. No caveat it might all go wrong anyway.
To go on this endeavour of pregnancy meant confidence by itself, he’d assumed in between her tears and doubt. Just as he realized how deep-rooted they were, Diana seemed to overcome them under the onslaught of birth pains. Strange how soft her touch became after she’d pinched him so hard.
“There was never a turning back,” she said.
In the infirmary, Sara and Caroline had replaced the night shift who’d given him the wheelchair. They didn’t wait to fuss over Diana, helping her on a bed, preparing examinations and machines with Caroline making encouraging speeches she never offered to him.
Dee was transfixed and coddled by the baby’s heartbeat monitor, taking the chance to lie down for a moment and hugging her belly, so it came as a surprise when she addressed him. “Will you bring the rest of our things?” she asked. “Don’t forget arms. And cancel my schedule?”
For a second, lost in the sound and anticipation himself, then thinking of both knives or guns and clothes Gisa had made on guesses, he didn’t process the latter request. “What schedule?” he inquired. Dee stared, unconcerned, so he went on. “Why do you have anything scheduled past due date?”
She flinched. Shit. Had he been too brusque? “I mean, tell them I’m unavailable,” she clarified. “For two weeks,” she added. As if in placation. The time frame was merely assumed but better to set some limit beforehand. He readied to move, glancing at her, as Dee opened her mouth but was interrupted by a cramp. He rushed toward her but Sara was as quick, hands on Dee’s shoulder and side and Dee eased visibly.
“Go,” she whispered and he kissed her brow with a squeeze of her hand to relieve her with finished errands.
It wouldn’t be done with informing Command. He also had to tell his family and needed to get food but he had to go about this practically – first finding the officers, then gathering their things. Or get properly dressed first. He still wore his bed shirt and the first trousers he could grab. Why bother, though, if his attire emphasized the situation? He jumped to the command rooms, his fist millimeters from the door before he hesitated to knock. Did she send him here to tell the colonel directly, in person? Giving him a peace offering by telling him first? His arm turned leaden. Was he up to that?
But he had done that all these months, hadn’t he? Follow along with Diana’s need to work with the colonel. Yet when it was about her labour, it gained another meaning, a finality. Not only looking out for Diana’s health but confronting her father with there being a real, present baby in a short time. Shade shook his head. They were a family. And the colonel was family. Whatever. He grasped the doorknob – and turned away at the last chance and went one room further, to knock softly at an office not crowded with commanders where Ada bid him to come in.
Inside, she sipped her first coffee of the morning. She appeared astounded herself to see him – here, at this time, and dishevelled as he was. It gave him a kick. Even Ada, so collected and smart, could be surprised by new developments. By the birth’s force. But what was new about it, wasn’t Diana giving birth perfectly predictable?
He cleared his throat and braided his fingers. “Farley will be off-duty for the time being,” he told a wide-eyed Ada. “For two weeks at least. She’s in labour now.”
After a second of staring and a mouthful of coffee, Ada nodded. “Of course. You’d like me to pass it on? For you?”
He evaded her eyes. “Thank you, indeed. I … have you noticed the pregnancy annoys the colonel?” He could not fight him again today. Not now. He couldn’t afford a quarrel lingering on his soul with a greater thing on his mind. What if the colonel barked more complaints and demands? Or worse – if he turned tender out of nothing?
“I have.” Lost in thoughts, Shade startled at Ada’s reply. He matched her focused gaze. “I have noticed he treats it like nuisance,” Ada said.
It lifted him up, how serious and understanding she looked at him. A bit of his tension relaxed. Ada was so different, hard to grasp. They were newbloods from the Notch but Ada was older, with distinct experiences and mannerisms. When you met her, the strongest impressions were of a former servant and sharp intelligence. Both obscured the heart and dreams of the woman beneath.
She slid around him and offered him a mug. “A little drink to wake you up?” she said.
He smiled. It could’ve seemed like the act of a housemaid but it didn’t feel like it at all, rather like friendship, with a humorous sprinkle.
She touched his arm as they both drank. “Too early to gratulate?” she asked.
He lowered his head, “Yeah,” he agreed. “She’d be superstitious about it.”
Ada squeezed, her golden eyes shining with care. “My best wishes, then,” she replied. “You can tell her that. And the rest of leadership goes along, too. As does our team, of course. We’ll step in.” After all, Ada was Diana’s other lieutenant. He had to smile at that.
“Thank you so much, you know. Farley rarely eases control of her responsibilities.”
“She can rely on us,” Ada assured him, and it went deeper even than heartfelt loyalty.
Ada and the team might write Dee a greeting card, he thought. He’d never cared for those before, finding them performative and politeness veiling spite for the silvers in Corvium but he realized Dee would appreciate one as proof and keepsake of her soldiers supporting both her rank and motherhood.
His family, of course, didn’t send much greeting cards – too few knew how to write in the Stilts for them to be popular. Shade did write, an act of resilient pride, but nothing so shallow as two phrases on a greeting card. In return, they had other ways to show affection. When he entered his family’s kitchen, his parents watched him in exactly that way that proved they got the alert without announcement. He did it anyway. “Diana’s in labour, I just wanted to tell you.”
No idea where his siblings were. As his parents didn’t react, he turned aside. “So, I need to get back –”
“One moment, Shade!” His mom rushed to him, pulling him to the table. “How is she? Have you even eaten? Don’t tell me there’s an emergency?”
“No, Mom, she’s fine – as she can be.” He dropped on a chair and rubbed his eyes. Taking rest. When he opened them again, breakfast was spread before him. He took a fork but didn’t touch any food. It flustered him so he could only stare. His mom gave him food like when he was a child while his own child was being born. He couldn’t, Diana needed –
He cleared his throat. “Mom, please, I’m not the baby here. It’s been so long, so much to do, and Diana must be waiting, and I still have …” He shrugged.
His mother crossed her arms. “It’s not about being a baby,” she objected. “We help each other when someone is in need.”
Mom’s tone always had the perfect blend of resolute and loving. Wasn’t Dee mistress of that – he coughed, not from eating. “Sure, thanks,” he agreed and started to eat. Mom expected action to follow the words. She sat down and patted his shoulder, “Bring Diana something, too.”
Back in their rooms, Shade was dizzy – from jumping, and dashing from task to task, steadily on edge to have forgotten something. He’d almost left the food from his parents behind, and then ran around to pack anything else Dee might want, including a holster with pistol and knife – if only to give her the impression they could defend themselves. When his final look around fell on the bed, he cursed aloud.
It was still soiled, and he had to get it clean. How to find a replacement when the mattress was so ridiculously huge? How could he ask the Scarlet Guard for another, would they have to change rooms after all? And the baby’s cot, was it alright?
He shook himself. Well, looking wouldn’t help bring them into life. The cot would have to do, for a few days at least. He’d not check if the desk turned changing table was fittingly stocked. Diana was waiting. He spent another moment with the bed, and prepared a request for the lodging organizers, before picking up the bag and food and jumping to the infirmary.
Not wanting to land with baggage right beside Dee, he’d adjusted the jump, only to arrive outside the infirmary. Another curse. He rolled his shoulders and turned, gasping to run into Mare who shrieked at him. He blinked. What was she doing here? And so … muddy. Although she hadn’t been with their parents.
Mare stepped away from him, grinning after a moment, “You’re expected,” she said.
He groaned, dropping the bag. “I know.”
Mare’s face softened. “She’d doing great though. We … talked, and Farley was so calm.”
“She’s not always, and not really calm,” he objected, his voice lowering. “She’s used to appear controlled even when she’s afraid.” He urged forward.
“Right,” Mare agreed readily. Her new tone made Shade pause. He looked over his shoulder at her. “You’re the person she can let go with,” Mare said. He inclined his head, curious. “That’s great, that you got this … all this.”
A light and tender feeling flooded him, sillily, just because Mare acknowledged their love. He turned fully, careful with the food tray, and moved to hug Mare with his free arm. At the last chance, he hesitated, waiting for Mare’s approval, and embraced her when she gave it. “It is great,” he whispered. Terrifyingly and wonderfully great. He closed his eyes, lingering one more second. “Thanks,” he said, and let go.
“Sure,” Mare replied quietly before adding, lighter, “good luck.”
He wince-smiled, already assessing if he had to change clothes now. Probably. Still, he straightened. Despite all weary worrying, he was eager.
~~A short time earlier~~
Lightning had left the sky but it was still flashing in Farley’s eyes and branched in twists along her back. The anticipation of the next contraction before it became thunder. She blinked the wetness in her eyes away, focused on her breathing as the pain erased all thinking. Still, she was getting the hang of it. It was like falling into the bed, the mattress pressing into the side she laid on.
How was the lying a greater bother than the cramp? Every position was uncomfortable, a shift only a limited reprieve before it left her sore as well. Her limbs were weak and shaking, her head flushing red between sweating from exertion and cold shivers while her breasts were so tender they burned, and hunger turned into gagging. The medics told her of a painful urge to push when it was time yet her hips had felt the pressure of her hard and heavy womb since she woke up.
She breathed out deeply one more time as the contraction ended. It was so hard, demanding more than she’d considered. Her body wanted this baby out of her, now, and she had no control of it, had only the option to comply. Every cell of her body worked to give birth and her father would call it a waste, an unnecessary risk. But no work for the Guard had ever challenged her so entirely.
It was not a waste, and she didn’t mind what it demanded. It only increased the meaning of it, proving how it was neither easy or brushed over to give birth, and it didn’t scare or overwhelm her either. It was a task, and she would excel at it. Cradling her belly, she searched for her baby’s reaction to it all but gone were the soft spots and fluttering movements within that she’d grown used to. There was merely the beeping monitor giving reassuring stats. She sighed. Strangely, in labour, it felt less like a baby. Was it in pain, too? Did anybody know? She wanted to comfort and hug it. Absurdly, she thought. She couldn’t touch and protect her child more than within her body yet she was also unable to influence what happened within, and – well, maybe it had taken labour pain to be done being pregnant. She was ready to give birth, to face bringing her baby into this dangerous world. She wanted the release to push, to know what it felt like to feed it from her breasts. Just once.
“We’ll meet them today,” Shade had told her, first thing. The sentence kept running through her mind. The message, the hope, and the sound of his voice. It was a caress to tide her over as she waited for him to return.
“You okay?” Nurse Caroline asked, sidling to her bed and checking the monitor.
Farley nodded. “Can you shift me?” she requested.
“We can remove the monitoring, too,” Caroline offered as she helped Farley. “So you could walk around. Nothing is amiss, and Sara can look after you.”
“No need,” she replied. She could not walk around anyway, trying not to let that frighten her. Better to be relieved by the machines.
Caroline tilted her head. “Up for an examination?”
She must’ve moved Farley upright to lie on her back for that reason. Well, why not. Caroline was most attentive, explaining what she did and asking before doing something invasive.
“And?” Farley inquired after a while.
“Progressing as it should.” Caroline looked up, soft-eyed. “Some time to go though.”
More waiting then. A pang at being alone hit her that she pushed down. Shade could not take much more time, could he? Farley gazed into the distance. It was just a little while, yet she already couldn’t bear to rest on her back. She reached for Caroline to help her lean forward so she was sitting.
“Should I call Sara back?” Caroline said. Farley was lucky no battle drew the skinhealer away but Sara still had more tasks on her. Although she clearly enjoyed tending to Farley, to assist with the happy occasion of a baby.
“She could ease the pain,” Caroline added.
Farley sighed. “I can endure it.” She thought. Well, it was nice to know she could rely on Sara as an option.
“She could tell you if it’s a girl or boy, too,” Caroline said.
Farley snorted. “A bit too late, isn’t it? I can wait a few hours more.” She looked at Caroline. “And Shade doesn’t want to know, so I can’t know either.”
Carolien tsked. “He’s a killjoy.”
Farley frowned. “No, it’s cute. He wants to meet them without assumptions.”
“If you say so.” Her expression told of her doubts – couldn’t a lack of curiosity not imply a lack of interest? Farley understood that but didn’t believe it. Its gender would say nothing of the person their child would be, and Shade wished to get to know the latter.
“And what’s he doing now?” Caroline complained. “Ran off to abandon you.”
“I sent him on errand.” Farley corrected.
“Was he glad for it?”
“Don’t talk like that,” she chided Caroline. She glanced down. “He gives me everything I need.”
He’d say it so lightly, casually. “If you want this, you’ll get it. I’ll make sure of it.” He shrugged when she wanted him to elaborate. “You make things happen,” he’d replied, like he meant she was an efficient officer. It was clearly more than that, though, because he also applied it to little every day and private things. Getting the right clothing and equipment during her pregnancy. Food to her taste. Touches that lit a somber mood before it settled in deeper. The small luxuries she didn’t dare to ask for. Shade really took care she lacked nothing she wanted. On most days, it was insisting she wasn’t less capable for having a child.
When the pregnancy became a certainty, he was quick to assure her it was okay, her right, to want things for herself – including a family of her own.
She didn’t even know how to thank him. How to put it in words, and return the favour. No one ever told her she could have everything she wanted – much less gave it to her. Yet here he was, giving her all of it.
One time, after another joking “as you wish”, she was about to ask if he would apply that to their baby, too. The idea flustered her completely. She’d held her tongue, though. For one thing, she wouldn’t tell her child they could have everything they wanted. That was just not reasonable. What if they meant dangerous things? Nor was she about to make promises she couldn’t keep. She wanted to be true to them.
But. Imagining that Shade raised them with this confidence, this expectation they could never want too much, they had rights to it – it made her ache with the same hope Shade had triggered in her from the first time they met.
She’d joined the Scarlet Guard for want and dreams, yet with the constant loss and dread, the sheer exertion to survive, dreams drifted far away.
On the other hand, Shade had the drive to fight for the cause, but the way he longed for more came with going his own way. He wasn’t committed at all costs, hadn’t traded in his heart to be a better operative. In the same way he was a bad soldier for Norta because he was a rebel fighting for himself.
Although the colonel had raised her to believe in her own dignity, he was a master at denying his private life – their lives. Farley had gone along, strove to be perfect, effective, fearless in her endeavours and in a way, she felt the same about her pregnancy.
The colonel did not. She had disobeyed their plans. Her baby wasn’t part of the fight, would distract her from the cause and he couldn’t accept it, couldn’t look at her now without thinking what a mistake she was making straying away from strategy and goals. He’d held his tongue at first, seeing her argument that he had no issue interfering with what she did with her own body, flesh and blood. Even that vanished with her promotion to general – how was she to manage leadership, to outrank the colonel, when she had chosen to divide her focus and energy for a baby?
With Shade, she’d reclaimed her heart, life and family and all the colonel saw was how vulnerable it made her, even implied it made her look unreliable if she hadn’t control over her body – by conceiving. And if her heart belonged to her baby, it wasn’t bound and sold to the success of the cause.
Her father never realized how much she loathed to deaden her heart. When Farley had seen how Shade dreamt bigger, deeper, wider, he’d pulled her back and woke her wants again, reminded her she was a person with a heart and needs. Other comrades had cared for her well-being, but when Shade looked out for her, he did it so she could be herself. Reds didn’t get to be themselves. Couldn’t seek fulfilment when they struggled to survive. Shade demanded it anyway.
She could believe he’d be a father that taught their child to aspire – if another part of her didn’t suspect he did all that less for the baby than for her.
“He’s left you, still.” Caroline returned to her nagging.
“He’ll never leave me,” Farley insisted with a glare Caroline couldn’t win against. She’d stopped counting how often he’d told her that, each time a promise filled with passion and need that both anchored and lifted her.
Caroline smiled in defeat. For a moment, a tenderness cracked through her flippant mask as she leaned forward to brush Farley’s face. “Then I am glad,” Caroline said with quiet earnest, “that you have someone you’re happy with.” Close up, Farley saw the red the light brought out in Caroline’s dark brown hair. As her words sank, settling in her head, she remembered the other time they’d been so close, when the tips of her hair fell over Caroline’s bare brown shoulders. She swallowed. That night had come to a sober conclusion.
“He’ll be back soon, you’ll see,” Farley said, strangely soft, and Caroline pulled away.
“I’ll look for Sara,” the nurse said, giving Farley a last exasperated, if affectionate glance. To show the moment was over.
Farley sighed after her. Hmphing through the next cramp. Caroline was so loyal yet had loved to tease Shade from the start, when they’d returned to Tuck and Farley had asked for a pregnancy examination. Sara had been accommodating and Caroline most heedful against Farley’ own mortification.
“Don’t be nervous,” Caroline had said with a squeeze of her hand. “I already know you intimately.”
Farley wasn’t convinced that made it any less awkward. A few years ago, after a bloody day in battle and in infirmary afterwards, she and Caroline had grasped each other for a single night of passionate comfort. The arousal hadn’t lasted for Farley, as it rarely did. She might want sex yet didn’t desire people she wasn’t in love with, which took time for her, too.
Now she wondered if the memory drove Caroline to taunt Shade like this, although how could it be jealousy when neither Caroline or Farley had been in love? Was it the amusement that Shade didn’t know of their shared past? Didn’t Farley see how funny it was that she and Caroline parted with only a memory, not meeting again until that day on Tuck where Farley returned, pregnant and after disgrace, while Shade had given her a child, his love, himself?
Well, Farley called it funny, because she was happy about her baby with Shade. Others thought it a nuisance and according to Shade, some silvers considered babies out of wedlock a shame. When you were to obediently agree to marry into alliances of power, you were not supposed to choose who you had sex and children with by yourself.
The door opened and Sara glided in, followed by Caroline and – Mare? Behind them, Cal stood and slid along the corridor past the door.
Mare was dishevelled, worked out, dirty. Almost like she bad been in the storm – or did she make the storm? Farley had heard of electricons accomplishing that, and that feat would explain the pleased look on Mare’s face, it was really smug and – when their eyes locked, something clicked and spoke of a different kind of pleasure and as Farley realized what Mare and Cal were up to, she could see why Caroline had dragged her here.
“Found the prospective aunt,” announced Caroline, the “only” remaining unsaid.
“Yes,” Farley replied slowly, “thanks.” She beckoned Mare over. Breathed in and thought. She kept her gaze on Mare, holding on the link they had in this moment.
I’ve been you.
You could be me.
She hugged her belly.
Deciding Caroline could be a medical professional when she wanted to, Farley asked in a whisper about the contraceptives Caroline had mentioned the base had in stock. To her credit, the nurse didn’t even blink and went ahead. She must’ve already grasped the situation in the corridor before making Mare visit Farley.
“You haven’t seen Shade, did you?” she asked Mare. When she shook her head, Farley snorted. “Been outside with Cal, weren’t – ah!” She hadn’t anticipated that cramp. Way to scare Mare. She tried to breathe out but was overwhelmed by the suddenness until Sara came over to cup her face, relief flooding her and erasing her thoughts, just like contractions did by pain.
“Don’t worry,” she said afterward, panting still. “We have it under control, thanks to Sara and Caroline.” Sara offered an encouraging smile. “Good thing, as it’ll take a while to explode.” She winced.
Mare cocked her head. “Does the general have time for that?” She sounded so snarky Farley was lost for a moment if it was a taunt or a joke before they both laughed. And yet, they were both on alert, Farley for the next cramp and Mare because ceasefire didn’t come easy to her.
“I will make time for it,” Farley stated, recovered. “What would be the point otherwise?” She caught Mare with her gaze. “Why fight if I can’t keep my child safe and cared for?”
While that was obvious, should be obvious, it had taken Shade’s determined support to insist on it, their needs, to say it aloud and make demands to Command, her comrades, her father. Theirs was a fight for the future, for those who came after and those who couldn’t fight for themselves and all called her to do both things at once. Shade agreed with her. Yet people chided her for both – the selfish wish for a child, and to fight instead of focusing on her baby. She knew Command backed her as general as long as she offered high performance. Already, the next battle loomed, one she was expected to lead like a condition to her promotion, regardless of whether she’d be ready for it yet when it called for action.
She’d accepted under the assumption a general would have it easier to object.
“I’ve received enough glares for either. Why do I bother the Guard with this condition? Why don’t I pull away from the Guard for the baby? They don’t understand it comes together – how could I not fight for our baby? I’ve seen my mother and sister killed by silvers – I can’t let it happen again, not to my child.” She exhaled. “How could I not try all to make it better for them?” She was stunned by her own intensity – why spill all this to Mare, of all people?
It had to be the emotional overload of the birth but – no, not that alone. She saw it on Mare’s face. They were more than rebel comrades, or two women confronted with pregnancy. They talked again for the first time in six months that were life-changing for them both in completely different ways and now they met as family.
Farley shifted. She was building a family while Mare had been imprisoned. If they were related, she owed her more, had to offer something of herself.
Mare tucked her hair back. “I can’t stop fighting either,” she said. “My mom …” she sighed. “She wishes to pamper me.”
“She didn’t have the chance in a long time,” Farley replied. Mare stared at her, and Farley laughed. Did Mare wonder how much Ruth coddled Farley? “She cares for … us,” she went on with gravity. “But as a support, not a rope.”
Mare watched her, sharply. It was back, the resentment, that Farley had bonded with Ruth while Mare was in a cage. It could not vanish.
“I know,” Mare admitted, tense. “She will not hold me back, but it can be a reminder. The fussing.”
Farley looked away. Mare was a survivor. Suffering had shaped her, and taught her to adapt. You didn’t leave behind those experiences unchanged, but how could the people around you understand who hadn’t lived through it? It went deeper than envy, split in facets. Didn’t Farley know it too? Her father had raised her to believe in herself, her strength and rights. Yet he expected her to put herself and her wishes behind and her heart wholly in the cause.
“You can’t blame a mother for fussing,” Farley said quietly. “Trust me.” She smiled faintly. “I never felt allowed to wonder if I could have children in the Guard,” she explained. “My father still says it makes me vulnerable.” For now, being pregnant, creating an unnecessary risk for her health, but also by loving a small child the enemy could target. “And yet, I am so happy about it.” Her smile brightened. It was so weird to say it aloud, to anyone but Shade. Maybe her father had a point. It was frightening to admit you loved someone.
Mare leaned forward, carefully not touching the bed. Right. She still showed the marks of … whatever she’d done outside and avoided soiling Farley’s surroundings.
“The tough Captain Farley, so full of love,” she teased.
Farley flushed. “It’s General,” she evaded.
Mare cackled. “Sure, does General Farley love my brother?”
She had forgotten Mare could do this, use words like this. Her face heated further and she blinked to win time. “He … he had glimpsed and chased my heart,” she said. “There was only battle before him.” She cleared her throat. Glancing away. She hugged her belly, seeking something to hold on to.
“Six months ago,” Mare said, “I didn’t even notice you were together. And now …”
“No need to remind me,” Farley said. “I had to go through my love life becoming visible to everyone.”
Mare tilted her head. “Not just that. I couldn’t overlook now how besotted you are.”
Somehow, that lifted Farley’s breath. The Mare six months ago hadn’t missed Farley and Shade because they were so secretive but because she’d been obsessed on the quest, more so than the rest. As she had changed perspective during her ordeals, Cal was the one to turn obsessed, barely reined in to work with the Guard. Farley clocked him in on the common goal, or offered him favours and a place when he had nowhere to go but there were other days he couldn’t meet her eyes or failed to greet Shade.
He pined so hard for Mare, ashamed of his brother’s doings, that he ached to see another couple. Farley and Shade weren’t – for the most part – big on affection in public. It didn’t matter. How they looked at, touched or spoke to each other was show enough that pierced Cal through.
And that was only her and Shade. Cal had many grounds for anger, despair and resentment and Farley never forgot how tenuous their alliance was, without Mare.
“Cal is besotted with you,” she said to Mare who snickered, stepping back. She couldn’t hide her flush, though. Farley swallowed her own giggle. Ah, there was that. From the angle of her eyes, she saw Caroline return.
“He’ll stay with us now that you’re back …” It was almost a question, though Mare didn’t react. Farley went on. “It took him long enough to commit.”
Mare frowned. “Commitment is his nature,” she claimed, her commitment to him evident. “Now Shade …”
Caroline’s grasp of Farley’s shoulder interrupted them. At the nurse’s raised eyebrow, Farley nodded to her and took the tablet with a pill in a glass Caroline brought. She considered it, and her next words.
“Shade adores you,” Mare said into the silence.
Farley jerked up. Because Mare stated it so bluntly, and that she thought the pill must be for Farley. “I … suppose so,” she fished for words. It still flustered her to talk about Shade with anyone but Shade – although she had started the topic. How could she agree without sounding embarrassing arrogant? She was embarrassed herself, unmoored by his devotion. “If only I could show him wonderful he is…” She almost wished for a contraction to spare her the talk.
And Mare stared at her like she’d said a bucket of crap. Great. There it went, her chance to proof worthy of Mare’s brother. She rolled her shoulders, steeling herself. “You get that I don’t like everyone, Mare Barrow,” she said like this was a battle pep talk. “So I could never give up on those I do love.” She narrowed her eyes. “I made this choice. So should you.” She held the tablet out to Mare who calculated a moment to understand. Shifting emotions ran over Mare’s face, surprise, awkwardness, relief. It mirrored how she’d entered, the moment they both understood the connection that led Farley to ask for the pill. “If you have questions …” Farley said.
“I’ll ask,” Mare agreed quickly, glancing at Caroline but taking the pill right away.
“Thank you and I, ah, I’ll have a shower,” Mare said, nodding. She hesitated to walk out though. Sobering. “Good luck,” she wished. Farley smiled.
“But, Farley … Shade. He has to learn to keep himself whole and healthy.” Farley froze at Mare’s expression. She was back to six months ago, back to her capture where she sacrificed herself for Shade as much as everyone else. “He’d do anything for you, you know? For your baby. I’m certain you’d as well, for him …” Her throat bobbed. “And so would I. But …”
Farley knew when her glare had to speak of conviction. “I love him too much,” she said with emphasis, “to exploit his usefulness.” She caressed her belly while she could not caress him. “I’ll do all to protect him if he won’t look after himself.” With effort, she straightenend, and made herself smile. “I believe he’ll obey if I command him to, though.”
Mare’s answering smile was weak but persistent. Bashful. “And keep his heart safe as well.”
Farley shifted, searching for a new angle for her thighs. Keep Shade’s heart safe. As if any heart was safe. Even unborn, their child demanded they put their hearts out for it. She grunted, waiting for the new cramp, uncertain how long this calm would last. She’d wanted to be helpful to Mare, offer the same service of options of birth control, examinations or abortions as to her other soldiers. She knew how she hadn’t done this for herself the first night she’d spent with Shade and how, if anyone had handed an after pill to her in the same way, she would’ve taken it, too, and then she would’ve never reached this day.
Would she have regretted that?
Would she even have known to regret something? She would’ve taken the after pill just like she’d used birth control afterwards.
In the end, her child came to be by chance and the same chance, she could’ve conceived another time or not at all. She sighed, hesitantly, as if a deep breath called forth a cramp. Maybe she had needed chance to come this far, by granting herself a night to give up control, when she hadn’t felt free to choose if she wanted children. What mattered was that she had chosen this, got to make her choice given the situation she was in, while Mare’s choice was her own.
She startled when Mare cried out on the corridor but she couldn’t discern what happened – until Shade appeared in the room.
“A moment,” he said, and vanished again, leaving her gasping – and with the demanded bag dropped in the corner and a tray of food on a sideboard.
“Well, thanks for the update,” Caroline said drily.
Farley couldn’t help it. She laughed along, because Caroline had voiced her own thought.
It was only a moment when he came back, changed into new clothes, but his ruggedness still spoke for itself. Matching his approach, she leaned forward and this time, she noted the signs of the coming contraction. She didn’t flinch but adjusted her breathing, even as it hit just when Shade hugged her. She panted as he muttered words into her ear, understanding only something about mattresses, and how brave she was. She groaned against the pain and hugged him back. Ear on his chest, she heard his heart throb. Anxious. Scared. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’ll be okay if our baby is,” she replied, but for the first time in months, she wasn’t scared – she couldn’t do this if she was, and she wasn’t because he was with her.
“You’re so in love, it’s sickeningly sweet,” Caroline said. She jested, Farley noted when the pain released her, because Caroline’s smile was sugar itself, a spoon of the sweet hazelnut cream that Shade had brought in her mouth.
“The sweetness will get me through,” Farley replied, her arms holding tight on Shade. She could always lean on him.
May 15th, noon
He reached Diana right when she had a contraction, he could tell even if she didn’t cry out. She grew tense and stiff, and her hands grabbed him sharply. Immediately, the anxiety was back, and all he could do was hold her as she held on to him. It seemed she didn’t hear what he said, and welcomed his prattling anyway, until she relaxed ever so slightly. His heart kept thundering, she stayed leaning against him. She sat squatting, bent forward, clinging fingers turning to caressing.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ve kept you waiting. I’ve brought food, and removed the soiled mattress. It was just a lighter top really, so we can simply use base matt– ” he stopped when she glanced up.
“Thanks, wonderful you remembered,” she said absentmindedly.
He embraced her. “You want some food?”
She groaned, clearly struggling to move. “Yeah.”
The rest of the morning, she breathed, sobbed, screamed her way through labour. She remained in her stance after eating, to his astonishment, having found some kind of comfortable position. Her weight was on him, leaning, her brow on his shoulder. He marvelled she could endure her legs like this during all this time when he didn’t know where to rest his. He moved, though, adjusting himself and rubbing and stroking her back at times. She held him in place like a stone and he breathed nearly against her head, with her hand on his chest. He felt his shirt grow wet from her ongoing touch.
After he told of the conversations he’d had, he banned all thoughts of sounding stupid in repetition as he spoke of her courage, endurance and excitement again and again, because it lightened her up just a bit every time. He was there. He’d do what he could.
Diana shook, rattling him as well. “Sara!” she cried out, reaching out her hand and the healer grasped it in no time, already feeling over her back.
“It is time,” Sara announced, after Dee had apparently realized it herself. Shade gathered himself. “Almost done,” he said, as Sara stood behind Dee and Caroline moved to her side.
“With the next contraction,” Sara explained calmly, “you can push. Try not to …”
Dee screamed.
“… scream,” Sara finished. Dee panted and groaned as the cramp lasted. Sara massaging her reassuringly.
“I shouldn’t have,” Dee said, understanding whatever Sara had meant.
“No, it’s okay,” Sara said. “Sometimes it’s easier to scream. Maybe it’ll take a few contractions more. Next time, chin on chest and push.” She’d told them that before, he was sure, but Diana hardly checked through her memory right now. All too soon, she tensed again. And again. While she only grunted, her fingers dug deeper into him as he kept her upright, accepting that what happened was between Diana and Sara. Until, for a moment, Dee glanced up for the first time in what felt like hours, meeting his eyes. Her mouth opened but her voice caught, and she turned away again as if she hadn’t raised her head.
But he’d never forget it, her expression the last minute before – as she knew – their baby was born, Diana screaming at last and the child for the first time.
His ears rang, Dee’s rough panting a dimmed sound. He grasped her, tightly, against the shock of relaxing. “You were amazing,” he told her, caressing through her sweaty hair.
Sara ah-ed and oh-ed like she couldn’t tie in her excitement any longer before giving the news. “A sweet healthy girl,” she said. Dee rasped in gladness.
“Congratulations,” Caroline added.
He hardly noticed what happened then. Next he knew, Diana was off him and resting against the raised bed, eagerly reaching for her baby. She was wrapped in a towel, her cord supposedly cut already.
Dee claimed her like a lifeline. “You’re here,” she said. “Don’t be scared. I love you. I’ll change the world for you. I …” she looked up, tears running over her face. She beckoned him. “Come here,” she ordered, extending an arm before returning it quickly to the baby. Their baby.
He felt so humbled. What had he done? And how hard it was to move, still, his legs going from numb to pins and needles. He couldn’t fall over himself now. He tried standing on one foot and pulled himself over, to sit next to Dee.
She gave him a quick glance before it was back on the girl. It was like she could watch her endlessly. “Clara,” she said, and caressed her face. She didn’t even hesitate. With every second, she seemed more certain. “She’s Clara,” she repeated to him, expecting his acknowledgement.
He nodded, serious and smiling, although he was stunned she decided on the name out of nothing. All this time, all her fears, and now she was a picture of smug pride. And why not? Hadn’t she achieved a marvellous success?
He clung to Diana, daring to look at Clara but reluctant to touch. Dee was so elated but the baby he saw was so new, delicate, frail. Everything about her was so tiny and her sounds were whimpering even when crying out. It dawned on him what it would take to raise her. It was hard to imagine this small new human would be their size one day.
“I could hardly believe you’d be so big and strong,” Dee said. “We’re so lucky.” She sniffed, wiping her face. Whether from Clara or herself, it smeared a trace of blood over her face, crossing right over the scar on her cheek. The sight took Shade’s breath. That scar – suddenly, he had to remember how she got that and blushed. The connection was too heavy, the baby in her arms and the wound she suffered and he’d stitched the night they’d made Clara.
Clara began to wail with her moves, so Dee shifted her hold. Her sounds grew louder and Shade thought she was just getting used to her voice – did she have to learn screaming? The idea was stupidly cute. Of course Clara would scream at them in time but now, Diana pulled at her shirt and guided Clara to the tip of her breast before the real crying started.
“Let’s try it for once,” she said. Try indeed, as her face spoke of her uncertainty. They both observed with curiosity. Shade had the urge to caress Clara’s head and her wispy hair but didn’t dare to disturb her nursing.
He cleared his throat. “Does she drink much?”
Dee shrugged cluelessly. “She drinks.” And did so calmly, and calmed. A little bit of tension left Diana, returning her to her relieved glowing as Clara let go. Dee cradled her ever so slightly, waiting for her meal to settle. It was enchanting to watch them, so much Shade felt frozen again, too stunned to reach out, break the spell and hold Clara himself.
He’d have to make himself –
“Excuse me, madam,” said Sara with a touch on Dee’s shoulder. She leaned over and Dee nodded. “I have to look after the afterbirth. It hasn’t emerged.” Dee paled. Sara’s soft voice, so reassuring in its quiet musicality, went on. “You’ve asked to have any tears healed and I’ve wanted to give you more time,” Sara continued, “but before it becomes concerning, I’d remove the afterbirth and heal you in one go.”
“Sure?”
“You should’ve rested longer before the healing procedure,” Sara explained. “I’ll just speed up what your body would do on its own. As you’re still exhausted, doing it so early will sap your strength further – for days. You’ll sleep a lot.”
“So you mean …?”
“Are you okay I do it like this?” Technically, Sara could transfer her own energy to her patients but only did that when lives where at stake, to save her own strength. Diana didn’t need that, apparently.
Her mouth open, Diana hesitated to reply. Without looking up, she held Clara tighter, Shade knew she’d decided when she moved again, eyes on their baby. “It’s okay,” she said, long moments later.
Shade grasped her shoulder, talking into her ear. “Really?” he asked quietly. “Maybe if you wait with the extra treatment ... you can be with Clara.”
Her gaze spun to him, sharp and determined. “I feel like an open wound,” she said in a low voice. It shook Shade, reminding him he couldn’t begin to imagine what she’d gone through.
“Sorry,” he whispered, his head nudging her temple.
“I don’t want to get sick,” Dee said, and turned back to Clara, until she lifted her to give her a kiss.
Clara reached up which Diana met with a pained smile. “I love you,” she told her once more. Encouragingly, Shade stroked her back. “I’ll come back,” she said, and caught Sara’s waiting but patient expression.
Shade swallowed, startling when Dee tucked at this shirt. She passed Clara to him before he realized what happened, seeing only the blood on her face and her expectant eyes. “Make sure she keeps breathing,” she demanded. With a squeeze of his arm and a kiss so light he wondered he dreamt it, she took her leave, giving herself into Sara and Caroline’s care as Shade, on feeble legs, slid off the bed they’d stayed on for hours to see Clara born. Caroline gestured at him to move to the room next door but he neither could nor want to look away from the bloodily soiled linen. He grasped Clara for her safety as much as seeking an anchor in her.
It was the first time he felt the weight of her, and it was a lot heavier than the few kilos of her body. Already, he held less the mass than the idea of her, the change she brought to his whole life –
Fingers pressed into his shoulder, throwing him out of the contemplation he sank into. He almost stumbled, less sure on his feet than when he let go of the world’s bindings with his teleporting.
Nurse Caroline glared at him. “I am to check the baby.” When Shade’s face remained blank instead of agreeing, replying, passing Clara over, she took matters into her own hands, lifting Clara so routinely, confidently that Shade could offer no resistance nor words which only deepened the frown on Caroline’s brow, even if her touch of Clara was gentle, assured and unrushed. She wiped Clara first with the towel, then set water running as she took measure and did some basic examinations before giving her a bath.
Shade watched it all, curious- and dubiously. Wasn’t it all too much for Clara? Several different people, lights, cool air, thunder outside and now a tub of water. He wanted to inquire but didn’t dare to question Caroline with her resoluteness rivalling Diana’s. A lump blocked his throat.
“You needn’t worry about Farley,” Caroline said eventually.
“Umm …” he’d eyed Clara, as he’d promised Diana, observing how she was reacting to the water – uncertain, though not afraid.
“Sara knows what she’s doing,” Caroline added.
“I don’t…” It wasn’t Sara he doubted, it was … “It’s a problem, though?” He’d hoped and wished to avoid such complications. As anxious as he was about their baby, he’d relied on Diana’s youth, health and uncomplicated pregnancy, so much Sara and Caroline’s care was more of a contingency than necessity. That Diana needed medical attention, could be in danger in a more dire situation – entirely possible within the Scarlet Guard – shook his belief in her security.
Caroline glanced over her shoulder at him. “It’s routine work,” she said, eyes back on Clara who started to enjoy her bath that woke envy of the nurse in him. Why did he feel so helpless when he should make her laugh?
“I could’ve done it. I have done it before,” Caroline went on. She took a surprised Clara from the tub to dry her and dress her in a fresh towel and diaper. “Farley could’ve passed the afterbirth out on her own in a little more time, too.” She stood to face him.
He reached for Clara, biting his lips. Her arguments were sound enough, and did it matter now? He knew that was the point; it was the fear cleaving to him like a shadow. He could banish the fear, would do it with Clara with him, and dismiss his restlessness.
“Take off your shirt,” Caroline demanded.
“What?” he gaped. “I’ve brought clean clothes along, for Dee and Clara. I hope they’ll fit …”
Caroline shook her head judgingly. “No,” she insisted, “hold her skin on skin. Cuddle.” She looked exasperated like she had to explain cuddling to him.
He wasn’t in the mood to let Caroline’s patronizing do anything but amuse him. “I’m glad to cuddle,” he snapped, pulling at and throwing off his shirt and welcoming Clara to his chest.
It was Caroline who sighed and stepped back under his gaze. “I’ll assist Sara with the general,” she said. Still she pointed them to the chair in a corner, then dropped a blanket on him – them.
Shade fixed it over his shoulders as she left but relaxing was slow to arrive. Caroline being out of the room helped. No observers. No assistance, either.
How to hold Clara best? He started with chest to chest, her face over his shoulder. Keep her breathing.
She had to feel his hammering heart in tandem with her own, so tiny yet so fast. His fingers inched over her back, about to find a spot to trace the beat, getting a sense of her shape.
Their cheeks touched as he bent his head. She was so soft, so delicate. He trembled, longing to watch her, shifting her to the cradle of his arms. Her sight re-woke the spell capturing him, her eyes pinning him in place. Outside, the storm had turned to rain, pattering against the windows like hypnosis. Clara was … he hoped to see her, who she was, but of course what was there to find, one hour into her life? Maybe this look would not stay, would change with every day, yet that only made him watch harder, engrave who she was now into his mind. Undeniably, she was herself when he gazed into her eyes, those depths of undefinable colour facing him with this anxious curiosity – the same he felt himself.
“You don’t have to worry,” he told Clara, speaking to her for the first time. “I’ll explain to you what it’s like.” It – living. Dee had talked to her so easily but he dropped random words of intuition to cover his insecurity. Did he know what living was like? With Clara in his arms, he wasn’t sure anymore. But he’d have to be.
Just to do anything, he brushed that little hair she had, so fine and endlessly fascinating in its newness and softness. She squinted as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, as if imitating him or about to sneeze. Instead, she clapped her hand against his chest, fingers splayed like a starfish. Cuddling back. Demanding.
Beneath his skin, he shivered all over his body. It was like something in her expression had changed. No longer confused. Expectant. He could drown in those eyes and was aware he couldn’t. Couldn’t disappoint Clara, even though all children were disappointed by their parents at some point. He could only try his best, and not let Diana down.
He'd have to do anything.
No, he realized, he would do anything.
He felt it with a conviction that pulled him in and out of his dreaming. Clara was here, in his arms, and expected him to keep her alive. She didn’t need to know or understand anything of the world or its people to do so. Instinctively, she reached out to him with that small palm and relied on him to care for her. Because he was here. Because he was her father. And she didn’t have to know this either, because it was enough that he knew.
It was laughable. What an utter, stupid fool he’d been. Diana had been right to doubt him. Deep down, he had considered her Diana’s child, because she had chosen, wanted, loved and grown her and so he came to see them as one, as taking care of Diana was the same as taking care of their baby. Of course he’d known he was her father all this time but he grasped it only now he could touch and see her. Clara was her own person, with her own needs and expectations of him. He was almost ashamed by her weight on his arms and could only hope to dissolve it by keeping to hold her. Weight wasn’t just her body. It was the burden of his duty to her. Had it been simpler for Diana who’d felt her grow day by day?
“Don’t worry,” he said again, “don’t worry. Mama will come back. I’m here. I won’t leave.” Still, he had no idea if those phrases had any impact, any meaning to her. He did what Caroline told him to – cuddle. He sighed with relief when she softened and her eyelids fell shut. She trusted him, and Diana, entirely, without restriction. Needed them. How could they live up to that?
“What have we done?” he whispered, raising his head as if Clara wouldn’t hear if he didn’t look at her. “Diana, what have we done?”
At last, the sight of the room brought him down to earth. A year ago, he wouldn’t have imagined to be in Piedmont, on an occupied army base. He’d just joined the Scarlet Guard and hadn’t dared to hope to secure the wins they’d made lately. They could do it. They’d accomplished more impossible deeds. Though Clara required deeds of a completely different set of skills. So what. He could learn. He’d learned to defeat time and space, after all.
He yearned for Diana. Safe and happy. To confess all this to her, to hug her, tell her how amazing she’d been and how amazing Clara was too. That he loved them. Yet what he could do was wait, and grasp Clara as he did. He allowed himself to fall into the sanctuary of reflections, and taking a breath while the rain drummed around them, until the opening of the door disturbed his rest of mind.
He startled when he saw it was his mom, and she winced along with him, assessing the situation – the baby in his arms. Smiling, she came closer, kneeling before them.
“Nobody told me you’re already here,” she whispered, her hand on Clara’s face. Mom looked up. “Thought it was time to check anyway.”
Shade swallowed. Telling his family had not been on his mind – could he have sent someone though? It must’ve been over one hour by now, certainly.
“Some time ago,” he stated. “Her name is Clara.”
“And alright, yes?”
He nodded. “Yes. She is.” He smiled at Clara.
“And Diana, too?”
He paled, seeing his mother’s worried glances. Dee’s absence was suspicious, yet not that much, or he would not be approachable at all had something happened to her.
Still, he bit his lip, hesitating to explain the reason to his mom. Was it that delicately bloody ordeal he could not relate to, or that his mother never had a skinhealer to look after her when she gave birth?
“She needs some medical attention,” he said simply.
She squeezed his arm in reassurance. “She’s in the best hands,” she confirmed.
Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with gratitude. Mom understood. She listened. She’d help him.
Already, when his attention slipped, she grabbed Clara and he wondered if that left him bereft or lightened. In fact, he realized, he felt pride as his mom beamed down at his baby daughter, cooing Clara, gazing her over and stroking her. “What a sweet darling,” she said. She rose, stepped aside and prompted him to get up as well, wrapped in the blanket.
Mom tilted her head at him. “Doesn’t she look like you?”
He frowned. “I think she’s still womb-faced.”
His mom blinked, needing a few seconds to digest that before she laughed. “Womb-faced! Never heard that before. Every new parent makes their own experiences.” She patted him, somehow not bothered at all to hold Clara with one arm and moved again.
“Mom!” he cried out. Where was she going? He panted, catching her eyes. “Will you hel – show me how to care for her?”
Mom seemed pleased, but also a little stunned, to his embarrassment. “Oh, sure,” she said simply. “If you will come over to us.” He blinked. “Your father will want to see her.”
She didn’t make it a question yet she did wait for his approval to bring Clara away. Finally, he inclined his head. “I have to check on Diana,” he said carefully. He wasn’t sure. He could deal with Clara in his mother’s arms, but if she was out of his sight?
Again, his mother reached for him. “Then do that. I’ll wait at home.” Another smile before she walked out, under his focused watch.
After a minute, he put his shirt on and went to the treatment room, knocking. Listening for a reaction, he thought his mom might’ve liked him to jump them over. But he’d missed the moment. Confused as he was, maybe he would’ve messed it up.
He exhaled in relief when Sara bid him in. She sat as Caroline paced around. “All done,” Caroline said, throwing away her gloves. For a moment, she distracted him from Diana, lying down strangely peaceful. He could barely process her sleeping sight. Absentmindedly, he walked to her and fell on his knees before her.
“My mom took Clara,” he clarified for the medics – and Diana, if she heard – but his attention was all on her, clasping her hand, inspecting her face, her breathing, only slowly collecting himself.
“All is well,” Sara said with her soft voice. “She’s purged and healed, and we cleaned and changed her.” Indeed, her shirt was new, and the blood on her cheek was gone. He almost missed the mark. He’d strive to remember it. “You don’t have to worry,” Sara added. “There’s no risk of infection either.”
Still occupied watching her pulse and breathing, understanding was delayed. “What?”
Caroline brushed his shoulder. He was surprised she hadn't attacked his hair. “You can bring her home now.”
Carefully, he lifted himself onto the bed, hugging Diana. “Bring? Teleporting?” he asked quietly.
“Would that not be convenient?” Sara asked.
It would – if Dee was up to it. She had been so adamantly against it the last months. “It makes her sick,” he objected.
“Even asleep?” Sara laid hands on her and, content with the results, found his gaze. “You should try.”
He met Sara’s eyes. “I’ll have to wait and see.”
“Do that.”
Inhaling, he pulled her closer. Checking her breathing, again, and gathered his focus on his ability so strongly he could envision their bed to make the travel as soft as possible. “Thank you, for everything,” he said at the last moment, searching for Sara’s and Caroline’s smiling faces before he vanished.
With the next exhale, he was on their bed, grasping Dee tightly, glad it went as planned. The top of the bed was dry, indeed. He adjusted their positions until he sat behind Dee, she upright between his legs. Breathing in tandem, they stayed this way for a long time. So much he wanted to tell her. He took her hand, weaving their fingers.
“She is wonderful, Dee,” he said finally. “You did wonderful.” Dee really showed no signs of waking up, nor to be unwell in any way. Maybe she could withstand teleporting if he was delicate enough? Though not always possible in danger, and not an issue for now.
He lifted her fingers and kissed them. Then, after all, he shifted away and laid her down, brushing her face a last time. “I’ll be back, I promise,” he said. “I’ll get our girl.” His throat still clumped just saying those two words. Our girl. He could hardly process how much he felt for her. Nor did Diana, who had been certain of her love all this time. He grinned, finally understanding her. As soon as she woke, she’d want Clara with her. So did he.
After the storm, the rain persisted throughout the afternoon. Having jumped to his family’s house, Shade hadn’t noticed how heavy it still poured when he arrived, nor during his stay. He didn’t want to know how his mother had brought Clara over in the first place. Mom was so eager a teacher like she'd waited her whole life for the chance to give him detailed instructions to look after a baby and correct him in his attempts with knowing glares.
Now he stood in the door, with Clara in his arms, hesitating. No more enjoying the cozy sound of the rain on the roof and windows when about to head outside. Clara was clothed and wrapped in her blanket but was that enough? Should he jump back after all …? Peering at her face, he shuddered at the idea – or from the gale throwing cold raindrops his way, on his bare arms. He clutched her tighter. Although wriggling, she was so calm, soft. How could he expect her to adjust to teleporting when getting used to being born must be difficult enough for her? Didn’t she make a fist – like tensing against the cold? He was lost about what to do, only glad she didn’t have to put up with the humid heat on her first day of life, either.
He startled when a hand grabbed his shoulder, shocking him so much the person behind him chuckled. Shade angled his head and saw … his father?
“Dad! Don’t scare me, I could’ve dropped her.”
His father’s smile grew wider, but also tender. “No,” he said with gravity, “you wouldn’t.”
Shade’s throat closed. He was both pierced and emboldened by Dad’s trust and encouragement of his paternal instincts. Meanwhile, Clara looked up, surprised but secure.
His dad squeezed his shoulder, then let go and placed a jacket over him. “Come, I’ll bring you. I have an umbrella.”
Shade snorted, exasperated at his cluelessness. An umbrella, of course. Though he couldn’t carry one and Clara. He nodded. “Thank you.”
Dad only maintained his amusement, pleased to walk again, and likely by the image of himself towering over Shade once again, even if his gait was uneven with his artificial leg created and attached by the combination of techie expertise and Sara’s healing. It felt wonderful, to Shade as well. His father’s presence hadn’t lessened when he couldn’t walk, and presence was better than death or fighting on the Choke. But right now, he enjoyed his dad’s little support, to literally look up to him when fatherhood was new to him.
“You don’t have to come the whole way,” Shade told him as they crossed the open space between the buildings they lived in. The Command complex was practical for Diana but far away from where the Barrows lived. Shade considered it a decent distance to walk, even in the rain. He supposed Clara might like it on finer, not too hot, days, too. Cal drove Mare around though, to his amusement. He had taken Shade’s prompt for dating time.
“Why wouldn’t I come?” Dad said, earnestly stunned. “We from the Stilts aren’t afraid of a little water. Besides, I hardly got to look at her when Mom and Gisa fussed over her.”
Shade laughed. Although Mom had claimed to show Clara to Dad, she held watch over her, and Gisa hadn’t so much fussed as taking Clara’s measure under Mom’s supervision to find and fix her prepared clothing that Shade now carried with him. Gisa had handed over an armful, to add to the bags he'd retrieved from the infirmary to their lodgings before he jumped over here. More were to follow in the - weeks, months - to come as Clara grew.
The clothing looked so cute on her. Although Gisa had chosen the style, using patterns she had made up or remembered from their own childhood, it made Clara look more like someone in her own clothes. Shade kept adjusting her as he walked, as she moved, to find his own comfortable position, and to not touch and sweat through only the exact same spot of the fabric. This time, the blanket reached up to his face, tickling his nose. He sneezed, then grinned. “I think she starts to have this newborn smell,” he observed to his father; the blanket, of course, smelling like her. No longer like blood and birth, nor freshly bathed. Herself.
Dad clapped his back. “Keep paying attention, they grow so quickly.” His smile hid how he had missed much of his children as babies.
Shade nodded, going along. Finally, they were inside again. “Sure. I want to remember everything,” he said as they reached the right floor. “I also have to tell Diana what she overslept – “
He froze turning into the corridor, finding the colonel striding along.
Shit.
Shade and his father kept pacing forward, and he had his face remain unmoving so it won't become a grimace. He swallowed as they met, close to the door to their room.
It was his father who spoke first. “Nice to meet you, Colonel Farley,” he said, “on this happy day. Shade is already besotted with our darling granddaughter. He takes good care of her.” Somehow, his dad tried it with genuine friendliness. On Shade and the colonel, any attempts at politeness seemed forced.
“She’s healthy and sweet,” Shade added. “Diana named her Clara.”
Emotion flashed over the colonel’s face as he heard his dead wife’s name again. It hit Shade, though he couldn’t describe how. Was Shade vindictive to witness sadness in the colonel? Or glad he showed emotions at all?
The colonel cleared his throat as if to ban feelings again. “How is the general?”
“She is well,” Shade replied. “So happy, but resting now.” It irritated him the colonel called her by her rank again, on this day even. It didn’t feel like respect, often like an act, as if he could not grasp Diana now stood above him. The colonel called her general but wielded it like a weapon. Now it carried the implied question when she’d return to a general’s work. Like their precious daughter she did her all to give birth to remained a nuisance to him.
“We need to get back to her now,” Shade said, and searched for another way to hold Clara to open the door.
The colonel had ample time to ask to see Clara, Shade could hardly refuse right in front of him, could even offer him to take her to help Shade enter. The colonel did nothing of the sort, not until Shade got the door open. “Could the general –”
Shade glared over his shoulder. “I’m afraid I haven’t been clear, sir,” he hissed the last word, “but Diana is asleep. She’s too exhausted to do anything for you.”
The colonel grinded his teeth, but not backing off. He stepped closer, right before the door. “There are documents –”
“Give them to me. In a moment.” What bullshit was this? That he demanded to interrupt Diana’s explicit days to rest! Was he serious, what could’ve happened in one day? Well, a lot, possibly, but Shade didn’t have the mind for it unless the enemy stood right in front of him. Though, what kind of enemy was the question.
“No.” The colonel was rigid. Shade, still on the threshold, turned back to face him. “It’s classified information. Her eyes only.”
Shade blinked, disbelieving. “Well. Then I can’t help you.” Inside, he was furious. Did the colonel trust him too little to pass on a stack of papers? Diana had schooled him about classification when she had promoted him to her staff, that she couldn’t share everything with him and kept secure compartments and codes. He wasn’t like her second in command, her deputy, but a left hand, her best assistant. The other parent.
He had no intent to discuss the details with the colonel. The man maintained eye contact, staring as hard as his daughter. Before he could say something, Shade added, “if I may remind you, General Farley won’t work for the next two weeks. Just two weeks. She might agree to a meeting later, but today she remains unavailable. If it’s not important, you may wait. If it is –”
“Shade –” His father.
“Then it’s not up to her to make decisions at the moment.”
He father clasped his arm. He murmured, “just let him have a look.”
Shade was stunned. Had he missed it, that this was a convoluted attempt to visit Diana? Classified intel, my ass. Couldn’t he get over himself?
He straightened his posture, turning his full attention to the colonel, his glare a menace and his tone full of derision that brushed away formalities. “Now why would you care for that?” he asked. “When you won’t even look at our baby?” He kicked the door open wider behind him and stepped in, letting it bounce back as he walked to Diana on the bed. Whatever his dad and the colonel said then got lost outside.
Just Diana’s sight calmed him immediately. She snored peacefully, content with the accomplishment of giving life to Clara. He sat down and placed Clara beside her. He missed her already, wanted to talk to her yet he wouldn’t even wake her so she and Clara could cuddle, no way he’d do it for the colonel.
He forgot time watching them both and laid down. Set down, Clara stretched and stirred, as if unused she wasn’t carried anymore. Everything was new to her, everything she did for the first time. Soon enough, her eyes fell shut, but when he touched her tiny hand, she didn’t let go.
“Fuck.” He pressed his fist to his brow. The quarrel with the colonel reappeared as awkward and childish. He should behave better now. That was why Diana had the leading position and not him. Even when she got loud, she did it with purpose and knew when to placate. What little power he had, he wielded like a lash when he wanted and his power now was granting access to Diana. The colonel could’ve just entered though he hadn’t done that, deeming that rightfully improper.
A cough asked for his attention and he looked up, seeing his father. He sighed, embarrassed and remorseful. “And? Did you apologize for me like for a child?” On the very day he became a father. Regret rose in him, even as he tasted the spice of telling the colonel his mind.
His father sat down, stroking his arm. “I did say sorry,” he stated, “but I told him you were protective of your family.” He inclined his head and Shade understood the cleverness of the wording. How come he should want to protect his family from other family?
Shade shifted. “Thank you. And I am sorry. For being rude, lashing out. But it’s – argh.”
His father sighed. “You were right, he never asked about Clara.” He breathed out dramatically. “So I talked about her, and he seemed interested enough as he listened.” He gave Shade one last squeeze before he rose. “I also said the day was a lot for you, too.” Shade moved to face him before he left, astounded to see how firm he looked. That was another message: Be better next time.
May 15th, dusk
He wanted to do it better. He made plans. He put Clara in a cot, then brought it over to the living room, away from the bed, to let Dee sleep a little quieter. Then he stood over the cot to check whether Clara adjusted to it, or if she had any need. He sorted clothes and napkins, and finally, dared to leave the room for a trial run of preparing her food bottle.
When he was back, he sat down, just for a moment, beside Diana and grasped her outstretched fingers – next he knew, he woke from slumber to Clara whimpering.
He teleported over before his eyes were open and as a result, he was so dizzy he held on to the cot to catch himself, relieved to stop before he shook it any worse.
Clara’s mood got worse.
He picked her up, patting her back, exasperated as she only got louder. He glanced around, wondering if the sound rattled Dee awake.
After the moment his confusion had cost him to notice the issue, he cackled. “Congrats,” he said, kissing Clara’s flushed brow. “You’ve soiled yourself for the first time.” Clara wasn’t amused but distressed. Obviously. With a new lightness carrying him on, he set to the task. He wouldn’t let himself be bothered by the smell yet the anxiety got him when it came to cleaning her carefully enough and giving her a new diaper that stayed fixed. Mentally, he went through his mom’s instructions, glad for every second of patience Clara granted him until he believed to have it done. Delicately, he hugged her to reward her support and she clung to him in gratitude.
So they were back to cuddle without a sense of time and ecstatic about the most mundane things.
Their victory brought him through the day. Even though he kept dozing off once he sat down (more so when he tried to read the book he’d found in the lodgings, the sequel to a novel he’d devoured in the Stilts after it got into his hands by mere chance), even if he could hardly look at Diana without throbbing with yearning. How could one miss a person so much when they were in direct sight? Yet only the thought of what she missed out roused him to keep going. It had been her decision – she’d receive the spoils of recovering soon enough.
The single distraction was the sunset, the light returning with colour right at its descent. He moved out to the balcony, feeling both the chilliness of the evening after a rainy day and the warmth of sunlight that reached him in patches. Between the trees ahead, the dramatically crimson sky beneath the dark clouds above offered him the first reprieve of the day, captivated by the sight so he noticed only afterwards, turning back inside, that he hadn’t thought about Dee and Clara for a minute.
He chuckled as he slid through the door. “I should’ve shown it to her,” he muttered, undoing the relaxing by coming back to Clara.
“Shade …”
The door slammed shut behind him yet it was the faint voice that alerted him. He still felt the crisp air on his cheeks as he jumped to Dee on the bed, bending over to frame her face with his hands.
“Love, how are you? Better? Tired?” He didn’t know where to start, where to look. Had the rush of air disturbed her or the closing door?
She still blinked herself awake. “Clara,” she said.
“Of course,” he replied and let go to jump to the sleeping Clara. Even as he lifted her with full attention, the touch of Dee’s skin lingered on and tickled his fingers. He didn’t hesitate to do as Diana asked, carrying Clara to her, yet he’d longed for Diana, and the longing awoke with her.
Dee had minimally risen to receive Clara, propped on a back pillow, but she was remained slumped as he placed Clara in the crook of her arm. Dee watched her breathlessly. Then stroked her face with one finger alone, as if to keep her sleeping. Maybe it was enough, for now, to just look –
Dee started to cry.
“Hey,” he cooed, falling to his knees next to the bed. With Dee’s hands full, he reached to wipe her tears, first with his hand, then a hanky he found – had prepared – on the bedside table. “Dee, don’t cry. You can’t cry every time you see her.”
"Thank you," she sobbed. She motioned to hold Clara tighter but it was so little a change, it was a futile attempt. She must still be so weak. “I’m fine,” she claimed, sniffing. “I can’t believe she’s really here.”
He leaned closer to support her arm. “Of course she is.” He grinned, tucking a curl behind her ear. “She was here all the time, with me and my mom. No chance to swap her.”
Her expression switched to utter puzzlement at this absurd idea. That had been his intention. There were no other babies around anyway. “You don’t have to worry we’ll leave her alone,” he said softer. He traced the end of a curl until it rested on her cheek. She leaned into it, calmer, but her distress swam just under the surface. She’d slept so peaceful and content, how did the wariness – right. Sleep. He frowned. “Did you dream something bad?”
Still cupped by his palm, she shook her head. “No matter.” She sighed. “She is real,” she confirmed again.
He exhaled in relief. “I can assure you, she also has a real and functional digestive system. She shat herself and I changed her.”
Her answering smile made his heart soar. “You're awesome! That’s amazing,” she said and started, maybe to touch him in return, but refrained, her arms occupied with Clara. Finally, she managed to lift Clara to kiss her head, whispering “I love you,” before settling her into her lap. After watching her some more, she turned to look at him. “And she’s so big, strong and healthy.” Her proud smirk took him aback after he’d fretted the whole day over keeping Clara who was as frail, helpless and needy as any baby, safe and happy and alive – which Diana had worried over for months. Now she thought her perfectly resilient? A glimmer of tension though, was present in her wobbling lip.
Shade rose, squeezed her arm fast before he let go and jumped to her other side, onto the bed. She blinked at him. It was showing off, in fact, covering the smallest distance with teleporting that demanded utmost precision to land as gently as he wished to.
He cuddled against Diana, supporting Clara’s head and reaching for Dee’s neck. “What did you dream? He asked quietly.
She hesitated, more proof he was on the right track. “It means nothing,” she said. “It’s not real, but she is.” She smiled at Clara again. But he kept staring at Dee and wouldn’t drop the issue.
“It was the birth. It was still in my head, still … going on. But I sat at the desk and I was in pain and had all those life or death tasks to finish.” Her throat bobbed.
“Diana.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he insisted.
“And I didn’t do it!” She sighed. “I didn’t. Wouldn’t. But I can’t help thinking ... the work won’t go away.”
Clearly, she had no mind to concern herself with the colonel or Shade’s clash with him today. He rubbed her arm. “It’ll stay away as long as you need.”
“But what if …” She paled.
“Actual danger?” he guessed. He leaned closer, grasping her chin and found her eyes. “I’d take you away. I already know where. I’ve made plans. First you, then my family. Gone to safety.” He’d stare into her eyes until she was convinced of it. “I won’t leave you,” he promised, as he’d promised so many times before.
Next he knew, they were kissing and he had no idea who’d started. To sate this yearning. Because they kissed hungrily, longing for touch, the two of them seeking the mutual assurance they were in this together and also more than this. Eagerly, Diana hanged on his lips, like reminding herself she was more than the woman who’d just given birth. Right before the kiss, she’d had this look on her face, this awe that was both disbelief and desire. He caused that sometimes, when he vowed to protect her with all means. Hot and dangerous, she called it, and it thrilled him to thrill Dee by becoming a menace to their enemies for her and Clara’s sake.
And although she was invigorated by this passion, she wasn’t responding as strongly as usual, not to his hand that went from her neck to her bare skin on her back under the shirt, not to his embrace with his other arm. No body part below her neck interacted with him and she lay heavy on the bed before she sank aside. Despite her urge to kiss, she remained utterly depleted. Among their stillness, only the sound of panting between them, his fingers kept stroking her skin in circles.
“It was so hard,” she said eventually, her face against his chest so he barely heard her. “I didn’t imagine it was so hard. All of it.” In her shifted position, Clara was between them on the bed.
“No one told you it was easy,” he blurted, unhelpfully. She groaned. In reaction, he pressed his fingertips into her skin. “But it’s over now,” he relented. “You did it. Wonderfully. And Clara is wonderful! You don’t have to do it again, unless you have another.” Immediately, he wished he’d omitted the last sentence but his brain made him auto complete with the obvious exception. As a result, Diana ogled him and he swallowed.
“Yes,” she said quietly. Her hand grabbed his shirt and he tensed, surprised by her touch. “She’s perfect, of course. The best.” Her lids lowered. “But … I would do it all again. To have her. Fight for her. Endure.” She pondered. “But it was still so hard …!” He tried to calm her but she continued. Had to. “I’m so tired, Shade. I'm sorry I leave her to you alone. I wanted her so much and now I can do nothing. I thought I could do it by myself. But there’s no way I could’ve managed alone. I needed you, Caroline, Sara. Your mother.”
Was she crying again? He caressed her. She believed she could do everything by herself and with the birth, he’d believed in her, too, so much that he was clouded by fear when she couldn’t. “That scared you? It’s okay. But I was there. We’re here for you. For her. I was scared, too. Hoped you could do it … on your own, just in case, because we might’ve been left without a skinhealer. When you needed medical intervention, well, I was just glad you could get it. I understand why you chose it, despite the cost. It’s normal to need help giving birth. You felt the pain, still did most of it. And that was most impressive.”
Her fist tightened on his shirt. “I just … I need to say it, Shade. That it was hard. That I don’t regret it. That I’m proud of it.”
“I am proud of you,” he added and angled his head to kiss her brow before he framed her face and sought her gaze. “It was difficult, and great, too. You did something great, Dee. So feel great about it.”
She met his eyes, nodding at last. “That’s … that’s what I mean.” Yet her lids closed and her head dropped back against his chest. “I’m sorry. I'm too drained to feel great.”
“I could get you some food,” he muttered into her hair. She hmphed in reply but didn’t say more, resting in the hug, nesting around Clara. For a moment, Shade maintained it. Until he pulled away. “Seriously, you need to eat.”
She looked up in a way that made her appear too tired for food. Then, “does Clara eat?”
She recovered only to think of Clara? He bit his lip. She might be too exhausted to take care of her but her attention showed her dedication. “Sure. My mom –”
“Does she like it?”
Further worry crossed her face. Oh no. Was this about breastfeeding? She’d considered back and forth forever if she should breastfeed or not and apparently, she remained undecided or even had a guilty conscience. “What did Sara say?”
“Dammed the milk for now. Would take little effort to make it flow again though.”
She looked so lost he tickled her to cheer her up. “Dee, please” he said against her laughter. “You can try again but you’re not fit to wake up for her right now.” He ignored her signs of objection. “She drinks what we give her. I can make it while you sleep.” He righted himself. “And I’ll let you sleep as long as your body craves.”
Her face twitched but she stayed quiet, accepting this offer. “I can’t be grateful enough –”
“I’ll get your food,” he announced and rose from the bed, Dee’s eyes lingering on him. Her lips moved, silently.
“I know,” he said. Somehow, he didn’t want her to thank him so much. He brushed both Dee and Clara before he stepped away, which drew her attention to Clara, too. With relief, he saw this strange and utter joy she had for Clara. Only for her. When Clara twitched and opened her eyes, it woke another wave of amazement that pulled Dee in for good. She needed to meet her gaze, even as her jaw trembled, like a sign of crying to resume?
He grabbed the leftover cookies from her birthday and brought them to the bed. “Eat this in the meantime,” he said and placed a plate with the pistachio cookies with chocolate and kadayif beside her. The distraction lasted only two seconds, but it seemed to have stopped a surge of new tears from cuteness.
Diana took a cookie and nibbled at it, eyes on her baby. “I’m so glad to meet you again,” she said. “Did you miss me? She took Clara’s hand as she spoke. “I missed you.”
Shade should get going, procure the food, but he was transfixed. Dee had already said more to Clara than to some comrades.
“...you were supposed to be born on my birthday and honestly, you are the best present I could imagine,” she said. “But imagine in the long run, if we shared a birthday for the rest of our lives.” She chuckled. Impossible that Clara understood yet Dee didn’t care. “It would be so awkward. Hah ... But do you know who we are? Papa was with you, and Grandma, and I ... We’re with you. Mama was sleeping but I’m right here, okay? So is Papa.” She glanced at him, finishing her cookie, and found him frozen at the door.
He nodded. “Be right back,” he said, and went to the floor’s shared kitchen.
He couldn’t decide what to get. Dee didn’t seem up to leave the bed, so he had to consider that. Should he prepare another bottle for Clara, too? He searched for something to warm up and possible to eat lying down before he settled for sandwiches and a hot caramelized milk. He remembered how Dee had drunk that in winter. Was there mint to add as well, like back then? When he was finally content with the patchwork menu, he returned to their lodgings and found Diana and Clara asleep again.
He fell against the door, laughing at himself soundlessly. Failure! When would he stop feeling it looming over him? At least Diana had devoured all of the cookies. Good. Not the most healthy but she could take her sugar.
He warmed his hands by holding the hot milk mug, drinking it wondering if he should wake her. But he stayed where he was, letting Dee rest, as he took his rest as well, sitting on the floor and starting with the sandwiches.
Clara was the first to stir from hunger, not rousing her mother. He was okay with that, as long as that lasted, and fed Clara. Afterwards, he dropped onto the couch with Clara on his chest, both pleased how well it went so far. Unlike Diana, he didn’t find the words to talk to Clara and remained astounded by the literal waterfall of words she gave Clara. He’d expected her too tired to speak at length, and now thought he should’ve voiced his own deluge of feelings. He almost regretted kissing Diana. Almost. It seemed like a waste of limited time, so ordinary compared to Clara’s first day of life.
But the kiss was a part of Clara’s first day – he'd never forget that kiss, cherish the longing in it, the connection that asked to be thickened. He still felt the ghost of her lips on his which spoke for itself. For a moment, kissing Diana had lifted the gravity of his heart.
He stroked Clara on the back as she was already dozing again. Touch did seem so simple, common and easy, yet it meant so much more. He held on to Clara like it was insurance to keep her alive and happy, and maybe it did. When she couldn't understand words, touch was universal.
He couldn’t help thinking of Clara’s conception. It had been a beautiful night, unforgettable if only because it had left Diana with the scar on her cheek after a battle he’d helped her escape.
Earlier today, she’d smeared blood across the scar when wiping away her tears. The image of birth blood over her scar had engraved itself in Shade’s mind. He’d stitched the wound himself And then ...
Diana had admitted she hadn’t considered protection their first time, had granted herself to let go, stop planning, calculating, thinking ahead. Truthfully, nor had he, too stunned by her invitation to hesitate. He couldn’t have pulled back even if he’d thought of it when she came with the sweetest gasps. The sound was almost more arousing than the real friction, more satisfying than the tensing pulse of her flesh around him.
For too long, he couldn’t unite the joy of the night with the heavy consequence. Conception appeared like an event of chance, not special by itself nor tied with meaning.
Maybe that didn’t matter.
Maybe it was better this way.
He glanced at Clara. The paradox that it could be both, something huge and heavy created by something easy and light. Perhaps he couldn’t believe every conception was magical, but he could see it was magical for them, one moment in amber to treasure, just like he’d started to treasure their daughter.
And he’d started to treasure Clara so much on this day alone. At least, he should’ve told Diana that. She’d said “sorry” or “thanks” - for what? That he took care of his own child when she’d done enough by giving birth?
What had he said? I won’t leave you. I’d take you away. I am proud of you. I’m here for you.
Had Diana understood that to mean her, in the singular you, not meaning her and Clara, as if Shade still felt at loss about Clara? He swallowed. “But I love you,” he whispered to Clara. “I ... I need to tell Mama that.”
Couldn’t Diana see it? Perhaps he shouldn’t ask too much of her, not right now. He did feel lost, in the way of fear about Clara’s future – but that also stemmed from love, the love tickling along his body, only slightly stilled by holding Clara, as he did now, and stayed that way.
The opening door startled him outrageously, even woke Clara, who thus began to cry. Fuck. For a second, Shade suspected it was the colonel who deemed it acceptable to walk in after all and Shade really didn’t have the nerve for it, although having the colonel face Clara’s fussing became him just fair.
Indeed, it was Shade’s mother who laughed at his reaction – and probably tousled looks.
“You misunderstand,” he said. It confused him, how similar this felt to her first visit. “We get along perfectly. She is so nice, and –”
Grinning, his mother came over and patted his cheek. “Remembering my lesson, do you?” Yet she took Clara off him to check her herself. With crossed arms, Shade side-eyed them. He was the one who’d spent the most time with Clara, getting to know each other, why would his mom –
After a minute, Clara was calm and his mom side-eyed him right back. He sighed, rose for the sake of rising, moving and stretching, before he settled in the stuffy chair behind Diana’s desk.
“It’s a lot of work, isn’t it?” His mom said.
He released a breath from deep down. “It’s not just work,” he replied eventually. “It gives me something to do, and it’s a relief to be doing something, you know? Like I manage to take care of Clara when I’m so afraid to fail her.”
He closed his eyes and rubbed them, seeking refuge in the darkness behind his lids. A pitiful rest, only possible because his mother had lifted Clara off him for a moment. She came to help at night, as promised when he was over. He was glad, though didn’t fully see the difference when he’d been alone for hours.
Alone. How could he feel alone, with Dee and Clara with him? Only that they were less with him that he was there for them, at least today, and today dawned a new age.
“I feel so much, Mom. Love, fear, stress, then awe ...” His throat was heavy. “And it all mixes, and grows larger with it. I don’t ... I don’t know where to put all these emotions.” He stared at her, his eyes burning. And Dee likely still wondered if he really cared for their baby.
His mother met his gaze. Calmly. “Dad wasn’t there when you all were born,” she said. “I had my family and friends, of course. But.” She went closer. “They took that from us, too. You can be with your newborn baby, so you should cherish it, as intense as it is.”
In his mother’s arms, Clara was at his eye level. Actually looking at him. Caught by her stare, he overcame the urge to cry. He wanted her, with the whole flood of emotions. “I’m sorry for you – us,” he told his mother. “I should be grateful.”
She shook her head. “Oh, you can complain and be tired, too. You let her rest, too, don’t you?” She tilted her head towards Diana’s bed.
“Yes ...”
“The same goes for you,” she said and walked over, assessing the bed. “Why don’t you go to sleep now?” she proposed. “I have her.”
“I can’t ...” He was up in an instant. “I’m fit.” The angle of his mother’s head said all about her disbelief. “I can’t have you sleep on the couch,” he went on.
“Shade, please. The bed is big enough for three, or four actually.”
He reached the bed, evading his mom’s face and watching Diana first. Again, she appeared at peace but maybe she slept too deeply to toss at nightmares. Aware of his mother’s attention, he kept his eyes fixed on Diana as he sat on the edge of the mattress. “Okay,” he gave in finally. “I’ll lie down, but put Clara next to the couch, she shouldn’t wake Diana.”
He knew his mother rolled her eyes behind his back, too adult to show him. “Surely you know best,” she said ironically. “Allow me one advice: take sleep when you can get it.” Her face was full of satisfaction when he sighed in agreement. “’ll talk to Diana, too,” she added quietly.
Shade stopped in the middle of pulling off his shirt. “What?” he asked. “About what?”
Patting his arm, she smiled mysteriously. “Lots of things.”
He finished removing the shirt. “She isn’t talkative at the moment.”
His mom shrugged. “Does she ... give you a hard time?”
He considered. “She thinks everything is her job. Like it’s a ... present I look after Clara.” He swallowed. “It’s my fault, too. I confessed I was overwhelmed.” He met her eyes. “And ... we’ll figure that out,” he claimed. “But now there’s also her new job, and so I need to help her, and she’ll get it.”
His mom kept rocking Clara. Would she understand? Diana didn’t pick Clara – being with Clara – over everything. But Mom hadn’t had the opportunities Diana had. “You want this for her,” she replied, “and look after Clara in her stead? Or will you expect me to be always ready for you?”
He blinked. “What? No! I ... I’m glad you help us, I mean, thank you. Don’t you want to?” She let him sizzle. “Clara is a day old, I don’t know how it’ll be once Diana helps along.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “But this one day was enough to change me.”
He twitched when his mother sat down next to him. “I’m certain Diana will understand soon that you love her too.” She smirked. “It’s obvious.”
Indeed, with the baby in vicinity, already he reached to caress her head, only hesitating not to disturb her until he was sure his touch was soft enough.
“Go to sleep now,” his mom reminded him. “As promised, I’ll talk to her.”
Shade nodded, gazing after his mother and Clara moving to the living room. He heard her murmur to Clara, admiring Gisa's clothes that fit Clara so well. He laid down, carefully grasping the blanket and finding Diana’s face in the low light. He was stiff and tense beside her, not daring to hug her yet wanting nothing else more. He couldn’t, not when she was down too deep to notice and agree. If her hand had been outstretched, he could take it but as it wasn’t, he was close but not enough until yearning and exhaustion drew him into sleep without notice.
It didn’t last long, though. The first time Clara cried out with demands, he jumped up, teleporting over to his mom’s surprise. Already, she had it under control. He envied her fast, competent expertise although he enjoyed figuring Clara out.
His mom let him assist and hold Clara until she slept before he placed her in the cot. “Come,” she said. “Back to bed.” She wanted to lie down as well. He didn’t follow her to the bed, his gaze on Clara.
“I’ll stay,” he objected. His mom was stupefied but let him sit on the couch. Maybe she thought he’d return next time. And there were other times that Diana all slept through. Good. He did not, nor did his mother oversleep her crying. Throughout the night, they found a rhythm with Shade remaining on the couch beside Clara’s cot, falling into slumber and out of it until the twilight of morning entered the room.
Wiping dust from his eyes, Shade looked at the clock and was shocked it was the same time Dee had gone into labour twenty-four hours before. His whole first day as a father had passed. Or it felt like it, as if his duty to Clara finally became real to him when Dee was in pain and needed him, their baby’s arrival close by.
What a day it had been, unlike any other. He'd always remember its magic, the waves of change and emotions covering him. He stretched a finger toward Clara and was astounded to find her eyes open, curious. He halted, expecting her to cry. But she only grabbed his smallest fingers before he tickled her, and then she closed her eyes again, out once more.
He smiled. He wouldn’t pull back until she let go.
She demanded so much attention, made him learn so much he wished to share with Diana and see her make her own experiences. He hadn’t even asked her why she’d picked Clara as a name, one of many questions on hold. He knew she burned with curiosity about the boy name he’d been to choose. Not wholly a boy name though, he wanted one that worked relatively gender neutral. He’d pondered about it a lot, intending to fill it with meaning. Not just a name that he liked, or went along smoothly with the family name Farley-Barrow, but relating to them.
One day, as spring had been returning, Diana and Shade were out to recover goods. Even armed and alerted, keeping watch beside her, he gazed in awe at Diana among the reviving green buds and leaves and remembered a legend he’d discovered in Roman Eagrie’s books in Corvium. The tale was accompanied by the picture of a sculpture and told of Diana, chaste goddess of the hunt, wild woods, moon and birth.
And was Diana Farley not a huntress, and the goddess not as multi-layered as Diana was?
She’d caught him in a snare, unintentionally, although it rather turned into a lifeline than a trap for him, a connection he would not let fray but grasped, chasing the huntress in return.
Hunt and chase. The son of the huntress. Chase.
He liked the shortness of it, its meaning a secret to unfold but deeply true between the two of them.
He’d never told Diana about the goddess, as he had yet to share the name with Diana. One day he would. Yet he couldn’t let go of the idea of meeting a baby before naming them, telling Diana when they held a new baby. Had he already missed the chance?
Chase went along pleasingly with Clara, though. A similar name, starting with the same letter, yet with its own distinct sound.
He had no other if there would be another child, if he wanted one, or if they'd even have the chance. Life appeared too uncertain to intent such an endeavour again, although in his heart, Clara had become as certain as an anchor. Now he had to give certainty to her as the world challenged them.
A/N 2: I really wanted to do this 24 hour thing, including the boy name drop, even if that meant this length. Yet there's still more to come (along with the other fic for Shade's birthday). Farley's birthday still waits *wink wink*
I've reread my old fic "The Candle Flame" for reference (spoiler: where Fade have a candle light dinner and Farley tells Shade she might be pregnant) and I was a little shocked how fast Shade says he'll love their child in part two - because in my current Fade fics, I'm writing this as a process.
I know why I wrote it like that back then though - as I didn't dare yet to indulge in Imagine Shade was still alive scenarios, I wanted to give Farley something she can tell Clara about how her father feels about her Q_Q
Red Queen Fan Fiction - The Flowers of Piedmont Interlude
A/N 1: Thank you for your patience! I hope the wait was worth it but stay tuned for more to come. Including this chapter, I still have two notebooks full of drafted content, which will be about ... 80 pages in typing. Shit ^^°
Part 1
Interlude
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
6153 words
Interlude – May 5th
In the zenith of this noon, Shade lost his sense of time and place. Untypical for him, since how he broke through places with his ability meant having a firm grip of it mentally. Now he let go, sinking into the rays of sunshine and the green fragrances a soft breeze carried over until he forgot he was on a military base in Piedmont but was brought back to the Stilts with its buzzing insects, fooling around with his sister.
Because that was what they did.
As Shade leaned out of the garage, he saw Mare soaking up the sun. Doing absolutely nothing else but enjoying the noon. It was, after all, what had been impossible while she was a prisoner. She still showed the remains of the time, of course. She was thinner, her hair shorter, her skin a lighter brown than his, like the cold of winter and silent stone clung to her.
Now she tried to change that.
It had been three years since Shade and Mare last spent a late spring together before Shade had been drafted into the army, when the heat and the bloom had lifted their spirits until they laughed themselves silly and started daring endeavours. Three harrowing years that had pricked them apart until they emerged reassembled, newborn as newbloods. Yet parts of them, along with this moment of joy, spring and beauty, remained the same and always would be.
Regardless of time and place and past.
“Mare,” Shade called her, as she turned with a smile – soon shifting into a smirk. He cocked his head. “Come in.”
She shrugged, annoyed but following. He clasped his clipboard. “I’m done listing the vehicles,” he explained. “Now someone needs to test them.”
“Yeah?”
Shade gave her a loaded look. “The perfect job for Cal and you,” he said. “You can charge them, and he drives and checks for maintenance issues. I’d”, he readied his pen, “propose you start tomorrow at 0900?”
Mare raised her eyebrows. “Do we get a say for when you schedule our date?”
“Let’s call it an opportunity,” he said in a toneless, calm voice. Clicking his pen.
“For a date,” Mare replied equally neutral – and grinning.
He was fighting his own grin. “What you use it for,” he continued, “I leave up to you.”
Mare was staring at him, and heat reached his face. “Did you need ‘opportunities’ for dates?”
The heat in his cheeks must be blooming into a deep flush. “I thought you might like to be discreet,” he said quietly. Mare’s gaze didn’t waver. He swallowed, half turning away. “If you can’t guess,” he added, “of course I had to be discreet while I was a soldier at Corvium. Nobody could know I was meeting Scarlet Guard rebels.”
While Diana hadn’t known he wanted to meet her, specifically.
“Meeting rebels, for sure,” Mare repeated, reading his mind.
“You have no idea,” he replied. He left the garage, peering back at Mare. “I’m planning with you and Cal, you understand?” he said.
“Is that an order?”
“An assignment. No filling complaints yet.”
Mare sighed but nodded in acceptance. He was certain she didn’t mind the task at all, looking forward to it exactly like he anticipated. She just enjoyed the bickering. So did he. They walked to another building to be inspected, a job he’d taken over from Diana. With Mare in his back, he could practically feel the curiosity boiling in her, eager for every piece of information on him and Diana. She’d missed the major developments, after all. But how to tell her of his intimate thoughts? What would she even want to know? Could she imagine the ecstasy of kissing the inside of Diana’s arms? Though maybe she did. Once, they’d exchanged their pinings, worries and longings for crushes on boys and girls they fell for. Sometimes the same person. But three years were a long time. He never figured out if Diana Farley was one they were both drawn and attracted to.
He'd confided in Kilorn a few months ago, when the secrecy lost its appeal and he needed reassurance. Whether Kilorn gave that or got him in trouble, he still wasn’t certain.
He’d thought to be used to it by now, after all this time of explaining to shocked people Diana and he were expecting a child. It was nonetheless strange when that person was Mare.
They were so surprised to learn of how their relationship had proceeded because it seemed so quick and sudden to them. Except it hadn’t felt sudden to Shade at all. While Diana had conceived on the first time – not that either of them would ever tell anyone that – for a long time he’d had no clue if she would be interested in him. For months, he was swimming in a chase between flirting and holding his tongue and being daringly open with Diana until she was the one to make the next move that swept him off his feet, as she was the true huntress of the two of them after all.
“You’ve ruined me, Shade Barrow,” she’d whispered to him one day, pressing him against a wall. “Before you, I wouldn’t have batted an eye to do it all by myself.” Her stare was like the ocean. Enveloping him. Drowning him. “And now …”
I need you. She didn’t have to finish. He knew the desperate passion driving them together. He’d never choose to leave her.
“How do you even have the time to order people around?” Mare muttered.
He cackled. “Farley is general now and a mastermind of time management. I’m her lieutenant and the Guard has expectations of us.”
“Lieutenant Barrow.” She eyed him warily.
He sucked in a breath, pretending to be shocked. “No trust and loyalty even from my own sister?” Though part of the pierce was real. He already received glares that Diana had promoted her boyfriend once she became general. Including from the colonel, of course. Diana had glared right back. “Command is aware of Shade’s accomplishments and okayed his promotion,” she’d defended him gleefully. “Since, as a part of Command, I’m in constant contact with them now.”
In fact, she needed people she closely and fully trusted on her new team, and he was closest, ready for the everyday tasks she needed help with. She wasn’t sick, but did hard work in several ways and he assisted her. Like right now. Diana didn’t feel able to walk over the whole compound in the heat to inspect it.
He wanted to add on, repeat the same to Mare, but he found his mouth shut at the expression of pain on her face. The injuries she didn’t talk about. The façade she put on. There was understanding they didn’t dare to voice that tickled on their lips. His mind spun around again. “Farley needs a helping hand,” he said quietly. “Like with this.” He waved his arm and Mare bit her lip and paced ahead. They walked on, with unease, as Shade listed off the next buildings and noticed how Mare’s limbs twitched, her ponytail swinging deceptively playfully.
Shade wished to relieve her yet suspected the twitches were only one form of her scars, shaped by want, anxiety – or charge. It became the more apparent when the first sparks prickled on his skin.
He startled, sucked in a breath but walked on, watching Mare from the side. Was that so unlikely, so odd? Her ability had been locked in for months, and she should enjoy the release, play with it. Actually, it relieved him. After Mare had flinched when he’d hugged her on the plane here, he hesitated to touch her, gave her space. But if the sparks, along with their banter, was her offer of connection he would follow gladly.
“You’ve seen the others, like you?” he asked. “Electricons, they’re called. Ella, Tyton and Rafe.”
She snorted. “One could not not notice them. Not her.” A flash of respect ran over her face.
Shade nodded. “It was great to train with Arezzo before the operation. A teleporter from Montfort,” he added.
To meet another newblood like him was so fascinating; at first, he hadn’t known where to start. So instead of exchanging words, they’d jumped. Showing off, challenging each other, rejoicing in their power. Quickly, they’d recognized the same tricks they used, as well as where they differed. Arezzo had been impressed Shade could immediately change direction as he landed, end up in a different position than he’d jumped in, or arrive standing still.
Arezzo couldn’t – her teleporting was like an actual jump, a movement she had to follow through.
Envious, she also understood the edge this gave him, not for the joking around he performed for her with landing in a lying position, but a prime advantage in fighting. Correctly, she guessed he had used this for fighting – killing – already.
He himself was no less stunned and jealous when Arezzo explained she could anticipate where she’d end up.
“I can jump to some people I know too, like, sense them,” he shared.
Arezzo nodded. “Like that, but it’s stronger for me. As if I can foresee, or my mind travels before my body does.”
They’d wondered if that was the reason for their differences, that Shade’s jumping was more physical and Arezzo’s more mental. It sounded like she could foresee danger and react to it. A few times, her jumping hadn’t worked, and on another occasion, she’d swerved next to where she’d planned to arrive where an enemy had struck.
As they shared their experiences, trying to teach each other remained difficult when these skills felt so innate and instinctive: They had been alone, the only ones of their kind when they discovered their ability and so had learned everything by themselves.
What could they accomplish now that that they were together? Or could their individual tricks never be passed on?
Nevertheless, the time to explore was limited, as Premier Davidson had ordered them to test out soldier transportation, not specific feats. Could they move more people together or apart, and how would numbers affect the covered distance? The almost mathematical trials took up most of the training and Shade was glad Ada did the calculating as finding the limits of jumping soon required his entire focus. Like at the Notch, Ada excelled at recording diverse newblood strengths and statistics. It triggered her curiosity, her craving to learn, learn more about people like herself.
Shade hoped Mare would find equal excitement with the electricons but what he met was a frown.
“A teleporter,” she said, “from Montfort?”
“Several, actually, but I only worked with Arezzo.” He wondered about the tricks of the others, and when he’d have the chance to spar with them, with the little time he had. The baby was due soon and if he was lucky, he figured out Arezzo’s foresight tricks for when Diana returned to battle. She’d confessed Command expected her to take part in the next large battle although it was anything but certain she’d be fit in time.
Arezzo kept him in the dark about the other teleporters, in her teasing manner. He could still smile in memory of their conversations. Maybe that was something to lighten Mare’s somber expression. “You don’t have it from me,” he began, “but Ella and Tyton are secretly dating. Everyone knows but they all pretend otherwise.” That could make for a fun next encounter for Mare with the electricons.
“Why tell me if you want me to be hush-hush about them?” Shade had asked Arezzo after she’d revealed the news.
She cuffed him. “So you can pretend it’s the secret they believe it to be.”
He’d cackled. “I can relate.”
Arezzo’s eyes widened. “…you do? But … you and your wife …?”
He’d tensed. “You saw us together? She’s not my wife. She’s my boss.”
He’d let Arezzo blink wildly in confusion until he showed mercy. “And my girlfriend.” While Arezzo kept staring, he had gone on. “You have to know, Farley is a big number in the Scarlet Guard. I’m more on parental leave than she is yet.” He’d paused, his amusement sobering. “We’re in right now for my sister.”
Thinking back and seeing his sister now right beside him lifted his spirits. Even if she looked glum. Even if she didn’t care about newblood gossip.
Her mind was on her ever-growing sparks. First flimsy like petals in the wind, soon she switched to rope lightning into a chain twisting between her hands – and around her hands. The sparks circled her wrists like bracelets in their light and power, outshining the scars left by silent stone manacles.
Mare stopped pacing. The lightning, too big to casually walk beneath, arched over her head, and Shade was too awed to do anything but watch, dropping his clipboard and pen. How powerful she was – how dangerous. Just a flick of her hand and she could turn it into a deadly lash, yet he knew she’d only ever lash out at him with her words.
With its purple twists, odds and ends, the lightning arc resembled a wreath of flowers, sharing the shades, beauty and frailty of the lilacs and wisterias around them. Even if it was frailty on an entirely different kind, and its smell not sweet but burning.
“Don’t … set the plants aflame,” Shade said helplessly.
Not in the mood for jokes or reprimands, that rather incited Mare. Enraged her. Because it was rage that fuelled this.
“She called forth a storm,” Mare said evenly, not exactly quiet yet it felt that way among the buzz. A large bolt jumped from her hand, up to the sky. Her head jerked in a similar motion. “Ella. That’s her secret!”
She sent a bolt off in another try as the charge in her other hand grew. It made the hairs on Shade’s skin rise. Blood pulsed through his head and his ears rang. It was like the weather had already shifted around them, darkening the noon brightness. Next to the lightning, everything seemed dimmer. And that smell … he didn’t dare to classify it, sense a coming storm.
Mare was causing a change in the air with her trembling soul while her face was eerily blank in concentration. Would she really keep going? Try to create a storm? Shade took a step closer and was hit by the increased buzz. He grinded his teeth. Mare showed off, and he understood that, but … was she ready? Did she free and test her skills or would she deplete herself, perish as she stretched her barely recovered strength?
Another step ahead.
Mare’s ponytail, that had swung so cute and flimsy against her shoulders, spread into single hairs standing up like a halo, the grey ends lit ghoulishly white.
With the next step, a charge grazed his arm. He cussed, squinting. When Mare was this loaded, she was dangerous to approach. There had been moments at the Notch, too, in training, battle or in turmoil, when the same had happened, Mare too charged by lightning and emotion to be touched until she found grounding – or release. Back then, that meant death to an enemy.
She wouldn’t encounter the one she craved to fight here, to Shade’s relief. He had to give her grounding instead, and the earth wasn’t enough.
He couldn’t let considerations hold him back. He had to go past her lightning, on the confidence he wouldn’t get hit.
How Diana and Mare and his mom would curse him if he did. But there was no way to avoid every risk to get hurt if Mare already was in pain.
The air crackled.
He breathed out. In. Out.
And teleported in front of her.
That jump startled her so much her arm swung and a bolt went off into the meadows. Shade didn’t look if it set a tree ablaze. He didn’t care.
In the eye of the storm and the crackling noise of thunder, he reached for her cheek. “Stop,” he said.
She titled her head in refusal.
On his hand, off her skin, the lightning tickled. Warmly, not painfully. He faced her, with a soft gaze but no less determined.
“You’re exhausting yourself,” he insisted, “to defeat no one. To hit no one but me.”
He swallowed as he held eye contact. It felt so odd to look down at her. It shocked and ashamed him. Had he already forgotten her height, grown so used to spend most of his time with a woman his own height?
Her return in frailty was hard to stomach, yet maybe it was harder to see she was still herself. The sister he’d known his whole life.
“You left me to rot!” Mare exploded with the release of several bolts. “Several teleporters? Officer ranks? Generals? What did you use all that power and influence for?”
“I did come for you,” he said as he flinched at her words. Finally, she was back to lash out with words. A buzz remained but now Mare shook without a storm. He grabbed her arm to support her, despite her reluctance to touch.
She didn’t push him away yet still glared at him as the residues of lighting dissipated. “Really?” she snapped under heavy breathing.
“I stood before your door when you were at the Choke,” he said in a low voice. He paused to let the meaning gain ground.
He cleared his throat. “I couldn’t get through the silence. It was like the one wall I can’t cross, like it would’ve destroyed me before –
He stopped before he laid it on too thick. “I tried, Mare,” he swore. “I should’ve tried again.”
Mare leaned into his hand as she let that sink in, into the abyss between them, so long lasted the moment she stared up at him.
He startled when she moved again, to mirror him with a brush of his cheek.
“I’m glad you’re alive,” she said. “That you didn’t die for nothing.”
“But,” he protested. He didn’t deserve it, to be let off so easily. She didn’t know, how he couldn’t risk his life to leave Diana alone and never meet his child.
His fingers on her arm tensed and as if on cue, she stepped back. “Sorry!” he said and lifted his hands. “I shouldn’t have touched you without asking.”
“No, it’s okay,” she replied. “It’s okay. Please, touch me.” Fear and yearning showed on her face. “Just not on the wrists.” He nodded, relieved by the instruction.
Mare tucked stray hairs behind her ears as if to scatter the heaviness.
It remained in his heart.
“I was to come for you at the wedding,” he told her. “We kept making plans, considered the manacles and your guards. I was supposed to find the right moment to bring Cal to you and off the silencers so Cal could use his mechanical skills to free you from the fetters.”
She froze and stared at her wrists, stunned and, to Shade’s elation, with a flicker of joy at the image of Cal saving her with his tool box.
Her hand dropped. “Well,” she began, turning to him. “You didn’t know Evangeline Samos would help me.” He shook his head and she didn’t let him apologize again. “They made a terrible mistake,” she said, the determination of victory blazing in her eyes.
“One to exploit,” he agreed, although Mare hadn’t specified which. Maybe it was a pile of too many. Maven’s crown was forged by too much betrayal and lies to endure.
He motioned toward her yet instead of continuing to talk, she started to pace, as if to go on with the assessment. Shade wasn’t sure he was in the right mood for it, although it felt good to move, easing the tension of bodies if not souls.
And he could see that indeed nothing had caught fire.
“I am sorry, you know,” Mare said eventually, leaving him too aghast to react at first. “I’m still getting used to it again. The lightning.”
“Ah.”
“I didn’t mean to attack you!” she insisted. “But I have to use it. Sometimes … I need a lightning bolt to raise me from that grave.” She paused. “And I had to say it,” she added, finding his eyes.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” he said. “You have every right to be upset and complain.”
At you? She only mouthed with a glance. Aloud, she said, “I really made a scene and let it out on you.” Embarrassed, she bit her lip although it was unbearable she was the one embarrassed. Hadn’t his light-hearted gossiping provoked her? He grasped her arm, glad he found her encouragement. “We owe you enough to endure a few scenes,” he said.
She snorted, and spun around to tap on his chest. Spreading her fingertips. The touch felt like a buzz although it held no charge. She had that much control. It was the mere easiness, her simple presence, that rattled him. Could she be lofty again so quickly? The rift unnerved him.
What unnerved Mare, though, was his seriousness. “Oh, I can think of a few scenes,” she said. “Reap the favours while I can.” Her fingers drummed on him. “I meant it, Shade,” she said. “I rather suffered a few months more in captivity than see you butchered in front of me.”
As if that didn’t increase his guilt. “Those first weeks,” he said gravely, “we could do absolutely nothing for you. We knew nothing about what happened to you, though we could guess torture and execution loomed.” He paused and his trembling hand squeezed her arm. “Tortured you were.”
Her gaze was impatient, almost reproachful. “I think I linger enough on it,” she said. “Do you have to remind me too?”
But he also lingered on it.
She exhaled loudly. “Isn’t it enough?” she said with emphasis. “I’ve seen Nanny killed. It settled … a lot for me.” She also noted how it wasn’t settled for Shade and he prolonged it for too long for her to let go. “Why do you insist so much? What bothers you so …? She sucked in a breath, eyes widening. “Because you would’ve come for her?”
He hadn’t been about to say it yet wanted her to know it all the same. His shame. He lowered his head, looking away. “For our baby,” he confessed.
He hadn’t considered the threat before failing to save Mare. Always in contact with Diana, whether by message or close enough to touch, he hadn’t imagined her in Mare’s place. There’d been little reason to then – or now – yet the fear began to bloom in him when he saw Diana smile, work or grow serious. Like Mare, he knew she could defend herself on her own, without cause to risk everything to protect her, but she wasn’t on her own anymore. With the advancing pregnancy, she didn’t have her whole strength at hand, and she needed every advantage, trick and trap to meet the silvers eye to eye. Furthermore, it was another horror how a helpless baby could be used against a prisoner.
He couldn’t help it. Unless he embraced Diana, sometimes even then, he thought that “I’ll never leave you” included to barge in and save her should she be taken.
In front of him, Mare was rigidly tense. Her fingers still stretched but now it seemed like she fought not to make fists. “Don’t,” she said.
“Mare,” he said. “We still made plans. Diana never gave up on you, insisted to Command to retrieve you. I would’ve come for you –”
“Stop,” she snapped. He flinched. Releasing a breath, she went on, “I understand all that. All of you. I already said so.” She paused. “Including your situation. Farley’s.” For a second, her voice softened. “But do not push your bad conscience on me.” Her tone became regal and dominant, as she took the lead like a queen. “I can’t, Shade, I can’t forgive your thoughts for you.”
He owed her much more for seeing his mind. “I know,” he agreed quietly. “Sorry, again.”
In a flash, the queen was gone and his sister returned. “It didn’t happen,” she said. “No one took Farley. You both wouldn’t let it. And you can’t know what you would’ve done. Not really. And that’s a relief! You didn’t have to make that choice.” Lightly, she buffed his arm. “Maybe Farley wouldn’t have wanted to see you slaughtered on front of her either.”
New air rushed into him. “Thank you,” he said. “Thanks, Mare.”
She frowned at him. “I hope that was enough of me pushing you up.” She walked ahead, leaving him behind.
He hesitated to follow. She was right, he was asking too much.
His fears had also been indulgences. To wallow in his guilt, yet imagining himself a saviour, too. But he was aware what those nightmarish fantasies offered him that he revived them again and again, the rage when he thought of him, Diana and the baby separated, or the joy of freeing them. If just the idea of it made him feel so much, maybe he wasn’t failing as a father.
He found Mare moving into a porch hidden between the backs of several buildings. It was overgrown with wisteria and he passed through the smell of lilacs as he went after Mare into the pollen-covered porch.
She sat in a lounging chair, knees up with her chin resting on them. She watched him enter before closing her eyes. Only for a moment, then she looked up, to the flowers at the ceiling as if the sight was prettier than the pictures in her head.
And wasn’t it pretty? Typical of Mare to discover so peaceful a spot. She had an eye for treasure.
Once more he felt called back to the Stilts, to exploring hidden corners and old buildings together with Mare and Kilorn as kids. Dilapidated and forgotten as it was, the porch had nothing in common with the luxurious suite he shared with Diana, and which had become a joke between them. Settling into another chair, he buried his face in his palms. The absurd, unfitting suite reminded him how temporary their stay here was, one place among many to escape to. This porch, cradled by birdsong and the winds in the trees, sang a melody that called you home.
Could Mare hear it too?
When he looked up at her again, he blinked. No longer crouching, Mare sat with her legs stretched and crossed in the straight posture of a queen. With her in sight, the porch was no longer unkempt with spiders at the ceiling and dead leaves on the floor but a salon for waiting petitioners. The regalness came naturally to Mare, and he wondered if that was how she’d managed to survive twice as a hostage of silvers. He supposed he could play the role as well if he tried, like when he’d befriended Roman Eagrie, but Diana could never pass the way Mare did. Her authority was blunt, unrefined, practical that could maybe fool common silvers if Diana wore thick makeup to hide her rosiness. She didn’t pick up the demeanour of the nobles the way Mare did.
Many reds thought silvers were remote and haughty like gods of legend but real silver nobles that Shade had met belied that impression. They competed for power with visible resentment, so secure in their might they dared to reveal their vulnerabilities. Even silvers complaining how they could not show weakness proved exactly that.
This icy shell his sister called forth, in stress or anxiety or, like now, without noticing, reflected that. You wore armour because you needed protection.
What did Mare protect herself from?
“Are you back, Mare?” he asked. “Here, or … in the ‘grave’?”
She inclined her head. “I was a living sacrifice. Sometimes I don’t know how I’m still alive.” She sighed. “I’ll always be alone with the memories.” He wanted to reassure her but she continued. “I’m living the impossible, aren’t I? When you all are with me.”
“Well, I’m not leaving you again, just like –”
Just like he wouldn’t leave Diana. He chewed his lip. During these last months, as he’d made plans and promises to Diana, Mare was in that cage. “Aren’t you angry?” he said quietly, “that all our lives went on, without you? Especially … mine.”
She grunted. “I wouldn’t say angry … about that.”
He fixed her. “But we … we had to go on, even if you were left for dead.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t dead.”
“You call it a grave …”
She shook her head. “The grave is in me. The memories. But in them, I was so, so alive. So much it hurt! Because I was in literal pain, and also because I was powerless to change anything. Yet live I did; felt, thought, fought, schemed and dreamed.” She blinked. “I still had dreams, and longings. Even if they increased the ache.” Her gaze drifted off far away and he couldn’t let her fall into herself again.
She caught herself before he had to. “That’s why I need the lightning. With it, I know I’m no longer there.”
“It seemed like you forgot yourself though. When you called the storm.”
“I …” she pondered. “Yes. Maybe. There’re different forms of power and nothingness. Some appeal helpful, for a moment.”
“Can I be a helpful moment for you? Or Cal?” he asked.
She gasped, as if that was unlikely. For reasons – hadn’t she built up him today?
Finally, she breathed out again, her mouth forming a smile. “Shall I let you know how the date with Cal went?”
“Assignment,” he was quick enough to correct.
Mare was exasperated. “Sure, lieutenant, I will report everything about the assignment to you. Sir.” She stared him down and he laughed. He hoped she could be as funny – and open-hearted – with Cal.
She giggled with him. “You’ve learned to shock me, too.” She waved her fingers playfully. “With your baby.” She cackled. “I still can’t fully grasp it. I completely missed you were together, had no clue how you’re like together, if you were in love, and now, boom! The dream couple settling down.”
“You thought we were just having fun with no words exchanged?” The idea was laughable. Diana would have never so much as embraced him without all the words they’d shared before.
“Like I said, I have no clue how you got here and at this point I’m too afraid to ask. Although,” the look she gave him featured a certain edge, “I keep wondering, does Farley nag at you for getting her pregnant?”
He sucked in a breath, flushing starkly. No reason to tell her they’d both embraced the blame for missing out on birth control (for one night). He endured Mare watching him squirm. “No, you don’t get it – she’s elated about the baby.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I think I do. Farley would never give up and step back when it’s important.”
It – well, she had it right. But also not. Diana didn’t compromise about the baby but Mare had little concept about how much Diana compromised and bargained about everything with the Guard. Nothing was simple about it. The plans they made, the assurances, performances they had to keep up, the pecking of the colonel, the uncertainty about how it would really be like – and not least Diana’s fears the baby might not even live.
And yet, Diana had reacted like the unplanned pregnancy was the best thing that had ever happened to her and he doubted Mare could relate to that.
“It’s so hard, you know. And it hasn’t even started for real.” The last days of pregnancy carried a special kind of anxiety, and he began to understand Diana’s paranoia.
Mare came to him and squeezed his shoulder. “And what about you?”
He straightened. “No, I – I can’t cry my heart out to you. I mean, I already did. I won’t bother you further.”
Her gaze grew heavy. “I care about how you feel. What do you want?”
He met her eyes. “That they’re healthy. That I can keep them safe. And let Farley be happy.”
She frowned. “Isn’t she happy?” He thought to explain Diana’s fears but Mare went on. “I saw the way she smiled when I met her again. And let me tell you, it shocked me more than learning she’d pregnant.”
He was at loss for words. More surprised than by their baby?
Mare patted his chest. “She smiled for you.”
No. Diana smiled for their baby. And yes, maybe also because she loved him, but more because she was glad about the victory that day.
He would not forget it. He and Diana had happiness in their grasp. He wouldn’t let anything take it away.
“Will you marry her?” Mare asked out of nothing, and he froze from astonishment.
“What – no! Have you spent too much time among the silvers?”
Mare straightened as if to attack. “EXCUSE ME?!”
For a second, his heart stopped from his own words. “I’m sorry, so sorry, please forgive me –”
She reached up and grasped his chin roughly. “I hope you understand how much you owe me for that.”
He suffered through her glare until he dared to nod and breathed again. She pulled back, anger giving way to confusion. “Why not?”
He cleared his throat until he coughed, and assessed her face for several seconds to find it returned to truce before he dared to explain. He sighed, glancing away. “I wouldn’t dare … to imply … we have to, I don’t know, rectify our child somehow. Like silvers do with their marriage alliances and love kept in the shadows.” He faced Mare. “There’re other ways to show the depth of my dedication.”
Mare’s jaw dropped. “Depth,” she repeated, aghast, and then burst out laughing. “Depth! Seriously, I don’t wish to know –”
His cheeks were on fire. “Truth! I meant truth!”
“Don’t tell me what you meant, please.”
He panted until the heat dissipated. It was like she wanted to assume a filthy undertone between his words to tease him. He, in turn, became more serious. “We have to meet no expectations but our own,” he said.
Mare brushed his arm. “To have such strong opinions, did you talk about it?”
He shrugged. “We talk a lot. About so much. It’s hard but also … freeing to be open. To have a partner you can share anything with.” Mare inclined her head, digesting that.
“There are promises between us,” he elaborated. “No one cares if our baby is born in wedlock. They’re heir to nothing.”
Mare tilted her head. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Farley is a general, so they’ll be like Scarlet Guard royalty."
He shuddered. “Don’t tell her that.”
“Why not?” She grinned, as if she was genuinely tempted to find out her reaction.
Straightening his posture, he coughed for emphasis. “Because we don’t want to be like royalty. No Command, no newblood, nor our child. Royalty is what we stand against.” He relaxed slightly, leaving statement mode. “I don’t want them to be a symbol. I want them to be just a baby. And happy, and safe.”
Mare crossed her arms. “You’ll keep fighting.” It had something of a question.
“Farley will. Now she fights for them.”
“And you?”
That was the question. He could do so much as a teleporter, and everybody knew it. He hadn’t hesitated to sign up for the wedding operation. Diana wanted him to, feeling guilty he’d chosen her over Mare before. “I only wanted you back,” he said. “But it goes together. They should have a better life than we had, and I won’t leave Diana to fight alone.” But as he spoke, he was in no way certain. Their lives would change so dramatically, so what could he be sure about?
“You put family first,” Mare said.
He snorted. “Am I not supposed to?” Although Diana hadn’t felt like she was allowed to embrace family over the cause, that was her whole problem with the colonel who pushed their relation away. He would call Shade a bad soldier if he described it to him.
Mare would have nothing of that. “You sound like a dad!” she exclaimed and left him aghast once more. Straight to the point.
He still had a few days left to find out what kind of dad he was.
A/N 2:This and the future chapters allude to past events I intend to cover in a new fic (planned to be released for Shade's birthday in February).
Have you ever thought about how fade would be like in the future? Would they have more kids? What would their wedding be like?
Hi!!
Sorry for my slow replies - I want to remind you that I still totally remember your first ask and want to answer it in the future. In fact, when you sent it first, it MASSIVELY motivated me to further follow my inspirations and ideas for Fadelife and so I've spent the last months in Fadeland* thinking about Fade and putting together details of their future life as well as more fics and story ideas and I've enjoyed it so much and prepared drafts and notes that will come together in actual fan fiction here. So thank you so, so, so much for asking! I can't thank you enough, it's been such a joy write fics again!
However (the but is coming). First of all, my time for the screen is limited, especially when I'm also writing fics, so I'm not always online and slow to reply. Also, I've hesitated to answer your question because I wanted to ponder on it very thoroughly so I won't miss out on points I'd like to make. I mean, I've been considering Fade for nine years and a lot came together, so I'm simply used to more ideas trickling in randomly over time ... Lastly, as I put together what I wanted to post, I realized I'd rather say it in fics because it feels more appropiate to weave Fade into stories and show them instead of just summing it all up. And as I do so, as several fic ideas started to pop up and sometimes I just feel more inspired to work on that one rather than another that might appear for urgent to my readers. I hope that doesn't disappoint you too much - maybe you'd like spoilers first and still enjoy the fics where I expand upon these events. For now, I'd prefer to write some fics first, then sum it all up.
Yet rest assured that I am totally inspired and drafting things as time flies - just the last two days I've started with a lot of content AND finally re-read Steel Scars. For years, I've avoided reading it because I thought it'd hurt too much but I felt ready now with all the Shade is still alive content I'm working on to comfort me. It still hurts though. Reading Farley's sad voice reminds me that canon Farley must be so lonely to raise Clara on her own and I'm not sure she even has friends close enough to pour her heart out to - even Mare she only gives bits and pieces. And the work for the Scarlet Guard IS that hard - I wondered if I lay it on too thick in Flowers of Piedmont how she struggles with working pregnant and if Command wouldn't be more considerate but it seems like she totally would feel pressured to go to her limits. Maybe I will write canon fics as well to cover this, though I realize again how much more angsty canon is to what I write with a certain comic relief.
Re-reading definitely confirmed my impression that she is demi and also offered new impulses for how to continue To Break a Storm - the main reason it stucks now is that I needed to re-read Steel Scars to figure out how to streamline it with Steel Scars events although it can't be fully congruent with canon because I've already done things differently - but who cares, Steel Scars has its own typos and plot holes, so what if I change some details to tell a good story? I think Roman and Aude do fit in there smoothly though ;-)
*Fadeland, as I've mentioned it a few times, is the imaginary place I "go" to when inventing stories about Fade. Maybe that sounds weird, but it does feel like my mind goes somewhere else as I invent stories.
Red Queen Fan Fiction - The Flowers of Piedmont Part I
May 13th - Happy Birthday, Diana Farley
A/N: An in-depth new series dedicated to the month around Clara's birth in Piedmont where SHADE IS STILL ALIVE. I don't care about canon anymore, I've imagined this en detail for nine years, let's indulge in the fluff. Fade supremacy.
Companion work to Hidden Intentions and follow-up to A Promise Under Flowers. Connections mentioned in text; can be read independently.
I post this here in one big chunk but splitted it on Wattpad and AO3 - read where and how fast you prefer. The first part features backward storytelling; the second part will move forward in time again.
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
Part 1
Interlude
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
8660 words
Part I
The return on May 30th
Shade Barrow had played the spy enough times in his life to become skilled at eavesdropping. So he knew how to stand beside the door of the meeting room casually but close enough to listen in, waiting for the familiar sounds of a gathering concluding. Despite perfecting the timing, he forewent knocking and opened the door, walking in as if pulled by a magnet.
He found the magnet without having to search. Diana rose to welcome him, equally drawn. She moved toward him in step so fluid, he didn’t even think to take in the rest of the room. He was transfixed. No less so when she reached him and grasped his shoulders, offering one playful smile before they lips met.
She kissed him with newfound, unbridled passion – no more delight in secrecy, no public restraint, no awkwardness over commenting the obviousness of their relationship. Over the threshold of the meeting room, Diana took Shade by the chin and kissed him in front of everyone. Put your man in line, she’d confessed jokingly what was whispered about them after Shade had caused a scene with the colonel. This was her reply. A show as intense as the smell of blood-red roses.
He even caught a whiff of fragrance tethered on the buds of her lips. Thoughts strayed to when he last saw her with blood on her face, and his arms tensed. Her fingers traced his jaw, wandering to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair. Her other hand went lower, to his waist, and with his eyes closed, her touch anchored him, lost in the kiss and the image of roses –
But no, he couldn’t get lost, give in as if there was no one else, or he didn’t care. He held in his arms the reason why Diana let go, and how everything had changed. Clara.
Her presence was another kind of anchor. Even now, he knew she was awake when he’d smiled down at her as he’d settled beside the door. Even now, he shivered as her hand grasped the sleeve of his shirt. He still failed to comprehend the might of so tiny a hand.
It didn’t change the way he and Diana were kissing, nor the longing between them. Or – not more since their lives had already shifted dimensions two weeks ago when she was born.
Clara made everything more intense.
Diana leaned away. Her expression controlled to a faint smile. Now she kept her bewitching hands off him.
He blinked as he finally assessed their surroundings. The embarrassed stares and evading eyes of the group. Davidson and his second looking at their papers, Ada too but smiling to herself, the Scarlet Guard generals and aides trying to keep still while the colonel he didn’t grant attention. Shade found Cal, looking back and forth, and Mare, next to him, with her eyes on them and both astonished and grinning. She grabbed Cal’s hand as if to tone down his reaction although she was the one barely hiding her amusement. Shade gladly played lovey-dovey if it lit her up like that.
“Do you have a request, Shade?” Cal asked, saving him with a transition skill Shade thanked his royal training for. Shade had just come to accompany Diana from her first meeting after her baby break, suspecting she wanted to see Clara again as soon as possible, yet he had to grip the offered branch as he had no idea what they were discussing. He fished for anything as he took in the members of the group, desperate to avoid making a fool of himself as he recovered the current issues of the Scarlet Guard. A baby and victory mood had left him lax on attention. “Good afternoon, yes, indeed. Have you fortified the undefensed vehicle garages yet?” he managed at last. Some weeks ago, he’d noticed and reported this issue himself. On their arrival, Diana had been in charge of inspecting the piedmont base to meet their necessities yet she wasn’t fit to walk the complete parameters in the heat. He’d done it instead as her left-hand-man, used to similar tasks for silver officers in the nortan army. But then Diana was promoted to general and gave birth and now the colonel had the job and Shade loved to annoy him.
The attendees mumbled and cleared throats while Diana swallowed a breath. “We’ve been working on it,” she said, “good that you remind us of the need.” She took his arm and threw him a sharp look. She still didn’t appreciate his antics against her father. She returned her attention to the group. “I expect this to be remedied in two days,” she ordered, “the funds and supplies are ready.” With a nod, she bid them goodbye and closed the meeting, exiting the room and pulling Shade along.
With everyone going their ways, the three of them were left alone in the corridor. Time to breathe again. She hugged him from the side, her head resting on his shoulder. Shade cleared his throat. “Are you tired?”
She shrugged yet didn’t even sigh. Only looked at Clara and caressed her face until the baby captured a finger.
He laughed. “She has the fastest hands ever,” he said and Diana fell in. After a few seconds of leaning on him, she took Clara from him, holding her close, cheek to cheek. “My love,” she whispered.
Diana had loved her for months, already the mere idea of her. She was quicker to grasp the meaning of becoming a parent and yet – another thorough change had gone through her still, this passion she no longer tried to hide from others. He’d understood the appeal she found in secrecy but this new facet of her – it unmoored him, and it never failed to amaze him how many sides he discovered in her.
She turned to him and even then, he missed the weight of holding Clara. It had been like this since the first time she was in his arms, and he neither dared nor wanted to put her aside. He argued Diana had had her for months.
He swallowed. It was hard to move his mind out of childcare mode, yet it wasn’t like Clara’s needs would go away while they did other things. This was what this day was about – learn to balance childcare with the Guard, their specific jobs, their relationship, their lives. It seemed like it came easier to Diana to leave Clara in his or his parents’ care. She’d informed the officers and co-councillors she’d bring her daughter along to meetings but she was still so little and as Shade was eager to keep Clara close to him, they’d decided she’d return alone with her full attention.
“You know,” Diana said as they slowly paced, “we did talk about exactly the thing you brought up.”
He sucked in a breath – that explained her reaction. Did that leave his prompt awkward or on point? He hadn’t thought about the urgency of the request when he’d made it, and Diana knew this.
Their stances on the colonel differed, more so lately. Diana was less confrontational and he all the more, suspecting the colonel levelled undue demands at her. Diana was aware of her duties which only increased with her promotion but he thought the colonel’s remarks went beyond that.
Shade realized he turned passive-aggressive-protective when it came to the colonel. Shade couldn’t accept his continued lack of improvement; it was like he was the force urging Diana to work despite the demands of her body and baby to rest. He knew her weak spots and didn’t attempt to avoid them. Diana insisted she couldn’t judge her father too harshly – she knew why he was like this and had gone along with it, for years. When she explained, Shade almost felt bad for causing trouble. Support meant meeting her preferences to spare the colonel. But during those very same moments she told him about this, he witnessed how she’d suffered from his cold, distanced attitude. Shade couldn’t forgive the colonel still wouldn’t amend, not even when Diana had just had a baby. She’d hated living like that! Like functional professionals, comrades with no ties of family. Diana had pretty much admitted to Shade she wanted Clara because the colonel was no family for her.
Shade stopped to stroke her back. “The colonel treated you alright, didn’t he?” He refrained from asking if the colonel had been reprimanded for the unsupervised garages during the meeting.
She freed a hand to cuff his chest. “You’ve caught him alright.” She smirked. “But we mostly talked with Mare about court facilities and conflicts now the Samos have defected while Cal charmed everyone. His mood has lifted decidedly lately.”
“I see why.” His eyes found hers as he twirled a curl of her hair but even as he flirted, he thought of Mare and Cal’s clasped hands. Two more who couldn’t stop touching. Diana gave him an inquiring look but didn’t say anything else. Was it desire or wondering? He pressed his palm against her shoulders. “And are you alright?”
She nodded gravely, yet her face softened, if not fell. Her lips were so rose-red he considered it was lipstick as he traced such remnants left on his own. Her hair was washed and combed to loose curls, also carrying the distinct, sweet scent of roses. Plus her crisp white tunic over her red trousers – she had, most unusually, dressed up to the occasion.
“If this was a pissing contest,” he began, “I thought your tactic is to have them take you as you are?” She never prettied herself up for leisure, only for necessities like disguising on missions. Was this a mission in disguise for her? Maybe her co-councillors needed to be reminded Diana was only up and about already because she had Sara to heal all her infirmities and even that left her so exhausted after the birth that she’d slept for days.
She knew what he meant but shrugged. “Tried something out. You have to surprise them sometimes, get them off their feet.”
With a snort, he spun in front of her, taking her in. “You have flustered me,” he said, and tucked a curl behind her ear.
A cackle escaped her throat and for a moment, she stared at him as if she wanted to kiss him like before, his longing growing until it shifted into missing. Still she looked, and he knew she was playing with him.
She opened her mouth but froze before saying whatever she intended. “She sleeps,” she murmured, pulling Shade’s gaze at Clara’s face half hidden in her shirt.
How come she was cuter every time he looked? She made him feel a pierce in his heart that could kill him. If it wasn’t Clara’s weight alone that bound him, her sight took him over on a new level now that she found into her own features. She resembled him so much, he couldn’t forget she was a part of him with the same colouring in shades of brown, with amber eyes as intricate and sweet as honeycombs.
Angling her head, Diana guided him away, with careful steps. “One meeting is enough for today,” she said with a glint in her smile. Of course she noticed how besotted he was. “I don’t care for work right now. I’d rather”, she went on, but dragged the moment out until he was dying to hear it, “like to go outside again.” That coda would be a cool-down if her eyes didn’t sparkle with excitement.
He glanced through the window into the afternoon sun, playing clueless himself. “But not with Clara.” He was still on the fence on bringing her outside during the day, assuming she was as heat-sensitive as her mother and a generally delicate newborn.
Diana chuckled but her eyes never stopped fixing him. “No,” she said slowly. “She can stay with your parents.” He nodded, still uncertain where this was going, till she added, “so you can finally give me my birthday present.”
He tensed, gasping, and lost his breath entirely when she whispered something so lewd in his ear he’d never dreamed of hearing. “Sure,” he agreed, his voice husky with arousal. “I‘ve promised.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two weeks earlier, May 13th
In the gym, the light was blinding. Farley squinted against the sunshine falling in from the high windows before adjusting, stepping over the patterns of light and shadows thrown on the floor. The activity in the hall revived an itch in herself, to walk outside, feel every muscle of her body in power instead of heavy and tired out by the heat, days spent sitting through meetings and calculations, and nine months of pregnancy.
Well. She let her arms swing, stretching and enjoying to walk. That was a thing she’d started doing in the meetings, too, standing and wandering and making the other attendees get used to it. It was better this way. She was a general now, her duties heavier than ever. She couldn’t disappoint the leadership that had promoted her, nor the soldiers under her command now. She had to impress the monfortan faction and have them support the Guard making further alliances as she kept together the fragile coalition between red, silver and newblood rebels, in Norta and the Lakelands. But endure and stay unassuming until she collapsed, or insist on her needs and have them accept that. After the daunting experience two weeks ago, enough was enough.
Shade would support. So much that she did it on her own, before she complained to him and he reminded her to go through with what she preferred. She’d begun to feel embarrassed to need him to tell her to trust herself, yet it was encouraging to know he had her back.
Now she found his back in the hall, bent over himself to stretch, just wrapping up his training. For a moment, she could only watch, the brown skin and outlines of his body embraced and gilded by the sun, his sinews and muscles emphasized in lithe elegance as his grown, longish hair fell over his face. She wanted to brush through it. Sometimes, he called her a study in pastel sunrise, but he was the warmth of sunlight and fire, entwined with the shadows they cast. The light in the dark. The strength hidden in shadows. When he looked up and faced her, she bit her lip, caught staring and distracted by his beauty.
He smiled as she reached him. “You done?” she asked.
His fingertips brushed her bare arms, causing the hairs on her skin to rise as if it was still the first time touching. “I’ve just been passing the hours, waiting till your schedule’s over,” he said. As they moved to the edge of the hall, his smile fell. “You had no issue with working the whole of today?”
They passed a wall bar and on a whim, she stopped, leaning against it. She reached up, holding Shade’s gaze. “It was okay, the usual.” She breathed out as her arms stretched above her. Just the memory of sports excited her.
Shade positioned himself in front of her, hands grabbing the bar behind her waist and meeting her eyes. “You’re really alright,” he said, pondering.
In lieu of shrugging, the corners of her mouth twitched. It wasn’t like she felt no strain at all. “It’s neat.”
“Okay then. I wish you,” he grinned, “a happy due date.”
Now she winced for real. “Must you with this again? I didn’t have the slightest cramps today.”
His grin was lingering. He leaned ever closer so their bellies touched, his hand shifting to her waist. Although her body’s shape had changed so much, his touch there was no less enticing and the glint in his amber eyes told her it was the same for him. He inched forward, angling his head to kiss her jawline. “No?” She sensed a nervousness in his whisper, similar to her own. “I must’ve mixed this up.” He looked up. “Happy birthday, I mean.”
For a moment, she just wanted to drink in the love in his gaze. Then she shifted to nuzzle his cheek, maintaining her grasp of the bar, enjoying the kinky restraint of it. “Thank you,” she murmured, as she breathed in. His other hand joined the embrace of her waist and she thought this was it. She had worked despite the imminent birth of their child, expected by today, but being with Shade, right here right now, erased the stress and exhaustion.
As they broke apart, she gasped. He considered her. “If you want to work out,” he said, “a coach might have recommendations.”
She shook her head. “Never mind. We can go swimming again tomorrow.” She relaxed and let go of the bar but Shade still held her so tightly as if to pretend he was lifting her down. They stayed close, brows meeting. Her now free hands couldn’t decide where to touch him first. Only the idea of letting go and part was unimaginable. She reached for his hair and almost anticipated someone in the gym making a lewd comment.
“I’ve promised you a present,” Shade said, and the memory of it fired up, despite all that had happened in between. She hesitated.
His lips grazed her ear. “I want to show you something.” And before someone could interrupt their romantic mood, she followed him out with delight.
He had left her outside in anticipation of kisses and “promises” to wash. Quickly, she hoped. Foolishly, she’d exited the gym and stood outside, rolling on her heels and massaging her back. Despite the shade of the entry and its awning, the heat of the late afternoon made her sweat again. This time of the day the warmth of Piedmont accumulated the most. She had found it hard to tolerate it the first time she was this far south years ago, and she found it even harder right now, pregnant and, although she disliked to combine the words, sadly swollen. Just the weather, she comforted herself, just the last days.
“Diana.”
Her name whispered from behind made her shiver her like a welcome breeze. Shade’s fingers slid over her shoulder, along her arms, before joining their hands. “Sorry you had to wait,” he added.
She glanced at him, cleaned and his hair messy but glittering with water drops. His face was concerned, even as he led the way.
He knows I hate the heat. Touching but it was her fault for going outside. She shook her head. “No matter,” she replied. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, watching him swallow afterward. That was what he got for teasing – he wanted to give in, too.
The base wasn’t completely awful – the landscape was in full bloom, all green trees with flowers along the way, fresh and sweet scents accompanying their walk. Farley was stunned such a peaceful place existed, even considering it was a military base. Its silvers creators combined function with beauty – or rather, luxury. It felt unreal, like a dream or refuge and it woke memories in her, letting her imagine a different time. Or world.
The beauty seduced one like a trap, only she had been on guard the moment she’d set foot here, and the heat was a further warning to keep her mind clear.
And she needed to, as Shade wove them along the side paths and quieter, less used buildings of the complex. To set and keep the base running, she’d poured over lists and maps and found the spots they walked now on paper before she had sent people to inspect, guard or man them, if their purposes were required. One day, she’d tried to walk over the base herself until she admitted it beyond her strength. Shade had been doing it for her and now he showed the fruits of this tour. He navigated them easily and experienced around corners she wouldn’t have guessed led anywhere and despite the maze-like trip, it was one of shortcuts, as it only lasted a few minutes before he stopped.
He turned to her, grasping her shoulder. “You alright?”
She patted his chest. “I’ll survive.”
He smiled in response, guiding her into the small building in front of them, which was, indeed, a porch on the backside of a house, overgrown with wisteria and lilac bushes around it.
Stepping inside, it had remained surprisingly cool and was rather dim, the jalousies half down and the windows covered with pollen. The seats inside were invitingly cozy, a few chairs with a couch and a bench surrounding a low table.
Shade presented it all with a flourish, letting her choose a favourite seat. She sank into the couch, resting her arm on the edge of it. “Could you have foreseen this thing?” she said. “This place is exactly …” Her hand lay on the cusp of her belly, and her head fell back. Above, thick and dark wooden beams intertwined with tangles of the wisteria tree growing beside the walls, almost like a pillar. The scent of the bloom enveloped her while Shade opened a cabinet. He produced an array of food on a painted plate. Numerous snacks up for the taking, like bread, dips, slices and several sweet desserts.
Already, Farley lunged for a waffle as soon as he set it down.
“Wolfish hunger.” He cackled, then sat, sideways and only on the edge of the couch. “I’m glad to match your tastes.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled after she’d swallowed.
“Though, I could organize a grill for warm food if that provided you more satisfaction.”
She froze in her tracks of eating another cake. “You brought it all here before?”
He shrugged. “Well, you prefer to walk but I have quicker ways.” He winked. “I’ve had the whole day you were working to prepare.” He bent over to align a dish anew and Farley’s head spun.
She caught his hand and fixed his eyes. “Really, thank you” she repeated.
“It’s simply dinner.”
“But you knew I’d want it this way.” Her eyes burned with feelings. She wouldn’t cry over it. Skies, her emotions these days. He only returned the favour of celebrating their birthdays but she’d given him a surprise party in February. She had hardly been sure he’d like it until he did, glad to make his guests happy with a party.
Today, he acted with the certainty she wanted it quiet and intimate.
The same certainty he watched her with right now. She was still captivated as he sank before her, kneeling and resting his hands and chin on her knees.
His eyes were on fire.
“I’ve promised,” he said.
“I’m eating,” she replied. Still overwhelmed.
For a moment, he was aghast, his jaw dropping. Then laughter rose deep from his chest and lasted as he buried his face on her legs. Farley reached out, grasping his hair, again, giving in to another craving. As she brushed through it, she considered to add eat me, despite her comment. But like the time he’d made the promise to explore and taste every inch of her under the shadows of flowers, it was more image and idea, more fantasy than real.
Her knees parted just slightly, accommodating him. She lifted the back of his head, searching his gaze. “No kidding,” she said softly, “but no.” She still played with his hair, savouring every touch. “I’m not up for it. I feel, like, primed for childbirth.”
He took that in, even as she grimaced. Taking his hand, she invited him to rise again and he did, cuddling into her side on the couch.
“This is enough,” she whispered, then gave him a side glance. “For now.”
He smirked. “You’ll hold me to it?”
“I’ve waited so long.” She sighed dramatically. “But you can give me another present. What about the boy name you wanted to come up with?” They had decided on Farley-Barrow as the family name and as she wished to call a girl for her mother or sister, she left the choice of a boy name up to him. He’d agreed but offered no clues.
He looked ridiculously scandalized. “Out of patience? I’ll tell you when we meet them.” He paused. “If they’re not a girl.”
She tsked. “So you wouldn’t tell … ever?” She hesitated to point out the other option – another child after this one.
Neither did he, only smirking more mysteriously until it turned into giggles. The sound was as delightful as the butterfly kisses he placed on her shoulder and arm. His fingertips danced over the curve of her belly and although she eyed another snack, she was caught in fascination over the elegance of his long and nimble fingers.
Even as he kept it up, his face shed playfulness. He glanced up. “Are you afraid?”
She blinked, stunned to standstill. “Way to kill the mood,” she said. “I thought you meant to celebrate my birthday.” She turned her head away and reached for the pistachio-chocolate cookie. Anything but to look at him.
“I meant –”
“You could’ve waited until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow you might be in labour.”
“Maybe it’s not a good question to ask to begin with.” She chewed.
“Diana!”
She swallowed her snack and let the delicious taste linger in her mouth. It harmonized with the fragrance of the bloom.
He sighed, his brow sinking against her temple. “You’re afraid for them,” he said. His hand splayed on her belly.
She had been afraid for their baby every day. She let work distract her, believing in the cause that would protect the future of their child. Still, now everything could trigger a bout of panic that only feeling it move could unwind. Sometimes, she dropped so deep she needed Shade’s comfort to assure her, his embrace holding her up when she doubted she’d have a child to hold.
I can’t be so lucky to have a living child.
It might make it to full term but be stillborn after all.
To invest all this love and effort might be the riskiest plan I’ve ever made.
When half your family had been taken from you and the rest chose to ignore you, it seemed presumptuous to start your own.
When she wrestled death every day, her own survival through all this time felt like cursed luck as her friends and comrades kept dying.
“We’ve talked through that already, didn’t we?” she said quietly. “That I’m emotionally preparing for the worst.” She added her hand to his, fingertips touching. With perfect timing, the baby shifted.
“It’s lively,” she said, the eternal relief making her smile at Shade. He had to feel it, too. It always surprised him, usually mixed with amusement, yet this time, he appeared rather amazed. Stunned, like swept off his feet.
It happened sometimes, that he showed it – how overwhelmed he was, uncertain what to make of becoming a father. He’d told her, once, and regretted it afterwards. Not wanting to cause her a bad conscience as she had been the one to choose, convinced, and he followed along. He did his best, caring for her, supporting her every day, and she understood. He did for her.
Shade cleared his throat. “But what about you?” he asked, returning to his initial question.
Her head feel back. “Ah, me.” She smiled weakly and enmeshed his hand with her fingers. “I’ll live,” she said, turning to him. At his frown, she went on. “I have Sara to take care of me. We can rely on her.”
Shade inclined his head, accepting this, but still waiting. She sighed. “She is a relief,” she insisted. “She can’t do nothing if our baby isn’t … but I trust she can keep me safe.”
Shade opened his mouth. “Don’t worry,” she said. His lips shut in a tight line. He’d keep fearing for her like she did for the baby, for the worst, without believing it. They couldn’t help it.
“But …” she swallowed. “I’m not sure how it’ll be, of course. I like to think I know pain and endurance, yet who knows? Maybe it’ll be so much worse.” He squeezed her hand. “Or how long it’ll take. It could take days.” She grimaced.
“That would be …” He didn’t like that either.
“Yes, but Caroline says …” Caroline was the nurse who worked with Sara and had treated Farley the last months. “That long births don’t have to be a bad thing. That the body takes its rest and slows down. Better to let it work on its own time than interfere.” She shrugged. “Well, if it’s safe for us? Doesn’t sound like fun though.”
Shade leaned up and kissed her temple. “The baby will be fun,” he said.
She chuckled. “I hope so! And a lot of work, too.” She wanted to stroke her belly again yet didn’t want to let go of Shade’s hand either. So she just looked down. “Maybe I enjoy the waiting too much,” she said softly. “For now, it lives in some way.”
“Dee …”
The fear never left her fully. She shook her head, lightly. “Some pregnant people can’t stand these last days. Totally uncomfortable. I don’t know. At least I can move now. Once I’m in labour, or after the birth, I can’t be sure. I could be too weak to do much of anything.” She faced him, drawing in his gaze. His golden eyes held such warmth, love and determination, despite his own insecurities.
He wouldn’t leave her side. He trained and she was a general of his but he wouldn’t go anywhere that brought him further away than one jump. He hadn’t done so since the day they’d freed Mare.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two weeks earlier
Early, on May 1st, they rose in the dark to start an attack. It was the day of the royal wedding, an auspicious date, one celebrated in old worlds and new. But who would celebrate today?
Hitting on the event amused Shade tremendously. Even as he and Farley were getting dressed in their ridiculously sumptuous, formerly silver lodgings that Shade had bargained for them in the piedmont base, he was electrified with excitement.
Farley didn’t share it. She couldn’t relate to the spring in his step, the way one slice of bread was enough for him for breakfast while she could’ve devoured a full table. She was exhausted and weary. The Scarlet Guard had arrived at the base no whole two days ago and as she had wondered aloud how safe the place was, she had been quickly asked to examine it. That alone would’ve been enough work for her but she also had to acquaint herself with their new monfortan newblood soldiers, their leader Davidson, the Guard’s own reinforcements and the battle plans themselves, deciding who fit into which specific task. She couldn’t bail on that. The international alliance of red leaders was a triumph by itself, one she’d played a vital part in brokering. At least she had no role in assigning everyone else to their beds.
So she hadn’t had time to sleep her due since they’d arrived and even when she’d closed her eyes, what she’d learned of Davidson’s secrets and schemes kept her awake. It had flustered him how pregnant she was when they met, although he’d known it before. Seeing that made a difference, as well as her face when he admitted how he blackmailed the piedmont rulers. By their children.
“You disapprove,” Davidson had said.
“We’ll have to make the most of your efforts,” she’d deflected. At his unflinching stare, she added, “it heightens their motivation to retaliate. And who will be their target?” She’d breathed heavily. “I don’t plan to give the enemy more reason to target our children than they already do.” The nortan draft had wrought enough damage. She’d held up a hand to Davidson. “I understood what it does to them.”
“Dee,” Shade called her now as she still sat on the bed, too high, too large, too richly embroidered. Behind her, he massaged her shoulders, a knee on the bed.
With a sigh, she fixed her gun and straightened. “Coming.” He reached for her hand with an encouraging smile, helping her up.
They clasped hands as they walked to meet the teams before take-off. The twilight before dawn stroked Shade’s features, drawing out his eagerness. He possessed a deadly beauty on this morning as he looked ready to kill. And all that time, this smile. How she had wished to bring that smile on his face, since he had told her how he’d tried but refrained from freeing Mare by himself three months ago.
Farley did think it had been too risky to just try at a random chance. She dreaded lose him, then and today. Still she felt guilty she and their baby stopped him from saving his other family. She owed more to him. She owed more to Mare. Doing nothing for six months was a shame for all of them.
So she relished the smile he showed in anticipation, at the prospect of acting. They stopped in a corner in front of the meeting point, turning to each other. His eyes, so warm and hopeful, were bright and golden as the sun – or more so, before sunrise. She looked so long she drowned in his eyes before he kissed her goodbye, cupping her jaw. On hand on her midriff, he attended to their child. But it was still all too casual to be a farewell. They both avoided to make it one, to acknowledge defeat, that he might not return. She couldn’t deny him this yet a part of her didn’t want to let him go, afraid it’d be their last touch.
He broke off, smirking, grasping her hands. “We’ll show them fire,” he said.
“And burning bright,” she added, their private battle motto taunting the Calore fire. Now she smiled, matching his mood, until he let go to join his comrades. Ending their moment. There was more to say, countless things, but Shade was too optimistic and thrilled, and she – she couldn’t, wouldn’t scare him. They’d gone through the alternate plans during the briefings, and she wouldn’t ask him to come back, no matter how much she wished.
Then he stopped, went back in his tracks and returned to her. Hugging her. “My love,” he whispered. “you’ve made a masterplan.”
Now she couldn’t help it, she grinned from the bottom of her heart even though her eyes grew wet. “Obviously,” she replied.
She arrived at the control room once their soldiers were sent off to Archeon. She nodded to fellow officers and assistants staying behind as she dropped in her chair, relieved. Every step of the walk had felt heavier. The exhaustion only increased her dread, the anxiety about the operation, and this place.
Theoretically, they wouldn’t really have to run things from here, as they didn’t have the means to interfere. They gathered just to watch and communicate with the fighters and their sources on location. Farley relied on their information, already going through preparations to set up if all went awry. Not only the mission. Eventually, Maven would counter.
And his new lakelander allies? She was sick when she heard of the wedding and saw the prideful appearances of the royal Cygnets beside Maven. Norta and the Lakelands, finally at peace, after all the killing they’d forced their red populations into? The Scarlet Guard’s plan, her own work, had been about uniting the red populations the silvers in charge were turning into enemies and this alliance tried to make it look pointless. Like Maven knew, foresaw. It was hardly a surprise, he had met Farley himself and could identify her as a lakelander. And what he tortured out of Mare –
Farley couldn’t find a comfortable position in her seat. She glanced around the room, decidedly not pausing on her father. He was looking at her, of course. Her cheek twitched as she suppressed a wince.
The Cygnets would’ve shared with Maven intel on the Guard to fight them. It made their situation so much more precarious. It made this mission so important. Maven believed he had the upper hand and the Guard would punch him with this offensive while the allies from Montfort were the major surprise.
If only Davidson hadn’t provoked Piedmont …
They wouldn’t have attained this base without the provocation though. Still, that did nothing to reassure Farley. She imagined Piedmont taking it back. She thought of the mission failing, no one returning. And even Maven having them roused this same day, countering immediately once he learned of the infiltrated base, Piedmont happy to help him.
While she watched the notifications come in, listening to the officers’ comments and making replies, she tapped her fingers on the table. Her pulse wouldn’t calm. It wasn’t only the hole ripping her heart at the idea of losing Shade. She felt, all around, profoundly unsafe in this place. She couldn’t trust it. She didn’t want to stay, the richness of her rooms only stressing the presumptuousness of the move here. It was a risk she wouldn’t have taken.
The first thing she did here, even before checking what the base offered, was planning how to evacuate, how to notify everyone and to assess –
A tightening in her lower back surged so viciously it took her breath. It returned with a silent curse.
She fisted her hands in reaction, holding herself up with her arms on the table. Don’t bend over. Her gaze flew over the room. They hadn’t noticed, had they? She’d already looked worn when she arrived, after all. Her heart beat even stronger and her breathing grew quicker. She tried to check herself. She felt still tense, but it hadn’t hurt that much. Maybe it was a one time thing. She cleared her mind, brought herself back on track, caught up on anything she missed. Nothing, it had been that short.
But another cramp came, even as she was prepared. She grinded her teeth. She couldn’t go into labour now, not with all the dangers to anticipate.
She waited it out. Waited for her body to settle again and took a swallow from her water. Then she rose. “Excuse me,” she announced, “I don’t feel well.” She endured their shocked, wary stares with a straight face. “I’ll be in my room, should the situation change.”
She ignored their replies, couldn’t stand more of them and see what lay behind them. How they must take this as confirmation she was unreliable, someone to worry about, who, obviously, visibly, had other priorities than the war.
But sometimes you couldn’t choose what was priority, sorry not sorry. Some needs of the body were too strong to be denied, and she wasn’t any less committed for it. She had done everything they wanted, everything to serve and impress outside of fighting. The pain and stress only increased her anger. The way to her rooms was short, even as her gait was stiff and careful, expecting another cramp. Even when it happened, at the door, she could manage with heavy breathing.
Possibly, the lodgings were worth Shade’s bartering. It was central, cozy, and featured a bathroom. He reminded her to worry for herself. Not to push herself too much. But she couldn’t help having to prove herself. She couldn’t give up the work, had to use her position so their child would have a future. A position she could only hold by doing more than less.
“That’s unfair,” Shade said.
“I know!” she agreed. But it wasn’t the whole truth. There was talk of a promotion and she wanted more. So she could ask more for herself – like their rooms, or a rest. So she could make up for when she’d failed. So the newbloods maintained the attention of Command, and the leadership wouldn’t give up on Mare, drop Shade, Cal, Kilorn, Sara, Cameron or the other Barrows who helped her and the cause so much.
She owed too much to turn away.
She leaned on the velvet couch, closing her eyes. Did she imagine the cramps lessened? She breathed in and out, slowly, focused, calming herself. Fixating on the room. Despite the salmon wallpapers with printed patterns in pink and white, it remained cooler than its warm colouring suggested. It was a north-facing place with two large windows looking over the woods with heavy awnings over a balcony featuring escape stairs. She hadn’t set foot on the balcony but Shade had checked. He had mainly picked the apartment for the coolness, to ease her time in the hot and humid weather here. He also insisted they’d need rooming fitting a family that was close to the command center with control and meeting rooms as well as the infirmary. That left only this apartment filled with silver luxury, so ridiculous in its splendour Farley had wanted to object. “We don’t know how long we’ll even stay.”
Shade didn’t bend. “We don’t know when we’ll need the space,” he claimed and went on to order a second desk besides the massive dark wood table before the windows. He asked if its chair met Farley’s needs before adding a more useful table between the couches, a bed for a newborn and wondering if she desired anything else. She disagreed with the four-poster bed hangings and the heavy extra blankets piled on the bed and those he removed in a minute before cataloguing the bookshelf and picking one book with delight.
In a moment of uncertain ease, she got a glass of water and a wet towel and settled on the couch. She still hadn’t made peace with it – the decorative explosion destroyed the comfort in her opinion; the embroideries were scratching. But carefully, she laid down, head on the seat, her butt propped up on a thick, tasselled and equally embroidered pillow. She hoped that helped to relax her womb. At least her appetite was gone, though she wasn’t sure how hunger would later go with actual labour.
I should have known not to give in, she thought, with the wet towel over her eyes. Not to the demands, not to her pride. But nothing would return her control over her body when it came to this. At some point, she would give birth and would offer all her powers to that alone.
Wasn’t that a job big enough?
“Are you okay?” she whispered to her belly, showing aside the towel and found a stucco ceiling above her. She had no idea how this must feel to her child. She remained alert, waiting for an intensifying to call on the infirmary. Sara wasn’t even here, going on the mission despite – or because of – any horrors she’d suffered at the palace. Farley understood that all too well, yet it left her even more unsafe.
If she had to be honest, she expected to manage the birth without Shade holding her hand. She didn’t want to. She craved his attention, relied on his support, sank into the relief he provided as love tokens. He would’ve helped her examined the base yesterday, too, versed in similar tasks he’d done for the nortan army as an aide. But he’d had his own preparations and training to go through before the operation.
Last afternoon, after Shade had returned from training and she’d needed a break from her papers, she’d prompted to defile the bed with him, one more lovemaking they wouldn’t call a goodbye tryst. One memory to cherish and cheer her up.
She didn’t dare to imagine he would fall in battle, but his absence left its mark anyway. What truly scared her was Shade not there to remove her from danger. That was why labour right now appeared so threatening. She’d be immobilized and in pain, and afterwards thoroughly exhausted, maybe injured, and with a crying, helpless newborn to care for. It was the one time she couldn’t protect herself, no matter how many weapons she carried.
She’d avoided teleporting with Shade for months, as the ongoing pregnancy only increased her nausea caused by jumping. But it was also the sole guarantee of safety she had should they come under attack. She’d have to do it. Yet he wasn’t here to help her when she feared Maven’s and Piedmont’s vengeance. She sucked in a breath, feeling a pierce. Waiting. Calm. Distraction.
She reached for Shade’s book on the table (already replaced and fortunately higher than the one before). Trying to read it proved to be in vain rather quickly – it was the sequel, not beginning, of a complicated story and oddly erotic. She really couldn’t afford thoughts of arousal at the moment. Instead, she returned the towel over her eyes, still wet enough to cool. Under its comforting darkness, she decided to ask Shade about his book, and why he was so excited to have found it. If only they had more time to talk about books. But had they not chosen this life …
I should have known not to give in. Maybe they could’ve had other lives, but in those they would’ve never met. And if she wanted more ways to live for their child, she had to do this. If they both got to meet and make it safely through this day.
Thumping. Rumbling. Stepping. She twitched in her dreams, the sounds a part of them before she shifted into waking. Her eyes opened, blinking, unseeing, until she felt a touch on her cheek.
“Dee.” A whisper to rouse her that rose into urging. “Diana!”
Her eyes finally saw. Shade was bent over her, flushed and panting. She groaned weakly, slowly lifting her hand, reaching for his. “Hm?”
He released a breath. Checked the pulse in her wrist. Looked up, then closed his eyes and rested his brow on hers.
Her mind recovered from sleeping, realizing. He was back. Safe. Her heart fluttered, first from waking, then with gladness. The light had changed to a warmer colour, the sun low and on the other side, gilding the contours of Shade’s face as the rays fell on him. Bless the room for its coolness, sparing her the heat of the day. She’d slept into the late afternoon and her body felt … loose. Not tense with cramps nor heavy with exhaustion. Her heartbeat eased. All was well.
The cramps caused a false alert and Shade was here and alive. As his other hand found her other, she squeezed it. “Hey, how did it go …”
But he was still over her, panting. Why was he panting? Was he injured? Didn’t he get healed? Why would he be so out of breath when he could teleport?
Finally, he lifted his head. Examining her face. “They said you weren’t well,” he said with a frown. “Left the control room. Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “I had cramps.”
Immediately, he was alarmed. “Cramps? You didn’t tell me? I’d never have left if you told me!”
She winced at his outburst and his face softened. His thumb caressed her cheek. His panicked worry still flustered her. “It’s over. Nothing happened. It was, like, preparative?”
That didn’t relax him. His frown remained and he kept that stare up, like the hold on her face. As if he needed to hold her for certainty.
“For a moment, I feared …” he began. Shivered. He didn’t continue as he sank lower, turning to crouch before the couch and not letting go of her hand. He grasped it with both of his, and she felt it touching his brow and lips.
Here he sat crumbled in front of her and clasping her hand like a lifeline. As if she might not have been here to find - alive. Was he even shaking?
She tried to pet his head but didn’t have the reach lying down. She was dazzled. He imagining something terrible had happened to her couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes yet it stabbed him to his core. She sighed and her hand fell on her chest. The baby stirred, unconcerned. At least one of them was at peace.
Maybe it was the mission. Mare. Farley didn’t know anything about it and the tension of the battle must linger in him. He acted like pregnancy was an illness that could suddenly kill them both. She was inclined to dismiss that though – you never knew. Nobody had checked on her all day, not even to inform her about the accomplished mission as she’d requested. It both angered and chilled her. It was as she suspected and feared – she had to function or she didn’t matter.
In the end, she preferred Shade’s fussing.
This wouldn’t do, and her appetite was returning. She wriggled the pillow away and then slid, ungracefully, off the couch to squat beside him. That startled him.
“Dee? Don’t –”
She put a finger on his mouth. “I’m okay because you came back to me.” Although in this position, she noticed something had changed. Thanks to the cramps, the weight of her womb sat lower. “If I feel bad, you can jump me right to the infirmary.” She should go there, period. She’d longed to be alone and lie down but what if the cramps had affected the baby? She’d never forgive herself to have waited. It was like the very real pain had chased away her paranoia.
Shade’s eyes widened at the unlikely offer of teleporting her. He rested his forehead on hers and she hugged his back, grasping his shoulders as if to claim him as hers. Her hands moved along with his heavy breathing. She needed to feel his presence as much as he needed hers.
“I think,” she began, “we can walk to the infirmary to be sure.”
Shade sighed loudly. “Can you?”
“We can try.”
He nodded slowly, then turned to her belly. “Don’t worry us like that,” he said to the baby.
“It’s not its fault,” she disagreed. “My body does that work.”
He gasped, caught off guard, and then – finally – his mouth formed almost a smile. “I’ll help you,” he said and carefully, they rose.
To no one’s surprise, she was a bit shaky on her feet. He stabilized her, and she fell against his chest. “You still haven’t told me about the mission,” she murmured.
He kissed her temple, fingers stroking her hair and back in an embrace. “It went well.”
That was all? Perhaps he also began to spare her now. But she could pester him later, because relief won over the need for details.
“And Mare? Losses?” That wasn’t a detail.
He altered his stance, to meet her eyes. “Mare is with us.”
Farley grinned like a fool and he grinned right back. How that elated her. She grabbed the fabric of his shirt. “I want to see you tell her you got me with child.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I thought we agreed we did it together?”
“We can be embarrassed together.”
He sobered. “Nothing embarrassing about it.”
Then he had a different recollection of all those times they told people. Delusions. Yet. Maybe he meant something else. His hand was on her belly again, right when the baby moved and he felt it, too. She saw his gladness, as well as excitement.
“I won’t leave you again,” he repeated with determination. A promise. She believed to find something important had shifted in him.
“Let’s go,” she said, not letting go of his arm to whole way to the infirmary. Mare lingered there, tapping her feet, likely waiting for something or someone.
“Mare, I’m sorry I just vanished –” Shade began but Mare didn’t hear a word as her jaw dropped at their sight.
Shade had been right. Farley didn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed this time. She was exclusively happy now Mare could be shocked by something as delightful as their baby and she laughed.
A/N 2: So, the book Shade's reading is acomaf, basically. Or an alternate universe version written a 1000 years in the future by a silver because fairy porn will never die. I'll elaborate on that in To Break A Storm.
Red Queen Fan Fiction - To Break a Storm Chapter 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
2764 words
Roman Eagrie wasn’t like other silvers. Shade watched him glide through the fortress, at silver gatherings, dinners, meetings, drills; in the offices, parlours or training yards. Always friendly and sociable. And always aloof. Even when he showed to care, considering reds like actual people, it was like proof he didn’t really give a damn.
Like he only acted out of spite, Shade suspected.
Roman riled him up, certainly. Shade couldn’t categorize him properly and that threw him off his feet. He couldn’t ignore Roman’s pull while he felt drawn into a trap.
But wasn’t he, and all the reds, trapped all along?
Shade followed and observed Roman, if only to maintain his own safety, and yet wondered how it’d be to believe. What even? That Roman was just nice?
Roman rippled the proceedings if his and Aude’s circle. He questioned how things were run yet offered to take over very little – he merely contradicted them with a smirk. At times, Shade imagined he smirked at him, in the shadows, as if they had an inside joke.
Shade remembered the cigarette they’d shared, how the trace of Roman on it didn’t taste differently than a red, and how Roman had voiced his dislike of Aude. Now Shade guessed if that had been part of the bait as well. Aude didn’t seem all that antagonistic toward Roman – Shade was stunned to glimpse the uncanny amusement on Aude’s face at Roman’s antics. Did the haughty Aude like to be challenged by her nephew? Had Roman exaggerated their rivalry in inheritance?
Roman was the son of Aude’s deceased twin brother, Edward; Roman had told him that much. His mother was Charlotte Haven, Aude’s despised sister-in-law. It left Roman the firstborn of the firstborn of Lord Julius Eagrie and heir apparent. Aude didn’t seem to take that as a valid argument, maybe because she and Edward were twins in the first place.
But it appeared like Aude spared Roman some tender feelings for her brother’s sake.
Well, it didn’t make it all that likely that she planned to have him killed, so Shade regretted to have worried about Roman’s safety. What a waste of care for a silver.
“Barrow? I told you that’s my job now?” And there he was. Roman Eagrie intercepted him on the way to the training yard, and the drill of Storm Legion, parcours this time.
Shade swallowed a sigh, gripping his papers tighter. “I’m to support you with recording during the instruction, sir.” He gazed back at Roman, without a waver.
Roman breathed out loudly. “Indeed, you have made excellent preparations and set up great templates. As the instructor, I can do the rest myself.” Switching from ease to ramrod-straight, he reached out for the papers.
Shade hesitated. Maybe he was beginning to figure it out. Silvers wanted literate reds to do the annoying bureaucratic work for them. Possible that Roman was one not content about this transition. “Will you run the drill and take notes, sir?” Shade asked innocently.
Roman’s eyebrows twitched, the only break in his more formal demeanour. “Yes,” he said. “I need you to check and order equipment.”
Shade kept his eyes on him for a second longer. To show he know that Roman had changed tack. They both knew. “Yes, sir,” he finally agreed and handed over the papers, letting go at the same time he turned to walk away. He didn’t worry. Roman would be ready not to drop them.
In fact, Roman’s presence left Shade with more spare time. He was effective, instead of disrupting activities. Perhaps Roman wasn’t that much of a force of chaos. Or, Shade allowed himself to consider, he cared enough not to make it harder for everyone.
If anything was not hard for reds conscripted to war. Then again, the same applied to Shade.
The last months, he couldn’t believe to be in this position instead of bleeding and shooting in trenches. He was too busy to keep it this way to ask what he supported. He lived, but other youths like his brothers were dying. Aude didn’t offer a glance at dead red soldiers. Nor did her lieutenants. Along with organizing the regular soldiers’ wages, it was up to Shade to write and send letters of demise and transfer money as small compensations to their families. Another task silvers must be glad to delegate to reds. They were better equipped to understand, didn’t they? So silvers weren’t confronted with grief, pain and results of their politics.
Aude had barely listened when Shade had approached the topic of sending the payments in time and in correct amount. Shade had a budget to use for the payments and couldn’t overdraw it. If the costs were bigger than the budget, he had to delay payments and Aude told him where to save. She didn’t care, ignorant of what delays meant for families in need – the soldiers were dead, in the end. Did they matter anymore?
The Storm Legion wasn’t engaged in the choke’s frontline for now, and no one had died. Would Roman grieve for the soldiers he had trained?
With his arms crossed, Shade looked down from a window at the parcours just for the end of the drill. He might curse himself later, but he didn’t have enough time to go somewhere else anyway. More bills and payments waited to be approved and fulfilled, hours of doublechecking every item ordered because Selene Eagrie had a personal paranoia about swindling traders.
Shade winced against the sunset over the training yard. One thing was being replaced, another his unsated curiosity, the urge to look Roman in the eye. From above, the soldiers and their instructor appeared all the same. A union, as even as one was running the exercise, Roman took part like one of them. An illusion, created by distance, certainly, and Shade wouldn’t fall for it. He hoped it helped his comrades to get along with their instructor, made them less afraid but prepared for the choke.
Maybe Shade was envious, too. He talked with his comrades too, of course, heard what they said about their silver officers, the fortress, the war, their daily needs. But they didn’t know what to make of Shade. They asked him for things, and also those he’d have to deny. He partook in training often enough, though in the end, he would be called back to his more important tasks on silver requests.
He had a knack to befriend people but it promised to be a hard case with Storm Legion, new people all over again who all knew him as aide. When he had arrived, he got close with Cecilia, another conscript, before he was promoted, but now she was still with Spear, their old legion, while Aude took him with her to Storm.
As Roman wrapped up, he glanced up, and Shade could’ve sworn he found him watching. He blinked and blamed it on the sun burning red behind Roman. It was time to leave.
The crimson sunset followed him the way along the main corridor around the fortress, blazing in the corner of his eye. Unnerving him, scorching the sight of Roman’s smiles into his mind, red as blood.
When he reached the stairs at one spire, the spur of the moment made him choose, differently than planned: Not up and left to Aude’s office and his broom closet of a bedroom, but down and right, to the barracks, the red living quarters. Once he decided, he accelerated from his usual swift walk into a run. He couldn’t be fast enough, and it came so oddly easy to him. It was like he competed with the sunset, needing to keep up with it to complete his plan. It didn’t matter anyway – if he procrastinated his leftover tasks now, a few seconds wouldn’t save him from finishing them in the night or morning instead.
Maybe he only wanted to enjoy the sunset when it was so beautiful. Not the overcast, smog-and-dust-filled grey that eternally drowned the sky over Corvium. It was an urge, a reminder he couldn’t name. As he arrived at Spear Legion’s dorm, the sun had already sunk beneath the horizon, leaving the sky in a bruised teal, green and dark blue. The last light of dusk clung to him as he entered, panting.
Few soldiers were there, barely paying him attention. Shade released a breath in relief. It was awkward to meet the comrades of his former legion, the one he’d first joined under Aude’s command. He had been taken along with the general, transferred to Storm, leaving many behind. He kept scanning the hall, more living room than dorm as the beds were in smaller rooms adjoining, searching for someone he knew.
If she isn’t here, I’ll look for my brothers. He should’ve gone for Bree and Tramy first, having not seen them for so long, though a visit daunted him for precisely that reason. He didn’t know what to say to them. But to Cecilia, he was always comfortable to talk to or hang out with. He crossed the hall and was about to turn around when Cecilia came out of her bedroom.
“Hi!” he greeted her enthusiastically and then laughed at himself.
She snorted and hugged him, equally glad. The first glance at her revealed a somber expression.
Shade and Cecilia had been conscripted and brought to Corvium at the same time last March, just a year ago. They shared basic training and both joined Spear Legion. Helplessly, they’d clung to each other on the first deployments on the battlefield, before Shade was recruited as aide and Cecilia as a medic.
Still, it left them working together, as Shade coordinated the operation and recorded their losses and injured, as well as providing Cecilia’s resources. Their comrades were killing and surviving, as he and Cecilia had to take care of those who failed. Witnessing the worst, the dismembering, the lost limbs, the blood, the bodies. Cecilia had to drag off unconscious soldiers bigger than herself, looking after the gravest wounds, all while the enemy kept attacking. Often, she was in no less danger those at the guns.
Cecilia leaned back, still squeezing Shade’s arm as she took him in. “Come,” she said, “let’s sit down, though we have no coffee left.”
Shade swallowed, realizing it meant a lack of provisions. He could ask for something else, but understood the frustration she implied.
She seemed well though, even if weary. The low light of the lamps warmed her dark skin, her long pristine braids swung as she walked. Shade had never seen her braids anything other than perfect – she’d soon met other black soldiers who helped each other with braiding. Taking care of her hair prevented officers from demanding a military crop like Shade had undergone, to his regret. To Cecilia, keeping her long hair meant keeping a part, a feminine one, of herself intact when war reigned over their bodies and minds.
As they sat down at a unpractically round table, Cecilia spoke up. “Many are off to settle their business before we go to the choke tomorrow.”
Shade startled, deep shocked. “Tomorrow? But nothing was planned for weeks.” Command of the legion was switched in so little time that he hadn’t expected changes of decisions to this degree.
“Under Eagrie, yes.” Cecilia offered a defeatist shrug. “New general Lerolan has other opinions.”
Shade tried his best to suppress his shiver. He hadn’t had to hide his emotions from Cecilia before, but was now unsure if his rage would only take her further down. His transfer had disrupted even their friendship. He’d still be present at the choke as aide, but less on the direct front as she would be, and what Aude intended to do with the rarely deployed Storm legion, he had still no idea.
And he was no less afraid for Cecilia who was to go without him at her side.
He took his friend’s hands. “You know how it is,” he said quietly. “Did it all before.”
“Sure,” she agreed, and angled her head with a fake smile.
Shade inclined his head. “Spear was merged with General Lerolan’s Stone Legion.”
“With his depleted Stone legion.” She raised her eyebrows. “You know a lot.”
Well, that was the least he could do. Knowledge was his job and he gathered what he could find, but he wouldn’t drill this in. “Do the legions merge well?”
Cecilia’s face remained unmoving, emotionless. Her lips parted, then hesitated.
If General Lerolan’s legion was depleted, it doesn’t look auspicious for his new soldiers, Shade concluded.
Cecilia didn’t voice that, didn’t confirm the suspicion, just shook herself in a display of relaxing. “Killing is surviving is winning, right?” she said.
He nodded, resisting to glance down, meeting her eyes as she pretended her undaunted confidence. They were both aware her behaviour was a show but Shade understood. It was a part of reassuring oneself. She returned his squeeze of her hands in reply. “Remember when I brought the lakelander to first aid by accident?”
He did. He’d tried to help her disguise her “mistake” of helping the enemy, planning to pass the women off as a prisoner. “She died,” he said. That had left their attempts unnecessary.
A heavy silence fell as Cecilia paused. “But I did tell the general. When you were elsewhere again. She said we don’t take prisoners. No reds, at least. Then she ordered me to kill the woman.” Cecilia swallowed as Shade’s blood froze. “I wanted to tell her to do it herself. Ask her how. With a knife? Opening her wounds? Injecting air in her veins although I didn’t know painful that may be?” She shook her head, her eyes shimmering. “I knew Eagrie wouldn’t want me to waste painkillers and somehow, I agreed. Couldn’t bring myself having to deny them to our own soldiers. The woman was barely conscious, not aware where she was, but she must’ve had an inkling I was supposed to help her.” She closed her eyes, pausing. Opening them again, she went on. “In the end, I did nothing. Left her to die. Still, her blood was all around me. Red as mine.”
Shade’s gaze had never left hers. All four of their hands joined, they finally broke eye contact, foreheads touching.
There was nothing to say. He understood. That was what “winning” meant. And surviving. It was a sick, rotting thing.
Cecilia sniffed, leaning back. Fingers swiped at tears that had never fallen. “I’ve wanted to meet lakelanders since. Talk to them. Remind myself I don’t see them as enemy monsters but just like me.”
Her brown eyes spoke a message he struggled to decode. “I understand. I … I’m curious, too.” Was admitting this already treason? But it was freeing to say after the horror Cecilia had conjured.
Cecilia offered a weak smile, back to her pretense. “Then, until we meet again. Don’t make me wait too long for it.”
“Promise,” he replied, forcing a smile. “Good luck.”
That night, he pounded the numbers and names on the remaining bills to work off into his head. He scanned the papers until he forgot all else, so long his eyes fell shut and he eventually retired. And yet, his sleep remained fitful, waking sweaty and too early, barely rested, because he had to. He made himself finish the task, pulling himself together with willpower. Shade wouldn’t underestimate willpower.
Only it also strengthened his own will.
As he went to drop or send off or archive the papers, he didn’t stand still. He merely took the chance to look outside, away, into the woods beyond the fortress. It was early morning still, many activities dormant yet. Lack of sleep left him with a slot of time to himself, too. Somewhere, cooks would prepare food or soldiers run for their lives but here, Shade was alone, calm, like in the eye of a storm.
The walls were pressing on him and again, he wanted out, more and more often. This morning, no sunrise greeted him, no lively red dawn unlike the sunset last evening. The sky had lit yet stayed grey, overcast, thick. No colours to disguise the smog and odours of bodies, weapons, explosions.
Here, it was strangely quiet. Inside his head, he almost heard the noises of the battles he’d survived. He was sick thinking about Cecilia getting ready. Shade wished to walk until he breathed fresh air again. No, not walk. Just get away. Look into her eyes once more to see she was alive. It was impossible. So he did the only thing to compare.
Getting lost in exertion had to help, a similar kind of focus to forget as last night, as well as an illusion to reclaim his body.
He strode into the training yard and met Roman Eagrie, alone, to his surprise.
are you done with the fade oneshots? I loved them💜
Aww, thank you! Always glad to receive feedback and see people enjoying my work *__*
I wouldn't say I'm done with anything - I could always write another one-shot. But while I wrote a lot in 2016 to 2019 one can check out here, I've been less inspired since then and the ideas I do have might not be easy to shape into a (short) story. I'll focus now on To Break a Storm (which will have Fade), but I'll never let go of Fade or possible one-shot ideas.
Red Queen Fan Fiction - To Break a Storm Chapter 1
February 2nd – Happy Birthday, Shade Barrow!
A/N: Coming together with the ten-year anniversary of Red Queen, I return to the beginning with a new fan fic series – To Break a Storm! Meet Shade before the start of Red Queen navigating the Corvium garrison and the trenches of the Choke as the aide to a silver general. How does one survive against superpowers and oppression? With guile, rebellion or the secret talents Shade only begins to dive in?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
Chapter 1
Today, she was to be called Lady Aude. The General Aude Eagrie discarded her uniforms and had her badges reattached to a sash while Shade had to provide her with gown and jewels – fortunately, only from storage, not making him buy them. Asking his general for money was a dare on its own, fulfilling her demands with pushing and insistence was enough of an ordeal. Getting her fancy attire from the storage in Rocasta 50 kilometres away from Corvium in a few hours was a sudden upheaval of plans that set her staff aflutter. Though, it infected all of the Corvium garrison, not just General Eagrie’s circle. The queen was visiting, and every silver wanted to kiss her – metaphorical – ass to win royal favour. It was merely especially pressing for the general as she already had a confirmed meeting with Queen Elara and planned to host a royal feast.
Shade, as her aide, found it easy enough to acquire the food and dishes, if only because the general’s silver aides had already won the game against the other silver officers to take charge of a common dinner. Shade had just to wave a paper around in the kitchen. Not that the paper meant all that much. Too many of the red staff, like most of those his parents’ age, couldn’t read well. That silvers deigned to improve red education was a boon Shade wasn’t sure to feel glad or ashamed about.
He loved to read and write, to find a well of words, knowledge and ideas on his own and use them. But as he trained his mind, it created a rumbling in him like distant thunder, when he couldn’t help asking, why only for me, and not before?
He could, no, was expected to give commands in the general’s name. He tried to stand and move evenly and firmly, clear his face of emotions as he did so. Give nothing away, not to reds resenting you for your safe and favoured position, not to silvers derailing you anyway. Be dignified, with the grace of hidden pride like the stylist Suzanne Ripley he’d called on to prepare the general for her royal dinner.
He managed it. He hated it.
Upon entering the general’s rooms, Suzanne curtseyed as effortlessly as in rehearsed motion and went to work. She was so perfectly at ease like she wasn’t daunted at all.
The general was already in her dress, a sleeveless white A-line with black printing and embroidery highlighted with clear gemstones. White and black were her Eagrie house colours, but her pattern were not pretty flowers or orderly stripes. The irregular and wild black shapes resembled clouds or smoke, a darkening sky before the storm. As severe as herself. The general was in her fifties and cared little for fashion beyond what her authority required. Her body was still athletic and fast, her brown arms leanly muscled.
Shade stood in the living room’s corner as Suzanne finished pinning up the general’s wavy black hair, using jewellery. The general wasted no time getting up as Suzanne stepped back, striding out and Shade followed. Of course. General Eagrie was an eye, foreseeing the immediate future. She knew what you’d do before you did. It made her the picture of grace as she treated you like air. That didn’t mean she thought you were air – she expected you to do your job anyway, often without words, as if everyone was as prescient as herself.
Sometimes, Shade could wing it by doing as she did, as the general knew best. That seemingly applied today as well. Moments after General Eagrie, Lady Aude, found her spot to greet the queen in the fortress’s great hall and nodded off the banquet preparations, Elara Merandus arrived.
In a uniform. With just one attendant instead of a whole retinue.
The silvers, at the table but rising for the queen, blinked around. Shade had learned to keep still.
“Lady Aude,” the queen said as the general curtseyed. “You have a feast planned?” the queen went on as if she didn’t know this was prepared for her. “Then let us finish this matter quickly in your office and you can return to your party.”
To her credit, the general didn’t look completely offended. But the whisper queen must be reading all her rage in her head anyway. With delight, probably.
Maybe she even read how this thought crossed Shade’s mind before he reminded himself to meditate on the tiles he stood on. Or a red like him was beneath her notice as the general marched off behind the queen.
Shade waited in the general’s living room after her lieutenant Selene Eagrie had called the diners to begin, if they hadn’t lost their appetites, or hoped for the queen to mingle for casual company. Cancelling it completely would be a sign of defeat and Aude Eagrie couldn’t have that. She would’ve liked to, though, as she threw her jewellery around the room as she arrived.
“Storm legion,” she cried to her second and right hand, Tayfun Iral, rushing in after her. “I wanted command of Corvium and what do I get? A no-name legion while letting go off the one I trained years to succeed.”
“We’ll have to establish what other orders Elara brought,” Iral said.
The general nodded, taking a seat before her vanity and sparing a glare at Shade. He’d already missed the moment. He glided to her and helped her remove her attire. Or rather she removed it and he put it away. He glanced at the spot where she threw her necklace, reminding himself to find a second to pick it up later. Just now, he was busy getting up and opening her making removal kit to hand her cotton pads.
“It’s all Charlotte’s fault,” the general complained. “My bloody sister-in-law pissed off the queen again and Elara gleefully takes it out on her relations.” The general dropped the cotton pad and fixed her gaze on her face in the mirror. Green eyes as brilliant as emeralds stared at themselves. What did they see, looking at themselves in stillness?
Nothing was a surprise to the general that happened directly in front of her but it only increased the terror of the unknown further afield, such as today’s.
A woman and soldier of her age should be able to deal with the results of her hubris.
The stillness must be her method to calm herself. “I could recruit Charlotte’s bastard girl again,” the general said quietly after a while.
“I’ll send for her,” Iral agreed, relieved about the general’s resolve. He saluted and Shade had just found the bloody necklace right when Iral called for him. “Barrow, you can serve in the hall and observe conversations,” Iral commanded.
He nodded and saluted, bowing to the general and dropping the necklace in a case. At least Tayfun Iral talked to him, aware of his usefulness, sometimes even explaining things. Shade could guess they wanted to know if the silvers gossiped with the queen about the general or if anyone else was promoted. Almost out of the door, Shade asked Iral, “could it really be about Charlotte?”
A hiss passed his ear before a pain burned in his cheek like a flash.
A dagger had hit the wall in front of him. “Barrow,” the general said, “a silver lady is not just ‘Charlotte’ to a red rat like you.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “Remember your station.”
Shade used the dark sleeve of his uniform to swipe the bleeding wound in his cheek. But it was too late, and not enough. His red blood was the reminder of who he was. “Apologies, madam,” he replied with a salute and left to his work.
Despite the implied demotion, Aude was determined to examine her new force the next two weeks. Shade did it for her. It was one of his tasks to collect data and present the summaries and results to Aude, whether by attending drills or going through the army records. He considered it one the perks of his positions, as it offered Shade to research Aude’s other issues and also to check on his brothers Bree and Tramy.
They weren’t in the Storm legion, had never had any connection to it. But as Shade looked up the legion’s deployments, numbers, successes, losses and fallen, he searched for his brothers as well. It assured him they were still alive not too injured or ill to be withdrawn. Yet it told him nothing about their experiences, how they felt, what they saw or endured on scales not impacting their fighting ability. Silvers didn’t keep records of red pain. As much as he reaped the advantages of his job, it ate him up as well as time and chances to visit his brothers, to talk to or hug them. He hated what kept them apart. He not so much yearned to escape but to step over the chasms between them.
Today a training was scheduled with the Storm legion. It was non-descript indeed. They were rarely sent to the hardest battles in the trenches of the Choke, and had little winnings to show either way. Yet with this miniscule activity, they presented a surprisingly high number of losses, whatever caused them.
One more matter consuming his attention were the Eagrie family ties he finally deemed unavoidable after the Lady Aude attacked him. Guessing wasn’t enough, but soldier records hardly included family trees and gossip provided few gems and partial knowledge that gave insecure help without the full story.
He gathered the papers for the drill; he was already running late. Aude’s expectations of timeliness applied to everyone although at least it was something to rely on. He dashed from the records office to the training yard, barely noticing his way until the glaring eye of Aude’s other lieutenant fell on him as he arrived. The lieutenant had a way of turning her head to him like an owl. No wonder, as she was also prescient. Selene Eagrie, his research said, was Aude’s twenty years younger half-sister. They looked nothing alike as Selene was pale with dirty blond hair, with a hint of red, and muddy hazel eyes. Their father was Lord Julius Eagrie, the head of the house, and married for the third time. Aude had six siblings who might all be married with children to whoever the fuck. He’d grunted as he realized the bottomless well this promised to be.
Aude’s main second and first lieutenant was Tayfun Iral, a maternal cousin. He shared Aude’s colouring with brown skin and black hair but not the brilliantly green eyes – those were special. “I have my father’s eyes,” Aude said once with meaning, although, as Shade had gleaned, the colour had little to with strength of ability. That was just a regularly treasured family heritage.
Now all three of them were seated on the elevated platform by the yard, to Shade’s surprise. The Eagrie sisters avoided the drills in most cases. He figured it bored them, already knowing what moves the soldiers would make, or who’d win in sparring. Therefore, usually an instructor lead the exercises as Shade watched and wrote down the gist of it while Aude, Tayfun and Selene sparred with one another, in matches more equal and unpredictable. Iral silks were so fast and hard to catch that foreseeing was a limited advantage and vice versa. Shade had seen them once and made it his matter to guard his face even better than usual. Aude was his parents’ age but despite her 50 years of honing her body for battle, she displayed perfect skill. Spry as a deer and fierce as a wildcat while the war had left Shade’s father so injured he lost a leg and half his lungs. Whereas Aude’s every bruise must be skinhealer-treated to let her remain this athletic.
Maybe Aude planned to make a show to her new soldiers to properly intimate them. For now, the center of her attention was a new instructor. A tall man in training slacks running the drill. Aude nodded it off as her focus stayed on the instructor. Shade followed suit in concentrating on the instructor as Aude’s thoughts stayed indecipherable. The man was leanly muscled and even taller than Shade’s brothers, over 1,9 meters. His spiky black hair cut a sharp silhouette against the white late winter sky. He stood straight yet playful, with an easiness to his demeanour.
“Do one on ones now, Roman,” Aude ordered then, later switching to group battles and varying the sizes of opposing teams. Instructor Roman would correct their moves or fight himself, against several soldiers.
His advice seemed earnest, but he took none of the battles seriously. It was all about the lessons, Shade reminded himself and made his notes, yet he itched to assess Roman’s strength. He was the new element to figure out. After a while, Aude had Shade take part in the drill and he hurried to fall into the exercise and team rhythm, watching his comrades, watching the officers, watching Roman, until it was his turn to fight the instructor.
As they faced off, Shade stood still and met Roman’s pitch-black eyes. With an incline of their heads, they began to move, circling each other before the attack. The instructor’s breathing had become heavier, due to the on-going drill, and his bare brown underarms showed he was cold from the weather, yet hot from the exertion.
Shade charged first, and Roman evaded as expected. Shade followed with another kick that took more time to avoid, but Roman jumped aside with no effort. As Shade had observed, Roman seldom attacked unless to uncover a glaring miss of defense, and Shade wouldn’t let this happen at all costs. He wanted to make Roman attack, though in another way, and so he tried a few dirty moves which only earned him a smirk.
Daring, he had to be daring, yet it might turn into showing a glaring miss of defense. No matter. He only had to be surprising enough. He went down to get Roman off his feet, but Roman cartwheeled away. Shade rolled aside and got up but now it was Roman’s time to retaliate. Already, Shade believed to feel the hit on his back when he’d spun around, in the perfect position to go for Roman’s neck. And so he did.
Roma caught his hand just after Shade touched his skin. He blinked, irritated by the defeat, and squeezed Shade’s hand, locking his gaze.
Shade didn’t think to pull away.
The corners of Roman’s mouth twitched and he moved their joined hands down and before Shade knew it, they had let go. “Well done,” Roman said, as several times today.
“Sir,” Shade nodded and, forcing his lingering eyes away, returned to his post.
Afterwards, they abided in the training yard. It was a different place, with just Shade and the instructor, and Shade intended to overpaint the changed atmosphere with task following task. He’d seen off several of the soldiers, tidied, finished his statistics, as Roman controlled the rack of arms they’d exercised with later on. Weapons were a limited resource, under the responsibility of higher-ups. Even Shade needed a permit from a commanding officer to touch arms.
The work enabled him to avoid Roman as either of them maintained nonchalance unless their gazes crossed. It startled Shade every time and he felt an odd satisfaction when Roman looked away first.
It was both of them and Shade wondered why. Could he be proud to have bested the instructor who was left needled by it? He kept trying to read Roman, even as his expression stayed blank and thinking as he did his counts.
Shade could curse himself. He delayed leaving for his dissatisfied curiosity yet he didn’t trust himself to hide it – as when asking the instructor directly.
If he wanted to remain inconspicuous, he would have to wait for the next chance, he decided, as Roman spoke.
“General Eagrie is as keyed up as ever,” he said. He rested with his back against a wall, legs stretched out. He fumbled for a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep inhale. And another. Roman’s eyes found his and Shade swallowed.
“You know her longer?” Shade asked. “Sir,” he added, to stay on the safe side.
Roman looked away as Shade approached. He leaned on the wall next to Roman, but only sideways with the shoulder, to be quickly and on the run again.
“All too well,” Roman answered and sighed. Shade could watch the smoke rising in swirls from the cigarette in his hand, a hand Roman lifted for another draw. “Aude wants to be the next house head, but she’s not first in line. So she burns to impress.”
Now that was the kind of information Shade had dug for. Roman was in possession of exclusive intelligence. Or was it just a guess? One more time, Shade looked him over and when the silence lasted oddly long, he noticed that Roman had called her Aude. Out loud. Shade suppressed a frown. What did that mean?
“The general doesn’t show a setback,” Shade said, neutrally. Apart from throwing jewels and cutting me.
Now Roman swirled his hand, causing spirals of smoke in a gesture for vaguely. “She does appear pinched,” he said, and, titling his head, focused on Shade. “You stare like that. Want to try?”
Shade did, indeed, stare at the cigarette. And the smoker. And his hands. He shrugged, hoping that was reason enough to seem nervous. “Cigarettes are hard to get for reds here.”
“I’m a bit of a rule-breaker,” Roman said lightly. All of him was so lightly, lofty, almost careless. Maybe you could only say things like that lightly.
Right here, right now, Shade wanted to be the same. Just for a moment. To relax.
“It’s a special blend. My brother’s girlfriend grows it,” Roman explained. His dark eyes fixed on Shade, like a dare to sink into them. “You might not know it.”
“Please,” Shade said, and reached out, expectant. It was a dare to figure him out. When their fingers met, Shade didn’t know if the cigarette or the touch would singe him deeper. But those weren’t light thoughts. What was he thinking? He quickly took a draw he barely tasted.
“All this for a family position,” Roman said. “Warring to be able to command relatives around and anticipating her father’s death.”
Exploring the new sensation on his lips, Shade needed a moment to get he was talking again about Aude. The stuff must be strong after all. “Sil – officers have their own guidelines,” Shade replied.
“Morbid ones,” Roman muttered. “House here, family there, rank everywhere.” He’d already lit another cigarette as Shade was finishing the other. That fast? But it was only a half.
Roman didn’t appear so airy anymore. Glaring in the distance, his throat bobbed, fast, while he took several more inhales. “I came here because I couldn’t let Aude bring my sister here again.”
Shade cackled. “As if that was so easy.” Now Roman turned to him, puzzled. “I wish I could keep my sister away from the army. At most I might look out for her, but … I hardly see my brothers here either.”
Roman still stared. “It might be little help,” he agreed. “The last time, my sister almost died. With 12. I found her just fast enough, and she’d only survived so long due to her ability.”
12? Ability?
Shade wanted to blame the cigarette for every second too much he needed to connect the dots, finally. As he grasped it, he felt immediately sober. He inclined his head, calculating if he could still obfuscate his ignorance. “That’s horrible, sir.” Was the “sir” too much, a giveaway? Probably, or it had been too late anyway.
Roman flashed him a weak, almost pardoning smile. “Yes,” he said softly. “But it might work out for us after all. As I’m the heir who stands in Aude’s way.”
Roman and his sister were silvers. And for a moment, Shade was terribly afraid Aude wanted them dead.
A/N 2: The first chapter is a bit longer to get you into the story before you’ll wait for the next chapter. Ahem. And yes, this is easter-egg fanservice for my veteran readers. Thanks for your loyalty and attention <3
A/N 1: Here’s also a new story for her! Featuring Jealous Shade included for @elliemarchetti who’s been asking for this for years. Taking place during Glass Sword chapter 19.
4215 words
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
A Promise Under Flowers
Lightning surged from Mare’s hand through the sky and when it hit their silver hunters and their transports, it exploded with Cal’s fire setting them alight. Curses burned Farley’s tongue. Combined, Mare’s and Cal’s powers covered a distance that secured their escape, yet the necessity of escape meant another failure to save newbloods and their families, a loss against Maven.
Farley had stayed a little apart, up on the lookout for more enemies, gun ready. Now she joined the running team, still peeking over her shoulder as Cal and Mare reached her.
Both were out of breath yet appeared awed by their own co-work, Cal nicely rumpled and Mare frizzy with electricity, a shine in her eyes that could turn into a happy smile, if they didn’t face defeat.
Cal approached Farley, touching her arm. “It’s a trap, a tactic I recognize. We have to retreat.” Quickly, he shared rough instructions to proceed, keeping to glance at Mare. Casting aside thoughts of the newbloods they’d at best leave behind to fend for themselves, to maybe be killed or taken hostage, Cal was all professional, knowing what to say, if not for the touch of her arm. Strange he touched her, not Mare, when their longing was palpable. Yet so were the sparks around Mare. Not the time to set her on fire.
“Okay, get the Blackrun ready,” Farley concluded.
“Shouldn’t Shade be back yet?” Mare interjected.
Farley froze. She’d relaxed about him, trusting in his self-preserving ability but if the silvers set a trap, they could’ve caught him with the newbloods.
“… I should’ve gone with him,” she muttered.
Mare gestured. “We get to him now.”
She nodded even though Cal looked dubious. He shook it off; they couldn’t leave Shade behind. Farley handed him a radio. “You know our codes, message us if necessary.” He understood, adding further directions on how to move through the town.
Hopefully, Farrah and Harrick could hide the plane long enough. Hopefully, Shade was alive.
Dashing through the unknown streets was difficult enough, having to rely on the prince’s military teachings. What if Maven’s people varied the scheme? But Farley trusted Cal’s instincts, having learned his and hers worked the same way. She ran with Mare to the newbloods’ home, recalling their data. A man, 58, a woman, 29. A house on heather street. They twisted around corners and climbed fences, hoping to evade any sentinel pursuers. Fighting back would just draw more foes.
Yet as they arrived at the place, they found only two corpses, an elderly couple.
Farley cursed. She was already on the stairs when Mare called her – to the outside. She rushed away – finding Shade bloody and unconscious on a street two houses away.
“Check him!” Mare demanded in a whisper-snarl. She didn’t dare approach, again loaded with sparks. She’d planted herself on the earth to ground herself and charge off. Mare was seducingly powerful yet every day Farley witnessed how it isolated her.
Farley was already next to Shade before she realized how she’d moved there, her hand on his neck. “You promised me forever, you liar,” she hissed.
Nervously, Mare glanced around as Farley was desperate to find his pulse. “We need to get away, we should carry –”
“Before we know how injured he is?” Farley retorted. She could call Cal back, with a few others, though how long would that take? But Shade was breathing, his heartbeat singing to her. She noticed no strongly bleeding wounds yet when he finally reacted, looking into her eyes, it almost melted her heart.
“Silvers …” he groaned. “Attacked … took them out.”
Mare had finished charging herself off and risked a dash around to recon. “Two dead,” she confirmed, and joined them, gripping Shade’s hand. Her gentleness hit Farley.
“Dee,” he urged, slightly recovered. Almost more than me. Farley had to wash it off for good, he was alive.
“Yes,” she agreed, “Get us gone.” Despite their fears, he appeared relieved.
Back on the Blackrun, they could only conclude Shade fainted because of an ability, not a hit or concussion. He would not be able to teleport with such an injury, he said. But he was covered in bruises and his still healing ankle again so twisted he’d need get his crutches back. Farley was thorough with her ministrations and could hardly bring an end to them, even after checking their comrades, to Shade’s irritation.
“Don’t look at me like I might drop dead,” he chided.
Could she be sure he wouldn’t? He’d been hit by a strongarm before he jumped away to kill them and their companion.
They shouldn’t have sent him alone to gather the newbloods but their forces – if they could call them such – were spread thin with several defeats in a row, resulting in injuries, now including Shade. Farley was embarrassed his near loss affected her so, after so much death. When she tried to remember their marks that day, she couldn’t imagine the corpse seen in a hurry was the young woman on their list. Where was she, had she hidden in the town, left behind by Mare and their team, barely escaping Maven?
They didn’t have time to wonder. Mare was as protective as Farley when she pressed for another mission the next day – and leaving Shade behind. Only to arrive to dead bodies again. The day after, they were trapped by their own Whistle associate and found a whole murdered family. Mare freaked out over the dead baby so Farley could barely process it herself. Instead the memory settled in her bones and when she felt sick, it began to taste differently.
She knew she couldn’t afford to chew – or choke – on that. Even if … no matter.
Shade held her at night, aware of her own dead, and shared the weight of his. His pride gambled with his ability, letting him miss how strong he was. How fatal, like the day of his newest injury. He despised using it to kill, and did it anyway.
She could tell him there might be more than duty between them. How she wished for it. Still she let that option wither like she was afraid to answer herself.
Mare had another newblood on their list, reminding them of urgency, the chance to be quicker than Maven.
“Only after confirming his movements,” either Cal or Farley would insist each time, soon flowing back into their routines, Cal with the research, Farley maintaining the notch.
Going through the base’s corridors, she followed Nanny bringing out provisions to the rooms until she closed up to the old woman and stopped dead. “Not need to exaggerate my diligence, Nanny,” Farley called out with a chuckle when she faced her.
Wearing Farley’s features.
Nanny raised her hands, empty now. “Well, I’m done anyway.”
Farley shook her head. “Your ideas for mischief know no bounds.”
“My deceit, my dear,” Nanny countered, lifting one finger to chastise. “I am a weapon with many skills.”
“Absolutely.” Farley bit back a laugh and tucked Nanny by the sleeve. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
Nanny’s brows rose in expectation and Farley supressed her irritation about the topic, as well as facing herself. Her own surprised face was an unusual sight indeed.
Just get it done and say it.
“Your family didn’t appear on our list,” she began, “and as no newbloods, the Guard evacuated them.”
Nanny’s face clamed, waiting.
“So you never … none of them, your children, or grandchildren, showed any abilities?”
Crossing her arms, Nanny stared. “If they weren’t on your list?”
I’m not cowed by my own glare. Farley shrugged. “It was the first time anyone looked for newblood markers. They might be more to it we don’t know yet.”
“Hm.”
“No sign ever, Nanny?”
A shift moved through Nanny, having nothing to do with changing shape. Her gaze went over Farley, toe to head and when their eyes met, Farley didn’t see herself, but the old lady, giving her, undeniably, what had to be called a mom’s stare.
“Why would you, of all people, be so curious about this, Captain?”
She met her own face, so similar to her dead mother, when no had looked at her like that, with this mix of caring and teasing, for several years. Startled, Farley stepped back, barely managing to catch herself. Not fast enough. “I have to plan ahead, take responsibility,” she offered, poorly.
Now Nanny grabbed her by the arm. Her voice was quiet. “And are you doing that …?”
She only felt blood rushing to her head. She needed space to breathe, to think. Even though she knew. Looking down, she said. “I have to be sure.” In truth, she had preferred ignorance, not having to choose. Not worrying over nothing or a misassumption, or rashly reject when she craved to embrace. Not getting attached to what might get lost before it thrived.
This period of waiting should’ve ended with the dead baby yesterday.
Farley straightened, returning to business. “No need to hurry about this topic, Nanny. But if you remember anything –”
“I have no issues with my memories, ma’am.”
It pulled a chuckle from her throat. “Of course not,” she said, and turned around – to run into Shade.
Nanny laughed out loud and Farley, her hand grabbing Shade’s jacket to keep each other from stumbling, glanced back to find Nanny finally returned to her own form. “I’ve been waiting just for this,” Nanny said.
“What?”
With a pat on her shoulder, Nanny made to leave. “See true love recognize the right bride,” she whispered, as if she was narrating a fucking fairy tale.
“I’m not –”, Farley snapped but Nanny was already gone and Shade, right in front of her, blinked as he stabilized his footing, even as he had let go of one crutch.
“What was that?” he asked.
“She –” Farley gathered her bearing, helping him put weight off his weak side. She shook her head, taking Shade’s free hand. “She was delighted to test if you could tell us apart.”
“Hm.” He freed his hand and raised it, his fingers gliding, awfully slow, to her jaw, cupping it as if to inspect her to be sure. An excited shiver ran through her. “The face is flawless, now that you say…” He smirked and one long finger lifted her by the chin so her mind went through the times those fingers made her body sing. His face inched forward, neither closing the distance to a kiss, nor finishing his sentence.
She fixed his eyes in return and that was all they did for then, a pull that froze time.
She swallowed eventually and felt his fingers twitch in reply, his thumb stroking her jawline. She indulged to stay in the frozen moment, to sink into his amber eyes and drink the longing shining in them. “You can have me in whichever way you want,” she said.
His fingers twitched and he blinked. He didn’t retreat but time went on again.
She frowned, stepping back and glancing away, reaching for the dropped crutch. “Did you walk here?” she asked as she handed it to him.
“No, I …” Awkwardness had fallen between them and Farley regretted her advance. It had felt so true to her. In that moment, it was the one right thing she wanted to say. Was it wrong?
Shade pulled himself together, fixing his hold on the crutches. “I teleported. So I cheated, I guess, Jumped straight to you, rather than Nanny.”
Farley nodded, already moving away, back to her lists, preparations and schedules. And yet. “You couldn’t tell us apart by sight?”
He only smiled. It was a promise.
One duty pursued the next. When Farley wasn’t checking the notch and its inhabitants, she organized their training, looked for news on Maven’s movements and assaults, relocated people and ordered their resources. Another assignment loomed for the evening, Mare insisted on it. No one could talk her out of any of them, and what could Farley say? Gathering intel before striking was the only reasonable argument. She already had a hard time moving on from the people they failed to save. She understood Mare’s rush, knew how it was to prefer the fire of action over freezing hesitation – until it burned you.
The demand of their work began to sizzle, she realized even as she went through several lists at the same time just checking their food supplies before the operation. She needed the mundane distraction of it. The sight of that dead baby … it had hit Mare more than anything else in the last weeks. When they’ found it. Afterwards, Mare had returned to steel. That shocked Farley. That moment, Farley’s battle mind was still on as she urged Mare to escape. Only later, the memory made her sick as it ate through her, mixing with her own worries. To witness Mare do the opposite was unsettling.
Farley could be distantly pragmatic in the heat of adrenaline and necessity, and she’d repeated the drill countless times in the last 5 years – ignoring her heart. And her heart, horrifyingly, wondered what would be if she saw her own family slaughtered again. Her own child, that might not exist. She couldn’t even start to imagine. Wouldn’t she be better off without? Yet she found no relief in discovering to be mistaken, only plummeting loneliness.
Meanwhile, Mare moved on, striding into mission after mission like it was the sole thing to do. Maybe it was. Didn’t Farley do the same, filling every minute with work –
“I can take it from here.”
Farley’s head spun to Ada, joining her in the food stash. “I have my system.”
Ada chuckled, taking her by the shoulders. “Yes, I’ve figured it out.”
“You … of course you did.” Farley shook her head. Ada resembled Shade, in the way she glided through their unjust world proudly, with a powerful secret. And Ada was smarter than everyone else, too. She had these perfect manners that flustered Mare, Shade and Kilorn sometimes, but not Farley. Ada’s formality paired with her skills made her the queenliest person Farley could imagine.
She sighed, putting down her pen and papers. “You don’t need to double check.”
Ada merely smiled. “No need to double check,” she agreed, brushing Farley’s arm. “But about the Blackrun …”
“Yes, the Blackrun.” Farley rolled her eyes. “Good I didn’t plan for a break.”
“Glad to share work with you, Captain,” Ada said in goodbye.
A queen indeed, commanding and delegating.
Since the operation was already scheduled, Mare didn’t hound her to argue for it. It was a poor relief, aware that Mare had her expectations anyway. Maybe she was training instead, improving what she and Cal and the other newbloods developed as combo attacks, a thrilling advantage against silvers. Meanwhile, Farley was backup, in this case inspecting the Blackrun for water, armour, weapons, clothes, first-aid-kits, maps, cleaning – with the plane newly daily in use, someone had to take care of this. Just get this done and she could have an early meal and catch a nap. Securing the last first-aid-kit, she stepped on the ramp when a gush tickled her neck.
She spun to find Shade, reclined on a seat, legs stretched out.
He looked up to her, both wired and exhausted. “You have a moment?”
She breathed out. “For you, of course.”
He pointed to his injured leg. “I tried to convince Mare to take me along tonight but she refused.”
“And I should check if you’re healed enough to prove her wrong?”
He shrugged. “Please.”
With a tsk, she retrieved the first-aid-kit and crouched in front of him. The thing was so necessary it was already back in use. “I’m not sure who’s more protective of the other,” she muttered as she delicately undressed his foot, bending it slightly in all directions.
“And where do you fit in?” he asked. His fingers tapped on his knee.
“Being objective, I hope. So Mare believes me and you listen.”
“Oh no, you never tease me at all, don’t you?” he taunted.
Her head jerked up from removing his bandages. “What?” Of course she did, joking with him, but obviously so. She was as honest as she could … dare.
“You totally flustered me before, you know, don’t you?” Shade said.
She swallowed. “I …”
“Saying things like that ... what was that supposed to mean? What do you expect me to do?” He was genuinely upset and yet – it felt like rejection. She had meant it, baring her heart. But what each of them understood was another matter.
She continued her examination, testing his bare ankle now. He winced. “I’m … sor – sad to have confused you.” She held on to his ankle, drawing circles on his skin. She had spoken true, and now had to search for other words. She wasn’t sorry, didn’t want to apologize.
She looked up. “I don’t expect anything of you, that’s what I meant. I’d be … glad to hear your wishes. Try them out.” Back to bandaging, she gathered the supports he needed and started rewrapping.
He grunted. “That’s not what I got. I thought, ‘what could she want, this gorgeous older woman? What could she know that I have no idea of? Have I not been enough?’”
“Shade.” Even as she raised her head, she was flushing hot. Could he really have understood the opposite?
His fingers stopped their drumming, reaching for her hand on his leg. “You must have an idea of how impressive you are. Tall, beautiful, strong, a soldier brave and cunning.” He grimaced. “Scary. And experienced.” Meeting her eyes, he froze – and swallowed. “I mean, I didn’t know if you’d even notice me … as a flirt. And you didn’t, for long. I thought you must have lovers in the Scarlet Guard, most of all –”, he took a breath. “You’re so… stunning. How would I compare?”
Listening with growing surprise, she squeezed his hand to end his ramblings. “But I’m not. Experienced. Not in that way.” His eyes widened and she leaned back, crossing her arms. “Yet, aren’t you? From what Mare and Kilorn say?”
“Um.”
“Are they wrong?” She pinned him with a glare. It was uncomfortable and they had to get through this. Be honest, righting misassumptions.
Finally, he breathed out. “I’ve flirted. Kissing. Hookups. Pining. A boyfriend when I was 16. But nothing … out of the ordinary.” His face burned as much as hers. “And you … you were a long chase.” He smiled.
Softened, she inclined her head. “Because I need to. To be … chased.” She let the word hang on her tongue, testing it.
It was accurate enough.
“I’ve admired my girlfriend Giselle for 4 years before I realized I was in love with her. Even longer before we became a couple. After we broke up …” Death. Homelessness. Loss. The Cause. “I focused on the Guard for 4 years. I didn’t want anyone, even when I had sex two times.”
She’d engaged when her comrades celebrated, reciprocated flirting, even kisses at times, and when her arousal aligned with the occasion, she had taken to bed a woman, a man. And yet, despite those seconds of pleasure, she’d registered no desire for her partner, no lasting wish to be with any person, to do it again. She came to conclude her arousal showed as a physical need, a bodily function in line with her cycle she would better take care of herself, like hunger or thirst.
Only Shade had left her divided, confusing her heart so she assumed it a liar. She used to know the truth: Live for the fight.
“In several years,” Farley said, “I’ve only desired to be with you, to touch you, stay with you, wishing for more. You were a risk I had to figure out. And you waited for me as I took time, didn’t let go when I needed a tether. You took me as a I am and yet you changed me, so I wanted to gamble. You challenge me, all the time, and I want you to keep doing it. In every way.” Their eyes fixed on each other, piercing so hard Shade blushed deeply with the insinuation.
He bent forward and touched her shoulder. “But if you don’t like it?”
She snorted, relaxing her posture. “I suppose scary me will say no then. Or if you’re not good at it,” she added quietly.
That took him aback. “And that’s what I meant! Would I meet your expectations? Get close to you when you’re already close with so many others? Was I to your taste? I noticed you liked me, but in what way? Was I a fool to you? You were so easy with Tristan, so naturally physical I thought you must have been a couple forever. How could I ever be what he already was to you? I wondered how I compared to him every time he talked to me. I didn’t have his muscles, am smaller, thinner, can’t carry you or lift you against a wall – why are you looking like that?!”
She had failed to avoid an aghast expression, causing Shade’s suspicion. With a sigh, she reached for his hand yet needed to gather herself before meeting his eyes, “We’re being true today, aren’t we?” she said. “I’ve been with someone else once, but … also with Tristan.”
Shade looked like he’d been stabbed, to her embarrassment. He’d been right with his worries but also … not. “Like, for an hour, and didn’t care to repeat it, ever again.”
It hardly helped, his shock was too great. He must not have expected to have been right. “You and him …” Shade shook his head. “You were so easy-going, trusting, touching all the time …”
Farley sat up, cupping his cheek. “Because there was no desire between us. We … tried, and didn’t want that. We moved beyond it. If we could do that, part ways and still work together …”
“Do that …” Shade repeated and she didn’t like to think about the pictures in his head now. Her hand brushed his skin, and she added her other to play with his soft, ever-growing hair.
“Have you not listened?” she whispered, and pulled more sweet nothings from thin air. "You're so handsome, your sight gets me through the day, until I can't bear any minute I'm not touching you ..." Her words, her touch, sharing breaths, she put all in to dissemble his jealousy until he recovered, clasping her wrists and finally realizing how near she was, close enough to kiss. He almost did, leaning back at the last moment. “I get it,” he whipered.
Their foreheads touched, even as a shiver ran through him and he cleared his throat. “All this about a dead man,” he muttered.
That erased the foolishness of the moment. Farley held on to him tighter, grounded again on the Blackrun’s floor, waiting for a mission to start, with him, injured.
“Can’t have you end like that as well,” she murmured.
“So you finally promise to not get me killed?” he replied, breaking away to find her gaze.
Her cheek twitched. “Well, in this case, I can’t let you join today,” she said. “You still wince from your aches with every move and your ankle should rest another day or three.”
He groaned, his posture slumping. “If you, Mare and the rest look after yourselves.”
She shifted, fingers combing through his hair to cup the back of his head. Now he glanced up to her. “You don’t look enough after yourself. Almost like I can’t leave you alone.”
With a self-deprecating smile, he closed his eyes. “But you can’t say I’m a terrible soldier in every way.” His eyes opening, he added, “I’d ask for something to look forward to, but this wrecked” – he grimaced – “I’m not sure what I can offer.”
She sucked in a breath at his tease. “Your mouth will do,” and while she blushed, he giggled at the – unintended – double-meaning.
Fingers traced her face again. “In every way, you said,” he said, considering. “I’ll tell you an idea, for the time being.” Gliding off the seat, he sank to his knees and embraced her waist.
“In May, on your birthday, when lilac and wisteria bloom, I will find you, lured by the violets in your eyes, into a porch under the flowers whose shadows throw intricate patterns on your skin, tangled with your curls. I’ll kiss you, on the cheek, and trace the blossoms’ shadows down your neck, your breasts, your legs, your belly and – enveloped in their scent – I will taste what’s sweeter: the bloom or the flowers between your thighs.
“Do you like that?”
She’d forgotten everything but his voice and the images he created, despite the stress she’d felt this day, no, the last weeks. When she regained words, she answered, “It’s enough for now.” What a dream that was, to think of seven months from now. That was as good as forever but time and space left as they kissed. She wished he’d always chase her like this.
A/N 2: I’ve wanted to explore Farley being demi for a while since I do think it fitting her yet I was also irked that the label would mark her as a widowed mother who should stay chaste, faithful and single forevermore. I’ve written other stories where she doesn’t do that so it appears balanced to me telling it this way, just adding another angle to her. Writing this for her birthday, I’ve listened about 800 times to my number one Fade song, Lacey Sturm’s “Faith”, for inspiration, and heavily referenced it in the story. It still hits me. I love these two so much.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
February 2nd - Happy Birthday, Shade Barrow!!
A/N 1: The deeper I thought about writing more Imagine Shade Was Still Alive stories, I realized I had to confront a certain aspect that soon revolved a specific image (guess which). This alternate concept takes place roundabout the King’s Cage chapters 16/17 (stress on alternate – I picked a date here but I can only assume when exactly it was in KC so the changes make it happen right then 😉).
Now in full length here on tumblr!!
Find this on Wattpad
Hidden Intentions
This door posed no resistance. Voices drifted through and became louder as Shade jumped inside, cleaving to the corner of the room as he counted three persons sitting on a bed crammed into an office.
“… You’re sure this works? It’s not too demanding?”
“It was your idea to ask, I just saw to it!” A helpless laugh escaped her throat and Shade startled as he recognized his sister. Before her brown eyes found him, the third touched her hand, winning her attention.
“I’ve checked the supplies myself, we can do it,” the third, Cameron, agreed. She smiled at his sister who, despite smiling back, looked up just enough to notice him.
Their gazes locked, freezing them both yet likely for very different reasons.
Shade sank into her eyes, wanted to. To see her safe, to see her at all, and, for the fragment of a heartbeat, to imagine Gisa’s eyes, so similar, were those of Mare who had been a hostage for three months now.
“What are you doing here …?” Gisa whispered and truth be told, he could’ve asked her the same. But no one replied as Gisa started to giggle like a fool, a habit that felt so awfully normal like home that it hurt.
Everyone was blushing as his entry became obvious to the other two, also the first speaker, who finally turned her head over her shoulder, not the least bit surprised to see him. “That’s inaccurate,” Diana said. “The real question is, what took him so long?” She smirked at him yet despite her amused tone, worry showed in her frown that Gisa and Cameron couldn’t see from this angle.
An angle, he couldn’t help noticing, becoming her marvellously with the way her chin-long curls framed her cheek. No, he wasn’t beyond being left speechless by her beauty when she glowed like this. He had no idea how long the awkward silence lasted until he snapped out of it and stepped over, resting his hand on Diana’s shoulder before she rose and went to him.
After quickly exchanging glances, strangely nervous, Cameron and Gisa jumped up, shoving together the papers on the bed. Diana slammed shut the folder and Gisa hugged him.
“I’m glad to see you”, he told her quietly although he still didn’t know what she did here in the Rocasta base, so near to military operations.
“So am I,” Gisa replied, released him and left, taking Cameron by the hand.
“What was going on here?” he asked as he dropped behind Diana on the bed, unstrapping his boots.
“Classified information,” she answered but he heard – she couldn’t hide it from her tone, he knew her well enough now – that she wasn’t all business. He snorted, done with the shoes, and inched closer until their legs met and his chest was to her back.
She sighed, but his digging she must’ve expected didn’t come. Indeed, he didn’t care, not right now. What he wanted was just this, leaning on her, his face on her neck breathing in her scent. His arms embraced her from behind, hands resting on her six-months-belly. An instance of grounding, only strengthened by the tiniest flutter he could feel of their baby.
He longed to forget his shame by holding his world in his arms. This part at least.
Diana weaved his fingers with his, her posture shifting ever so slightly until he couldn’t say who leaned on who.
“I really wondered what took you so long, you were expected back half a day earlier,” she said eventually.
He hmphed. “Not unusually late.”
“You’re so quiet.”
“Classified information,” he murmured. She stirred while he hugged her closer.
“Maybe better this way,” she said. She must be rolling her eyes. “That I don’t give you orders anymore.” But her pulse was quickening against his cheek. He’d been sent on missions she wasn’t responsible for, true, and it left her scared for him despite everything.
He understood that well enough, his own worry for her currently quelled knowing she held back due to her pregnancy. Still, her reaction flustered him when, ironically, she was wrong in this specific case.
“You needn’t have worried, Dee,” he said, and she released a relieved breath, likely thinking of a relatively harmless operation.
Well, it had been, and he yearned to leave it at that, to stay a few minutes longer in this intimate cocoon.
He doubted he had the right to make a wish right now, when he’d already chosen safety.
Just one more second, one kiss on the bare part of her shoulder, and he broke the embrace, sinking on the floor to his knees to face her.
He met her eyes, then lowered his gaze, gathering himself once more. His fingers playing with a loose curl of hers. Looking up, he confessed. “I strayed from orders.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Now that’s nothing new but it doesn’t sound – ”
“Safe? It was completely, utterly reckless. I could only hope not to be too stupid.
“Because I aimed to free Mare.”
The Scarlet Guard used Shade as backup for escapes sparingly, regarding the limits to people he could bring with him. When he wasn’t assisting in the taking of Corvium, his new handler Blake sent him on reconnaissance missions. Shade kept waiting for assassination orders though they never came – so far. Due to his ability, it tended to be spotty work, often including theft and sabotage rather than infiltration. Between jobs, that left him chances to see Diana who planned altogether different operations. Growing enmeshed with Command as she was, who knew how far she was aware how he was tied into the greater picture.
Unlike during their first cooperations, Diana appeared fine with it now, him under another’s orders. He felt less so and as Blake had Shade follow the front movements and searching Corvium for weak spots, he’d been itching to approach the royal progress. It happened that he was to visit the same locations – afterwards, to listen for whispers of treason against King Maven. Bitterness filled Shade as he was close but carefully kept away from Mare, who was always on the screens beside her captor.
Shade had believed it reasonable. He’d seen the brutal results of Nanny’s infiltration. He’d stayed behind during the failed pro-Cal coup. But while the banished prince was reined in, he’d helped the Guard win Corvium, cheered with them as Cameron’s brother Morrey was freed even as everyone chewed at still seeing Mare as the king’s trophy and mouthpiece.
When he received the orders three days ago, Shade had had enough of waiting and playing safe. He had this ability that had proved so useful, had saved his loved ones’ lives so many times, he had a duty to Mare to at least try.
Would she not expect him to try?
He would grind his teeth no longer and enter the royal party. The opportunity sounded almost a ploy, find out who the king was meeting at the Choke, implying that Shade would evade Maven and come from the other side.
This time, he picked the confrontation.
“I’ve learned to master standing around silver residences without notice. Even before I stole a sentinel uniform, no one took issue with me. It was almost too easy, eavesdropping for the official mission in the meantime. I only had to teleport when no one would wonder at sudden appear – or disappearances. Everyone knew where the royal party was staying, and this residence had little difference to others, and they love to gossip about Mare. It hurt to hear, but I needn’t care when I’d succeed, right?
“Security increased the closer I got but I still came through in the disguise. And then I knew. I didn’t see the door, I felt it. The wall of silence beyond the door.
“I was hit by it just by starting to teleport. I never … It happens in a blink, usually. There, I noted how every bit of me would materialize and I wasn’t sure if I’d be just slow or appear in bits. What I knew was that it was impossible to bring Mare with me. She’s shackled in silent stone! No idea how they manage it. How she endures. I …” But he had no words for the thought. It expressed itself as a sob he tried to swallow.
Diana never let go of his hand as he told her – his dominant left clasped by both of hers. It didn’t help either of them to keep from shaking.
“I just stopped. Stood there, about to get caught after all, calculating if there wasn’t a way, any way.” He shook his head.
Diana’s hold grew tighter. “You were alone. You couldn’t have expected …”
Shade faced her and she must’ve grasped his meaning in his eyes as she startled. She still didn’t let go, like a buoy. He straightened. “So I left. Ran away. Jumped out of their base and barely hid my disguise on my way back here.”
She shifted closer, face inches above his. “It’s as you should’ve done. Shade. The only thing you could.” She swallowed. “You gathered intel and retreated before you were trapped and arrested. To know how Mare is kept –”
He pulled his hand away. “Don’t talk about this like such an officer.” She blinked. “I know that. I’ve tried to explain it to myself the whole last day. And I haven’t felt a drop less guilty for it.”
“You …” Diana moved to hug him and he prevented her by cupping her cheeks.
This moment, he needed his gaze to hold on to her eyes. “I didn’t think practical,” he whispered. “I went, selfishly, out of desire, and ended it for it as well. It was pure need to survive. For you. I couldn’t bear the risk of not coming back to you, leaving our child behind. Not even for Mare.”
Diana slid off the bed, hugging him as she sank to sit on his knees. A sob escaped his throat.
“There was no chance,” she reminded him.
He closed his eyes, resting his head in her chest. “You said you wouldn’t pick – us or the cause. You say you’ll do both, both is important. With only one absolute – keep our baby alive. But I did. Choose. I picked us over Mare.” Tears wetted her sweater. “It’s my shame and yet I don’t regret it.”
Her hands rubbed his back, through his hair. “We’ll do better. I promise you, we’ll do better and free her.”
Her words were a lifeline, a tether that did little to diminish the raging waves of his heartbeat. “You hate promises,” he said.
Diana snorted faintly. “I’ve kept working on it.” She kissed his temple. “You don’t know all progress we make. Mare is fighting, and we’ll come from the other front.”
He woke to the smell of coffee. Its vitalizing odour filled his nose, steam warming his face as he opened his eyes.
Diana smiled at him, already unfairly groomed. She stroked his arm. “A drink to get you up, but breakfast waits in the mess hall.” The corners of her mouth dropped. “Did you even eat last evening?”
Shade struggled to find his limbs to rose and sip the coffee. They’d stayed cuddled last night, barely managing to undress before he fell asleep. He shook his head, exhaustion clinging to every part of his body, eyes sore from crying. Tentatively, he tested the first swallows of the brew. “I had a bite. When I was debriefed.”
Diana patted his leg. “You still had something to report?”
“Enough. The ones around ... well, they know enough.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What?”
He downed the rest of the mug. “I thought we professionals keep quiet?” He made light of it but no grin entered his face. “What’s the plan for today?”
She sat down next to him and put an arm around his waist, looking at him inquiringly. “Work out. A meeting. Supply chain check, finances, the usual. But fresh up first, then breakfast.”
They held hands on the way to the mess hall and after a shower, Shade felt almost alive. Yet he was glad of Diana’s pampering and idle conversation.
“Gisa has applied to the guard a while ago, with your brothers,” she explained when he asked. “Only the support we task minors with and … it was chance she was called to Rocasta while we are here, too. Yes.”
“Hm. I don’t like it still. Can’t you make an exception and put in a word about what she does?”
Diana drew in a breath.
He sighed. “Okay, okay, spare me the lecture.”
“A bit protective, are we?”
He squeezed her hand, glancing at her. “Increasingly.”
She bumped his shoulder. “She gets along with Cameron really well. They met before we’ve freed Cameron’s brother and they feel similarly, apparently. Being the same age and with a sibling as hostage.”
“Just ‘feeling similarly’?” he teased.
She grinned. Maybe more than that.”
“I really didn’t notice.” He shook his head. “I overlooked her, with all other things.”
“We have a lot to shoulder.” Having reached the mess hall, she turned to him. Her other hand splayed on her belly, the first time since he returned. She must’ve refrained to absent-minded touches until now, to focus on him. That was hard for her, he knew. She already loved the baby so much, the mere anticipation shaped her into a new, lighter-hearted person, a hidden aspect of her he hadn’t been aware of.
Himself, he wasn’t so sure. Her excitement carried him along, his love for her had him follow her everywhere. The thought of letting her down pained him. He didn’t know what to expect while he also couldn’t wait to meet their child and he felt an undeniable duty to them, yet the shape of this duty remained beyond his grasp.
“Don’t you want to go in?” he said, glancing to the mess hall.
Again, she looked at him in this strange way of this morning and sighed. “Are you ... ready for the world?”
He cackled, clasping the door handle. “What else is there?” He stepped over the threshold, even as Diana stood still for an eyeblink.
“Wait –”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHADE!!”
He stumbled at the loud cheer, his hand going to his heart in exasperation. He almost fell against Diana who’d sidled close again. Gladly, he leaned against her as he calmed himself, assessing the congregation.
The party.
Everyone was there, or so it seemed at least. Gisa, Cameron and her brother Morrey, his brothers – even his parents! People he knew from the Notch and other comrades he’d recently worked with. Some weren’t there, of course, like Kilorn and Cal, but he saw Sara and Julian and even Diana’s father, skulking around … that dick. Maybe Diana was gracious he tried but Shade couldn’t stand the way the colonel was so clearly uncomfortable behaving like, well, family, and Shade hated how that had hurt Diana over the years and she didn’t dare addressing that openly.
Diana clutched his arm, whispering into his ear. “I’m sorry, I decided to tell you just a moment too late …” He nodded, helplessly. “I thought you were aware, of the date, and just didn’t make a big thing of it …”
His disbelieving gaze wandered from the assembly to the filled tables, back to Diana.
“I …” Indeed, he had been aware of his birthday on February 2nd, not expecting anything of it. He wasn’t certain Diana would remember the timing or prepare anything, regarding the one or two times they’d mentioned birthdays … but it was him who’d forgotten about what day it was entirely the moment he’d stood before Mare’s gilded prison door and panicked.
He was relieved Cal wasn’t there, right now. To look at him, after what Shade and attempted and failed at, knowing that Cal wanted the same – he needed time to process that.
Shade straightened, borrowing posture from the steel in Diana’s eyes. Then he cupped her face and kissed her, hard.
The others clapped.
Letting go, swallowing a laugh caused by the silly clapping, he cleared his throat and spread his arms, doing his best of playing the role of the stunned and grateful birthday kid.
Glossing over them staring at him expectantly for likely minutes now. “What have you bleeding done here!” he exclaimed. “Thank you so much!” Already, they rushed to hug or shake hands to congratulate him and he swam into the flood. It was easy to do, go with the flow to drown the shame he’d arrived in. Shade excelled at pretending and blending in and today, they deserved a happy reaction. And he wanted to, to enjoy friends, family, and comrades. They had gathered here, bringing and preparing all that wonderful food he just about realized he was starving for.
The mess hall looked like a silver bakery in Harbor Bay, tables laden various warm breads, all different shapes, sizes and toppings, a spread of meat and cheese slices, eggs, cakes and puddings. The first bite of dark bread with grated carrots, still soft, fresh from the oven, warmed his entire self. The guests recommended snacks and he followed the advice gladly. Cakes fluffy like clouds, excitingly crunchy or tasteful compounds of nuts and fruits, he took every bite as he fell into the chatter and remembered they’d all come despite knowing Mare wasn’t there.
Could they not celebrate despite her captivity?
Could Shade deny them this?
His father, the last one he’d expected to meet here, told him how Sara was looking at replacing his leg and improving his lungs and Shade didn’t want to stop embracing him as his father commented on the frontlines.
Bree teased him that he’d barely escaped becoming a teen dad, now that he was twenty, and Tramy embellished an adventure about procuring the food and preventing a disaster when making the cakes with Gisa, Cameron and Morrey. It sounded so similar to chaotic past birthdays, at home, in the Stilts, where one midnight after the party, Shade asked Kilorn to practise kissing as a present and Kilorn complied.
Julian tapped his shoulder and offered him fried apple rings in dough, and, self-deprecating as Julian could be, confessed he put in extra efforts because it was his birthday, too, and they shared hilarious mirrored congratulations.
The colonel told him his first name was Willis and Shade made himself say it.
The talking and feasting went on until his mouth strained and, looking for his mother, he finally found Diana again, sitting next to her. His mother, smiling like the sun, hugged him tight and yet it was she alone who openly bore that heavy sadness in her eyes that Shade was only hiding. He didn’t have to pretend with her. Yet she also understood the meaning of celebrating right now.
In the end, as the congregation shushed them away to clean up, Diana rose and cupped his cheek. “Do you forgive me?” she asked.
He blinked. “Didn’t I show you?” he countered, and kissed her again, softer but longer. Their brows rested against each other. Both of them the same height – with Diana slightly taller –, it felt so clear how equally matched they were and with the arms around each other, they started to sway as if there were music to dance to.
“The next time – ,” he began, “ – when is your birthday again?”
Diana groaned, chewing her lip. “In May … you know, the due date …”
He grinned. “You’re still embarrassed about that?”
She gasped, slapping his chest. “You remembered all along!”
He grabbed that hand that bumped him, rising it to his lips to kiss. “No one knows if it’ll be the same day for real, calm down.” His smile faded. “But I want one thing to be certain.” She found his eyes, questioningly. “To have Mare at the next party.”
“She will be,” Diana confirmed once more but apparently less convinced than last night.
Shade nodded, his gaze striving away. Maybe they didn’t need assurance, and hope had to be enough.
After today, he thought he could start with that.
A/N 2: CAMISA SHOULD’VE HAPPENED
For a long time, I was a bit uninspired for Shade’s birthday post this year until I had an idea this Sunday morning. It’s weird, it feels like I teleported into Fadeland since I have created this in five days after I spent almost eight joyful months in Fadeland last time, happily procrastinating! ^^° I will continue the Shade/Farley birthday posts at least until next year for the 10 year Red Queen jubilee.
However, I have to apologize:
For excluding Cal, I’m so sorry for those who hoped for him but just considering to include him in the party is so awkward. Having Shade look into his Cal’s puppy eyes wishing his brother(-in-law) happy birthday while he must be thinking about how everyone chided Cal for impulsively making Mare a priority in risky operations with Shade then doing the same to utterly fail and be comforted by his very present pregnant girlfriend – the party would’ve crashed right then (or Shade would’ve filled his mouth with food and just replied with a “hm, thanks”). But Shade will confess this to him later on and they’ll have a deep bonding talk about Mare and love and siblings!
For the off-handed mention of Shade kissing Kilorn – I’ve considered both Farley and Shade as bi for years but never grasped the chance to state this for Shade (maybe in my Calorn AU, a little) and thought today, now or never, even though it became just a tiny bit. I hope to do better in future, should not another writing block or technical problem happen.
My inner bread snob jumped out, sorry not sorry. I thought about how often characters – usually girls – can describe delicious food in books only to not eat it in the end and while it’s a man here, I wanted to say fuck that, go binge
Hahaha so I waxed poetic about how much I LOVED writing last year and then never posted again - it was because of a technical problem that axed my opportunities and inspiration and then my Ghost obsession replaced and swallowed half my mind okay it was fun - anyway the problem is solved (hopefully staying that way) and the Fade love resurfaced like a season and something's coming tomorrow
A/N: This year, not fun edit-making but the finalization of the fic of pure self indulgence I laboured in love for 7 months. It was a marvellous joy, based on two old shit posts of mine (x y) I now offer to share to celebrate Shade’s birthday. (How much I enjoyed this, seven years after Glass Sword, shows me how much this character and couple still mean to me. Maybe I can believe in lasting love after all. For them.)
5504 words, it is long
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
Off-Duty
The rain pounded a rhythm on the makeshift balcony roof both irritating and comfortable. The first because of its dissonance with the ball’s music wafting up, the latter as the sound was certainly more homely than the howls of the storm ruling the skies of the Monfort capital for the last days. It was its own kind of uplifting, despite the wetness and still dark horizon, that Shade gave up keeping Clara indoors and set up their picnic on the balcony.
The light at least was shining in a warm red from the gathered night lights beside them, reflecting the colour of the rain protection foils above. To keep them dry, Shade had scavenged umbrellas, wires and canvas and fumbled them into the resemblance of a roof through some risky ledge gymnastics relying on his teleporting ability to save him in case of falling. He hoped the same ability made him fast enough to grab Clara should her constant, curious skygazing lead her to lean too far over the ledge. In fact, he didn’t trust on teleporting alone when it came to her, as he was too nervous to leave her out of his sight for a second too long and eat in peace.
He tried to lure her away with some of the food he’d sacked from the snack buffet for the party downstairs in the palace. Though Clara did turn around, she ignored the orange-glazed yeast cake he held out in favour of a tiny rice and vegetable bowl.
Shade exhaled with relief, but Clara seemed barely so. When he offered the rice pudding with cherries next, she shook her head.
“For Mama,” she said.
“Sure,” he replied with a forced smile.
Clara could be more perceptive than he expected at her two and a half years. Did she understand Diana was missing her own party? Or had he been too exact about her anticipated return from the Lakelands?
It wasn’t officially “her” party, more an annual ball to remember the fallen and the veterans, but in Davidson’s circle, it was known that General Farley was to meet with representatives from Prairie who finally showed the start of an interest in brokering an alliance – with Monfort and the Scarlet Guard, no less. Diana wasn’t the usual choice for diplomacy though given Ella’s advice, the warlord from Prairie would rather be convinced by a brusque military leader.
More so if she brought as a negotiating feature intelligence on the latest lakelander movements. As she’d been engaged in them. Or still was. As of, right now.
Shade bit off some spicy bread with a slice of smoked ham.
He supposed he would’ve heard of it if things had gone that wrong and Diana’s unit was still tied in battle. But if the situation was that dire, anything could’ve happened and with the communication cut off.
No wonder Clara stared at the sky as if she could see the light of the plane returning her mother. He couldn’t wait for it, either.
Diana had been set to be back two days ago. Leaving them three whole days of family life before his own mission to Ciron loomed and whose preparations he felt less and less inclined to proceed with. While Mare was with Cal in Piedmont and Kilorn and his brothers in Norta, Shade had been recommended to scout in the western country for possible allies, ideally to initiate first contacts together with other high-profile spies he barely knew. The opposite to quality time with his longed-for beloved and their daughter couldn’t be harsher when the lack of contact also made him worry - if not freaking out - about the well-being of the rest of his family.
He felt terribly egoistic and also almost unashamed of it. He was fed up. It broke his heart enough to see Clara staring after a glimpse of her mother, how could he abandon her now, without Diana to relieve him? As if it could be called relieve, like a battle strategy, but it was the plan the two of them had come up with: Just one of them would be engaged in operations at one time, and this had lasted for almost two years now.
Only Shade doubted the system more and more. He hardly wanted to leave Clara out of his reach and miss her growing each day. He’d also wanted to welcome Diana, had dreamed of her skin, her smell, her voice. The way she only smiled at Clara. Yesterday should’ve been theirs and this pitiful picnic should’ve included her. In the sunshine. Climbing the hills as if on a vacation, to forget the dangers they were in or just escaped even though she would’ve questioned him about his mission in her way to see him off safe.
Thanks to the storm, any part of this became impossible and Clara’s glare at the cloud didn’t lessen in concentration. If she could, she’d challenge the weather itself.
Shade risked a second to dip a pig-shaped cake in caramelized milk and devour it in one go before trying to offer another to Clara. This time, she took it, dipping it absentmindedly, yet on the way to her mouth, she let it drop. “There!” she pointed, jumping up.
Shade was too startled to think and, still struggling to swallow the food, simply reached for Clara. She grinned, pointing again. But he didn’t see, too relieved to have Clara secure against his chest. Then he heard the aircraft approaching the palace.
When he grasped its meaning, his grin mirrored Clara’s.
The storm drove rain in his face before Shade was fully materialized, and the ground swayed beneath his feet.
The truth about teleporting was that the dizziness never went away, not even for a teleporter himself. The irritations and imbalances coming with contradicting the corporeal world had to be fought with resilience, willpower, and focus, whether you were sneaking behind an enemy or escaping them.
Now, though, he was grounded by Clara on his shoulder and before him –
Her eyes, bright despite the dark, finding them immediately –
The surety of her gait, approaching –
Her smile, growing clearer and broader with every step –
She was a woman in parts, and he longed to have her whole in his arms, and so he strode to her – until Clara heaved and then he stumbled for real, glancing at his daughter, trying to shift or steadying her. But to no avail, as she puked all over his chest and he was thrown out of his dreamy desires and stood there, frozen and dumbfounded.
He jerked his head to the sound of a snort and there she was, Diana standing right before him.
“Come here, dove,” she said, taking Clara from Shade and already comforting and cleaning her with her scarf, as efficient as ever.
“Mama,” cried Clara, and Diana was quick to answer with soothing phrases. He searched her eyes darting between Clara and him and around and when their gazes locked, he found her glance full of joy and amusement as she bit her lips to keep from laughing.
“Well, Dee,” he said finally, “the ball’s food we ate was better than it seems right now.”
“Was it?” she asked, smirking, and reached out to caress his cheek with her thumb.
It sent a shiver over his whole body. He hoped there wasn’t vomit on his face, too, and he cursed the rain for interfering with the intensity of her touch. He wanted to take her hand and pull her close, despite it all, because who gave a shit, but then her hand was back to hold Clara whose temple she kissed while he was still full of sick.
He decided he didn’t care after all and shook off his freeze, just when Diana changed direction.
“Ah, there’s Grandma, dove, let’s greet her and Grandpa,” she said as she walked ahead where, indeed, Shade’s parents approached, supposed to have Clara while he and Diana attended the ball.
Diana looked over her shoulder. “So we all have to get changed,” she said to him. Winking. “I bring Clara to Ruth and Daniel and we meet upstairs, okay?”
“Bye, Papa,” Clara said.
“Okay, bye,” he replied with a sigh filled with deprivation as he crossed his arms – wet and dirty. He’d make do with a shower for now.
He'd hurried cleaning up in the shared bathroom but long hair had its demands, especially in case of an event. With his long hair just dried and out of its bun for the ball, Shade found Diana in their apartment, mistreating a dress uniform in front of a mirror. At the second of his entry, she glanced at him, currently forgetting her battle but revealing the sum of the mess frontally. She couldn’t stop fidgeting with the clothes just for a second, always dragging the sleeves this way or that. The uneven buttoning revealed her bare throat down to her skimpy undershirt, making her look as unstyled as Cal in his workshop clothes and the medals she tried to pin were all over her chest, but not in a becoming pattern.
He burst out laughing, in revanche, louder and freer than Diana earlier without a sick Clara in vicinity. Diana flushed, increasing her visible contempt for the outfit. “I suspect medals are really meant for punishment if they come with this horrible dress uniform.”
Shade wiped his mouth, stepping closer to inspect the horror. As he touched the jacket where Diana had experimented with shifting the alignment of buttons and buttonholes, she sucked in a breath. He swallowed in turn, a shiver running over his arms. He felt the ghost of their missed welcoming hug. Now, as near as they hadn’t been for weeks, the yearning for reunion was overwhelming. As it was for cupping her breasts. Another swallow ended in a cough. “First of all, try a proper shirt, loose on the shoulder, not a tank top.”
“But – “
“I’ll leave the top buttons open and fix your tie in a fancy knot. And the pins I can use to keep the collar from your throat.” Assessing her styling kept him cool. Even as her eyes bored into him. Eyes that should match her style. So he should look –
He stepped back but Diana caught his hand. “Help me take it off.”
“It is already more off than on,” he said with a snort, pulling away for good to search for the right shirt. Some women were okay with clothes fitted for most men but curvy and broad-shouldered Diana was not one of them.
He did not glimpse at her.
“I left Clara with your parents,” she called to his back, “as usual at these blasted events. Tsk. As if I wouldn’t rather stay with her right now … she fell asleep before I could barely talk to her.” He heard her walking around.
A hand on his shoulder. “You're right,” she said, glimpsing over his shoulder and eating a dish of rice pudding. “The food is great. I hope your parents got some snacks, too.”
"I'd be surprised if they didn't." He smirked. "Clara wanted to leave that rice pudding for you, you know", he told her.
"Really?" Diana beamed. "She can be so sweet."
"Or almost grown up."
Diana sighed, the remark nagging at her for a few seconds.
He felt for her hand and squeezed it. “Was she better, no more throwing up?” he asked.
She shook her as she took the shirt. “It just exhausted her. Maybe she’s just like me, uncomfortable with teleporting.”
The thought amused them both, even as they cosseted and worried about Clara the immediate moment. The daughter of a teleporter couldn’t stand the ability. Did that mean she didn’t have the ability herself? He sighed. Suddenly he strongly wished to hold Clara and solace her. Indeed, a blasted event upsetting the millions of things they could better do tonight. Least of all tracing the curves of Diana’s body beneath the formal attire as she changed. Instead, he could talk.
Neutrally asking about her recent operation. How did her mission go? Diana seemed hale and whole enough but the relief at the first sight of her washed over him again as she confirmed it. So, what about the rest of her unit? What was left out of the reports, what would affect the negotiations to take place? Would there be repercussions, also on his mission – the very next day?
Diana was dry in her replies even as she chattered along nonetheless, playing along if Shade wasn’t open to “taking off” her uniform. He knew they wouldn’t leave the room this night if he gave in to that.
As he produced his own dress uniform from the closet and moved to put it on, he cursed at their deal simply cut for unpredictable schedules. He should refrain from his missions.
The thought, once appeared, dropped like a stone. He couldn’t imagine abandoning his comrades-to-be on a whim. But he was unable to unthink it. To stand back and steal the time for their family to stay together appeared like a goal.
He straightened his posture, the reflection of his prim, military outfit belying his true resolution. “That we should have to steal the time to be together,” he said aloud.
She met his eyes, softly for once. “We do it for Clara.”
At first, he said nothing as he returned to dressing Diana and paced around her. “Clara needs a lot of things,” he replied finally as he put her jacket back in place.
“You've been great with her the last weeks,” Diana whispered as the jacket almost glided onto her with the silky and loose-fitting tunic beneath. It was her favourite pretty shirt, one she hardly had chances to wear. "She already misses you," she said, glancing for the corner of his eye rather than his reflection. As do I, she mouthed.
Why don't you say that aloud? he wondered. Her eyes in the mirror sparkled with something unsaid.
She felt for his arm and squeezed. “I’ll look after her first thing in the morning. Rise with the dawn, and all that.”
“I know, I know, you never forget about the Guard,” Shade answered, though with a dose of humour. He could see before his eyes how Diana would spend the next day spoiling Clara while staying alert for new military developments. He’d rather see it for real than imagine it, though. As he stood behind her, both before a mirror, he stretched out her arms, settling inner and outer sleeves. The he felt for her front for the buttons, watching their reflections as his fingers went up, pressing against her belly.
“You’re so nimble,” she whispered.
Finished at the front, his hands glided along her arms to entwine their fingers. “You’d know,” he answered quietly into her ear and his lips were just about to kiss her neck when he froze in the act. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Diana’s disappointment flash in the mirror.
“I won’t undo my work right when it’s complete,” he said and, without letting go of her hand, spun around as if in a dance. If Diana was still flustered, she didn’t show it but only a wicked, dazzling grin as she swayed along with him.
“See, you can move in it,” he said. “More elegant than you claimed once.”
She snorted in affront. “These dress-up things are an insult to those who fight in the field, with how little movement they offer.”
He increased the pace of their dance. “I find it quite comfortable right now.”
Despite her complaints, she went along with the faster, more complicated dance moves he started. “Well, obviously the uniforms have been designed with your body types in mind from the start, all lean and straight.”
“Straight.” He tsked.
“Only outwardly,” she clarified and initiated a new step. “In a more – most – desirable way,” she added under her breath.
“Glad to hear you still find me beautiful.”
“Hm. You should say that to me,” she countered before he twisted them around, one, two, three times, until he let go of the dance pose to cup her face. “Has the gorgeous General Diana Farley of the Scarlet Guard and mother of our child finally become vain?” he asked.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Just that I’d enjoy to hear it, as a general, mother and your …” she bit her lips.
He blinked. “What?”
She took his hands to remove them from her face and pull away, turning to the mirror to control whether her outfit had survived. Or to check how deeply red her cheeks were. “A miracle,” she muttered.
“Of course you are.”
She smiled at him. “When did you even learn that?”
Did she really think this obvious shift of topic would work? “From Gisa, for a start. Had to serve as her mannequin and model and you know she had to work for silver tastes.” He rolled his eyes. “But yeah, she also said the basic styles are like designed for sticks like me.”
“A beautiful stick.” She cackled. “But good she had other customers and body types now.”
“Like you? Truly.” He bit his lips. “Though there were always stockier silvers, too,” he said absentmindedly, though he was already thinking about someone else.
Diana noticed. She waited for him to continue, merely blinking once or twice. She was never so calm or patient with anyone else but Clara – or him. It encouraged him as he took to his time to consider his words.
“It was before we met, when I was newly conscripted to the nortan army. As an aide, I had to manage an officer’s supply including his clothes.
“He treated me like a butler at times. Missed the luxuries from home but didn’t have the chance to bring them. Including servants.”
Diana winced. “You only told me he was an idiot before, though smart enough to hire you.”
“Smart?” Shade grimaced. “Not so rewarding for him given where we got as he went lost.”
“So is he? Lost?” Shade shrugged and Diana prodded further. “I know you’d check what became of him.”
Shade glanced away and quieted, listening in for the faint waves of the sound barely reaching them. They were more felt than heard. “It was a dark time I don’t take pleasure in telling and reliving,” Shade admitted finally.
She hugged him back as he stood still for good. “But I'm here to listen when you need me to.”
His fingers drummed with the music as Shade glided through the ball. At times, he was about to start humming before stopping himself. At least it managed to distract him; almost too well. He didn’t have the nerve to spy tonight, to chat and deceive while the pressure of the next day loomed over him. Still, as his blood pulsed in anticipation of Diana’s return from conferring with the Prairie warlord, Russell. He had considered following Diana to hide and listen, but for what reason? She knew him too well not to notice and he wouldn’t bother her that way. And he trusted her. She’d succeed in negotiations and either way, he couldn’t look after her from tomorrow on –
“Thinking about me?” he startled and choked on his drink as Diana arrived that very moment to take him by the arm, entwining their fingers. She wasn’t one for public affection, so this display of closeness was as demonstrative as a kiss.
It certainly felt almost as intimate as he glanced over the crowd in her grasp, aware of the people who saw them. He set aside the glass and completed their embrace, already pulling her along to sway to the rhythm of the song. “For sure,” he replied with an exaggerated drawl. “I longed to resume our dance where we left off.”
She raised an eyebrow in amused doubt as her hand roamed over his back and he sucked in a breath. His own hand on her waist began to prove a temptation he tried to battle by focusing on intensifying the dance steps. He listened for the first beats of a new song, changing into a different dance and he was ready for the shift.
A taxed Diana followed his lead. Despite her flush, she enjoyed the challenge of the dance. “You do seem eager.”
He shrugged, smiling. “And you seem smug. You have the warlord wrapped around your fingers already?”
She made a scale gesture with her fingers. “He’s predictable enough, as was his reluctance before. I know the type. Doesn’t want to state his offers, so I let him dangle and stay vague myself. He’ll spill soon enough.”
He let her twirl under his raised arm.” And we have the time?”
Her mouth twitched after the spin, unperturbed by the move, dancing as fresh as if just woken from sleep instead of locked in a tumultuous flight. “In this case. He’s so eager for the edge in an alliance he doesn’t grunt about efficiency in meetings.”
“So he’s spying.”
She mock-hit his shoulder. “Of course he’s spying, Shade Barrow. You’d know best.” He chuckled and she went on. “As I said, I’m acquainted with the type. I know where to bring his attention and Davidson knows how to appear generous.”
“But do you want me to shadow his retinue?” Between the quick steps and the movements of the other dancers, speech was limited between catching breaths. Only as the song rolled out and slowed, they did as well, into a lazy motion staying on the spot, two people in their own pace and place, careless of the rest. Their grip on each other grew firmer and their gaze shifted from playful into serious. Diana swallowed, without losing sight of him. “You’d rather stay?” Her grasp became even tighter, almost hopeful.
Could she be agreeing with his doubts?
Shade traced her face with his figners. “If you hadn’t arrived this eve – right when you did – I wouldn’t be joining my mission tomorrow.”
Diana’s eyes widened.
“It’s exactly the promise we mode, isn’t it?” he went on. “One would always stay with Clara. So she’ll never see both parents dying in one battle.” For once, Diana hesitated to meet his eyes as she chewed on that. He shook his head. “Even if I’d spoken to you the day before, when your operation was over and you’d only have to return. Anything could’ve happened still, your base attacked, the airplane crashed – it wouldn’t matter. I couldn’t go on if we’d lost you, not knowing what’s become of you.”
He stopped, his brow leaning against hers.
Diana covered his hand on her face, her eyes aligning with his. “You would fight no longer … without me?”
Shade broke her grip, stepping back. “It’s not like anyone can make me fight for them, can they?” he said, glimpsing Diana’s irritated frown before he teleported away.
A silly joke, he knew. Jumping exactly out of reach but still in eyesight, urging Diana to follow him through the rush of partygoers. He could hear Diana calling his name, just not enough under her breath to avoid attention.
She sped up, her instincts winning over the chaos. “Are we being dramatic now?” she spat, panting, when they’d reached the empty stairs outside the ballroom with only meters between them. The doors slammed shut behind her.
He glanced over his shoulder; she was climbing up after him. “But you didn’t ask…!” she said, still panting, and quieter now. “What we could do differently …” She swallowed while her gaze continued to burn at him nonetheless. “Or if you believe our promise is for the gutter.
“I’d rather spent this evening watching Clara sleep, too. Relaxing after being stuck in a plane for hours, delayed because of the weather as well as fake threats. Then hear how you and Clara spent these weeks together. How she grows, what she learns. Quarrel about who of us gets to do what with her.
“I want so much, Shade. I’m full of it, so full I can only act to live with it. I understand what you say, I'd do the same. But not … forever. I want Clara, and us, any children we might have, our people, to have it better. I can’t and won’t stop before we win. Or we might lose it again.”
She pushed through the final step and reached him at arms’ length. Her fingers fluttered against his back until he spun. “Why do you run away?” she muttered.
“As long as it’s needed to make you talk as much as this,” he replied.
She snorted but grasped his arms tight, nearly ending their balance – or just about keeping it. He gasped, and she leaned her head against his chest. They were rarely in this position, with her being taller than him. The unusual feeling of it both flustered and elated him, as he imagined her hearing the fast throb of his heart, or how that thought alone made it beat even faster. He started to caress her hair almost automatically.
“I know you might not…”, Diana began eventually, lifting her face right so he could see her warmed gaze. “Maybe you don’t see it like that anymore.”
What? He nearly said it aloud, having forgotten their topic for their embrace.
“Maybe you wouldn’t fight no matter what anymore,” she went on. Ah. “Because we have Clara.”
“I never said that,” he replied after clearing his throat. Quiet but sharp. Determined. “I can’t give this up no easier than you. But if – if– I lost you, I couldn’t go on like before.”
“Then I want to know that!” she cried out, then exhaled until she caught herself. "There're always other jobs to do either way. I have to know. You could do anything, it doesn't have to in the field."
She shook her head, pondering. His hand was on her waist, hugging her closer and closer. Indeed, Shade wasn’t sure himself if that was the solution he craved.
Finally, she lifted her piercing eyes. “Will you join your mission tomorrow?” she asked, her voice low.
He sighed. He was here, at an event for soldiers and veterans, celebrating success as well as survival while they were about to broker a new military alliance. Diana stood before him, decked in medals earned in spilled blood, her own and others’. “A recon operation in Ciron,” he said. “I confess, I wonder about the point of where it all might lead.”
Diana frowned. “Reconnaissance isn’t a coup.”
“It might lead to one,” he countered.
“So you’d rather leave it wholly in the hands of others?”
“Well, in yours,” he admitted. “And you listen to me.”
“I’m not sure if that flatters me,” she said with an ice-cold smile. The general’s smile. “Would you be as reluctant if Mare came with you?”
His face fell, caught guilty as charged. No wonder she smiled like that. “No, I wouldn’t,” he confirmed. “I’m a terrible soldier, I suppose.”
Diana straightened while he only longed to maintain their embrace as a cackle escaped her throat. “Inclined to blatant favoritism,” she said. “Disobeying orders and acting on his own advice. Questioning officers but without intention to take command yourself. Up for the sneaky jobs and avoiding supervision. Expecting personal relations to cover up misdemeanors.” For all the sharp accuracy, Diana listed the call-outs with an amused grin. “You’ve always been an awful soldier, Shade Barrow,” she concluded. “But I think that’s what brought us together in the first place, isn’t it? You aren’t cut to obey but would follow me lead anyway. To be honest, I’m very glad how you’ve kept running after me – ”
Shade blushed at the memory he couldn’t deny. “Umm – “
“Indeed,” Diana went on, “I’ve been honoured to follow you as well. To be with you, as we watched each other’s backs. To see new options – to be made to see new options, because of you, as you insisted on my attention.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve changed for meeting you and I don’t regret a minute of it. Whatever you’ll choose, whoever you become, I want to be with you. I ... won't give you orders if you'll disobey in the end." He grimaced at that remark but Diana paused, puzzled until resolve flashed over her face. "I won't command you where to go but I promise to never leave you behind. Whatever the future holds for us or how we’ll react to it.”
She swallowed and goosebumps rose over his skin as blood rushed through his head and her voice was warped by a ringing in his ears. “We’ve … made a promise after Clara was born. That one of us will always stay back for her. And maybe this promise doesn’t work out as well as we thought. But we can make other, new, … different promises. Or vows. A vow …” Her face shone with a flush.
“Like?” he breathed, barely audible.
“Like, Shade Barrow, would you marry me?”
And her eyes sparkled as she said that, despite the way she’d stumbled over the words with insecurity. For a moment, he thought it was the bravest speech she’d ever held. As if she didn’t know what he’d reply. Nor did he, actually.
“You never cease to surprise me,” he managed to utter and cursed himself next to her heaving breaths. She deserved a better answer. So he grabbed her by the waist and, as she didn’t kneel but still stood below him, lifted her up to the same stair as him and as she yelped, he embraced her so tightly he could bury his face in her neck.
He panted now, harder than her, and not only due to the effort of lifting her. Her arms, hugging him back, were force stronger than gravity, so powerful he forgot he even could teleport.
It was just what she always did. After he prodded and urged her to come closer, she’d give more than he’d even imagined asking for. Marriage had sounded so plain and formal, it felt pointless for them. They were comrades in arms, relying their lives on each other, as well as parents raising their little, lovely child. Any considerations to deployments or housing were granted them due to that; their intimate relationship no one else’s concern and he thought that only just. Silvers could keep their conjugal restrictions to settle their finances with marriages; any of Diana and Shade’ s endless but fruitless discussions about a second baby felt more significant.
Until she asked him and it suddenly was significant, lighting a flame in his heart that filled him with an energy he craved without knowing what to use it for. They were in love, and it mattered. They became who they were and got to this point, in a palace with leaders on their side because of it and if anything, this flame should keep on burning for the world see and feel as they celebrated it.
Shade startled, to look into her eyes and finally give her her bleeding reply, but this time, nothing could save their balance as a distraught Diana jerked as well and they would’ve tumbled down the stairs if their hands didn’t find each other, without thinking, and they maintained footing only to fall over each other with Diana on top of him, both loudly exhaling after the shock.
Diana tore at her rumpled uniform. “All your work, undone again,” she exclaimed and laughed.
“I’ll help your out of it,” he answered and their eyes met, filled with longing, and the centimeters between them broke into kisses like breathing, until they required real oxygen again.
"Did you just come up with that?" he asked quietly, nuzzling her neck.
Diana grasped his face to make him look at her but didn't say anything, only blinked.
Shit. Guilt settled in his belly. “I didn't mean –”
An uncertain smile appeared on her face in slow motion. "Partly?" she offered. Almost like she was prepared if he was taking it as a joke. Her flush intensified, but not just from kissing. Her nervosity heightened, too; he could feel that in her pulse. "I mean, it, the idea to ask, came over me in the heat of the moment, but ... well, I did think about it for a while but if it's all too much of a surprise for you, or not your preference at all-"
A laugh rose in his throat, a laugh of elation he just about managed to swallow. "Diana, no." Her face froze. "No, sorry, I didn't mean – sorry!" He took he deep breath. Not a breath of hesitation, but one like drinking in the love for this woman.
He found her gaze again. “I'll hold on to you for every minute we have. And I'll still rise before dawn to wake Clara with you, before I'll go to Ciron, for one final round of our plan and then I absolutely do want to marry you, Diana Farley. And throw a bloody royal feast for it.”
A/N 2: I hope that was a surprise for you! It sure was one for me that I managed to write something that made Me The Aro not disregard marriage as a repulsive patriarchal tool to control money and female sexuality let’s stop here but beam along with my OTP. As I worked really long on this, some things were changed and I want to make a honourary mention of the dancing montage bringing Fade from their room to the ballroom including a time skip - it’d work better in movie version ;-)
