Keeping track of the things I write is difficult on my other theme. So this tumblr will exist as a way for me to keep track of and update my stories :3
I've recently gotten into visual novels - specifically ones that I saw a YouTuber that I just found playing. The most recent obsession is basically yandere shenanigans... probably not too surprising considering what I've been relogging on tumblr.
Criminally Yours and Binary Star Hero are ones that really got me started, and I keep circling those worlds... I recently asked on the Criminally Yours discord a long complicated question about what species and classes/subclasses the trio would want to play if they were still in college. I have this weird college AU set in my head, playing out, and Wes said he liked D&D and it's kinda been a hyper fixation for the last 4 or so years -..-
The only thing I want to understand more about Binary Star Hero.... would be like... a superhero style database where the heroes and their powers are listed, as well as what the aliens are and their capabilities and how to kill them works.
But like... it's weird but... this might be a thing that's getting me into writing again. Just fan fiction, and just for myself right now. But... I've separated myself from writing so much... I just lost all hope and drive and direction for it... and this is getting me writing again? The world is... people are weird.
Relationships: I feel like itâs a little early for thatâŚ
Summary: Now that Amy's awake, it's time to hammer out some plans...
Magpie had left Siheta and Bull in the Chantry, sprinting towards Amy's new room. She was relieved to see Tunan and Tunen more presentable than they had been... Not that Tunan was much of a chore in the mornings. He was mostly quiet, needing time to wake up fully before being ready to converse with anyone... Tunen on the other hand. She was a feral cat and needed expert care after waking otherwise you'd get swiped.
âHey! Good. You're both up. Uh...â she stuttered in place, trying to think of what to say next exactly. âThere's a council meeting right now, but if you guys wanted to wait in the tavernââ
âCouncil meeting?â Tunan asked, his voice conveying a sense of puzzling concern.
âYes. With Amy being...well, back. Mostly. Everyone's gathering to discuss...things.â she shrugged.
âWhen are we leaving?â Tunen interrupted.
âWhat?â Magpie felt as cold as everything in her seeped into a deep dread. Leaving?
âYes, leaving, as in returning home.â Tunen clarified. Had she asked out loud? She must've.
âI'm... not leaving.â Magpie announced, incredulous.
The twins did that thing that they do from time to time where they exchanged a glance that held layers of communication. Magpie could read Tunen's frustration along with Tunan's (strangely smug?) acceptance. It was endearing because she was able to read it...it was also irritating.
One of Tunan's fingers twitched towards his sister. âUm. Why not?â he asked haltingly. âI mean...â
âWe came here to find you.â Tunen follows, her manner abrupt. Clearly, it's still too early for her to stray away from that hissing cat inside of her.
âAnd I appreciate that.â Magpie said.
âCan I just..â Tunan was now actually holding his hand up towards Tunen, attempting to cage the beast. âCan I ask...why you want to stay?â
Magpie blinked at him. âI mean.. you did. Just now.â His expression fell, as if to say, âreally? now? you're doing this now?â. If she was being honest, she'd have to admit that she was stalling, because...
Because this was an out. She could leave. But she didn't want to... and now she needed to ask herself why.
âI mean... the Inquisition is in a position to actually fix the problem.â The typical excuse was the easiest to fall back to.
âWhat problem?â Tunen asked.
âUhhh! The breach? All the breaches?â
âOK, so...â Tunan stepped in again, apparently taking on the role as mediator. âYou think the Inquisition can help, and you want to be a part of that?â he asked, and Magpie at least felt like he was genuinely interested in her response.
She took a deep breath and tried to settle herself. âI think... I think...yeah.â
Great work there. So eloquent.
âLook, I just feel like... I need to be here.â
Tunen had been staring at her in complete befuddlement. Her eyes twitched towards her brother, and she deflated with a sigh at the look of obvious reproach on his face.
âJust... tell me you're not doing this for the shems.â Tunen grumbled.
Magpie felt her back teeth grind. Something about that statement rankled her, but she's fighting to keep that from showing.
âI am in a position to help. And I want to stay for me.â
âWhat makes you think they'd allow you to do anything worth doing anyway?â Tunen countered. âAnd even if you did do anything worth doing, what makes you think theyâd let you own it?â
âLook, I'm technically working for Amy, here.â Magpie argued, dismissively. âThat carries a lot of weight.â And that much was true. Even though Magpie wasnât really working for Amy, sheâd managed to convince others that she was⌠and when people heard that, they kind of fell in line.
âYeah, and who's she anyway?â Tunen continued, not at all impressed. âUntil I got here and you started talking about her, I had never heard of her.â
"Well, she's a big deal right now to everyone.â Magpie snapped.
She couldn't help but notice that Tunan kept turning between the two of them, a single hand stretched in both directions, though his focus shifted as each of them spoke.
âAccording to who? And for how long? I swear, these shems just give out shit and then take it away. Thatâs what they do. What assurances do you have that any progress you've made is safe or will last?â
âAlright.â Tunan's voice was very deep, and he typically kept his tone low. Now was one of those rare times his voice felt as though it boomed simply because he wasn't trying to sound docile anymore. The boom of his unfiltered voice shocked even him. He cleared his throat, and lowered his voice again. âLet's take a breath... and remember that we are all here for each other.â he reminded, as though he were attempting to sooth a pair of caged beasts.
âI... want to stay.â Magpie announced, feeling the truth of that and the weight behind it even if she wasnât certain the motivations in the statement yet. âThis has become important to me, and I feel like I am not done here. I appreciate that you came all this way; and I am sorry that I'm the only one that was here, and I'm not being as cooperative as you'd like.â
âThat's notââ Tunen began, but couldnât really finish her thought.
âBut!... It all boils down to me not wanting to leave yet.â
At that Tunan nodded, giving his sister a placating look. His head tilting, his brow peaking in his version of puppy dog eyes. She sighed at that, the fight mostly taken out of her.
Tunen shrugged, reluctantly. âWell... at least it's interesting here.â
Tunan continued nodding as well, seemingly relieved.
âBut we aren't going to keep sleeping on the floor, are we?â Tunen pleaded.
Magpie chuckled, shaking her head. âDoubtful.â
âWell, that's a relief.â Tunan murmured, preaching against the wall now that he didn't feel the need to dive between the two of them as a negotiator. âAnd your Amy is pleasant enough.â
âfor a shem.â Went unsaid, but Magpie had a feeling that was very much felt. Even if Tunan didnât voice it as much as Tunen, he had never been overly fond of operating near or with humans.
But that was a discussion for another day.
âGreat.â Magpie said. âGood talk. Now...if you'll excuse me. I have a meeting to get to.â
âOooh. Fancy.â Tunen cooed, her tension seemingly defused now that theyâd talked.
With a soft snort Magpie left them, making her way to the council chamber. She was relieved that the map room was enormous (at least in comparison to Josie's office) and that she wasn't the last one here.
Seeing Amy was a bit of a shock. She was between Josephine and Leliana â odd because they usually flanked the table at opposite ends. Cullen was glaring down at the map. Madame de Fer was there as well, near Leliana's usual spot.
Magpie was a little shocked to find Amy in...well...nice clothes. Amy always had to make do with whatever she could find. Seeing her in something fitted was...strange.
She was wearing a very delicate looking white tunic with long sleeves that billowed, but over that was a tightly fitted dark leather vest, very tailored breeches, and knee-high boots. There were various straps and belts, both to keep things in place and to string sheaths onto.... Her hair was mostly down. The braid had been undone, a thick ponytail hanging low on the nape of her neck while errant curls leaked out to frame her face....
She looked good. Even better, she lookedâŚhealthy. Not leaning or waning as Magpie had seen after her previous episodes.
Thankfully, Magpie noticed Sehita in the shadows behind Amy. The towering woman caught Magpie's eye and nodded for her to join them. That put a halt on her next internal crisis, as she had no idea where to really put herself. She trotted over, relieved when Amy's eyes lighted on her and she smiled.
Amy reached for her hand once she was in range, the gesture instantly assuaging her tension. The fact that it was easy for Amy to turn away from the others to greet her wasâŚcomforting. She could deal with the questions of why she didn't want to go home, and if she had a proper place that would affect any change later. Right now, she was needed and wanted and that counted for something.
âWell damn.â Varric said, entering with Sam right behind him. âWould you look at this.â he said, motioning to Amy.
âYeah, they can't keep me down, and honestly that's what matters most.â Amy said with a conspiratorâs grin and a stubborn gleam in her eyes.
Again, Varric seemed to come up short, blinking rapidly and holding his hands up. âAnd with complete sentences this time.â
âEvery time I go down, I come back with upgrades.â Amy warned. âOne day I'll be invulnerable.â
Cullen half scoffed half laughed at that.
âI said 'one day'.â Amy defended.
Sara and Blackwall were the last to show up, and Sara couldn't just show up without making a fuss.
âOoiii! Lookatchu! All gussied up!â Sara crowed with a leer.
âI mean, I don't know what you've been doing, but Iââ Amy reached down, griping, and pushing up her own breasts as though she were situating them properly. âwas getting fancy.â It seemed to be the right response, as Sera giggled, and Blackwall looked elsewhere with a grin.
The room filled up soon after. Solas, Cassandra, and Bull finally making their way into the chamber. Even this big room seemed a little crowded.
âSo, we have our Charmer back and better than ever.â Varric noticed as a way of kicking off the meeting.
âIndeed.â Leliana confirmed. âAnd considering that the information she has shared with us has been verified, I believe we are ready to move.â Gazes sharpened as that was dropped in front of them.
Not that Magpie ever had any real doubts about the things that Amy was saying. With everything going on, a human touched enough to predict the future wasnât that crazy. Sheâd seen Sam use a glowing hole in his hand to close rifts, after all.
âVerified? ThenâŚ?â Cassandraâs questions went unspoken as she couldnât find the proper words or the paths for those words to take.
âOur two-pronged plan will begin tomorrow.â Cullen stated with the certainty of steel. âCassandra will disguise herself as a Lieutenant with a regiment under her to reinforce our position on the Storm Coast. Simultaneously, Sam will make his way to initiate contact with the mages at Redcliff. According to Amy, after the initial contact, Sam will be invited back to Redcliff formally. This will give Cassandra and her team time to deal with whatever is going on at Caer Oswin.â
âOur scouts have confirmed that while Caer Oswin is inhabited, there is very little in the way of noticeable traffic.â Lelianna informed. âIt should be easy for a regiment and a team to secure the grounds.â
âConsidering the time it will take for Sam to initiate the plan with the mages, Cassandraâs team could potentially be finished and on their way to Therinfall before Sam is finished with Redcliff.â Cullen estimated, though whether this is his opinion on the time it would take traveling back and forth between Redcliff, or his high estimations of Cassandra, it was difficult to say.
âIt is not the entourage that I had hoped for,â Josephine began. âhowever, I was able to secure a few prominent Orlesian nobles to accompany our concerned party to Therinfall.â
âAbernache?â Amy cut in to ask.
Josephine eyed her first, eyes drifting to the ever-present paperwork in front of her before saying, âYesâŚLord Abernache is among those who are interested in confronting the Templar order.â She seemed only slightly put off by Amyâs insight.
âA prominent figure?â Madame Vivienne asked, though by her tone one may think she were inquiring about the weather.
Amy shrugged. âNo more or less than anyone else. He has his part to play, and that is enough to note his significance. That should be enough on its own.â
Perhaps Amy didnât see it as she wasnât really meeting anyoneâs eye, but Magpie couldnât help but notice the slightest arch in Vivienneâs brow. As though Amy had said something she had not anticipated⌠What that meant, Magpie wasnât sure, but she did know look of reappraisal when she saw one.
âHow far is Caer Oswin from Therinfal as far as traveling time?â Amy asked.
âIt would take a well-armed troop of men moving with purpose less than a full dayâs travel, given the terrainâŚand the need for secrecy.â Cullen shrugged his shoulders. âPerhaps a few hours more, but not by much.â
âAfter the hubbub at Redcliff, I intend to take my team and hustle towards Therinfal Redoubt.â Sam announced.
âThat might be unsafeâŚâ Amy murmured, concerned. âMostly because you will have already undergone so much.â
Sam smirked at her. âEase up, mum. Weâre all grown, and we can take care of ourselves.â
Amyâs eyes scrunched up as she glared at him, but it was more for being called âmumâ than anything.
âBull, Solas, and Varric will be accompanying me during my tour of Redcliff.â Sam announced. The three people he had called out nodded their assent. âWeâll have another team waiting in the wings to help Cassandra. Madame Vivienne, Sera, Blackwall, thatâll be you. Donât imagine any of you will have a problem handling rogue templars.â
âNot at all.â Madame Vivienne replied coolly.
âCullen will move some troops into the Hinterlands after the initial contact, under the guise of reinforcing the camps weâve established and surveying the damage that the Mages and Templars have reeked. In truth, he will be in place should anything happen that requires us to take Redcliff from the mages and the magister.â
Sam paused and surveyed Amy. âWe donât have much time, but while this is all happening, at least in the day and a half itâll take us to travel there, make contact, and return, we would like it if you met with a few tutors that could assist you with your magic.â
Amy gave a single, decisive nod. âI would like to begin that as immediately as I can, actually.â
âI donât see why not.â Sam murmured with a shrug. Everyone was already on standby as it was. âIt shouldnât be too difficult wrangle everyone together after the noon meal.â
âTutors?â Solas asked, his eyes darting back and forth. âWhat tutors are those?â
âMadame Vivienne has brought a magic user with her. One who relies on his music to work his magic.â Lelianna announced.
âZither??â Amy asked, half laughing already. âOh, thisâll be a wild ride.â
Again, while Madame Vivienneâs face revealed nothing, Magpie noted her eyes darting to a very smug looking Lelianna. Lelianna hadnât told Amy anything about anyone named Zither, that much Magpie was certain of⌠whether or not the mage recognized this wasnât entirely clear, considering her consummate poker face.
âFrom what I understand,â Josephine began, flipping through some of the pages on her clipboard. âwe have several mages that are more than willing to weigh in their opinions as well. Norton, Baxtien, Elossa, even Siheta will all be present and capable of aiding Amy if their expertise should be needed.â
âOh good. Always better to perform for a crowd.â Amy half grumbled with a taxed smile.
âIf you can perform at all.â Bull grunted with a smirk. Amy flicked her middle finger up at him with a dazzling smile. âSeriously, Charmer, maybe youâve got everyone else convinced youâre almighty, but Iâm still on the fence here. You havenât really given me anything thatâs impressed me.â
It was a bluff, but the tension that spiked through the room at Bullâs words was very real. Everyone held their breath, waiting to see how Amy would handle this.
She smirked. âI can give you eleven reasons.â She said with honey-sweet words, and her grin only depend when Bullâs attention snapped away, obviously trying to pair the number 11 with anything significant to him. He didnât have 11 chargers⌠so⌠She held a finger to her lips as though she were telling a secret. âThe first hitâs free.â She used the same finger tracing the secret on her lips to point to the hinterlands. âSheâs right here⌠and sheâs so pretty.â She said, leaning over the map almost suggestively, her eyes never leaving Bullâs. âAll orange and yellow with such majestic curling horns and livid fire. I know youâd love to take her.â He smile was positively feline.
Bull blinked hard before taking in a deep breath through his nose and letting it out.
âWaitâŚâ Samâs face went slack. âAre you âŚ.talking about a dragon?â
âA Ferelden Frostback, right under your noses. Weak to cold but resistant to fire damage. She cannot be slowed or disabled, and sheâs got a whole mess of drakes to protect her and her dragonlings.â She straightened before looking to Sam with a more serious air. âThereâs a pass leading to Redcliff thatâs being guarded by bandits that arenât bandits.â She waved off his look of confusion. âOne mystery at a time, Sam. I can explain later. One of your scouts will warn you of this when you try to take the road, that is if they havenât already.â
âTheyâŚhavenât. Weâve been focusing on the people and the cult, and you know, that whole mage/templar fight thing thatâs going on.â Sam grumbled.
Amy ignored Samâs cross tone to continue explaining. âThe bandits are set up in a nice little nook. Beyond that nook is a natural stone archway that leads to her lair.â Her eyes bore into Bull. âI wouldnât advise entering that archway and her lair until youâre completely ready to take on a high dragon.â
âIâm always ready to take on a high dragon.â Bull practically growled; his enthusiasm high.
âBull.â Sam murmured, attempting to regain control.
âBoss.â He whined.
âPriorities.â Sam reminded. âTake out the bandits, set up a camp there to fall back to if things go south with the mages, take on the mages. Then, once weâve gotten the mages taken care ofâŚmaybe after weâve sealed the breach, weâll go after the dragon. It isnât as if weâll never be in the Hinterlands again.â
Bull seemed mollified even if slightly petulant.
âThere were some names that you mentioned that Iâd like to revisit.â Lelianna noted. âNames of some mages that you said Sam should talk to.â
âYes!â Amy said, snapping right back into the gravity of the situation before them. She righted herself, and her attention was now back on Sam. âClemence will be the easiest to find. Youâll be asked to meet in the tavern, and heâs there. Heâs a tranquil alchemist, but Alexius doesnât want the tranquil around. So, heâll volunteer to go with you and join the inquisition.â
âLucky.â
âTalwyn is at the bar in the tavern. You can speak to him after Clemence. But you should keep these interactions subtle.â She scowled, sounding disgruntled as she continued. âIâm sure Linnea will be watching you, and she could be a problem.â
Taking a deep breath, she continued, âNext is either Lysas or Hanley. Hanleyâs a human mage standing near the statue to the hero of Ferelden, and heâll be very happy to see you. He hates the involvement of the mages with Tevinter. I donât think it would be hard to convince him to go to the crossroads to wait for you. Lysas is an elf mage who youâll find against one of the stone archways that lead to the chantry. He voted to abandon the chantry, but the alliance with Tevinter has him shaken. Heâs another one that I might be persuaded to leave if promised some protections.â
âConsidering that all rouge mage and templar activity has been thoroughly halted, none of them should have a reason to stay.â
âThey might not have the choice, considering that theyâre Tevinter chattel.â She growled. âI donât know if they realize it yet, but Alexius will confirm that when you meet him.â
âasshole.â Sera spat.
Amyâs face pulled into a complicated frown. There was disapproval there, but her expression seemed⌠almost sorrowful as well. It made Magpie wonder if perhaps there wasnât more to this storyâŚ
âWe all have our missions.â Cullen said, with what felt like finality. âIf thereâs nothing more, be ready to move out a dawn.â
Magpie watched as everyone began to filter out of the room, and Amy zoned in on one person⌠She made a beeline for Solas.
Relationships: I feel like itâs a little early for thatâŚ
Summary: Siheta and the Iron Bull have a very candid discussion.
Notes: Don't get excited. I'm not...I mean, I've been sitting on this for a while and thinking it wasn't any good. I figured, it wouldn't hurt to post it.
âThe Iron Bull.â
The mercenary captain in question was almost startled to have Siheta approach him, let alone speak to him.Â
âThatâs my name.â he grumbled, eyeing her with unmasked suspicion.Â
She lifted a single eyebrow, almost as if she didnât believe his statement âŚ.then again, she was always looking at him like she didnât trust him. He didnât really blame her. In fact, it was nice of her to do him the courtesy of conveying genuine emotion. Sure, it was doubt, but at least he was confident it was authentic.
âA word in private, if you please?â It wasnât a request. That much was obvious as she turned and sauntered away.
Bull sighed, rolling his eye expressively in Kremâs general direction before hefting himself up and following. She walked into the tavern, which felt odd. He supposed he could understand the logic. There are two entrances/exits and both were easy to monitor. Still, it didnât fit with...well, with them. The tavern was a place of revelry, and the mood between them was tense at best.
âYou know, if we keep this up, people are gonna think weâre fucking.â He drawled.Â
She did not dignify that with a response, and he was a little perturbed that even the notion of it didn't so much as make her blink. Did anything get a rise out of this woman? Or was she just a cold fish through and through?
âI donât really know you, the Iron Bull.â she began. âHowever, if I did, I think I would like you very much.â Now itâs his turn to look unconvinced. âYou tend to make everyone around you very happy, and in spite of how intimidating you appear⌠you make them feel safer if you can.â she explained. Her eyes drifted, as though she were inspecting those words them seconds after sheâd spoken them. She evidently approved of them, sealing them with a nod. âYes. I would probably like you very much, were it not for the Qun.â
He gave a single big nod at that, snickering as he sat down in his usual spot. It felt a little weird to be in here with no one else.
âAll that isnât to say that I donât appreciate you as you are, but...well.â she turned and walked around the table, sitting down once the length of the entire table was between them. âThe Qun makes me nervous for many reasons, most of which Iâm sure you can understand without my naming them.â
He had the good sense to look squeamish. âIs that what you asked me here forâŚ? To talk about the Qun?â
âNo.â she soothed, settling forward onto her elbows. âIâm prefacing our conversation with this because thereâs something else that I want to tell you. And I want you to understand, Iâm not telling you this because I have any desire to see your reaction to it. Iâm telling you this because youâre the only Qunari I know here; and, more to a point, youâre the only Qunari Amy knows.â
Bullâs face froze as he considered this. Slowly, very slowly, he nodded for her to continue. âAlright.â
âLast night, Amy said two words in perfect Qunlat while she slept. She said these two words twice in succession. Then she settled again.â
âYou know Qunlat?â
âWhy wouldnât I? It was my parentsâ first language.â she said with an almost doting smile. It was strangely reminiscent of the Tamasaren he had been so familiar with⌠His only response to her statement was to shrug.Â
âWell, donât keep me on the edge of my seat, woman. Whatâd she say?â
âKatoh, Hissrad.âÂ
At that, everything in the Iron Bull went still. As if the words were a trigger that literally made him stop.Â
His brain was trying to process what she was telling him, but it didnât make any sense no matter what angle he tried to approach it in.Â
Amy shouldnât know about âHissradâ. No one should...Not that she hadnât gained a reputation for knowing what she shouldnât. And heâd never given her the âjust say âKatohââ speech (though if heâd had the occasion to do so, heâd be one lucky son of a bitch as itâs usually a prelude to more enjoyable things).Â
When he finally remembered where he was and came back to himself enough to cover his tells, he was more than a little irritated to note that Siheta looked strangely satisfied. Dammit, he gave her that one. She just dropped two words, two repeated words that Amy had said, and he forgot to hold his reaction. Vashedan!
âTo be clear⌠youâre just.. telling me this. Like..â he leaned back, throwing his right arm over the chair back while making a vague encompassing motion with his left arm. â...like just for the sake of letting me know it happened?â
âWellâŚâ she began before letting out a heavy sigh, that damn-near indulgent smirk on her face still. âI donât know anyone named Hissrad, but I reason that you may.â
âYou know that the Qun is big, right?â Bull grumbled. âAnd besides, itâs less of a name and more of a title. There could be a bunch of guys walking around as Hissrad.â
Both of her eyebrows rose so loftily as she nodded with an almost amused hum. âWould we call this collective of Hissrads a Qun or a Ben hassrath?â
He half growled, but it only earned him a soft chuckle. At least someone was enjoying this brouhaha. Still...the fact that she was being so congenial was...it felt more like light-hearted teasing than barbed discourse.Â
âI am only telling you for your benefit.â Siheta soothed, and yet he wasnât the least bit soothed. âTake it as you will. After allâŚâ she shrugged. âIt couldâve just been a random dream.â
He huffed out an exasperated breath, full of his disbelief and bitterness. No matter how it may seem, things were seldom âjust random nonsenseâ when it came to Amy.Â
He snapped back into himself, into his persona when she shifted to stand up. She rifled through the sling pouch on at her waist. His brow lifted when she sets a canister of horn balm on the table.
âAmy got some for you too, huh?â he asked.
âShe did.âÂ
He squinted at her as she pulled out the buffing cloth and brushes.
â...uh⌠You know, I got the same care package.â he figured his âyou tooâ question was enough to enforce that he also has all of this at his disposal.
âMaybe. But youâre doing it wrong.â she replied, brandishing the file. He huffed an indignant response. âYou just smacked the balm on without doing any of the filing or buffing repair first.âÂ
She slid up behind him, and he had to work real hard not to tense up when she began filing at the base of his horn. Even as it burned, there was a satisfying element that crept into his ear bones and down his neck. Itâd been ages since anyone tended his horns for him.
âCan I assume you'll want similar treatment?â he finally managed to grind out.
He didnât see her smile, but her words didnât feel cheeky or cruel. âI wouldnât be against it.â So ridiculously, ludicrously sincere, this interaction with a Tal-Vashoth. Well...maybe she wasn't exactly Tal-Vashoth since it was her parents who had defected. But still... she was of the opinion that the Qun was wrong and... and it felt strange to be able to relax around someone like that. This sort of thing was usually reserved for people he considered closer to him... He grunted and groaned about it because he had an image to uphold. It wasnât as if he could just sit here and get pampered, after all.
He didnât think she wanted to try and kill him⌠and if she did, he was certain he could take her. But as time passed, he began to relax. His horns needed the help since he had a heavy rack. She worked deftly, and all the irritation he felt simply melted away.
Then it was her turn, and she accepted his efforts with more grace than heâd accepted hers. Conversation and all, it took the better part of an hour before they were done⌠The door opened not a moment after he was finished making certain Sihetaâs hair was fixed without getting any balm in it.Â
It was Magpie, of all people! Her eyes widen fractionally before returning to their more neutral position.
âHey⌠I was looking for you two. Didnât think Iâd find you together.â she said, looking between them before her eyes darted around. âI especially didnât expect to find Bull styling Sihetaâs hair.â
âWhat! I wasnâtââ
âWhy were you looking for us?â Siheta interrupted.
..well, if she wasnât bothered, he wouldnât be either.
Hmph.
âThey want a gathering in the map room.â She announced, her eyes staying on Siheta. âYour presence is requested.â
âBoth?â the surprise was obvious in Bullâs tone
Relationships: I feel like itâs a little early for thatâŚ
Summary: As dreams went, she supposed being inside Dragon Age wasnât too bad⌠At least she wasnât the Herald (again). Or the Warden (again). Or Hawke (again).
Notes: Hope you guys enjoy this one :)
First came the smell, though even that wasnât what woke her. Not quite anyway. Her stomach echoed with a sharp pang to the smell of cooked meat, but what really woke her was the sound. The rusted creak of the door opening and closing, the subtle rattle of a utensil on a plate...soft cloth.
Her eyes pried open, thankful of the dim light. Drifting slowly to her left... her eyes landed on Sam, asleep upright in a chair. His hair was a riot, and his five oâclock shadow had transitioned into ten oâclock scruff.
She cast her gaze around the room, finally noting where the sound was coming from.
âSyra?â she whispered, leveling up on an elbow. The little servant from the kitchens with ash-blonde hair. She was high-stepping over something on the floor before Amy's guttural voice snapped those enormous blue eyes of her up front and center.
âOh! Amy!â she whispered in a rush, half skipping to the bed. Luckily, instincts honed from long hours in the kitchen kept the plate of food she carried aloft and balanced. âoh! Amy! When we heard what happened we were so worried! Are you hungry?â this confession and question were both rushed one after the other, leaving Amy more than a little confused. There was a joke to be had about care-takers equating health, worry, and food all together... but who had the time for that?
Amy sat up, surprised at the strange union of opposites she felt. She was, at the same time, vital and waning. Weak and strong. Hungry and repulsed at the thought of food.
âI...think I should take it slow.â she determined. âIs everything else going well?â
Syra set the plate of food down on the side table and wrung her hands in her apron a bit. âAs well as can be expected. I was sent to rouse Master Trevelyon⌠Heâs had a rough time of it, but being just past eight bells...itâs time he was awake.â the girlâs eyes scattered about the room. âNot sure about your... others here thoughâŚâ
âOthers?â
âThe elves sleepinâ on your floor.â she said, motioning towards the foot of the bed. Amyâs frown deepened as she interpreted what Syra was saying. âShall I bring meals for them as well?â
Amy nodded. âPlease do.â she tugged the blankets off, surprised to find her legs bareâŚ. the dress sheâd been given was still on, even if a touch rucked up. It hit just above her knees, so she was covered⌠Why would anyone remove herâŚ
...breeches?
She suddenly wondered if Sera were nearby.
âIâll wake everyone.â Amy promised. Syra nodded and hopped out of the room.
âSam.â Amy called softly. He took a deep breath but barely stirred at all. Amy leaned into a standing position, staggering forward a bit before coming to the side of Sams chair. âSammy, itâs time to wake up.â she said, combing his hair out of his face with gentle fingers.
His head tossed back a bit as he stretched, his spine arching away from the chair back before he relaxed again. Weary eyes cracked open, half-lidded from sleep. It was nothing but naked exhaustion until shock rounded his eyes.
âAmy!â he breathed.
âMorning.â she murmured, stepping away, till she was seated on the bed again. She didnât want to perch here too long, but she didn't want to push herself either.Â
She winced in surprise her arms drawing up and away as Sam slid forward, landing on his knees by her bedside, his arms wrapping around her waist as he buried his face against her hip.
âThank the Maker.â his voice was rusted, from fear or relief, Amy wasnât sure. âSolas was livid. He kept saying things like âirreparable damageâ and âunprecedented falloutâ.â
Amy let her hand rest on the curve of his head, hoping to comfort him.
âAnd Siheta? Bax?â
âBax had no answers, just wide eyes. Siheta was⌠she tried to rally for us.â
âSolas is an excellent voice of caution. He understands that potential doesnât always translate into something that isnât harmful. Siheta is a comfort because she understands that something that starts bad doesnât always stay that way.â
She felt him relax before his head snapped up. He drew back, avid gaze never leaving her face.
âYouâre talking.â
She smiled. âSo it would seem.â
He let out a startled breath that couldâve been a laugh.
âItâs going to be ok.â she assured, her hand drifting down to his shoulder. âNow, help me wake the others.â
Sheâd wanted to help but she ended up leaning over the footboard of the bed while Sam knelt to shake Tunan awake ...this began a domino effect, as Tunan shook Tunen awake, and Tunen was spooning Magpie. Amy lingered over the footboard, too afraid that once she got on the floor, sheâd need help getting back up again.
Once awake, and to the point where she was aware of Amy, Magpie sprung up, nearly knocking Sam over to climb on the bed.
âYouâre awake! And...better?â Magpie asked.
Amy nodded. âSorry to trouble you.â
Magpie blinked, shaking her head in a slight double-take. âYouâre...you sound great!â
âAnother fantastic discovery.â she said, half leaning back against Samâs shoulder as he docked on the side of the bed behind her. âWe should let Leliana knowâŚâ
âIâm more concerned with breakfast.â Tunen grumbled, rubbing her eyes.
âThat should be on the way.â Amy assured. âWhy are all of you on the floor?â
âBecause Maggie wouldnât leave, and there were a lot of opinions about touching.â Tunen complained, half crawling to the other side of the bed until she could climb her way into a standing position...then...she just...toppled over like a tree that had been felled for lumber.
Her brother watched this without surprise or judgement, before rising and rolling up the abandoned bedrolls.
Luckily that was when the door opened, and a very bouncy Syra looped through. Miraculously, the multiple plates of food she carried remained undisturbed.
âThank you, Syra.â Amy said.
âYes.â Tunan murmured, taking a couple of plates from her. âThank you.â he murmured before bringing it around to his sister.
âOh, donât mention it.â
âIf it isnât too much trouble?â Amy began.
âYes?â Syraâs voice was eager, poised like the bands of a slingshot, ready to spring.
âIf you wouldnât mind quietly telling Leliana that Iâm awake?â
Syra blinked owlishly, before leaning in and asking. âShould anyone else know?â
Amy thought about that before replying⌠âPerhaps...not yet.â when Syra nodded, Amy Smiled. âThank you, dear.â
âThis is exciting!â she chirped. âHappy to help.â and then she darted away.
âKitchen staffâŚ. theyâre always hellishly busy⌠I almost feel bad.â Amy murmured.
âPlease.â Magpie grunted around a sausage. âAny break from the kitchens is a good thing.â
Amy nodded. The Inquisition had a lot of people to feed.
âWell⌠Good morning, everyone.â
Amy felt Sam chuckle behind her, which was startling. It was then that she was struck by how common it had becomeâŚ. that is... Sam never let anyone touch him. This prolonged contact felt shocking. She recalled the feeling of pins and needles any time Sam was very close before now⌠it was gone. Had this been some sort of energy from the mark? If so, how did it connect with her?
âSo⌠youâre all better?â Sam asked, his voice hedged by uncertainty.
Amy considered the question as she considered the porridge Magpie was pushing her way.
âGetting there.â She announced at last. âA little shaky, but no bouts of overwhelming agony.â
A breath puffed Sam up and deflated him in the next second.
âSo⌠if youâd touched the mark months ago, you wouldâve been fine?â
Amy shrugged. âImpossible to say now. Maybe it wouldâve killed me. Maybe I needed time to adjust...or maybe I wouldâve gotten over it in the same amount of time.â she shook her head. âIf what Siheta and I have discussed has taught me anything⌠itâs that the physical world does its best to adapt around the veil. That which doesn't adapt, changes⌠itâs equal parts skill, resilience, and luck.â
âBut, you are feeling ok⌠right?â Tunan asked.
âI probably need to take it slow. Drink plenty of water and have easy foods.â
Magpie pushed a cup of water into her hands, and Amy laughed softly. She took tiny sips, then paused for any reaction from her stomach⌠when none came, she followed those sips with gulps. She felt the muscles in her face relax, and knew she was probably fine (even if a touch dehydrated). She still felt a little breathless, but⌠she would build up those reserves again.
A loud thunk clunked through the room before the door creaked open and closed again. Leliana wafted into a room of people watching Amy drink waterâŚ
âYou certainly know how to keep people on the edges of their seats.â she remarked.
âLetâs hope itâs a phase.â Amy half groaned. âI wonât speak for the rest of you, but I donât think I can take much more of this.â
Lelianaâs eyebrows brose, a new light in her eyes. âYou do sound much improved.â
Amy nodded. âSmall favors. Our debriefing sessions have been painful on both sides, I know.â
In the time Sam had been gone to scout for Skyhold, Amy and Leliana had hidden away in her private quarters. Amy dictating information which she wrote in her own hand, and Leliana scribbling it down in the Thedosian equivalent. While Leliana never complained about this arrangement, Amyâs broken speech had been aggravating for Amy if nothing else.
âI assume today will be a day of recovery.â Leliana murmured, and she didnât even sound resentful about it. Leliana had been accommodating in their interactions, but Amy wasnât sure if this was because Amy had useful secrets, or because Leliana cared about Amy as a person. Still, she searched for hope.
âYes.â Sam said, a strange firmness stiffening his tone. It reminded Amy of Conner when he tried to use âdad-voiceâ˘â to convey authority.
Leliana only nodded in response. âWhat are your plans for the day?â
âPlans?â Sam asked, confused.
âA slow tour, I think.â Amy supplied, getting a sigh from Sam. The manâs eyes drifted closed, as he silently prayed for endurance.
âThatâs 5 gold you owe me.â Magpie announced in triumph.
âThat wasnât a real bet.â Sam grumbled, still not opening his eyes.
âWould it be a real bet if youâd won?â Magpie snarked.
âWench.â
âChildren.â Amy admonished, before returning to her conversation with Leliana. âMost likely a very slow tour.â
Leliana nodded. âWe should begin spreading word of your recovery. Not that it would stop everyone from working themselves into a frenzy upon seeing you.â
Amy nodded. âI imagine keeping it simple wonât curtail any flights of fantasy.â
âIt hasnât worked for me.â Sam muttered.
âAnother brick in the myth of the Herald.â she bemoaned. Amy smiled, trying to accept this with as much grace as possible. âWe shouldnât begrudge them the stories they need to tell themselves in order to have hope.â
âI just wish those stories werenât about me.â Sam groused.
âNow you know how Hawke feels.â Amy murmured. Amy felt herself tense up when Sam leaned over and embraced her. âUh⌠Sammy?... Iâm not wearing any breaches.â she murmured.
Sam drew back, staring at her in shock. âYouâre notâŚ. what?â He leaned forward, lifting the bottom of the blanket she was wrapped in near her ankle, revealing a very bare calf.
He looked back up at her, meeting her gaze before they both muttered, âSera.â at almost exactly the same time.
âPerhaps now is a good time to mention that Madam Vivienne has been asking after your condition.â Leliana informed, a smirk tugging at her mouth. âIt seems sheâs seeing your latest escapade as a reason to provide you with new clothing.â
Amyâs eyes drifted toward the ceiling. âThank Zod.â She murmured in a sigh of relief. Her eyes darted to Sam, who looked surprised at her words before she turned back to Leliana. âLeliana, Iâm going to pose a scenario to you, because Iâm uncertain exactly what I should do.â
Lelianaâs eyebrows rose, but she only nodded as if to say, âgo onâ.
âWithout indebting or ingratiating myself to Madame de Fer, I would like to make it clear that her counsel is appreciated in all things. That being said, I cannot stress enough how much I want her help in attaining...better clothing.â
And at that, Leliana did smile. And it was not cruel or patronizing in the slightest.
âDepending on how quickly you would like to go about this, I could send a servant with a message expressing your desire to meet with her and to inquire when she may expect to receive you.â she offered, and Amy found it a strange mixture of touching and curious. She couldnât help but wonder why Leliana seemed so pleased to be helpful...
âOrlesians.â Sam groaned.
âMadame de Fer isnât native to Orlais,â Amy informed. â...itâs simply the country in which she thrives.â She let out a deep breath, her eyes pinning Sam in place. âAnd that attitude of yours is unbecoming.â she added, sounding much like a big sister fussing at a younger brother. âIt would serve you well to recall that many people make up this Inquisition. Vital, necessary people of diverse backgrounds and skills, and all of them bringâŚ.â Amyâs mouth tilted in a frown as she shrugged, âJe ne sais quoi⌠but they bring it to us.â
Sam blinked rapidly at her.
âWhat...what did you just say?â Magpie asked in the resounding stillness. âThat phrase? What was it?â
âI donât know what.â Amy responded.
âWhat you just said. The Genis ayqua.â Magpie clarified, or tried to.
Amyâs eyes scrunched up as she huffed little laughs around the phrase. âFree shavak ado.â
âWhat??â Sam's aghast cry was betrayed by the joy tugging at his lips and the light shining in his eyes. âWhat are you on about, you mad, mad woman?â
Leliana laughed softly with her, and the elves and Sam continued to stare between the two of them.
âWeâve lost them.â Tunan observed, his tone dull as it was blunt. He sighed, looking over at his sister, who seemed ready to fall asleep again.
Amy cleared her throat. âSorry. âJe ne sais quoiâ is...â she almost said âFrenchâ, then thought perhaps Orlesian was a better term⌠but stopped herself, because she wasnât certain about dialects or accents or...anything really. ââŚ.it means âI donât know whatâ. Itâs...My mother would say it often. Usually, to ambiguously describe a quality a person had that was just⌠just something, but it was unnamable.â
âVery aptly put.â Leliana murmured, still smiling, though it was more reserved than before. Still⌠sheâd expressed more joy in Amyâs presence this morning than Amy had ever seen of her. It made Amy ...hopeful. âI will have your request sent to her, and you can most likely expect a response within the hour. She will undoubtedly send a servant with information of when sheâd like to expect you, and we can go from there. Though⌠I donât know if itâs entirely necessary. You are both in the same camp. Still. She will look kindly on the gesture of gentility.â
âOh⌠she will.â Amy said with a nod. âI also donât want to imply that Iâm superior to her, or beneath her in any way.â Amy explained, her eyes drifting to the bedding. âThis simple civility would be a way to do that.â
She didnât see Sam rolling his eyes, still unimpressed with the Orleasian frippery.
âButâŚâ this break in the conversation came from Magpie. âI mean, I get why you want to start moving about, butâŚâ her face slipped into an uneasy grimace. âA full tour?â
âOh, no. Absolutely not. I canât walk the entire field, I donât think.â Amy soothed, and both Magpie and Sam seemed to breathe a little easier at that admission. âI certainly donât want to try. Cullen might just pull his hair out if I caused that much of a disruption.â
âYou might be surprised.â Sam grumbled, staring absently at nothing. âHeâll most likely be in a generous mood where youâre concerned.â
Amy blinked, not entirely clear in Samâs meaning.
âHe was very worried for you, Amy.â Magpie announced. âAll of the soldiers were.â
âI donât doubt that, but that doesnât meanâŚâ Amy sighed. âEspecially now, when Iâm not sure of my limits, I think Iâll be avoiding the field until specifically summoned.â
âSafe bet.â Tunan muttered. âWhere do you think youâll need us?â
Amy looked from him to his slumped over twin. âWhy donât you two stay and sleep in on an actual bed.â Amy proposed.
Tunanâs mouth hung open slightly as he tried to think of a response. Tunen beat him to it. âI can get behind that.â her words vibrated through the blankets beneath her face as she tried to burrow under them. Amy couldnât help but smile at the display.
âAre you sure we canât convince you to take a bit of a lay-in as well?â Magpie nearly pleaded.
âMight take a nap later on in the day if things get rough. But⌠we gotta start sometime.â Amy shook her head, feeling that tightness in her chest again as she thought of everything that needed to be done. âAnd oh, Scooby Dooby-doo, weâve got work to do now.â
Send one (or a few) to my muse and theyâll answer:Â
Spiders: Does your muse squish bugs or put them outside?
The Dark: Did your muse sleep with a nightlight as a child?
Snakes: Would your muse ever keep an unusual/exotic pet?
Blood: Whatâs the worst injury your muse has ever had?
Clowns: Does your muse prefer comedy? Or horror?
Mirrors: What is your museâs least favorite thing about their appearance?
Tight Space: Does your muse ever feel that theyâre not living up to their own potential?
Closet Monsters: Does your muse hide any aspects of their personality/life from others?
Crowds: What does your muse think of big cities?
Death: Name one thing your muse has lost that they wish they could get back.
Ghosts: Has your muse ever seen something they couldnât explain?
Needles: Does your muse have a strong stomach?
Curses: Does your muse believe in good/bad luck? How about karma?
Heights: Is your muse a risk-taker?
Solitude: Name 3 things your muse couldnât live without.
Fire: Would your muse rather be very cold, or very hot?
Failure: Has your muse ever given up on an important dream?
Abandonment: How would your muse win back someone who left them?
The Unknown: Is your muse a philosophical person?
Boogeyman: What position does your muse sleep in?
Falling: What does your muse think about falling in love or commitment?Â
Change: What was a turning point in your museâs life?
Disease: What does your muse do on a sick day?
Number 13: Does your muse believe any superstitions?Â
Noise: Name one sound your muse finds absolutely unbearable.
Insects: Name something your muse finds gross or annoying.Â
Dolls: Has your muse ever collected something?
Getting Old: Would your muse rather live 50 years loved, or 200 years alone?
Social Phobia: Does your muse consider themselves an outgoing person?
Thedas Thurs: Tested~ Not sure if Iâm gonna keep this up, but hereâs a Thedas Thurs :3 Itâs Mirriel, my Circle Surana. Also in one of my fanfics :) This photo is from her harrowing. The last words of the demon, Mouse, have always stuck with her.
I started doing Warcraft Wednesdays some time ago, and it occurs to me that I could do something similar for my other OCs. So, for the very first Thedas Thursday⌠hereâs Crista Tabris :)Â
Sheâs a warrior that specializes in dual wield, though she can use a sword and shield as well. Sheâs one of the main characters in a fic Iâm writing called, The Long Haul.Â
I love this just for the sake of having a huge AU list. Iâm adding âTribal AUâ. Or we can just substitute âAncient Egyptâ with âancient culture of your choosingâ.
Relationships: I feel like itâs a little early for thatâŚ
Summary: As dreams went, she supposed being inside Dragon Age wasnât too bad⌠At least she wasnât the Herald (again). Or the Warden (again). Or Hawke (again).
Notes: Hope you guys enjoy this one :)
Amy breathed. Slow and deep as she stared down at the peer post. It was so hard to believe so much had happened so quickly. In the dawning light, it seemed so harmless.
 Heavy footfalls drew her attention to her far right. A very familiar silhouette was emerging from the mist there. When the Iron Bullâs eye landed on her...her stomach sunk.
 âBull?â her voice was reedy and rusted. Reasonably so after⌠whatever had happened yesterday. She took a single step back.
 The Iron Bull began to jog towards her.
 No⌠not jog. Charge.
 âKatoh.â she said, her voice soft, his approaching charge steamrolled over it. âKatoh, Hissrad.â a plea.
 She couldn't imagine a reply from the Qun would come so quickly. There was no way theyâd already decided to eliminate herâŚ
 She turned to survey her surroundings better⌠only to freeze.
 It was dawn. Still. No one was out here. It wasn't as if everyone in Haven needed to be milling about every day at dawn, but no one?
 When she looked back to Bull, the space between them was farther than it had been before.
 He was still running. She had not moved from her spot by the docks. Yet he was farther away. And the sun was still just cresting the horizon.
 Still.
 Everything was⌠Still.
 She turned to face him fully, planting her feet and squaring her shoulders.
 âI. Said. Stop.â Her voice was loud, echoing through the valley though she hadnât raised her voice. His pace slowed, more of a purposeful saunter now, and within scant seconds he stopped three paces from her.
 It didnât make any sense! ...it was likeâŚ
 Her eyes doubled in size.
 âHoly frothing frogs, Iâm in the Fade.â she said.
 The Iron Bull that was most certainly not The Iron Bull smiled at her. It was⌠unsettling. A familiar expression in a familiar face that somehow... was anything except familiar.
 âWhat are you?â She demanded.
 âLong have I circled around you, always from my side of the veil.â The Bullâs voice, but in Fade-Acoustics, so it sounded distant-echoey-and-yet-near. âFrom others around you, I see you. But never you⌠like learning to look for an absence. And I know you.â
 Amy tried to stamp down her fear response, but it wasnât easy. Every time she tried a breathing exercise sheâd get caught up in the fact that she didnât need to breathe. She literally had astral projected out of her body for this genuine Theadosian experience. She didnât have lungs!
 But her brain thought she did.
 ...it was the weirdest âThe Matrix has youâ situation⌠at least thus far.
 âName yourself.â She commanded. She refused to call it a demon. If spirits were or could be as malleable as Solas suggested, she needed to keep a clear head.
 âI am Confrontation.â
 Oh.
 Wait.
 ...what?
 Was she�
 âŚ..okay, yes.
 She huffed out an astral-breath. âSeriously.â She couldnât help the solitary chuckle that plopped out. âMy first trip to the fade, first spirit I see...is Confrontation.â
 Their eye narrowed. âYou do not allow excuses to stop you. You refuse to be intimidated. You act in spite of opposition. And you bring others together and force them to face what is between them.â They nodded, seemingly satisfied with their assessment.
 âGawhd.â Amy grunted. âI am in the Fade.â
 âYes and no.â The spirit said. âThis is more⌠hm.â They tilted their head. âIt is difficult to explain.â
 âItâs like a pocket dimension.â Sihetaâs voice startled Amy, making her nearly jump away from the dock.
 Siheta squatted, perched atop the dock in an easy crouch, as though sheâd always been there. Her entrance felt a lot like sheâd somehow figured out how to be Batman in spite of all this brightness.
 âHow?â Amy asked as the Kossith hopped down.
 âYouâre technically still not quite in the Fade.â
 Amyâs eyes boggled.
 âSo...So, Iâm dreaming and thereâs a spirit,â so motioned to the Iron Confrontation. âAnd a dreamer is here,â and she motioned to Siheta. âAnd yet, Iâm still not in the Fade?â Siheta smiled at her indignation.
 âYouâre dreaming the way you normally did before your crossing. You didnât need the Fade there, did you?â
 Amy sighed, drooping. Of course Siheta was right. She knew she was right.
 âNo.â she droned.
 âWell, whatever happened in your crossing that sealed up your magic...itâsâŚâ she shook her head. âIt's safe to say that Samâs mark broke through it. So now your magic is ...loose. It touches the veil in a way that we donât.â
 âReaching out to you was not easy.â Confrontation added. âEven for those who have no magic, I can easily visit them. This required⌠effort.â
 Amy looked between them, worry puckering her brow. âYouâre...youâre not trapped here?â
 âNo.â Siheta assured. âSurprised at this turn of events, and smug that Solas hasnât found his way here. But not trapped.â
 âI am not trapped either.â Confrontation assured. âOnly this contact required effort.â
 Amy nodded, relief filtering through her. âDo you think Solas will show up here?â
 âAs soon as he figures out how, I imagine so.â Siheta grinned. âIâve learned how to listen for you. And weâve all been rather preoccupied since you fainted.â
 âI fainted?â Amy demanded, appalled.
 âRight into Commander Cullenâs burly arms.â Siheta whispered, as though it were some secret to cherish always, her hands coming up to rest against her heart.
 âLetâs just keep that between ourselves, shall we?â Amy grumbled, face flattening at Siheta's antics.
 The woman's eyes widened expressively. âIâd love to, but Varric was nearby soâŚâ
 âFantastic.â Amy spat, the word sour in her mouth.
 Siheta smirked. âHad Cullen and Sam tripping all over themselves.â She muttered, shaking her head. âIt was a sight.â
 âThey enjoy controlling the dance.â Confrontation grumbled. âBeing coy, fainting right and left to avoid what they imagine to be unpleasant.â They grinned at her. âEven incapacitated, you deny them that.â
 âAlright.â Amy murmured, having enough of whatever that was.
 âYou could probably change this you know.â Siheta said, gesturing to their surroundings. Confrontation glared from the corner of their eye. Probably recognizing the diversionary tactic, and not appreciating it.
 âI uh⌠Iâll just learn to crawl before I run.â
 âAmy itâs you. Your head, your power, your dream.â Siheta soothed, her purple eyes kind and filled with delight. âI know, technically you arenât a dreamer, but very few non-mages have the ability to control their dreams.â
 âI know I could try it, but Iâd just...rather not.âAmy said, sighing down at the ice. âAt this point⌠Iâm liable to make it look like home, and thatâll only make me more heartsick.â Siheta nodded her understanding.
 âBecause of your mother.â Confrontation blurted out.
 Amy crossed her arms. âYes. I miss my mother.â her voice a challenge.
 âYou arenât upset because you miss her. Youâre upset because you feel guilty and cheated, because you never told her that she is the measure by which you judge all women. Including yourself.â
 Amyâs expression darkened. âI will punch you in your not real face if you donât back off.â she said plainly.
 Confrontation relaxed back onto their back foot. âEven when you wish to retreat, it isnât without demanding it.â The admiration in that statement did not go unnoticed... Only, Amy wondered if that was necessarily the best thing to focus on. Was she unbearably relentless?
 âI suppose you arenât wrong.â Siheta decided with a smirk, and Amy could only pretend to glare for so long before just letting it go. âWould you like a change of topic?â
 âPlease?â
 âWhatâs the last thing you remember?â
 Amy took in a breath, letting it out slow as she tried to remember. âThe doors of the chantry.â
 âThat tracksâŚâ Siheta murmured. âBut is this.. I meanâŚâ She squinted, trying to figure out how to articulate her question. âThis is your first dream?â
 âUh. Yeah.â
 Sihetaâs eyebrows rose. âI went to sleep a couple of hours ago, and you fainted not long after lunch.â
 Amyâs brow puckered, not sure what that meant.
 âNavigating the Dreaming isnât easyâŚâ Siheta shrugged as though she were trying to dismiss whatever sheâd started. "You'll learn. I have faith."
 âHowâŚâ Amy stopped herself, unsure of how to phrase any question as so many were demanding answers. âOk.â She wet her lips. âHow can we make it easier for Solas to get here?â
 Siheta pursed her lips. âIt makes sense that if the Dreaming and parts of it can enter your sphere⌠parts of your sphere could enter the Dreaming.â
 âUhhhâŚâ
 âIâm just thinking out loud here.â Siheta assured. âFor me to get here, it was a combination of listening and feeling. Traversing here isnât difficult when one can open portals⌠But could you open your own portals?â she squinted. âI donât know. Theoretically, the answer should be yes...â
 âThe Fade strikes me as the sort of place one shouldnât stumble about in.â Amy murmured.
 âSuch things havenât stopped you before.âConfrontation reminded. Siheta sucked a breath between her teeth.
 âYou know the more I know you, the less I enjoy you.âAmy grumbled. Confrontationâs only response was one of those âI-call-it-as-I-see-itâ shrugs.
 Siheta was still smirking at this interplay, but it wasnât an unkind sort of smirk. Amy cleared her throat in hopes of clearing the air.
 âAre you certain you want to try getting Solas here? Siheta asked.
 Amy took a breath. âYou really dislike him.â The statement was an observation, of course, but it was also a call for validation.
 âI dislike how I feel about him.â Siheta refuted. Amyâs eyes sharpened. She wasnât necessarily surprised to hear Siheta speak openly about feelings. She wasnât typically the sort to cage herself, after all. âWhat?â
 âJust...that turn of phrase. Itâs peculiar to me.â
 Siheta nodded. âSolas is intelligent and intuitive. Heâs also much older than he seems, and that comes with a vast deal of knowledge. I respect him even when I resent him, and I donât like that.â she shrugged. âHeâs also...well, dangerous obviously. Anyone that powerful who can remain undetected is... But, thereâs something shifty about him. In this world of ours, I understand wanting to remain as unremarkable as possible...but it goes beyond that with him. That makes me most uneasy. You don't do that unless you legitimately have a reason to hide.â Amy nodded that she understood, and Siheta seemed to relax. As though sheâd been waiting to defend herself. âIâm not the only one who thinks it even if others donât articulate it.â
 âMagpie?â
 âMagpie.â Siheta confirmed. âAnd Varic. And Bull to some extent.â
 âBen Hass-hole.â
 âQuite.â Siheta surveyed their surroundings. âBut even theyâre beginning to relax around him.â
 âHm.â Amy murmured. âWithout revealing too much⌠I don't think itâs a bad idea to be mindful of Solas. At the same time.. Iâd much rather keep him close. Even at the expense of my own feelings. BecauseâŚâ she shook her head. âHe isnât an automaton. He has valid thoughts and feelings. And if he's close to us, and we form strong bonds and feelings with him, thereâs a chance heâll form bonds and feelings for us as well.â she shrugged, mouth scrunching to the side. âDoesnât mean a break won't hurt, but heâll have all that to inform him as he moves away from us.â
 Sihetaâs expression was flat, grim. âRisky.â she announced before heaving a lonesome breath. âBut worthy.â she finally determined with a nod.
 âSoâŚâ
 âRight.â Siheta took a fortifying breath. âHow to invite the old sage in.â she eyed their surroundings till her eyes landed on Confrontation. The spirit had gone quiet during their discourse.
 ...and Amy wondered for a second how much of their presence was influencing all of this abject honesty.
 âHow is this affecting you?â Siheta asked, and Amy blinked, her eyes darting between Siheta and Confrontation⌠it was only then Amy realized that Siheta was addressing the spirit..and Amy suddenly grew concerned.
 âWell enough.â Confrontation pronounced, nodding towards Amy. âThis one is very concerned with keeping to herself⌠odd, as this space is herself.â They blinked, looking up and then around. âHonestly⌠I expected some friction.â
 Siheta nodded, her gauging gaze assessing Amy anew. âCommendable.â
 âOi.â Amy grunted. âIâm right here.â
 Siheta chuckled, taking a long moment to corral her thoughts. âSo⌠just so weâre all on the same page now. People in Thedas live in a physical world that is next to and within a realm of Dreaming that they call the Fade. It's seperated from them only by a very flimsy barrier they call the Veil. Mages have a stronger connection to that Dreaming and use its energy to manifest effects in the physical world. To be clear, everyone lives with the Dreaming overlapping them.â
 âMages are just aware of it and connected to it.â
 âRight.â Siheta confirmed. âWhen you arrived here, you didnât connect and the Dreaming didnât touch you.â
 âSo⌠I was like a vacuum?â
 Siheta nodded. âA void, yes. But as time passed, I realized it wasnât so. The Dreaming adjusted itself around you, seeping in where it could⌠the physical realm, of course. The rest of you, your soul, it was encased in a shell, like an egg. But I could focus on you and feel you in a similar fashion to others.â She took a deep breath. âIt took pointed focus to skim that eggshell of yours, but it was possible.â
 âLike a needle on an old-fashioned record player.âAmy mumbled to herself.
 âIf it helps the explanation, why not?â Siheta said with a shrug. âI observed many things about your unique condition, and the more often I pressed in on that shellâŚâ
 âThe better you got at understanding?â
 Siheta winced, suddenly contrite. âYes...but that wasnât without consequence. You began to sing more and more, and it became clearer that your magic manifested through your song. And as you used your gifts, they became stronger. Whether that was from, natural practice or my interference⌠I donât know.â
 Amy hesitated, uncertain. â...Your..?â How did Siheta âinterfereâ exactly?
 âYou mentioned a needle...well, my attempts to connect through your barrier isnât unlike pressing a glass against a door⌠or⌠a needle through the wood to peek inside. And once there were cracks, parts of your magic cloud leak out...and parts of the Dreaming could leak in.â Amy stared at her, both shocked and somethingâŚa feeling she couldnât quite name. There was fear, and she felt small and yet amazed at the same time. It was like⌠seeing a storm coming, and worrying that your house might not stand against it. âThereâs no way to test if that process weakened the barrier, because itâs gone now.â
 Amy swallowed thickly. â...the explosion?â
 Siheta nodded. âThe shell is gone. Now, itâs more of a...thin gooey barrierâŚâ
 âSemipermeable membrane.â
 Sihetaâs eyebrows nose and she nodded slow. âSemi-Permeable⌠a good name for it. Things donât just float out or drift in, but itâs much easier.â Siheta smirked. âLike your own personal veil.â She sighed, softly. âThat being said, you still aren't like other mages. That will make this instruction challenging. Not impossible⌠just difficult.â
 Amy nodded, the shock so thick she couldnât feel crestfallen.
 âIt will be difficult to invite Solas here, because itâs something that can be done, but itâs advanced. Also... I know how I would do it, but I don't entirely know what would work for you.â Siheta explained. âInstead, I think I should instruct you in the basics first. It will provide you with a better foundation to build on, and you would be safer.
 Amy nodded. It felt like a bit of a let-down, but it made sense.
 âBesides, once Solas is here, I doubt heâll be interested in the basics.â
 Amy smirked. âYou think heâd disregard that?â
 Siheta shrugged. âSolas can get rather caught up in forgetting that everyone isnât like him, and that such things are normal. Heâs like a qunari that way, confused how a woman can fight or a mage could be in command.â she sighed. âA fish can teach a bird to swim, so long as it remembers that theyâre different animals and maintains respect for that simple fact.â
 Amy chuckled softly. âThe simple often confounds the wise.â She relented, relaxing as she resigned herself to Sihetaâs basic instruction. âAll right. Teach me.â she said, newly determined.
Relationships: I feel like itâs a little early for thatâŚ
Summary: As dreams went, she supposed being inside Dragon Age wasnât too bad⌠At least she wasnât the Herald (again). Or the Warden (again). Or Hawke (again).
Notes: This one is a big bang, you guys. I donât even want to linger too much here, because itâs kind of a big deal.
As always, prompts, links, and tidbits are always available here on Striving Scribe. Hey :) if you like what Iâm about and you want to help me put my cat in a sweater, you could totally follow this tumblr and heart some entries :3 Thatâd be cool of you.
And heyâŚI love you :)
Everything that had transpired beforehand seemed inconsequential.
The tedious occupation of hours, or the effort to occupy hours, the fight with Cullen and their subsequent peace, tending her horse, receiving her âorderâ from Seggrit, returning once to sing to the mages and the soldiers, Samuelâs return. All of it was nothing.
A sharp scream cut short, like the aftermath of an echo in a canyon and her body was rocketing across the frozen lake. She lost her breath, the wind knocked out of her as she slammed into the rock on the other side of the lake.
In that moment, aside from the warning of her scream, the valley of Haven stood still.
The soldiers still werenât sure what had happened, and everyone held their breath as they surveyed their surroundings. It all happened so quickly, everyone was standing around, gawking and wondering why they were suddenly Charmer-less.
Amy came up for breath on her hands and knees, gasping and panting as though sheâd just fought for her life. Squeezing her eyes shut, it was bright, too-too bright! She could barely hold herself up, her scalp felt as though it would rip away from her skull, as searing cold and frigid fire leaked through her flesh.
She heaved, vomiting into the snow at the base of the cliff. Once. Twice. She stopped counting after the fourth dry heave.
She tried to push away, to crawl away from the smell of bile. It hurt. Hurt so much.
Her mind was on fire, stories and memories from long ago melding and echoing inside her. Her head of her heart, it didnât matter. Everything was Muspelheim and Niflheim.
âI must not fear.â she choked out. âFear is the mind-killer. The little black death.â the words were surprisingly easy to say, even though her mouth felt so raw. They stampeded out, stumbling into a rushed line. âI will face my fear. I will let it pass through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
Each shift of her weight was a new agony. Her hand shot out into the clean snow, she shoved into her mouth then spat the cool water of it out. She did this with every shift, hoping to quell the fire in her throat.
Her skin was full of electric pins and needles, like experiencing an allergic reaction or feeling quickly returning to a long-dead limb⌠It was everywhere, the feeling was too much, and the light burnt her eyes. Everything. Everything. Everything.
Everything except the fingers of her left hand. There was no feeling there, in the offending digits that had gotten her into this atrocity.
She yelped when she felt a rope-burn on her bicep. She tried to help (or at least, she tried not to hinder), because she knew it was not a rope, only Magpieâs grip.
Magpie had sprinted for her, hauling her into the shade under the dock that was on the other side of the frozen lake. She propped Amy against one of the wooden posts.
âWhat was that?â Magpie asked, too scared to swear or bluster around the question.
Amy only whimpered. âThe mark.â she panted. âI touched Samâs mark.â
Amy heard rhythmic clinking, and she knew that Cullen was running towards herâknew by the sound of his armor and the smell of him⌠which...now that she thought about it, it was strange to know his smell when he was still so far away.
Far away.
âSam.â Amy murmured, finally cracking her eyes open. She kept her head down, blessing the shade this rickety dock provided.
She hid herself here in the dark. She had to. She saw too much. The snow was blistering white like bone bleached in a desert. She kept her gaze down, in the ice of the lake. The dark of the deep ice was comforting. The patterns there fractured into fractals of navy, cerulean, and cobalt. Just as hypnotic as the patterns in the snow, but easier to be lost in without fear of scalding.
And she could see Sam, still sitting, dazed and delirious as he gaped into the open air.
âSiheta. Solas.â Amy said. âGet them.â
Magpieâs eyes widened and she nodded, launching herself into a full run back across the ice.
âDonât touch her.â Amy heard her say as she passed Cullen.
Amy flung an arm around the post clinging to it in desperation. If she didnât keep a hold of it, she would melt, melt here just outside the reach of the wretched sun only to refreeze tonight. Or within seconds. A million thoughts and a million memories coalesced and raced through her mind.
She realized, both absently and absent, that there were too many sensations to focus on. She needed to breathe properly and pull her focus. Channel herself.
Cullen was close now, and a part of her was very afraid. What had the mark done to her? Would it upset him? Would those old Templar sensitivities to magic and magic users trigger something?
She nuzzled her brow against the sturdy post, praying to gods she didnât believe in and wondering which she could. âThe evil that men do lives after them, The good is oft interred with their bones.â she murmured to herself.
There were some monologues that stuck with her. Sheâd had a crush on a boy named Phillip in high school. Heâd been a theater geek, proving that charisma wasnât a dump stat. She remembered his Mark Anthony...
âWhen that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept! Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.â She wished that she were made of âsterner stuffâ. As it was, it seemed that every situation sent her into a tailspin. She could barely stand herself.
Her scalp felt so tight! Her spare hand reached for the tie that held her braid taunt and snapped it in one pull. She shook her head, the fingers of her right hand forking against her scalp, reveling in both the strange tension and the looseningâit had been ages since sheâd worn her hair down!
âO judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, and men have lost their reason.â she whimpered.
âAmy.â Cullenâs voice did not soothe her, though she was certain that was what he was trying for.
âBear with me; my heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, and I must pause till it come back to me.â
It was not the response he was looking for. She heard the creak of his knees, the stretch of hide, and the brittle give of ice as he sank onto one knee next to her.
âLook at me.â He pleaded, and it hurt to hear it. Hurt to hear the fear in his voice.
âFear is the mind-killer.â she whispered. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the shade they were in, but that wasnât the real problem. Her focus tended to over-focus, if that was a thing.
Her eyes skittered to his, not missing his sharp intake of breath and the lean towards her as he peered into her face, but focusing intently on the irises of his eyes. She could see all the honey gold, the ochre, the tawny gilt and browns.
âI see the lion in you.â she whispered, leaning towards him as well. She was aware of his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows ticking up in surprise, but not because she was seeing it. Or was she? No. His eyes were what she was seeing.
She felt the scent of frost, heavy, burning the back of her throat, her eyes widening fractionally. âBax.â she whispered before Bax fade stepped near the end of the dock with a wet smack and the aplomb of a raging druffalo.
âDonât touch her.â He warned, and Amy did not so much see Cullen turning to glare at Bax as she felt it... But she did see it...or...or was aware of it? It was so difficult to process!
âWhere is the stillness of wood? Of stone? Of crystal? Of metal?â Now, Amy felt as though the words were whining out of her weary throat. âAll this noise. All this life. Is pain. We sense the power in this place. Power enough to destroy us. To end the pain. To be still. Again.â
Bax stared at her for a long second. âThat is not as encouraging as Iâd like.â he muttered under his breath.
âSam.â
âSamâs fine, Amy.â Bax assured, stepping closer and yet still keeping his distance. She didnât know what he was looking for, only that he was looking at her and in a very different way than he had before. He was searching.
âNo.â Amy whispered.
Sam was not fine. Sam was in shock, not medical shock but shock nonetheless. Even with Cassandra at his side, he was barely responsive, still sitting on the ice, a useless lump, like fuzz on furniture.
âAmy.â Baxâs voice was taut. âAmy, what are you doing?â
Her focus shifted, across the ice. To Sam. She needed to tell him she was alright, even if she wasnât. That she would be fine, even if there was no certainty that it was so. They both needed to believe that.
âI have crossed the horizon to find you.â she sang. Sam, started, jerking back as he looked up at her. âI know your name.â
His eyes widened and she was suddenly very close to him, closer than she was to Cullen.
âThey have stolen the heart from inside you,â she continued, aware of Cassandra springing back. âBut this does not define you.â she reached forward, grasping his handâ the hand with the mark, and he didnât snatch it away even with what had happened. Shock, most likely. âThis is not who you are.â she assured him. âYou know who you are.â
â...Amy?â he asked. Obviously still in shock, though Amy wasnât sure why.
âGet away from him!â Cassandra commanded.
âCassandra, donât!â Sam barked back, which was probably the only thing saving Amy from a shield-bash.
âMakerâs...what inâŚâ Varric, why and how was Varric even here? It wasnât that the concept of him on the field was implausible, but Amy had never seen him there.
âAmy!â Baxâs voice was strained, urgent. Amy looked at him, seeing him⌠Seeing him under the dock across the lake.
Across the lake from where she stood beside Sam, except that she wasnât beside SamâŚ
Amyâs eyes grew, suddenly surprised that she wasnât in as much pain or having half the trouble focusing as she had been only seconds before.
âIs that you?â Cullenâs grim tone demanded to be heard. With one knee still planted on the ice, making to rise and yet still. Still deciding on which action to take, yet action was imminent in his intent.
Amy looked across the ice, because she didnât know what he was seeing.
There, crouching near Sam on the other side of the lake, was⌠a figure. Even from here with her senses out of control, she could see that it was a woman, a woman made of something that was not smoke or sand or ash and yet it moved like those things, at least at its edges...it was somehow not quite solid but very present.
It was a shade of teal so dark it nearly wasn't fair to call it teal, and it appeared almost metallic in the light. The figure stood and turned, facing them... While it looked similar to Amy it wasn't quite right. The point of the nose and jaw were too sharp, the face too oval and not round enough. Cheekbones that could hurt a body.
"Mother." Amy breathed. It looked like her mother. Enough that Amy's heart ached.
"It is Amy." Bax said. "It's like... like magic, but not like our magic. It's like... a piece of Amy that's outside herself." Bax elaborated. "When I first arrived, it was like it was broiling around her incessantly clamoring, and then it began to shift when her focus shifted to Sam.
"It's ok, Sammy." the apparition soothed, though Amy was afraid that it would be anything but soothing.
Sam took in a shuddering breath, which Amy saw and heard though there was no way to explain the physics of that.
"Blessed Andraste." Amy wasn't sure who had said it, but it was one of the soldiers near Cassandra. At least she assumed he was, since Cassandra relaxed her crouch a touch and peered at the figure with more curiosity than wrath. âItâs Andraste.â
"Fear is the mind-killer." Amy murmured.
Two things occurred to her simultaneously.
Firstly, in a state of fear, she would always take comfort from her parents. Even if they could not help her, if they had no answers, if they were just as lost as she, their presence was a comfort.
Secondly, all of her efforts to distance herself from Andraste weren't going to work. It seemed to be the only way people could identify her without feeling threatened. This tied into another observation... dressing herself in their myths might be the best way to ensure her survival in a society that was taught to inherently fear magic.
âAmy, listen to me.â Baxtien ordered.
She looked at him.
âAre you in great pain?â
âItâs not as bad as before.â
He nodded. âAs near as I can tell, thatâŚâ he pointed to the figure across the lake while not looking away from Amy. âthat is a manifestation of your magic.â
âAnd it broke through the barrier thatâs around your magic.â Bax breathed. âThe process of the body acclimating to magic⌠it isnât pleasant...at least, not always. It varies from person to person, but usually a mageâs body gradually adjusts to the magic that moves through them. The process is gradual, naturally ...well, typically. But this is...different.â
âYouâre saying Amyâs magic is moving through her now.â
Bax was nodding. âWhen this,â he motioned to the woman on the other side of the ice. âmanifested, the pain you felt wasnât as harsh, yes?â
Amy nodded. Bax turned, looking back across the lake at the figure.
âBecause you found a way to channel the magic into the physical world, outside of you.â Baxâs tone was filled with awe and a touch of speculation. It was obvious that he wasnât sure of that, because he wasnât sure how magic and Amy and Amyâs magic were functioning (separately or together). âBut how?â
âI sang.â Amy reminded.
Baxâs eyes widened as her spun to gale at her. âOf course! Your power has always been in your voice!â
Her legs were folded awkwardly, half beneath her. Her body gave a flounce as she tried to use them, straightening one, then folding it again, before shifting her weight, utterly upright.
âThe man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.â Amy barely recognized her own voice, it was so laden with strain. She tried to focus again, this time on what Bax was saying. If the power was loose, and her body wasnât used to itâŚ
Her âpowerâ was⌠loose? She needed to center herself, refocus, find a way to bear up under the strain.
...the usual.
Cullen stood, still partially crouched, his hands out but at a distance. âHow are we supposed to help her if we canât touch her?â He demanded, glaring at Bax.
âIt could possibly hurt her just as much to be touched as it would hurt us to touch her.â Bax countered.
She needed somethingâŚ.
âDid you ever know that you're my hero,â The song was soft from the pain around her eyes and the constrictions of her chest. She planted one foot on the ice, cringing as she shifted her weight onto it. âAnd everything I would like to be?â She took a deep breath, then swiftly drew up, in a heavy squat now but at least she was on her feet. âI can fly higher than an eagle, For you are the wind beneath my wings.â
âUp.â The tone was absolute.
Bax leapt away, ending up half behind Cullen on the other side of the dock. Amy tried to obey, but still was crouching as she leaned heavily against the post.
âThat is...most unsettling.â Bax determined. Cullen now stood upright with a hand carefully placed on his sword hilt.
Another figure, this one a towering male.
âDa.â Amy breathed, weirdly comfortable with her fatherâs visage.
âStand up properly.â He commanded again, and Amy took jagged steps forward, keeping her hands against the post as she straightened out, using the post to push herself into an upright position.
Again, the pain had lessened, and now her body felt as though sheâd pulled or strained so many muscles. The day after a marathon, the hardest day. The day you struggled to do everything, but you made yourself, because it was the only way to get better.
âWhen you learn how to suffer you suffer much less.â She reminded as she stared at the wood grain. âThich Nhat Hanh.â
âTest your joints, assess the pain.â Her fatherâs voice has been a fading memory, but now...it was as if there had been no separation. âWhat do you need to do?â
âWe⌠we need to get back.â She said leaning forward until she could prop herself against another post. This one, farther out on the ice. She made to rise again, but even using her arms to support herself against the post, it felt impossible.
She could remember things now that sheâd forgotten even before crossing over to Thedas. She remembered falling off her horse for the first time, falling off a bike, falling off the monkey bars, falling and scraping her kneesâŚ. falling, falling, falling, and the pain of those falls.
She remembered her motherâs smile and her fatherâs gentle hands. Her eyes landed again on the figure across the ice. Not her mother, but herself. In the visage of her mother, because she needed that. âFocus on your goal, be aware of your own physicality. Move forward.â her fatherâs words in her fatherâs voice, a memory made manifest because she needed it.
She leaned away from the post, no longer propped up. The pain was manageable, but she couldnât lock her knees. She tested them, bending into more of a boxerâs stance. She drew her elbows tightly to her sides, her wrists rolling so that her palms were up. After a deep breath, she clenched her open hands into fists.
âGo.â
Her right arm came up in a block, the gesture automatic, breath gusting out of her.
âAgain.â
This time the left arm came up while the right returned to a resting position.
âStep.â
Her right foot drew back, a better fighting stance for what she specializes in.
âForward.â
Amy realized then that her awareness wasâŚ. different. Expanded. She had her eyes trained forward, so she could still see the figure across the lake, and the soldiers not sure what was happening or what they should do. Mages were filing through the ranks as well, approaching the frozen lake to see what was going on.
She was also aware that the figure of her father was not just beside her, urging her on, but also doing this routine with her. It shouldnât have been shocking for a multitude of reasons. It wasnât as if her father didnât know these drills, after all, but of course, this wasnât her father. It was her. Their movements were seamless because there was no âtheyâ, only her.
It occurred to her then, that with enough focus⌠she could be aware of many things at once from many perspectives and all of them were technically hers...because her âmagicâ was no longer bound up inside of her.
âFlowing through all, there is balance.â she recited. âThere is no peace without a passion to create. There is no passion without peace to guide.â she felt another wave of blistering cold followed by heat. She breathed through it, shifting forward again. âKnowledge stagnates without the strength to act. Power blinds without the serenity to see.â she rose, standing normally, upright. âThere is freedom in life. There is purpose in death.â Her elbows returned to her side, her palms up as she breathed deeply, experiencing the pain and letting it go even while more waves built inside her. âI am the fulcrum. The giver and the taker.â
And she began to walk forward. It wasnât easy, but it wasnât as hard as it had seemed moments ago.
Magie broke through the ranks with both Solas and Siheta behind. Solas scanned the situation from the masses before his eyes landed on Amy. Siheta sauntered forward, eyeing the apparition of Amy that took the form of Amyâs mother. She circled it, critically evaluating it even as she bent to help Sam into a standing position.
Amy spoke again, her words echoing in both of those metallic manifestations of her.
"My Mind is my power, my power is my Mind.â she murmured, another long-forgotten moment glaring to life. âWhen uncorrupted by other elements, my mind becomes my purest power."
âI think she has it⌠mostly.â Bax said, still somewhat behind Cullen. Cullen had risen to slowly follow Amy, though he was still at a distance. âThis would be easier ifâŚâ Bax eyed Cullen for a moment before asking, âCommander, would you say that itâs better to ask for forgiveness or permission?â
Cullen halted and careened to glare back at him. âWhy?â
Bax sighed. âNo reason.â
Again, Amy felt the bitter sear of frost in the back of her throat, and then Bax snapped out of existence, appearing across the lake near Siheta.
âDid he justâŚâ Cullen began before his expression boggled into confusion. âItâs impossible to fade-step that far.â he assured himself, though the evidence was dictating otherwise.
âHonestly, once youâve created a compromising shield of warmth and you understand balanced propulsionâŚâ Baxâs defense seemed to ebb before he shook his head. âItâs not that difficult.â
âQuite.â Siheta seconded, though her eyes remained on the apparition. It felt to Amy as though the voices were all around her...but she and Cullen still stood separate from the crowd.
âWhat has happened here?â Solas asked, forcing attention back to the matter at hand.
âAmy touched Samâs mark, and when she did⌠There was this explosion?â Bax said and asked at the same time. It wasnât that he didnât have faith in Amyâs ability to grasp what happened, it was that he didnât know if that was the correct term for what had happened.
âThatâŚâ Sam muttered, dazedly staring at Amy as she approached. He nodded. âThat.â he finally concluded, still not able to fully engage with what had happened and was happening.
âShe flew across the lake and she couldnât stand.â Magpie was saying as Solas took measured steps forward. It was like he thought this apparition was some wild halla, and he were afraid to spook it. Or that it wasnât a halla, but a demon, ready to lash out. âShe was in a lot of pain, and she couldnât see or do anything really, I mean, except retch up everything sheâs eaten for a week.â
âAll that is gold does not glitterâ Now that they were this close, the three voices in tandem sounded⌠strange. They echoed off each other and flowed in perfect sync. âNot all those who wander are lost;â The eyes of both specters as well as Amyâs eyes bore into Solas as they said this. He froze, his eyes on the nearestâher mother.
Amy knew this could not continue. She could not divide herself this way, even if there was pain in it.
âAmy?â Cullenâs voice was soft, as though he were afraid she would spook.
âWhat is she doing?â Cassandra asked, stepping closer. Her eyes were on Amy now.
âThe old that is strong does not wither.â She looked at the figure of her father, and he walked behind her and then into her space, and she jolted as that energy siphoned back into her body. As his form dissipated, she tried to reimagine its shape. Mostly because she wasnât sure if she could contain this and still function. His form changed, encasing her like armor that fit like a second skin before fading entirely. âDeep roots are not reached by the frost.â
She stumbled forward, but righted herself. She panted for a second, before reminding herself of proper breathing techniques. Then, she walked. Again. She was getting close.
âThese are part of her.â Bax said in a way that conveyed even he knew it was needless to explain that.
âFrom the ashes, a fire shall be woken,â Amy continued, her pace stilted at first before she managed to even it out into something that felt more natural. âA light from the shadows shall spring;â she was finally able to see their faces with her own eyes. âRenewed shall be blade that was broken. The crownless again shall be king.â she said, finally standing mere paces away from the image of her mother.
The face contorted in sympathy. âI wish I could be with you, my Dove.â she said.
Amy swallowed past the grief and half laughed. âYou are with always me, Mother.â
With that, she extended her upturned palms. Her mother smiled, and took her hands before walking into her space. The heat that flashed through her had a frigid cold on its heels. Amy was momentarily stunned by it, until she reminded herself that sheâd need to focus and determine its course.
That energy wrapped around her torso, and then branched out of her back, rooted in her shoulder blades and rib cage before arcing up into enormous wings. They gave a single flap, and Amy felt as though somehow they were holding her up, because her legs felt stiff and dead while her torso felt heavy and sluggish. She swallowed and sobbed out jagged breathes before she remembered how to breathe.
â....just like Sailor Moon.â Magpie murmured.
Amy laughed, bright and bell-like. If Sailor Moonâs transformation was this painful, that dumpling-head never wouldâve done it again.
Her hands and feet felt deadened. Her knees and shoulders were on fire, but it was a pulsing warmth instead of the galvanizing sear it had been before. Her torso felt like spearmintâŚ.
âAmy?â Solas asked, hesitantly stepping forward. âAre you in control?â
Amyâs eyes popped open, startling those in front of her. The irises of her eyes were glowing, making them a vibrant teal. "My Mind is my power, my power is my Mind.â she repeated, her voice droning. âWhen uncorrupted by other elements, my mind becomes my purest power."
Magpie leaned up, drawing very close behind Solas. âPlease fix her.â she pleaded in a stage whisper. Solas only grimace. Amy wasnât certain if his reaction was in response to Amyâs condition or due to Magpieâs proximity to him.
âShe doesnât need to be fixed.â Siheta assured. âShe just needs to adapt.â she walked forward, drawing closer to Amyâs left side. âAmy, Iâm going to touch you, and youâre going to tell me how it feels.â
âRight now? In front of everyone?â This was Tunan, sarcastic as ever. In the short time that he and his sister had spent around Amy, sheâd come to enjoy his biting wit.
âHa. Ha.â Varric grumbled. âTime and place, kid.â
Siheta set her hand over the top of Amyâs head. Amy hissed a breath in.
âTight.â
She put her hand against Amyâs cheek.
âHot.â
Another hand on her shoulder.
âHot again.â
She set her hand against Amyâs back, between her shoulder blades.
Amy shuddered. âCold-cold-cold.â This continued, with Siheta proding or simply laying her hand against several spots⌠What was strange was that the sensations changed. A spot that had been hot on the first encounter, it was sharp or tight or cold on the next.
Siheta drew her hand back, staring at the palm of her hand.
âAnything?â Solas asked. Siheta met his eyes as she stared over Amy, then she shook her head.
âHuh.â Bax murmured. âSo, it might be safe?â
âFor the person who touches her? Yes.â Siheta determined. âAmy still feels the discomfort.â
Solasâs hand skimmed the air around Amyâs head and shoulders. âThe magic is all around you, and yet there is little substance to it⌠I wonder.â
âWonder later.â Tunan said. âLets get her back to the chantry.â
Amy groaned. It felt like it had taken hours just to cross that lake. She took a step forward, and then another. Walking up the incline, slight as it was, was still such a chore.
Words gushed out of her mouth, to have anything to focus on except the strain on her body. âThe only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous."
âEasy there, Charmer.â Bull murmured, drawing back. âAny of us could carry you.â
âWhen I can no longer walk, you may carry me.â she replied, stopping as she reached to top of the incline. She was both shocked and reluctantly accepting of the soldiers who gawked and knelt along the way.
Past soldiers and mages alike and through Haven, she walked. Slow and stilted at first, but then smoother, gaining momentum as she began to negotiate through the pain. She stumbled after crossing the threshold, and Cullen rushed to catch herâŚ.and the pain of impact caused her to promptly blackout.
There are a lot of references in this chapter. Amy recites the Litany against Fear from Dune and the description of L-sama (by L-sama) from Slayers multiple times in this. There are also quotes from Julius Caesar, Young Justice, The Dark Tower, Thich Nhat Hanh, the Grey Jedi code, and Bilboâs Poem to describe Aragorn. The songs Amy sang are from Moana and Bette Midlerâs Wind Beneath My Wings.
Summary: After responding to an incident, members of the team are saved by an unknown metahuman. But no protocols are in place to deal with the series of unfortunate events that assail Anitia Moore. What exactly should the team do when a someone with powers needs training but doesnât want to be a member of the team?
Authorâs Notes: Happy New Year!
It was a Monday...which meant the house was pretty clean. Certain maintenance chores were done every day, but the weekends were when big-ticket items were taken care of. Anita clung to this every time she remembered that strangers in masks were in her home.
They were downstairs. The Vigilantes.
...on a gorram Monday.
It was still early, and though Mom had been informed of something happening.. Anita suspected that she hadnât been informed of everything that had happened. She couldnât imagine Mom not dropping everything and racing home if she knew what went down.
Anita took a fortifying breath. This was her home. She would not cower up in her bedroom, fretting about things like laundry in the boysâ rooms. She reached out and carefully took the carvings of the little purple elephant and the tiny green ram. Her fingers ran over the stones and her shoulder blades relaxed just a touch.
She closed her eyes, took another deep breath, listening to her own sounds as she tried to ground herself. She put the ram in her right pocket and the elephant in her left, shimmying her shoulders in an effort to loosen up. Then she opened the door, and descended downstairs.
She didnât make eye contact as she went into the kitchen, but she was still aware of them. Periphery vision was a thing, after all.
She counted four of them, plus Superboy. ...fantastic.
She really wanted to stay as close to normal as she could, but she wasnât sure how to do that other than ignoring them.
She opened the fridge, trying to keep as close to routine as possibleâŚ. that meant thinking about a meal of some sort. They had left-over spaghetti...but Travis could be so finicky about leftovers.
âAnita?â
She started, jumping away from the cover the fridge door provided and into the corner cabinet. When the fridge door closed, a very repentant Nightwing was standing there with both hands up.
âSorry.â he said, his voice smooth.
âI uhâŚâ Anita shook her head. âI didnât hear you.â
âYou were pretty focused.â he allowed, an easy smile on his face. âPlus, Iâm fairly well trained in sneaking up on people.â
Now that she wasnât intent on ignoring them, her eyes pinged to Robin standing just behind him. Great⌠Gotham Sleuths were in her house. She ground her back teeth together, her throat flexing before she asked, âDoes anyone want coffee?â
âYes.â Robin said, causing Artemis to scoff at him. âWhat?â
âYou drink too much coffee as it is.â she muttered. âItâs already screwed up your sleep schedule, and itâll stunt your growth.â
Anita didnât bother examining this interaction too much as she was already focusing on making coffee. A full pot. She wasnât sure why, but she wanted some for herself⌠probably just for something to stir and stare at. Also, it tasted pretty good.
...of course, now that everything was set in motion, they were just waiting for the coffee to filter through. She took a deep breath. âI donât⌠I donât really know if thereâs a procedure, orâŚâ she shrugged.
âI donât think there are regulations for this situation.â Nightwing allowed. It was then that Anita met his eyes⌠or his mask. Whatever. She allowed herself to look at them, and she counted Nightwing, Robin, Superboy, Artemis, and Miss Martian in her kitchen.
Almost on instinct, her hand slipped into her pocket, and she brought out the little green ram.
âWhatâs that?â Superboy asked.
She shook her head. âJust Amun.â
âBut...what stone is that?â
âHuh?â she looked up and realized that it was Robin who had asked. âOh. Serpentine.â she reached into her other pocket and pulled out the purple elephant. âThis oneâs Ganesha. Heâs made of Amethyst.â
âWhat are they for?â
She blinked, regarding him with slow apathy. â...they make me feel better.â perhaps more spite leaked into her tone than sheâd intended.
âHow?â
âI donât know.â Anita snapped. âI hold them, and I feel better.â Anita felt irritation gnaw at her neck, her shoulder hunching up slightly. Coping mechanisms were coping mechanisms, and she hated that he was pointing out that she needed them in order to⌠well⌠Cope!
âI think Robinâs just curious as to your process. Specifically which stones do what.â Miss Martian confided.
Oh. Right.
âI ...I mean, I get that. Donât get me wrong, Iâm curious too.â she shrugged. âBut Iâm a little on edge right now, and I donât have a lot of answers anyway.â Admitting that took a bit of the wind out of her. Or fire⌠whichever.
âYou⌠you donât know?â it sounded so accusatory, even the team was staring at Robin with that âyou know what youâve doneâ expression.
Anita took another deep breath. âThose bugs of yours, are they working now?â
âThey should be.â
âShould be?â Anitaâs tone matched his from earlier.
âThey are.â Robin said, voice more firm now. âIf our comms are working, then the listening devices are as well.â
âGood.â Anita grunted. âListen, about this...this Luthor thing?â they all seemed to stand up a touch straighter. âI think I should get this out as soon as I can.â
âI could scan your memories and set up a mental link so that we could see the memories directly.â Miss Martian offered.
Anita stared at her. âIâŚ..ok, so. Itâs nothing personal, or anything,â Anita held out a placating hand that was also a motion for every part of that idea to stop. âbut Iâd rather chew aluminum than do that. If itâs all the same to you.â
âOh.â Miss Martian looked away, shrinking from the foreground of the conversation. Was that why she was here? To do...mental things?
âDoes aluminum do something for you too?â Superboy asked with a smirk.
Anita regarded him with confusion before she grinned. â... I mean, yeah.â
âIt does?â Artemis chuckled, surprised.
âYes, assholes.â Anita laughed. âIt does. A lot of things do.â
âWhat does Aluminum do?â Robin asked.
Anita shook her head. âI mean, itâs not super useful...and itâs not like I can get anything from the minuta of tin foil or anything, but⌠aluminum brings a sort of...kind of⌠like a metal sense, I guess?â she struggled to name it as it wasnât something she really gave much thought to. âI can tell what metals are around me.â she shook her head. âItâs not super useful or anything.â
âBut still cool.â Artemis announced.
âTrue.â Nightwing murmured. âAnd you are correct. We should record your account of the events that occurred with Luthor as soon as possible.â
Those words brought such somberness back into the kitchen.
Anita nodded. âIâd seen him earlier today at school.â she said. âHe made a few vague threats towards my family before one of the teachers intervened.â she swallowed, remembering how Superboy came into her walk home like a wrecking ball. They probably knew that much, though. Maybe they even knew that heâd been at her school. It was hard to tell what was viable.
âDo you recall what he said?â Nightwing asked.
âUh, he was offering meâwell, Lexcorp was going to offerâbut, I mean, he was there to discuss scholarship options.â She rubbed the back of her neck. âIt got really weird when he managed to convince Mr. Davis to leave his own office so that he could talk to me.â she let out a long breath that sheâd been breathing at an accelerated pace. âHe said something about my family, saying that I couldn't rely on them forever and my mother wouldnât be able to support me, and⌠that Iâd want to keep them safe.â she didnât miss the looks they exchanged, though she couldnât decipher what they meant. âThatâs when we were interrupted. I donât think Iâve ever really sat and talked with Ms. McGuire, but I couldâve hugged her.â
âWho is she?â
âThe schoolâs guidance counselor.â Anita said with a grin. âShe just barged in there and told Luthor it was inappropriate to meet privately with a âfemale studentâ, and it was the schoolâs responsibility to guard even the âperceived safetyâ of their students.â
Artemisâs hands settled on her hips as she leaned back slightly. âI think I like this teacher.â
âUm. When I got home, he was just here.â she jutted her chin out to the doorway between the kitchen and living room. âStrolled on over like heâd been waiting for me. I told him to say what he was going to say, because it was obvious he wasnât going to just go away.â
Anita set Ganesha down on the counter, holding him upright and placing a single finger on the carvingâs back. âHe said heâd knocked communications out. I played to his ego, tried to stall. Â It didnât make sense, it still doesn't.â she tried to focus on specifics without being too comprehensive.
They didnât need to know how he held himself, or more importantly how she felt in response to his presence.
âHe said an associate of his was interested in me, and he was doing damage control. Seeing if he needed to get involved.â her eyes darted back and forth rapidly.
âWhat is it?â
âI donâtâŚ.No. He didnât.â she blinked. âHe never used a pronoun when he referred to his associate.â  she squinted. âI donât know if itâs because this associate wanted anonymity, or if he just wanted to dick around.â
âWas that it?â
Her eyes darted to Superboy and away again. âNothing of note. He just wanted to...I donât know.. See what was so special about me andâŚâ
âWhat?â Superboyâs query made her lose her train of thought.
âHe said⌠âespecially after yesterdayâ. I asked if he knew the man in the masks, and he said at first âheâs with meâ and then later that he knew him or was aware of him via associates.â Anita blinked. âI mean, Luthorâs a big fish, so the likelihood of âthe associateâ thatâs interested in me being the same one who knows the man in the masks is⌠probably low.â
âWhat exactly did Luthor say?â Nightwing asked.
âI asked if the asshole in the masks was with him, and he said yes, and then he elaborated that he was aware of him through, but he started looking for a word and I suggested the term âassociatesâ and he agreed that he knew him via associates.â
Anita stared at them as they all looked between each other. Of course, what she didn't know is that Miss Martian was facilitating a mental conversation between them, one that she was not privy to.
âUh.â she cleared her throat, looking at Superboy. âYou said someone was going to be⌠uh, telling my mom what was going on.â
Of course, that wasnât true. Superboy hadnât told her anything, sheâd overheard Robin say it over the comms to Superboy. She also heard that it was Kid Flash who was doing this...which meant, it shouldâve been done quickly.
âI said that.â Robin corrected, and a part of her felt relieved. Not that he was correcting her, but that he was willing to be truthful about the situation. âKid Flash went to explain the situation to your mother, but Superman was already there talking with her.â
âHuhâŚâ Anita murmured, somewhat amused by Superboyâs shift.
He scratched his nose trying to hide his smirk. âLike father, like sonâ was the first thing that came to Anitaâs mind.
âIs something the matter?â
âUh⌠Well. I mean, that was⌠at least, it feels like that was a while ago, and I guess I expected something in the way of response⌠Considering it was Kid Flash that was getting it done⌠I guess I thought itâd be a quick response.â
That got quite a few grins.
âNot for lack of trying.â Miss Martian muttered. âUnfortunately, Superman has him pinned there.â she said. âThe adults are talking, but they want him to run messages when they finally make a decision.â
Anitaâs expression slid into neutral as she absorbed this. She wasnât sure why, but she had expected something else. This was⌠anticlimactic?
âHm.â was all she said in response. Did she even need to fix dinner, or was this just another waste of energy? It didnât matter what she decided to do if the adults were the ones making the decisions.
âHey, are you ok?â Artemisâs question snapped her attention back into the here and now.
âYeah. Iâm fine.â she said with a shrug. She took a deep breath. âI think Iâm...just gonna watch Netflix or something.â she murmured, pouring out some coffee for herself. âHelp yourselves to coffee.â she said, leaving the cabinet that held the coffee mugs open. The cream and sugar were in there too, so it wasnât like theyâd need further direction.
Summary: After responding to an incident, members of the team are saved by an unknown metahuman. But no protocols are in place to deal with the series of unfortunate events that assail Anitia Moore. What exactly should the team do when a someone with powers needs training but doesnât want to be a member of the team?
Authorâs Notes: Hey, guys. It's been forever. I'm just gonna leave this here. I hope you like it :)
Conner had to cross two streets before he finally got a signal on his comm. âConner here. Robin? You there?â
âReading you loud and clear. How is she?â
âShaken and stirred, I bet.â Conner smirked at Artemisâs quip.
âSheâs managing, but it isnât easy.â
âI just got word that Superman is talking options with her mom.â Robin informs and Connerâs brow jumped up and he huffed out a self-depreciating laugh⌠what are the odds?
âWhyâs your signal two streets over?â Artemis asked.
âCouldnât raise you. Took a bit of a jog to get a signal through.â
The pause that followed gave the three of them a moment to think.
âIs that supposed to happen?â Artemis is always happy to point out the obvious.
âNo.â Robin replies, and Conner can almost imagine the sound of the keyboard keys clacking.
âCould it be her?â
âHow do you mean?â Artemis asked.
âShe was in pain, something about the lead affecting her. She walked funny too, dragging her feet a bit. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary, but I got the impression there are physical side effects from her abilities.â His words hault, as he considers how much he should say.
He wasnât just wasnât sure how much she would want to keep confidential. But these were his observations, so that was safe⌠Still, should he divulge more? Would they need more to make a decision properly?
âThe house has been quiet through the morning. The transcript is still running. I didnât suspect anything, considering that itâs supposed to be quiet, but somethingâs jamming the signal.â
âDid she mention anything about it?â Artemis probed.
âDid she mention specifically being able to jam comms?â Robin clarified, choosing to focus on the more troubling matter at hand. âThey were working properly up until a few minutes ago. Unless she managed to acquire new abilities this morning.â
âSheâs...less than forthcoming.â
âStill?â
âStill.â
Conner looked back towards the Moore house. Everything seemed quiet.
âMaybe you should go and check it out, Conner.â Artemis suggested. âJust to be safe.â she waited, and her only response was silence. âConner?â she ground her back teeth together. Slowly Artemis started nodding her head. âHeâs already on his way, isnât he?â
âHis com just went offline again.â Tim informed as he watched the signal disappear from the map readout.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anita stares at Luthor and the woman just behind him in apathetic shock. There are so many emotions bottlenecked in her throat that she canât process a single one of them⌠Her brain has become a chamber of echoes.
Sheâs used to peculiarity. When you have to deal with younger siblings and superpowers on a regular basis, the absurd happens often.
But she is a rational, orderly-type person. Everything has its place...every thing, every person, every practice, every thought. Everything in. its. place.
Home is safe (just like baseball). Safe and for safe things.
Her eyes drift to the far wall and her motherâs ancient bureau.
âAnd then God said, âLetâs cook this day fuck-side upâ, and it was so.â she murmurs to herself before sloughing off her backpack. It isnât supposed to go in the chair by the door, but today appears to be that sort of day.
A startled almost begrudging laugh echoed form Luthor. Vile intruder that he is. He would be amused at her suffering.
âOur conversation is not over.â he announced, as though his appearance were magnanimous and for her benefit. âAnd I will not be denied.â ah. There was the edge she expected from a rational sociopath.
Psychopath?
Sociopath?
...she could debate later.
Anita tugged off her shoes, because she was in her own goddamn house and sheâd chew aluminum before any outsider told her she couldnât do what she wanted in her house.
âSuppose I should let you speak your piece.â she muttered. âYouâve made it clear that you have no intention of being discarded.â
He smiled. âAt last we understand each other.â
She was so frustrated with this situation, but there was a strange⌠braking point. It wasnât that she was unhinged, but she felt so detached from her own circumstances.
She knew she couldnât fight her way away from Luthor. It would be foolish to try. This was a man of intelligence, at least thatâs what he told himself. His ability to be prolific in his circle of influence was due largely to outplaying his adversaries. Even Superboy had said that he owned most of the city...and probably a lot of other places too. If Metropolis were a chess board, it would be hard to find a single square that Luthor couldnât get to.
Her mind latched onto another thought. It was simple, even if utterly absurd. Bring him into an arena in which she isnât powerless. There was a place in this very house where she was the master of the universeâŚ. the table where she would play dungeon master for her brothers and their friends. If she could be that person, the one who created the world around him instead of allowing him to have his own control...maybe she could at least stall him.
...or maybe she was fooling herself, and this was nothing more than an elaborate comfort mechanism. Either way, it was something.
âWe do not, sir. We do not at all.â Anita grumbled, walking to the center of the living room. âIt isnât uncommon for a man to chase after something he wants, but most of those wants are tied to reason. Only a madman chases things that are unequal to his efforts.âŚ.a madman or a fool, and you are not either.â she allowed her eyes to drift as she thought about this. âThere can be no reason equal to these actions. Thereâs no need to waste water on tears while youâre in the desert.â his eyes narrowed as he surveyed her. âThis is trespassing, breaking and entering, and harassment. Even if the charges wouldnât ever see a courtroom... you canât deny that it makes a man of your situation look bad.â She half scoffed, âChasing a teenage girl this way.â
âI am not concerned with my appearance.â
âOh, I think you are.âAnita countered, her eyes widening expressively. âThese actions coil of ego. And I cannot fathom how I have any worth in comparison.â she plants her feet shoulder width apart, an easy act as her ankles still feel weighted. âItâs illogical. You are no small fish. Yet you remain. What could possibly be worth your time, crowding in my little pond?â
âI am flattered by your estimation of me.â he said. He seemed so at home in a space that wasnât for him. It would be unsettling, but Anita forced herself still and chanted mentally to play to his ego as often as she could without it being too obvious. âThis is my assistant. Mercy.â The woman stepped forward and nodded.
âHow ironic.â Anita drawled with a smile of her own.
Again, Luthor chuckled. âI didnât realize you were entertaining as well as intelligent.â
âYou arenât here to comment on things I already know.â
âI assure you, I am no adversary of yours.â his words sound so genial, and yet there is no assurance in his assurances. âNot yet.â And there he went, insinuating that edge into the conversation. âI have disabled the listening devices planted in your home so that we might speak privately. Iâm sure itâs knocked out long-distance communications as well.â
Anitaâs mind hummed as she processed this. Jamming frequency. Listening devices. Long-range communications. What for? Privacy? An attack of opportunity? He had to know she was being monitoredâŚ.
Of course, now she realized how invasive that monitoring had been. The listening devices were in her home.
âNo idea how long itâll take them to realize.â she murmured. âYouâd better say what you need to say.â she walked past him into the kitchen. âCoffee?â thatâs something adults do, right?
âNo, thank you.â he responded, eyeing her as she sat at the table. âAs to my intentâŚ. A recent associate of mine seems to consider you in high regard.â
âAssociate.â She sat back in her chair, forcing her spine to relax against the chair back.
âI would be more forthcoming if I could.â Luthor admitted. âHowever, stipulations were made in our alliance, and they are centered on you. Of course, like any good businessman, I had to investigate this oddity. Know your enemy, know yourself; all that.â
âThatâs reasonable.â she allowed. Sheâs honestly more concerned with the comment about knowing your enemy. âIn this scenario, when you say âenemyâ... are you referring to me, orâŚ?â he laughed, interrupting her question, and she nodded feeling reassured. âThis mysterious associate then.â
âAfter yesterdayâs debacle, I think we can confirm that said attentions are not entirely unfounded.â Luthor said, meandering slowly back into the kitchen and sitting across from her. Mercy remained standing, just behind him and slightly in the doorway between rooms.
Anitaâs eyes narrowed slightly.
So. He did know about the incident on the bridge⌠but how?
âI didnât realize you had any hand in that Metro-Narrows fiasco.â she said, and he smirked.
âI...can neither confirm nor denyââ
âItâs a little late for disclaimers.â Anita grumbled. âBesides, with the communications disabled, itâs not like youâll have to worry about incriminating evidence.â
âTrue, but you could tell anyone you liked.â she watched his throat flex in a very firm swallow. âPerhaps someone who regularly sports an over-embellished S on his chest.â
Anita snorted. âThe likelihood of me remaining on close terms with people I regularly push away hardly seems a decent fear. Not to mention, their knowing one way or the other wouldnât be of any inconvenience to someone like yourself.â Thatâs it. Play to that ego. She eyed the tablecloth, absently wondering why gingham was a pattern her mother loved so much. âThat asshole in the masks was with you?â
Now his smirk unfurled into a full grin.
âYes. The âasshole in the masksâ is âwith meâ.â he says... Something about him seems more relaxed now. âAt least, I am aware of his activities viaâŚ.â he paused, taking and releasing a breath as he searched for the right word.
âAssociates?â
He smirks again. âYes. Associates.â
âHm.â she murmurs, still staring at the tablecloth. âTangled web.â her absent words arenât really meant for anyone. Her eyes snap up, fixating on his tie. âSo youâre hereâŚ. to see me with your own eyes?â
âItâs best we meet now, before youâre steeped in whatever dogma the League will stew you in.â he countered, leaning his elbows forward and folding his hands under his chin.
So.. He isnât just here to see her, see who she is⌠Heâs also here to find out if sheâs a threat, and see if he can secure an in.
Her eyebrows tick up, thereâs a level of annoyance and suspicion evoked from those words. For both of them, it seems. She reminds herself to remain calm.
Well. First, she needs to keep herself safe.
âIâve said it before, and Iâll say it again. I have no desire to festoon myself in spandex and âfightâ crime.â she announced, using air brackets for added emphasis on the word âfightâ. âAll I want is peace.â
âYou wanted more than peace yesterday.â He reminds.
âI suppose allowing Superboy to die would have been giving him a type of peace, but⌠the way of the grave is less than satisfying.â Again, his eyes narrow at her words.
âWell.â Luthor sat back in his chair, eyeing her. âWhat I want you to consider then, is this. Do you honestly think the Justice League will allow you the peace you so crave?â
âWhy should they not?â
âI believe my presence alone will prompt immediate action on their part.â He announces.
Now itâs Anitaâs turn to regard him with narrowed eyes. They wandered to the far wall.
âSir.â Mercy interrupts. âSuperboy appears to be circling the house.â
âHow wide a radius?â
âHeâs observing from other yards.â
âHm.â Luthor smirked. âIt wonât take him long to close in. My boy is not the brightest, but he learned caution well enough.â Anita blinks, her eyebrows lift and her eyes dart back to Luthor in surprise. âAh, I imagine he prefers not to discuss his parentage with errant damsels.â Lex said, in a way thatâs so patronizing and yet fond...he almost seems like an indulgent parent.
Itâs bothersome because she isnât certain where those feelings are truly aimed. It seems⌠just⌠there. But for all Anita knows, he could feel them for her or Superboy⌠what a psycho.
âIâm a millennial, Mr. Luthor.â Anita reminded. âIf thereâs one creed we adhere to, itâs not judging someone for their circumstances.â Lex huffed out another laugh. âEveryone has their own sword of DamoclesâŚ.â Anita admitted, almost an aside to herself. â..and genetics donât matter until they do.â
âAnd who decides when genetics matter?â Luthor asked, his words as sharp as his focus.
âThatâs a philosophical question I haven't the time for. I imagine you donât have the time for it either.â she muttered with a shrug. âItâs enough to know that everyone decides when and how much genetics matter to them as it suits them. Do they matter to you?â
Lex pondered this for a second before a smile curls at his lips. âAre you...stalling me?â
âI confess, weâve had quite the conversation, but I still donât know what you want.â she says, crossing her arms. âI suggest you make your closing statements simple. It would be a shame to beâŚ.â she pauses, huffing out a tiny laugh. â...interrupted.â
Lex actually laughed again. âThen I suppose it is lucky that my message is relatively basic. I only want to convey that you have options that donât begin and end with the League. Their pomp and circumstance are hardly the ways of peace you seem so eager to embrace.â
Three knocks at the front door, hard, heavy, and unrelenting. âAnita?â Superboy, his voice as urgent as the knocks on the door. It is so strange to hear him call her nameâŚ
âBack doorâs open.â Anitaâs tone doesnât slip any higher than a typical conversational tone, but she knows he can hear her. âThis âassociateâ of yours. You never mentioned exactly what âtheyâ wanted.â
âUnfortunate then, that our time is up.â Luthor murmured.
âWell played, or it would be if that were enough to tempt me to initiate or maintain contact.â
Luthor takes merely a second to weigh his options. âMy associate wants âŚ.anonymity.â his eyebrows jump and his eyes roll. âThereâs a question as to how effective that demand will be, considering the absurdity of it.â
The back door swung open, and Superboy stopped only to glare at Luthor. Mercyâs posture became tense, as she stepped into the kitchen.
âLuthor.â Superboy growled. Anita was momentarily distracted by the change in his posture. This is the boy whoâd ambled beside her down the street, slouching with his hands in his pockets? Now⌠His shoulders seem⌠loaded. Not hunched, but more imposing. His neck was almost bent forward, almost as if in preparation for a luge.
âHello, son.â
Superboy actually bared his teeth. âI donât care what youâre doing here. Get out.â Â
Luthorâs eyes almost softened, though only by a fraction. Then he looks back to Anita. âIs that what you would prefer?â
Anita takes a deep breath through her nose, somewhat surprised that she was being consulted⌠The man with the devilâs smile was most concerned with being courteous now? After insinuating himself into her safe spaceâŚ.. the cheek.
âAs fascinating as this conversation has beenâand trust me, it truly has beenâI would prefer my motherâs house to remain unscathed.â she said.
Luthor nods, rising slowly. âPlease, consider our conversation carefully.â he advised in closing.
âThank you for your time.â she responded, and it felt almost cordial, if not for how automated it sounded. He gave her one last smirk, and she hoped that means he found her curious or amusing.
He strolled to the front door, Mercy hovering just behind(again, the most ironic name. Itâs almost poetic âMercy strolls in Luthorâs Shadowâ, or something like that). She eyed Superboy as the front door was opened, only returning to Luthorâs side once heâd passed through the portal. Â
Superboy relaxed when the door was shut, only to start in surprise when Anitaâs chair scraped out a foghorn sound as she pushed it away from the table. She half collapsed onto her knees, slithering into a heap beneath the table.
âAnita.â he murmured, crouching down to check on her.
âWe have to stop meeting like this.â she whispered, but her breathing was off. She drew air in and held it for what felt like long seconds at a time.
He realized that she was counting out how long the process takes for each part. The taking of breath, the holding, and the releasing. A simple coping mechanism, not a health hazard.
âSuperboy, come in.â The comm was loud in the stillness. Even Anita could hear it.
âSuperboy here.â
âFinally.â Robinâs voice was a breath of relief. âWeâre closing in on your location.â
âWe?â
âImpulâuh..Kid Flash, Artemis, and I.â after a second he half muttered. âThe computers run themselves, after all.â
âStatus report?â this came from Artemis.
âLuthor was here, but heâs gone.â
âDamn. What did he do?â
âOther than knocking out the comms and having a chat?â Anita muttered, massaging her temples. âYou put bugs in my house?â
âListening devices.â Superboy admitted. âAnd just two of them, to keep an eye on things.â
âTo keep an ear on things.â Anita corrected, her shoulder leaning heavily against the table leg as she pitched forward. âAnd not very well, it seems.â
âIs she really mad that we spied on her?â Artemis grumbled over the comms.
âAm I angry that you violated my civil liberties?â Anita clarified, and Superboy had to wonder how keen her hearing was. âNo. Iâm angry that you did so, and it didnât do a goddamn bit of good.â
âHere.â Conner offered her a hand, and she stared at it and then at him. He watched as she contemplated this, her hands coming up to grip the table leg and not his offer of help.
âCould you just⌠turn around?â she asked, and he complied because⌠well.
Many people could lecture her on relying on the help of others, but he had been in that place. The spot where youâre confused and you feel shaky, and you just want to find your footing all on your own⌠and you donât want anyone to see the struggle. Heâd definitely been there.
âIâll open the front door.â
He doesnât see her nod, because he knows better than to watch her as she processes and recovers.
âIâm sending Kid Flash to deliver a message to the mother.â Robin announced over the comm. âItâs as good as alerting the League, since Superman is there.â
Anita heard that, and something about it gave her pause. She was suspended in a strange headspace, anxiety hovering there with her. She took a breath, and reminded herself that she couldnât remain idle. Things needed to be done. She walked through the kitchen doorway and into the living room.
âHow much time do we have?â she asked, and Superboy finally turned to look back at her.
âNot much.â
She nodded but was avoiding direct eye contact.
Her eyes landed on the chair near the door. Her hand shot out, snatching her backpack up onto her shoulder. As she was trotting up the stairs to her room, he heard her mutter, âCome at me.â
...it didnât sound confrontational, so much as motivational.
Summary: After responding to an incident, members of the team are saved by an unknown metahuman. But no protocols are in place to deal with the series of unfortunate events that assail Anitia Moore. What exactly should the team do when a someone with powers needs training but doesnât want to be a member of the team?
Authorâs Notes: This chapter goes to all the introverted girls that wanna go home and decompress.Â
PS: Sorry for the chapter title :| would you look at that, my soc major is showing.Â
Please do enjooooy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Â
 Sharon Moore trudged upstairs to her office, robotically calling hello to her employees as she passed them. She needed to finalize next weekâs schedule, double check the status of deliveries, and most importantly⌠not think about how all her contingency plans werenât going to be much good against someone like Batman.
 She practically collapsed in her office chair, glaring blandly at the computer as she turned it on. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light, or the lack thereof. She looked at the curtains, reminding herself that vitamin D was important.
 She took a deep breath, rising and plodding over to the window. She drew back the curtains and froze.
 âŚ.she did not have the tools for this.
 âHello, Maâam.â Superman said, floating not far from the window.
 She closed the curtains and held them there.
 âŚ.of the times that Sharon imagined a scenario in which a man would be conversing with her from a second story window, encounters with superhumans had never been on the billing. Of course, all those daydreams had been when she was much younger and had fanciful notions of romance.
 âI donât mean to alarm you, Maâam, but I can still see you.â He said from the other side of the notably flimsy barrier.
 No use in hiding.
 She tossed open the curtains and opened the window. âExactly what are you doing here?â she demanded, through the screen.
 âI wanted to thank youâŚ. Youâve raised a fine young lady.â His sincerity was palpable, and Sharon almost wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. She wanted to be angry at him⌠butâŚ
 He was SupermanâŚ. Damn pseudo-fascist iconography and the heartstrings it tugged at.
 She hung her head. âWould you⌠like to come inside?â
 It was a surprisingly easy process, letting Superman into the upper floor of the Bakery unseen. They did, after all, have a fire escape up there. It was still peculiar to see him sitting on the dark teal sofa in her officeâŚ
 âWould you like some coffee?â she asked, not at all certain what exactly she should be doing.
 âNo, thank you.â Again, Sharon was really conflicted. He was being⌠so polite. âYou seem at a loss.â Oh. Great. He noticed. Of course.
 She let out a little laugh. âIâŚâ she eased into her office chair. âI donât know why youâre here.â she said at last.
 âI told you, I wanted to thank you. Your daughter saved my boyâŚâ he smiled, looking a little chagrin. âAlso⌠Batman can be a little ...intimidating. If perhaps, you were in need of anything, I could see why you might hesitate to contact him.â
 âWeâre fine.â Sharon said, wincing at how defensive she sounded.
 Superman leaned forward slightly. âThereâs no shame in admitting it.â
 âAdmitting what?â
 âThat you have a child with unique needs.â
 âAll children have unique needs.â She argued.
 âYour child is not like most children.â Superman reminded, as if she needed to remember it. âIâm not trying to trap you or make you feel guilty.â he assured. âAnitaâs circumstances have been brought before the league.â his words made her tense up. She could barely handle Batman, and here was Superman talking about the league. âWeâre all very impressed with your home.â
 Sharon blinked at him, feeling dazed and disconnected.
 âYour daughterâŚ. her reality is far from normal. But thatâs never stopped you from trying to give her that. Youâve given her a safe environment where who she is doesnât suffer from what she is.â He smiled sympathetically. âIt cannot have been easy.â
 Breathy little laughs huffed out of her, and she felt her defenses crumble entirely. âI have never had the tools for any of this.â this admission is not an easy one, but itâs always accompanied with a resilient truth. âThatâs no excuse. Not when she needs me.â
 âSharon.â his voice was so clear and certain. âYou do not have to do this alone.â
 Sharon steeled herself, because she could not, would not cry...in front of Superman.
 She took a deep breath. âWhatâŚâ she clenched her teeth. âI suppose I know why the league would be interested in her. What I donât understand is what youâre so worried about.â Sharon squinted at him, studying his expression. âShe hasnât done anything wrong. Sheâs done the best she could with what sheâs had. What do you foresee happening that has you so eager to offer help?â
 âI honestly donât understand why we wouldnât offer help.â Superman countered. âItâs fairly obvious that Anitaâs abilities arenât something that she understands entirely. If we can help her understand that, we can help her find a safe place in her own society instead of trying to hide from it the way that she does now.â
 Sharon frowned, her eyes downcast. She⌠she had taught Anita to be cautious, yes⌠what if that caution just led to her daughter into being afraid of the world? She thought of Anitaâs habits and tendencies. Had she taught Anita that she couldnât live her life?
 Her eyes rounded as cold dread seeped into her gut. All of Anitaâs tendencies were bent towards restraint, stiflingly so⌠Had she taught her daughter to be afraid of herself?
 âWe⌠we donât have a lot of options⌠do we?â she realizes, woodenly staring at her own hands.
 âYour choices arenât as limited as you think.â Superman assured. âEither way, youâll have support.â
 Sharon considers this quietly before clearing her throat and determining, âWell⌠I have a feeling, Iâll be having a more in-depth conversation with Anita soon.â she sighed, sitting back against the chair back. âSheâll want to hide away in whatâs familiar, butâŚâ Sharon shook her head, propping an elbow on the desk and placing her hand against her temple for support. â..I just donât know if that will continue to work for her.â Superman nodded. âI just⌠I donât knowâŚâ she wavered, not certain how to voice her thoughts. âI donât know what options she has.â she said at last.
 Superman smiles. âPerhaps⌠I will have that cup of coffee.â he says. âAnd we can talk about possibilities.â
 Sharon laughs a little when she realizes that even she hasnât had a cup of coffee yet. The morning had been so robotic, sheâd simply forgotten. Coffee sounded like salvation right about now.
 Of all mornings, this was the one in which Sharon Moore had left her phone âDo not Disturbâ feature onâŚ. no alerts came when Anita sent her texts.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anita is fast and very coordinated. After darting into the alleyway, she finds and alcove and presses herself against the corner, flattening herself against the stonework of the building. At the moment, sheâs out of line of sight from the street.
 She almost laughs at herself, because all she can think is the âIt canât see me if I donât moveâ line.
 She holds her breath when she hears heavy footfalls...boots. The sound draws closer, slowly edging near her little corner, until it stops.
 âHey.â the statement, question, greeting, whatever? Itâs Superboy, because of course it is. Heâs just⌠leaning back against the opposite side of the corner that sheâs pressed against.
Fuck.
 âHey.â she says back.
 âYou alright?â he asks.
 She nods, swallowing thickly before retorting, âIâm hiding in an alleyway from Superboy, so⌠you know. I have been happier.â He lets out a little snort of a laugh, which somehow eases her. âYou?â
 âNot that great either, actually.â
 She blinks, focusing on him and letting the noise around them fade.. his breathing is labored. She swings away from the wall, peeking around the corner at him. He looks⌠worn out? Fatigued or something, maybe.
 Her eyes widen and she vaults herself across the alleyway, nearly colliding with the business corner of a dumpster. âShit.â she hisses. âMy eyes are still green.â
 He blinks at her, tracking her movements before squinting at her eyes. âAre they not supposed to be?â
 She shook her head. âI have light brown eyes.â she muttered, still stepping backwards to put distance between them. âUnlessâŚâ
 His eyes rounded, his eyebrows hiking up in realization. âUnless you absorb something like kryptonite?â
 âShit.â she seethes at no one in particular. Really just the situation. âShit, shit, shit!â
 âWait.â he says, making to follow her.
 âAre you mental?â She growls at him. âIâm literally radioactive right now.â
 âYeah, butâŚâ he shrugs. âItâs not as bad as it was.â he admits. Itâs true⌠he can stand and walk and talk and breathe. So itâs not bad. He still nauseous and heâs beginning to get a pounding headache⌠but he can cope with it. âWhy is that?â
 She opens her mouth and then freezes, her teeth clicking together when she snaps her jaw shut. She crosses her arms tightly, and mutters. âGo away.â before turning and jogging in the opposite direction.
 âYeah, fat chance.â he grumbles, jogging after her. His step falters after the first few, but he persists, unwilling to lose sight of her now.
 She hears him and turns, hopping backward a bit. âWhat are you even doing ?â
 âIâm staying with you.â
 âYou donât make any sense!â she squeaked. âIâm a pox, and youâre going to chase after me??â
 âWe heard about Luthor.â He says, and she stops. She stares at him, completely inert.
 âYou heard about Luthor.â she repeats, her tone dull.
 âHeâs dangerous.â
 âI didnât need superpowers to know that.â she says in that same dull tone. âBut why were youâŚâ her eyes narrowed. âAre you watching me?â
 His head lulled to the side a bit, his eyes sharpening as his lips thinned. It was a great, âreally? thatâs what worries you?â expression.
 âOf course weâre watching you.â he says in such a dismissive fashion that she feels a little foolish. Or she would if she wasnât utterly terrified. âWhat did he say to you?â
 Anita stared at him as she tried to process the question. She felt so numb, it was hard to understand works and make them.
 âI..â she swallowed. âSome⌠bullshit about scholarships andâŚâ her eyes drifted, though she certainly didnât see anything.
 âWhat?â Superboy asked, taking another step closer.
 Anita put her hand out and backed up till she felt the brings of the wall behind her. Superboy, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, and not wanting to be uncomfortable, backed up till he was standing against the opposite side of the alley. Distance did lessen the severity of the symptoms.
 âI think⌠I think he threatened me.â she said, processing the situation and the words heâd said. In retrospect, there was a thinly veiled threat in there. âHe talked about my mother and brothers, and ...and said Iâd want to keep them safe.â
 She suddenly felt like she couldn't get enough air, and the weight that had bothered her in her ankles felt too heavy.
 âOh GodâŚâ she reached for her bracelet. Filtering the beads through her fingers, rolling them and then letting them fall before moving to the next set in line.
 âBreathe.â Superboy coached, and it was surprisingly comforting to have him here. âYouâre safe.â
 âBut they--â
 âThey are safe too.â he interjects, in hopes that it quickly quells her panic. âWeâre keeping tabs on your family.â He said this without really knowing if it was true. It was more a sense that Robin would probably have something like that in place. Her distraction allowed him to draw closer, her usual misgivings about their proximity a dull memory.
 âHow..â Anita croaked before shaking her head. So many questions and she had no idea how to find answers...much less what she should do once she got those answers.
 âAnita.â He says her name, and she freezes. âThatâs your name, right?â she nodded woodenly. He holds out a hand, as if for a handshake. âIâm Connor.â she winces back from him.
 âYou shouldnâtâŚâ
 âItâll be ok. Trust me.â
 She eyes him and then his hand before timidly reaching forward to take it. She watches him, critically eyeing their point of contact before taking his reaction. Conner doesnât feel that much worse, really. Itâs just like standing next to her; a headache, upset stomach, thereâs a faint sensation of cotton stuffed in his earsâŚ.sound seemed duller... but, itâs all manageable.
 âNice to finally meet you.â he said, and she laughed nervously. He lets go, and though she doesnât feel threatened, Anita still presses herself against the brick behind her. Itâs less about him and more about the need to feel grounded. She had her breathing back under control, at least. âYou were going home, right?â
 She swallows hard. âYeah⌠It was that or the bakery, and...I really donât want to be underfoot right now.â
 He nods. âThen hereâs what weâll do. Iâm going to accompany you home, just to be safe. When you get there, you can call your mom, assuming someone from the team isnât already doing that. Iâll keep watch outside your house.â
 âWhat??â she asked, trying to draw back, but he keeps his hold on her.
 âJust to be safe. Besides, if Iâm outside and youâre inside, I probably wonât feel the effects of the kryptonite.â
 She takes a deep breath. âThereâs really no point in trying to deny it, is there?â He doesnât comment, aside from a wry smile. âYou really donât have to stay, though. Iâm sure itâs fine.â
 âIâll touch base with the team before I move on.â he concludes. She nods, and starts walking. He falls into step beside her.
 âAre you...wearing your shirt inside-out?â
 He shrugs. âBelieve it or not, itâs usually enough for most people to not notice me at all.â
 â...huh.â is her only response.
 They walked in silence for a few blocks before Superboy said. âSo...this thing you do with rocksâŚâ
 She huffed out a heavy breath, but otherwise there was no response.
 âuh...Howâs that work?â
 She shrugged. âI donât know how it happens, just that it does happen.â her tone is dull but unresisting. Her voice is hushed, as if sheâs afraid to be overheard. Superboy eyes her, wondering how forthcoming sheâll be if he keeps asking.
 âYou just...what? Suck up things from them?â
 âIâŚâ she sighs heavily, shaking her head. âI really donât want to talk about it.â
 âYouâll have to eventually, you know.â
 âThat doesnât mean I have to right this second.â She grumbled. âOr that I have to tell you anything.â
 âYou always this chipper?â Superboy asked.
 She smirked, and while there was plenty of derision in her posture...the expression wasnât entirely a sarcastic. âCanât be helped. Iâm having such a good day.â she stops at a crosswalk, hunching her shoulders in a downward arc, her arms crossed over her belly as she damn near folded her torso in half.
 âUh⌠you ok?â he said, wincing at the ineptitude of those words. Of course she wasnât, and he feels like an ass for mentioning her struggle at all⌠but...how else can he figure out whatâs going on, unless he asks?
 Her face settled in a pout before she grumbled. âLead is a bitch.â
 He half snorted. âTell me about it....but...I mean.. wait, what?â
 She groaned. âOn the kryptonite necklace. There was lead.â she reminded. âWhy lead, anyway? Itâs not a decorative metal. Itâs even poisonous to normal people.â she lurched forward when the walk sign lit up. âIt kills my stomach.â
 âYou feel the lead ...in your stomach?â he asked.
 She nodded. âItâs not even that itâs horribly painful...itâs just⌠jarring. It was worse yesterday, when the contact was fresh. Now, the crests are spaced pretty far apart.â she grumbles, then stops and turns to glare at him.
 He stares back, fighting the discomfort of those eyes. âWhat?â
 She huffed out a sigh. âYouâre justâŚâ her teeth clenched together. â...youâre surprisingly easy to talk to.â she muttered before she started walking again.
 âI...what?â his confusion at her statement was palpable.
 âI donât talk about it. I never talk about it. Not with anyone except my mom.â she says, needlessly adjusting the right strap of her backpack. âI didnât want to talk about it, and here I am talking about it.â
 âWellâŚâ he wondered if he could reason her into opening up more. âI am one of the few people aware of the situation. It...could do you good.â
 âIt doesnât.â she bit out, looking away.
 âAnd maybeâŚ.maybe I feel a little guilty about it. Iâm the biggest part of why youâreâŚâ he jutted his chin in her direction.âSuffering?â he shrugged. âMay as well tell me all about it.â
 She straightened her spine, rolling her shoulders back as she walked with her eyes forward. âDonât be an idiot. Spreading the suffering around is no way to manage it. Besides, Iâm responsible for my actions. No one else.â She shook her head. âApart from that, talking about it is distracting.â
 âWhat do you mean?â
 She took a deep breath. âIâve keep asking myself one thing on loop⌠Why was I shaking Lex Luthorâs hand this morning?â
 He blinked, his eyes darting around them. Just the mention of Luthor made him feel twitchy. Like he was being watched down the barrel of a sniperâs scope.
 âWalkingâs a good time to think.â Anita continued, her eyes sliding towards him.
 âWhat?â he asked.
 âThe reason you feel guilty⌠itâs because Iâm in pain after I helped you?â
 He blinked at her. âWhat are you getting at?â
 âThere are three factors that connected to what happened yesterday. The asshole on the bridge with his death necklace, you and your group, and me in an imperfect disguise. I assume whatâs left of the necklace is secure in your custody.â
 âIt is.â he snapped, feeling strangely defensive.
 âHm.â she grunted, looking forward again.
 âWhat are you fishing for?â
 âWe can both assume that Luthor wasnât angling to meet me for a scholarship, and itâs very suspicious that heâd approach me the day after that whole bridge thing.â she ground her molars, not sure how to continue. âEven if he doesnât know about me, he knows something, and he wants something .â
 The question she wanted to be answered was⌠delicate. Or it could be. She assumed Superboy was here to help, but how far did this goodwill extend, exactly? Could he be provoked into changing his opinion entirely?
 âI guess whatâs bothering me is⌠How Lex Luthor ties into all this? Assuming that he does⌠If itâs because of what happened yesterday, how is he connected to that? Could it be a coincidence?... That seems..â she shook her head again. âunlikely.â
 âLuthor owns most of Metropolis.â
 âFantastic.â Anita spat. Again another wave of anxiety washed over her, her thoughts immediately centering on her mother and brothers.
 âItâs possible that he got something from traffic cameras, the way that Robin didâŚ.â
 Anita took a deep breath, gaining little comfort from the action. She still felt breathless, but she refused to submit to that panic. Now was not the time.
 âBatman did show up on my porch last night.â
 âThat was a covert op, but⌠Luthor is resourceful.â he shrugged, feeling guilt creep up into his shoulder blades. âGuess he couldâve seen that.â
 âDo you think Luthorâs connected to the Mask-hole?â
 Superboy breathed out a tiny laugh. âMaybe. But⌠I donât see how heâd know about you. We donât even know much about you.â
 He watches from the corner of his eye as she chafes her own biceps as though sheâs cold. âYeah well.. me neither.â
 His eyes darted forward, away from her. To watch her right now...It felt⌠invasive. Like he was staring at her while she was having this vulnerable moment.
 âNow what?â she said.
 âWhat do you mean?â
 âI mean.. I mean, howâŚâ she shook her head. âI⌠I donât know what to do.â she said, her tone distant, confused as she watched her steps as she was taking them.  âPVA26077.â she muttered.
 âWhat?â
 âItâs...an inside joke. Momâs not overly worried about profanity now, but there was a time when it was on the list of things thatâd get you in trouble.â she explained, sounding stronger than she had just a moment ago. It was nice to discuss something she had a decent grasp of. âTravis and I came up with a bunch of things to use instead of the standard cuss words.. that oneâs one of the most colorful slurs.â She smirked. âMom never got mad at those, because we used things like âWaterlooâ and âWitch Trialsâ... another way get Travis more interested in history.â she massaged her temples.
 âWe donât have contingencies for this.â she murmured. âWorst comes to worst, text plan zero to everyone, everyone comes home, we pack up and hit the road. No questions asked, let things run their course. Hire movers, sell the business, open shop in a new areaâŚâ she began to pant. âBut⌠but Luthorâs reach is long. And even if he wasnât a factor, the Justice League is involved now.â
 âHey, you donât have to run from us, alright?â Superboy reminded. âWe actually want to help.â
 âTo what end?â Anita cut in. âI donât want to be a superhero. I just want to live my life in relative peace.â
 âWho says you canât?â Superboy challenged, and she finally met his eyes. âWe just want to make sure youâre safe.â
 SHe surveyed him for some time before she started walking again. âSomething to consider.â she muttered, and it was really starting to irritate him.
 He knew there were a million thoughts cycling through her head, but she just wouldnât say anything. She refused to say anything at all. Was it just how she processed things? Or was this a bigger issue.
 The two of them spoke very little during the time it took to reach the Moore house.
 âWeâll be around⌠you knowâŚâ Superboy shrugged.
 âIf I should need you.â she said with a tiny smirk, and he had the distinct impression this was another inside joke.
 He nodded. âIâll...check back with the team and⌠weâll see you around.â
 She nodded, swallowing thickly before croaking. âThank you.â She didnât wait for a response before jogging inside.
 She didnât see Superboy check his comm before jogging across the street. She didnât see him leap away, because she didnât look.
 Once inside she took a deep breath. The air in the house normally had a soothing quality to it. But something was off. Her head slowly rotated to the side, one ear cocked higher than the other.
 â...there are three heartbeats in this house.â she announced to the seemingly empty living room.
 The sound of footsteps from the kitchen made her eyes dart to that doorway. Her eyes widened as a well-dressed Lex Luthor stood there smiling at her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now, I really have to get back to my African American history Pre-1868....even though it's lible to kill me :|Â
Relationships: Possibly a lot of OCsâŚand OCs with main characters.
Summary: Itâs a new year at Hogwarts, and the Potions professor is having a hellish time. Not with the students, mind you. Itâs the ridiculous new DADA professor thatâs a badgering experience.
Notes:Â So, it appears that eons ago, when I wrote this... I just forgot to post the last two chapters that I wrote. And then there were finals. And here we are. So... this is officially caught up.
...now I just have to write more :| It's so easy. Why didn't I think of that...
Cygnus had always enjoyed the great hall. The buzz, the chatter, the food, the energy⌠everything. The first day of Hogwarts was over with⌠and she wasnât even paying attention to the food before her.
 Her first day as Potions Professor had gone quite smoothly. Now, her head was filled with lesson plans, studentsâ names, and different ways to engage her classes. There werenât very many problems, but she was trying to foresee how circumstances could change, how students might give her trouble (and which), and what she may have to do in order to maintain her authority in her own classroom.
 âYou realize that youâve taken about five minutes just cutting one piece of meat?â
 Albus Bloody Potter.
 Oh yes⌠there was that too. She hadnât expected to be sitting anywhere special on the Professorsâ table. But she was on the very end of the table, and Potter was seated right next to her. He made it a habit to be as insufferable as possible.
 âYes. Iâm thinking.â She said, before placing the morsel sheâd worked so hard to cut into her mouth.
 âYour first day go well?â He asked conversationally.
 âQuite. Almost a little too well, actually. Yourself?â she responded amiably.
 âVery enjoyable, to tell the truth.â He said with a nod. âI half expected to flounder through it or perhaps find it dull and dread doing it, but⌠The students are engaging and eager to learn.â He paused and looked to her. âDo you find the first years a little googly-eyed?â
 She snorted softly. âGoogly-eyed?â she repeated, though without over-embellishing the term. She simply wanted clarification.
 âYes. They seem so⌠well, fascinated to be here.â he paused, as if to survey the ends of the tables where the first years sat. âWhich is normal, but they also seem a bit slow.â he amended.
 âIt is their first year.â Cygnus defended soothingly.
 âWe werenât like that in our first year.â
 âDonât speak for me.â
 He chuckled, his bright smile and that damn sparkle in his eyesâŚit was ridiculously disarming and infuriating at the same time. Why was this infuriating man so easy to talk to?
 âVery well then, I wasnât like that. I had to be held back in most everything. I never sat back and stared like a moon-struck loon, I wanted to sink my teeth into everything.â He was looking at her again. âWhat about you? Everyone remembers first year; what was yours like?â
 Her expression sobered considerably. The beginning of her first year had been horrid. She felt so shamed at being sorted into Hufflepuff that she wouldnât look at her brothers. She even went so far as to actively avoid them.
 She had gotten good at casting privacy and silencing charms out of necessity, because she didnât want to wake up her roommates with her crying. Sheâd lost 5 pounds.. which didnât seem like much, but she had been 11 at the time, and the pattern was to gain not lose weight.
 Finally, the headmistress had flooed her parents⌠She had been terrified when she was summoned to the Headmistressâs office, wondering what horrible atrocity she couldâve committed. And then she saw her motherâs face, and she felt doubly worse. Her mother had hugged her, remarked that sheâd lost weight and that theyâd been worried over not hearing from her.
 Then her father had requested that both the Headmistress and Mother leave the two of them alone to talk. She wished she had never been born. She wished the floor would swallow her up. She counted the long seconds while she waited for her fatherâs reproach⌠and it never came. When the door closed, he wrapped her up in his arms and scolded her over forgetting his words. He reminded her that he didnât care what house she was in, because she was his daughter first and he loved her.
 âDid I step on a proverbial land mind?â Cygnus blinked to find Potter almost fully facing her now, his expression worried. Honestly. What was he so concerned about?
 âIâŚâ she swallowed hard, still not sure what to tell him. âFirst year was not my easiest.â She said at last, shifting her focus onto her meal.
 She decided that if sheâd be better off cutting her meat up entirely and then eating the small pieces as opposed to cutting them up to eat them one at a time. Especially at the rate she was going.
 âYou had a hard time of it then? Being in Hufflepuff?â He asked and she sighed at the surprise in his tone. Was it really so hard to believe that life wasnât all Honeydukes and Butterbeers for a Hufflepuff? âI mean⌠Iâm not trying to say it as if Iâm making fun, like, âoooh was it hard for you in Hufflepuff ?â or anything like that, Iâm actually... Curious.â He looked down at his plate awkwardly. âOK, you talk know, please.â He said giving his meal more attention.
 She almost wanted to laugh at his self-consciousness. Almost. She did remind herself that he was a Slytherin⌠Â
 âIt was⌠trying.â Cygnus said at last. That was a word to use, and it wasnât so volatile that it would betray her confidence. âWe all had no idea what to expect for me, but no one expected Hufflepuff⌠including the other Hufflepuffs. They treated me like a pariah⌠Lilly, Cleo, and Lucy did their best to cheer me up when they could, and I did my best to put on a brave face and act likeâŚâ she stopped herself short, taking a deep breath to settle the swarm of wasps inside her ribcage.
 âAct like?â He was looking askance at her again.
 She sighed out that deep breath. âAct like I hadnât lost my footing.â She admitted at last. In truth it had felt more like her world was slowly dissolving, but she couldnât just say that. âMy brothers were in Slytherin, my best friends were in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, and I was the oddball Hufflepuff.â She shrugged as if to make little of it.
 âButâŚthings did even out?â
 âEventually, yes. Though loyal, most Hufflepuffs canât hold an unfounded grudge. Eventually, they all began to feel sorry for me and stopped acting like I had the dark mark. Things truly turned during Christmas break, when I realized I hadnât disappointed my family.â Cygnus continued to focus on her food in order to avoid glaring at Potter.
 She hadnât meant to tell him so much. Really. It wasnât even his fault. What was it about him that was so disarming and charming?
 âYou know, it was sort of the same for meâŚâ He admitted. âI did a lot better at not showing it, but I thought about it constantly⌠the oddball Slytherin in a Gryffindor home.â He shrugged, smirking at his own expense.
 âI imagine Sirius Black must have felt the same at times.â
 âOnly when he was home.â
 âMost likely.â
 âBut, it was the same for me with Christmas Break⌠I went home and life was as it always had been. My parents were still the same, James was still insufferable, Lilly was still eager to go to Hogwarts herself.â
 âThatâs right, I keep forgetting your two years older than I am.â Cygnus murmured absently.
 He nodded. âMaybe youâre right after allâŚ. Some of them may have a different way of managing, but first years are all just coping with everything.â She took a moment to stare at Potterâs profile. He had a strange pensive stare as he gazed out over the young children. She wondered what he was thinking⌠or she wouldâve, if she hadnât caught herself thinking about it and then cut that thought process short.
 Some time passed as they ate in silence. But of course, Potter couldnât just let things be. Near the end of the meal he spoke quietly to her again.
 âListenâŚâ He said slowly, as though he were measuring the weight of his words. âI have this âŚidea âŚfor a project with my seventh years that Iâd appreciate your help on.â He said carefully.
 âYou have a captive audience until I finish this pudding, Potter.â Cygnus replied in lieu of a snappish âmake it quickâ retort.
 âI was wanting to teach them a bit more about Polyjuice.â
 Cygnus blinked. âPolyjuice?â
 âYes.â He said nodding vigorously.
 âYou know that it takes a month to brewâŚâ she responded.
 âOf course. Thatâs why Iâm conferring with you now .â
 She nodded pensively, her eyebrows lifting slightly. âIt would be an interesting way to incorporate it into my own lesson plan.â She reasoned carefully. âI can have it ready for you by next month.â
 âThatâs superb, but thereâs more.â
 âOf course.â
 âYou see, it doesnât help much to have Polyjuice unless I have someone willing to help me by being a double.â
 Cygnus blinked. âWho are you thinking of asking?â she asked.
 âYou.â
 Cygnusâs fork clattered into her plate in a chaotic reflection of her own mental response.
 âBut⌠I⌠what?â
 âJust hear me out, alright?â she nodded for him to continue. âYou polyjuice yourself as me and walk into my class and start doing whatever you want.â
 âOh⌠really?â
 âYes.â He sounded so determined. As though he were trying to maintain his hold on his own train of thought. âThen I walk into the classroomâŚ.â He paused, as if for dramatic effect. âSee?â
 âSee what?â
 He sighed. âThe fact that the students will realize the possibility that someone could be deceiving them by way of potions.â Potter stopped, and peered at her closely. âAre you alright? Youâve gone paleâŚâ
 âUm. Iâm fine.â Cygnus said with a wooden nod. She wondered briefly how he could tell when she âwent paleâ since she was already so fair skinned. She did not feel fine, but she was good at faking it. Relatively. âWhat twists and turns your mind makes.â
 âThere are gives-and-takes on all potions, and Iâm hoping that some of them will be able to tell that something is up and be able to discern which of us is which.â
 âI do see âŚthe advantages of the lesson, but where does it go from there? Do we squabble or duel to make it more interesting, or just go back and forth asking the students who they think is the real Professor Potter?â
 Potter seemed to be deep in thought as he considered her words. âI donât like the idea of us dueling⌠it gives you a chance to actually inflict harm.â
 Cygnus smirked. âScared, Potter?â
 âTerrified.â He replied with a dramatic wince. Cygnus chuckled softly, shaking her head at his antics. âI think thatâs the first time Iâve gotten you to smile.â He had the gall to say, which brought her back down to reality.
 âNo fair changing the subject.â
 âThat appears to be what you are doing, my dear.â
 âI am not your dear, Potter.â Cygnus growled.
 He smiled rakishly. âThe night is youngâŚâ his face changed entirely when she glared at him balefully. âNow that⌠that look should be on the list of Unforgivables.â He joked uneasily. âReally, Cygnus, I didnât meanââ
 âNever mind.â
 Potter wilted visibly at her snappish tone.
 Oh, this just had to be acting. Potter may have been an oddball Slytherin, but he was a Slytherin. And if there was one thing Slytherins never did, it was trust complete strangers with their moods.
 âBeing as the potion will not be ready until a month hence, I imagine we can hammer out the details of our performances in the following month.â Cygnus said, righting their conversation properly.
 âAnd youâll go along with the routine?â Potter asked carefully.
 âYes. Yes. Iâll be you⌠a decidedly more literate, though poncey version of youââ
 âHeyâŚâ
 âBut, Iâll go along with it.â
 Potter nodded. âGood.. I think.â his tone was confident, but his face was skewed in confusion.
 âNow if youâll excuse me,â She said, rising as she spoke. âI mean to retire for the evening.â
 âThanks⌠for everything.â Potter said.
 But Cygnus pretended not to hear him. She didnât look back⌠because she didnât care, or because she just couldnât make herself. Her stomach was tight, almost queasy, and her head ached. She felt flushed and her heart was hammering in her chest. All those things were not the symptoms of someone who didnât care. She was just too tired to think about it.
Relationships: Possibly a lot of OCsâŚand OCs with main characters.
Summary: Itâs a new year at Hogwarts, and the Potions professor is having a hellish time. Not with the students, mind you. Itâs the ridiculous new DADA professor thatâs a badgering experience.
Notes:Â So that paper took a lot longer than I anticipated :|
It was three in the afternoon before Cygnus bothered to look up from her work. It wasn't that her office and storage rooms needed the extra attention. She simply had her own methods of organization, and she just had to sort through everything.
 The only reason she bothered stopping was due to the dizziness. The porridge and sausage links sheâd had for breakfast were gone, and the orange sheâd snacked on for brunch was not lasting.
 She carefully shut and locked the doors to her office before she slipped the keys back into the pocket of her robes and exited her classroom. Once the door shut softly behind her, she turned down the tunnel that would lead to her quarters.
 Time for lunch had long since passed, so she would have to fix herself something... Her vision blurred slightly and she massaged her brow. Perhaps it would be better to summon Dinky to her quarters and request lunch.
 Her arms rose high above her head, stretching to work the kinks out of her back. Another wave of dizziness hit and she faltered sideways. She let out a tiny squeak when a pair of strong arms caught her.
 âWhat have I caught here?â The deep voice resonated through her spine, sending goosebumps all over. Lips were pressed very close to the nape of her neck, making the hair at the base of her scalp rise and tingle. Something about that voice made the hair on her arms stand on end.
 She wanted nothing more than to thrash about until she was released, but she maintained her composure⌠just barely. But just enough to bring that steely âMalfoyâ edge to her words.
 âSet me up right...and release me.â She commanded.
 A soft chuckle answered her before she felt herself tip back onto her own feet. She schooled the fear from her face before turning to face her 'rescuer'. Her eyes widened as they met a set of mischievous green eyes.
 âFancy meeting you here, Malfoy.â he murmured, still too close for her liking.
 Cygnus took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at him.
 âPotter.â She practically growled.
 The last she'd heard of Albus Potter, he had left his position as a beater in professional Quidditch and was now more known for his 'romantic exploits'. Her father had remarked on many occasions on the astounding obsession the Prophet had with anything and everything âPotterâ, whether it was news-worthy or not.
 He chuckled at her in the most maddening fashion. Something about his tone, it was deep and almost scratchy, and it seemed to make her skin vibrate unnaturally.
 âIf I didn't know any better, I'd say Professor Snape had come back to possess you, what with the way you say 'Potter' and all.â She could see how that might be a worry for him, as he looked so like his fatherâŚthough he did not wear spectacles, of course.
 âThe ghost of one of my predecessor is hardly a worry.â Cygnus admitted. âNow if you'll excuse me... I was just on my way to lunch.â
 âA little late for lunch, isn't it?â He asked, looking slightly puzzled.
 âIndeed.â She muttered, continuing along her way.
 âWhy the late lunch?â
 âI wanted to get my office and storeroom in order... it took longer than I thought.â
 âAhh, so you're the new Potions Professor.â He said, falling into step beside her. Hadnât she already revealed that by naming Snape as a predecessor? Honestly.
 âI take it you will be the Defense Instructor.â
 He eyed her curiously. âMcGonagall told you?â He seemed mildly surprised.
 âOnly that there would be a new Defense professor.â She sighed heavily. âBesides myself, you are the only new person here.â She let her eyes drift to him momentarily. âI'm surprised you managed to keep it a secret for so long.â
 âI can keep secrets.â
 âPerhaps, but your exploits are often in the Prophet ... though not as well publicized since you quit Puddlemere.â
 âYou shouldnât believe everything you read.â She heard the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. âYou keep up with Quidditch?â
 âCorvus does.â She bit out.
 It was a half-truth⌠Corvus did keep up with Quidditch, like most wizards.
 Cygnus paid attention to better follow Lillyâs career. Lilly was the most fantastic seeker that had played the game since her father hung up his broom, if Cygnus had anything to say about it, and she did⌠but Cygnus and Lillyâs friendship was somewhat limited these days⌠Lilly wasnât the best at writing letters, as her life was such a whirlwind. So, Cygnus kept up with her career and sent letters weekly.
 âI never would've pegged you as a Puddlemere fan.â Potter remarked, snapping her back to the present along with her churning belly.
 âI prefer the Ballycastle Bats, actually.â
 âWhat! The batsâŚâ He stared in shock before seeing an impish smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. He let out a soft chuckle. âScore one for the Potions Professor.â
 âI manage.â
 âIndeed, it seems you know enough to be dangerous.â
 She eyed him. âAre you following me?â
 âI prefer the term âescortingâ.â He said with a smile. âIf I were to leave you alone, I would be afraid you would faint before you could get to your room.â
 Cygnus scoffed. âI shall make a mental note to eat proper meals, lest I gain the dubious honor of being âescortedâ by Albus Potter.â  Something around his eyes tightened, making his boyish smirk skew slightly. Cygnus stopped momentarily, releasing a breath. âThat sounded much more snide than I had intendedâŚâ she observed with only a touch of contrition.
 Potter actually chuckled. âPlease tell me you arenât concerned that you hurt my feelings.â
 âI only fear misinterpretation.â Cygnus quipped. âWhat was said was intended in jest, not scorn.â
 âI have heard you and Lilly together, you know.â Albus said dryly. âIâm one of the few people who knows that you can speak like an actual person.â Cygnus stared at him resolutely for a beat.
 âAnd now yours is the tone dripping in scorn.â She remarked.
 âIâm only saying, you sound like a dictionary.â He said, his arms fanning out slightly as if in surrender.
 âSometimes it is necessary to be better understood.â She admitted before continuing on her way.
 âAs you say then.â Albus quipped back, jogging for a pace before catching up with her.
 âYou are following me.â Cygnus muttered grudgingly.
 âIâm only checking to see if youâll actually invite me in.â He replied with a smirk. It make her upper lip curl in a sneer. What cheek. What outright audacity.
 âMystery solved.â She reported, stopping and leaning back against her door. âGood afternoon, Potter.â She said simply, as she swiftly opened the door, stepped into her room and closed the door before Potter could do more than blink in surprise. With a sigh, she summoned her house elf. âDinky?â
 âThatâs not very polite, Malfoy.â She heard him, though his voice was muddled through the door. Her only response was a bland glare at the offending portal. Of course, that was irrational. It wasnât the doorâs fault that Albus Potter was insufferable.
 âIs Misses needing Dinky?â Dinky asked brightly. Cygnus hadnât even heard the little dear pop into the room. She was chubby-cheeked, almost cherubic truthfully. And her wardrobeâŚ
 The little house elf was wearing a pale purple dress that Cygnus had given her long ago. Grandfather had been entirely aghast when he learned that Cygnus had begun playing dress-up with her house elf, thereby freeing her. Of course, since Cygnus tended to treat Dinky lovingly, the house elf had no intentions of leaving her servitude. In fact, Dinky had inherited all of the clothes Cygnus had grown out of. Todayâs outfit was pale purple dress with a drop waist marked by a border of daisies, set off with a matching purple headband adorned with a single audaciously large daisy.
 âYes, Dinky.â Cygnus said with a soft smile. âIâm very hungry, Darling, and I was wondering if you could bring me any left-overs from lunch?â
 Dinkyâs face twisted slightly in reproach. âMisess is forgetting to eat again?â
 âIâm afraid I did get carried away.â She replied with a nod. âIt wonât happen again.â
 Dinky nodded before disappearing.
 Before Cygnus could relax at being alone, a knock sounded from the door. She stared at it first in shock before carefully sliding over and opening it. Her face fell into that bland glare again.
 âMay I come in, Cygnus?â Potter asked with a smile.
 âNo.â Cygnus replied simply. It grated on her that he was using her first name. Like he knew her. Like he had any right.
 âWhy not?â He asked, looking genuinely curious.
 She crossed her arms, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe. âPotter, in case it has escaped your notice, Iâve failed to invite you in twice. This means that I donât want you to come in. Ergo, you are now imposing.â
 âI only want to know why.â He said with a small smile.
 âI owe you nothing, Potter. Though, I suppose between the two of us, I am more capable of being gracious.â she said, baring her teeth more than sheâd like. âBecause. Itâs my room.â Cygnus snapped. â Mine . And I am extraordinarily territorial. I have no intentions of sharing it, let alone with you.â
 âOuch.â He half grumbled, giving a bleak look to the doorjamb.
 âYou asked. Nay, you demanded.â Cygnus reminded, bouncing up from the doorway, the door firm in her grasp. âAnd at the moment, Iâd like to eat in peace. Close my eyes for a moment and be alone. I canât do that if youâre barging in.â
 âVery well, but I wonder if youâll enjoy the consequences.â He said, looking away with feigned disinterest.
 Cygnus let out a frustrated sigh. âThere are consequences to a woman wanting to eat alone?â
 âOh yes.â Potter had the cheek to smile at her. âSee you around, Cygnus.â He said before turning and leaving.
 Cygnus stared at his retreating back with a puzzled look on her face before shaking her head and closing the door. âInsufferable man.â She muttered to herself.
Relationships: Possibly a lot of OCsâŚand OCs with main characters.Â
Summary:Â Itâs a new year at Hogwarts, and the Potions professor is having a hellish time. Not with the students, mind you. Itâs the ridiculous new DADA professor thatâs a badgering experience.
Notes: Phew⌠Well, I wanted to add this chapter relatively quickly after posting the first. The first chapter is very short. So, I feel like this is very necessary follow-up.
Now if youâll excuse me. I have to write a paper about documents exchanged between native Americans and the American government :| Truly thrilling.
***********
11 year-old Cygnus bobbed her left knee as she peered through the window in their compartment, watching the other families mill about. She could not contain her excitement! And her twin brother Corvus was simply sitting there next to her with his eyes closed! Usually, she could rely on Corvus to understand her moods and be her sounding board (or the other way around), but he seemed overly bored with the entire process.
 "Really, Corvus. I don't know how you can sleep at a time like this." she muttered.
 "Who could possibly sleep when you're shaking the whole compartment?" Corvus asked, his eyes still closed.
 Twin siblings they may be, but you would never find two children so dissimilar in appearance or personality. Cygnus was the baby girl of the family, and like their old brother Scorpius, could have been a clone of her father. She thought she was even a bit pale in comparison to him as her hair was nearly white. Father had always smiled and told her she looked as divinely elegant as grandmother in her youth.
 Corvus on the other hand, though pale in complexion, had ebon black hair and rich brown eyes. Grandmother often said he acquired his features more from the her side of the family. Not that the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black had disapproving features; far from it! Like all Malfoys, the twins did have sharp features, but Corvus's chin was perhaps a little more broad and rounded. Today, they were both dressed in elegant but neutral black robes.
 "It's just too exciting!" Cygnus whispered. "And why aren't we moving yet?"
 "Sister-dear, really. This is what comes from your over-eagerness. You were the one who encouraged Father and Mother to depart early, you hurried us all onto the train as soon as it arrived. Now we're settled and ready and for what? To watch everyone else blather about." He sighed and shook his head. "You asked how I could sleep, but the true question is how can you stay awake?"
 "I hardly slept all night!" Cygnus beamed.
 âDamn your chipper attitude, woman.â Cygnus had no idea why he kept calling her âwomanââŚit was like he was deliberately trying to mimic Father, but only when he wasnât present.
 "The train hasn't even moved, and already you're damning your sister." Scorpius's voice came from the door as he smiled at his siblings.
 "Have you settled into your compartment, big brother?" Cygnus asked. She noted that Corvus had opened an eye to survey Scorpius, but almost immediately shut it and returned to his fake rest.
 "Of course. Sorry I can't sit with you two, butââ
 "Oh, bah. You wouldn't want to sit with us anyway." Corvus grumbled.
 "We understand, of course." Cygnus gushed making her brother gain a bit of color.
 "Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me, right? The train should be fully loaded soon, and then we'll be on the move."
 "We'll be fine, but thanks, Scoro." Cygnus said, whispering the nickname. Scorpius only nodded with a smile before closing the door and leaving.
 Cygnus sighed at her still inanimate twin before looking about the cabin to see if anything could be tended to in order to kill time. Father had said that the food on the train was abysmal, and thus sent them with their own lunch and snack packs. Corvus had situated them on the seat across from them so that they would be easy to reach. Their luggage was, of course, already well secured. There really was nothing to do but wait.
 If she was being entirely honest, she would admit that her nervous energy wasn't just from the excitement of going to Hogwarts.... she almost feared her place there, and finding out what it would be. It was easy to see the house her brothers would fall into. Scorpius had already been in Slythern for ages now, and Corvus would no doubt be joining him.... but after hearing their parents talk about it, she truly couldn't profess any enthusiasm for falling into that house. She had confessed that to her mother a few nights ago. She was afraid that thinking to refuse Slytherin would place her into the dreaded Gryffindor! Her mother had taken her hand and brought her to Father's office. Mother had explained their little talk to him.
 Father only smiled at her lovingly and said, "Swan-love, it isn't as though we haven't known you may not fit in to the house of Slytherin for a long time."
 "You have?" She asked drearily.
 "You're nothing like your brothers, and there's little doubt that you would be torn to shreds from your housemates vying for position." he announced. She hung her head a bit. "But you'll still be our baby girl, no matter what house you're sorted into. You most certainly have the brain power to land you in Ravenclaw quite easily." He had said with a smile. "And if it's Gryffindor..." He sighed and smiled. "Well, Sirius Black was sorted into that house, and he's one of us, isn't he?"
 "From the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, to boot." Mother had reminded.
 Cygnus stared between her parents in awe. "Wow..." She murmured. After that, she had been fairly encouraged... especially after she had gotten big hugs all around.
 Corvus sighed, pulling her out of the memory. "I hate these black robes." He grumbled.
 "Only because it blends in with your fabulous hair so well." Cygnus sniffed.
 "Whatever. Tonight we'll be in Slytherin green."
 "Well.. you will."
 Corvus blinked at her. "Huh... I never thought about it, but you probably won't be in Slytherin with us..."
 "It's probably for the best." Cygnus pointed out. "Father said I might not survive the in-house scheming."
 Corvus nodded thoughtfully. "True." Then he smiled at her. "You would look spectacular in Ravenclaw blue."
 Cygnus smiled back, glad for his understanding. A few seconds passed and Corvus was pretending to doze off again. Cygnus stared out the window. Ravenclaw blue? Yes, that would be a good compliment to her coloring. Not as good as Slytherin green, but her chances of earning her way into said color was improbable at best. Still, blue won hands down over the hideous Gryffindor red. She hoped she would never humiliate her family in such a way. She laughed inwardly, wondering what the founders would think if they knew their legacy was being weighed in the balance as a fashion statement.
 The sound of the door sliding open brought her attention away from the window. A girl her age with long red hair and warm brown eyes eyed the two occupants. When no greeting came from the intruder, Corvus opened an eye before narrowing it at her in a glare. It looked ridiculous.
 "Uh... sorry for interrupting, but... there are very few seats left open, and I was wondering if you had any spare room?" the girl asked, glaring back at Corvus.
 "Oh! Yes, of course!" Cygnus gushed, reaching over and taking their lunch and snack packs from the opposite seats. "Please sit with us! My brother keeps nodding off, and I'm much too excited to sleep. I would love the company." She said, as she put the lunch packs on her lap. The girl smiled and sat down across from Cygnus.
 "My name's Lilly, by the way." She said with a smile. Well, she was smiling at Cygnus. Corvus had opened both eyes to alternately glare between Lilly and Cygnus, which meant he was being ignored by both girls.
 "Oh, what a pretty name." Cygnus whined softly. "Much better than mine. I'm Cygnus." she said drooping.
 "...Cygnus?" Lilly asked in obvious sympathy and clearly confused.
 Cygnus nodded. "It's a family name... My twin here is Corvus. Don't mind him, he just doesn't make friends with people easily or quickly." Cygnus said with a smile as she waved off her brother. Corvus glared at her momentarily before settling back with a sigh and staring off at the empty space in front of him.
 "Yeah, he doesn't strike me as a people person."
 "He can be, when he wants to. He just likes to make sure he doesn't waste the effort on people he doesn't know." Cygnus said with a shrug. "Silly if you ask me." She gave her undivided attention to this new person now. "Oh, I love your hairpins!" She said, gushing softly so as not to disturb her twin.
 Lilly tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear self-consciously, but smiled at the compliment. "My Dad got them for me." She said.
 "Oh, my Dad got me some things too. He calls them 'vanity pieces' because it's all jewelry and hair things and such." Cygnus said with a smile. "But, I can't wear any of them till we get to our houses tonight. He charmed them so that they can switch colors to whatever house I get sorted into... since, well... we're not really sure where I'll be. He didn't want to buy me a bunch of things that I may never want to wear."
 Lilly smiled. "That's clever." She said. "Dad just assumed that I would be in Gryffindor." She said with a shrug. "But I guess none of us really know where we'll be."
 "Oh, I knew where my brothers would be long before they got sorted. It's Slytherin green for them."
 Lilly blinked. "Albus is in Slytherin too."
 âAlbus Potter?â Corvus asked, his voice hard. For an 11 year-old at least.
 The two girls paused, Lilly thrown slightly at the intrusion in the conversation, and Cygnus because if that were true, it meant that Lilly was THE Lilly Potter....
 "Yes..." Lilly answered slowly.
 "Hm. I thought I recognized you." He said, before settling back and closing his eyes again.
 The two girls blinked at one another, wondering where that left them. Cygnus finally decided that it really didn't matter who Lilly was related to. She had been very nice after all.
 "He's so odd." She said, shaking her head with a sigh.
 "Sorry..." Lilly murmured looking away.
 "What for?"
 "Well... for not properly introducing myself?"
 Cygnus smiled brightly. "Oh, but you look just like your mother, so it's easy to recognize. If anyone should apologize, it should be me. But I look so much like Father, I assume everyone knows who I am."
 Lilly looked at her for a moment before cocking her head to the side. Her eyes darted up to their luggage in the rack before rounding and returning to Cygnus. "Malfoy?" she breathed in awe.
 Cygnus beamed. "Explains the strange name, doesn't it?"
 Lilly chuckled. "I suppose."
 "Is that alright?" Cygnus asked, momentarily worried that the Potter/Malfoy feud may have carried over to this generation without her knowing it. "That I'm a Malfoy, that is?"
 Lilly smiled softly, her eyes seeming to warm up again. "Does it matter that I'm a Potter?"
 Cygnus smiled back. "Not at all. I think I'm going to like you."
 The two girls ended up talking the entire trip. They barely even noticed the scenery outside as the train sped on its way to Hogwarts. Lilly found out that Cygnus loved to swim and ride horses, but that she felt a little lost in her family. Cygnus told her how her grandparents always scolded her over her posture, saying she was too timid.
 "Now, Cygnus, you are the swan of the family." Cygnus said, trying to mimic Grandmother. "You must hold your head aloft and your shoulders must be squared back. We are Malfoys and we do not lack in confidence." Lilly had laughed at Cygnus who tried to hold her chin sky high and press her shoulders back dramatically. It almost looked like she was about to leap and flap her arms or some other silly interpretive dance.
 Cygnus discovered that Harry Potter wasn't just the hero of the wizarding world, but he was his daughter's hero as well. Not because he was dynamic and heroic, but because no matter how high up in the wizarding world he may be, he was never too busy to climb trees or read aloud before bed. Lilly also liked to fly, but that was supposed to be a secret. Evidently, she and her dad would sneak out to fly together, but they had to keep it a secret because Lilly was âtoo youngâ byâŚwell⌠by someoneâs standards. She never had said who exactly objected to the notion.
 By the time the girls stepped off the train, they were friends. The castle loomed ahead, and they both knew that it wouldn't be long before they would officially be Hogwarts students.
 âLilly?" Cygnus whispered leaning in to her friend as they waited just beyond the great hall.
 "Hm?"
 "... Will you still be my friend... even if I end up in Slytherin?"
 Lilly smiled at her. "Don't worry, Cygnus. I'm from Gryffindor stock. We're a brave type. I'll be your friend no matter what house we're both in.â
 Cygnus smiled. "I feel the same way. Houses shouldn't be the way we label everyone."
 Lilly nodded in reply, and may have elaborated, but then the grand doors were opening... and it was so much to take in. Cygnus could barely breath from the grandeur of it all. Two wizarding wars could not diminish the magnificence that was Hogwarts.
 "I shall call out your names and you shall sit beneath the sorting hat." The speaker may as well have spoken in another language for all Cygnus heard. She was too busy searching out Scorpius at the Slytherin table. There he was! Oh, her brother looked fairly dashing in his Prefect robes... well, they weren't very different from normal robes. But she was biased, and Scorpius always looked dashing.
 "GRYFFINDOR!!"
 Cygnus jumped as the first person was sorted. A golden-haired girl she hadn't met from the train leapt off the chair and scampered happily over to the Gryffindor table. Perhaps it would be better to pay more attention. She forced herself to watch as each student's name was called, then the hat sorted them into their houses. If the wait for the train to leave the station had been long, the wait to get to the M's seemed an eternity.
 "Malfoy, Corvus."
 Corvus smirked, tossed a wink over his shoulder at his sister and sauntered over to the chair. Cygnus sighed inwardly envious, but smiled at him approvingly. If only she could be so confident. There were whispers among the tables, but none so much as the Slytherin table. The hat hadn't been on his head for five seconds before it declared its verdict.
 "SLYTHERIN!!!"
 Cygnus gave a little jump and actually clapped along with the other cheering students.
 "Malfoy, Cygnus."
 Cygnus made sure her chin was as level, high as it needed to be and her shoulders were straight, just like Grandmother had taught her. She wafted over to the chair and perched daintily, placing her feet together and to the side. The hat was placed upon her head, and immediately, the evaluation began.
 "Oh my... my my my my my. Such a bright child."
 "Thank you." Cygnus whispered with a bashful smile.
 "Yes, but the mentality I see here is nothing like the mark left on you by your family name."
 "Yes..." She responded, lowering her eyes a bit. "We assumed that would happen."
 "hmmmm." The hat pondered. "You are quite intelligent... but, you do not peruse knowledge for the sake of knowledge."
 Cygnus's brow drew up as she pondered that assessment. âWell.. I suppose that is true.â She had never considered herself madly intelligent anyway. Still being told she was bright right away was quite the compliment. The hat seemed so good at seeing through to the heart of the matter.
 "Such a lovely child. You are very brave in matters of the heart.... you give your love quite freely, but without a thought of what you may get in return."
 Cygnus pouted slightly, as was her habit when she thought of things. She kept her gaze downward, feeling there was no need to respond to that. Love and the act of loving was hardly something to reward. It wasn't as if the people around her were difficult to love. Even Grandfather was easy to love, and everyone always complained about him for some reason. Then again, of her entire family, Cygnus was the least noteworthy. She was average or passing in most of her pursuits and private studies, and that was a high praise.
 "HUFFLEPUFF!!"
 Cygnus's eyes popped open wide, staring blankly ahead. Had she heard right? Hufflepuff? She was a Hufflepuff? She slid off the chair, fingers numb and arms so cold⌠barely noticing Lilly's cheerful, encouraging smile. The heated whispering that surrounded her grew to exuberant proportions, making her feel as though she were surrounded by vipers.
 "Enough!" Headmistress McGonagall shrilled firmly, regaining order. "You may sit with your housemates, Child." She said.
 Cygnus nodded politely and wandered over to the Hufflepuff table. She tried to ignore the girl she sat next to, since she had made a show of trying to edge away from Cygnus.... She kept her eyes lowered, her gaze on the empty plate in front of her. There was no way she could meet either of her brothers' eyes.... Outwardly, Cygnus seemed demure and resigned, but inwardly she was in torment.
 Hufflepuff. The one house that had not even made it onto Father's list of possibilities. It was bad enough that she wasn't in Slytherin... but Hufflepuff?
 "GRYFFINDOR!!"
 No doubt that was Lilly, joining her family at the Gryffindor table.
 Why? Why had she been put into Hufflepuff? No Malfoy ever... It wasn't even possible to consider it... And yet here she sat. She, Cygnus Violetta Malfoy... the Hufflepuff.
 She vaguely heard the hat call out a few Ravenclaws and wondered why she hadn't argued that she was intelligent! But it had said she was brave too... brave of heart. And she had started thinking about how much she loved her family. Had that been it? What had been the deciding factor?
***********
âThere she is!â The cheerful cry brought Cygnus out of her reverie.
 It was bright and early the morning after she had settled in, and the storm had long since blown past. Cygnus was very eager to get down to her classroom and survey it. She had rushed through breakfast almost tripping herself. The halls were empty and terribly quiet, which only seemed to increase Cygnus's giddiness.
 But now, she had been discovered. She looked up to find the Headmistress coming her way with a kind smile on her face.
 Minerva McGonagall had been an elder in the community when Cygnus had been a student. It shouldnât be too surprising to see the touches of white had bled through, silvering her hair entirely. If grey hair was the sign of wisdom and knowledge was power, then McGonagall was certainly a goddess.
 âOh, Child, how good it is to see you again.â
 Cygnus smiled, taking the offered hand. âIt is my delight, Headmistress.â
 âOh, Gracious. Minerva, my dear. You must call me Minerva. And I am the one who is delighted.â
 âI shall pretend that it isn't solely because I am saving you from teaching Potions yourself, Minerva.â Cygnus replied with a grin.
 McGonigal chuckled as she fell into step beside Cygnus. âWell, I do suppose you are saving us that chore for the year.â she said. âNow that you've spent your first night back, I must ask if your rooms are to your liking?â
 âOh, yes of course. I felt terribly spoiled as they are quite grand.â
 âNonsense. Considering all of the work you will be doing, I believe you shall earn them. Now you shall not hesitate to come to me if there is anything you need, yes?â
 âIâve little doubt that everything will go smoothly. I've been watching my grandfather and learning to mimic him. He's also given me pointers on how best to intimidate others. If the little whelps get out of line, I can pull some Malfoy charm on them.â
 Minerva chuckled. âMalfoy Charm. Is that what you call it?â
 âCharm? Pride? Disdain?â Cygnus shrugged. âWhy does there have to be a difference?â She asked with a sigh.
 Minerva laughed out loud at that. âNow, I'm here to tell you that there will be a staff meeting the day after tomorrow, and you are to attend. It will be at 9 AM sharp, but as I recall, you always were an early riser.â
 âGuilty as charged.â Cygnus said, stopping and turning to face the Headmistress. âWill you be requiring anything specific from this? You did already receive the copy of my syllabus, didn't you?â
 âOh, no it isn't anything like that, my dear. And, I received your syllabus, as you well know. I distinctly remember flooing back with a five-star approval.â
 âAs do I, but there are some moments that we all enjoy reliving.â
 Minerva shook her head. âNo, the meeting is more to aquatint the teachers with one another, and introduce new teachers. It helps for us to let you know what to expect.â
 "There are very many things one will never learn in a book." Cygnus said with a heart-felt nod. How many things had she been better prepared for simply for listening to one of her elders?
 âIndeed. And you are not the only new face we have on staff.â
 âOh?â
 âYes. He has asked to keep this all confidential, at least until term starts, but we will have a new DADA Instructor as well.â
 âI see. I suppose I'll be meeting him tomorrow morning then.â
 âIndeed you will. I assume you are off to survey your new classroom?â Minerva said with a little grin.
 âGuilty again.â Cygnus said with a self-conscious chuckle.
 âWell, make sure to review all of the stores. I'm sure I ordered everything you'll be needing, but a second pair of eyes never hurts. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must be off. Horrid this time of year before the children all arrive.â
 âOh, our poor Headmistress.â Cygnus cooed. âIf you should need anyone to share tea and apple pastries withâŚâ
 âI shall not hesitate to summon you, dear.â Minerva said with a parting smile.
Summary: After responding to an incident, members of the team are saved by an unknown metahuman. But no protocols are in place to deal with the series of unfortunate events that assail Anitia Moore. What exactly should the team do when a someone with powers needs training but doesnât want to be a member of the team?
Authorâs Notes: In case anyone is wondering, the Meghan Trainor song thatâs referenced in the title is supposed to be âLips are Movingâ :)
Without further ado!
Tim Drake wasnât an ungrateful sort of person by nature. In fact, heâd like to think that he looked back on any given day of his life and focused on the silver lining, the good news, the reason to keep going.
 Today, it was the enormous size of the computer interface at the teamâs HQ.
 It came in handy during times when he needed to focus on multiple points at the same time.
 Currently, he had recognition software running over both Anita Mooreâs behavioral patterns for the lastâhe double checked the time span it was currently atâseven months and climbing.
 He was also running a program over her academic recordsâa more fine-tooth comb. It was going through her papers to catalog patterns of speech and recurring themes.
 He was also searching the photos of her bedroom that Bumblebee had taken, in order to catalog the specific items in her room. The bugs were still in place, and the transcript software was running simultaneously (though no one was currently at the Moore house), and he was also monitoring cell phone activity...
 Not only was it impossible for the Moore family to do anything with Anita without him knowing about it, but within a few short hours⌠heâd have a decent sense of who she was as a person.
 âHave you slept?âÂ
Robin didnât look away from the screen as Artemis approached. âI didnât need much.â
 âHmn.â she grunts, but otherwise sheâs satisfied without adding further comment. Conner wanders in as well, and he is gracious enough not to mention Timâs sleeping habits. âWhatâs the word, bird?â
 Conner gave Artemis a questioning look. Her sense of humor had been⌠odd lately.
 âThe Moore girl is at school. Her brothers too. Her motherâs probably at the family bakery.â
 âProbably?â Conner only wants to clarify, because it isnât often that Robin fails to speak in absolutes.
 âHer cell phone is pinging near there. We havenât bugged that location, but itâs still a decent enough estimation.â
 âItâs still too early for drama.â Artemis grumbled.
 As if on cue, a box popped up with an alert.
 âWhatâs that?â Conner asked.
 âText message.â Robin said, squinting at the text that had popped up. ââThis shit is crazy. You wonât even believe.ââ He read robotically.
 âIs that from Anita?â
 âYes. To her mom.â Robin informed. Another text popped up in the same window. ââDonât be surprised if you get a call. Iâm on my way home.â...â As the new information registered, it made his eyes nearly bulged.
 âOh, shit.â Artemis breathed. Conner was already in the elevator, because there was no time to lose.
Anita couldnât fight the slouch sheâd slipped into. Her shoulders were hunched forward and her arms were folded across her stomach, because she couldnât stop herself.
 Her teeth ached and her stomach felt like it was on fire. It came in throbs and waves. Throbs in the teeth and waves in the belly.Â
Pain was such a strange thing. The throbs faded in and out, and the waves crested, peaked, washed through the rest of her nerves and thenâŚ. petered out. Meanwhile, the bwong noise from Inception was still raging in her molars.
 âGoddamn lead.â she muttered to herself.
 âMrs. Douglas, might I steal Anita Moore from you for a moment?â
 That voice brought her momentarily out of her fog. She looked up to see Mr. Davis poking his mostly bald head into the room. The man should just shave⌠the wispy brown hair that haloed his shiny bald head only made him look older. If he shaved, heâd probably look much younger.
 âUh.. very well.â Mr. Douglas looked her way, and nodded.
 Out of habit, Anita grabbed her backpack, which sheâd yet to really unpack. Class had only just started and she was⌠she was not doing well.
 âYou wonât have to worry about your things, dear.â Mrs. Douglas assured, but Anita ignored her.
 She didnât trust her classmates (or anyone else)....and she preferred to keep her things on her person or in her locker. Nothing else made sense to her.
 âWhatâs going on, Mr. Davis?â she asked, her voice low and a little more creaky than usual.
 âI have the greatest news and the best surprise for you!â Mr. Davis enthused. âCome with me.â he said, leading her down the hallway.
 â...I hate surprises.â she monotoned.
 This lanky, red-faced man was mostly harmless, but he still didnât understand boundaries properly as far as Anita was concerned. He was the teacher that sent her essay into the local university for publication.
 âWell, how does a scholarship opportunity sound then?â He asked, an enormous smile on his face.
 ...the man meant well, he really did. But⌠He and Anita had different ideas about her future.Â
He had some weird notion that he was Michelle Pfeiffer and she was the entire class of at-risk ne'er do wells from Dangerous Minds, and if he only prompted her properly, sheâd blossom into an ambitious student⌠At least it wasnât the plot of Sheâs All That.
 âI...donât know that I want a future in science.â Anita admitted reluctantly. It was true, but she was hesitant to relent her truths to anyone.
 âOh! Donât worry about that.â he waved off her admission. He probably didnât believe her, or thought she was âjust being shyâ.
 This was part of why Anita didnât like talking to people. They so rarely listened.
 She followed along, eyeing the dingy tile until he led her into his office. She was distracted, again, by the weird pewter award he had on the corner of his desk. It looked like a large circle set into the top of a pyramid, with a bunch of metal dings all over it.
 âSo, this is the student.â
 Anita whirled around, very nearly colliding with the corner of the desk, to find a sharply dressed man closing the door. He had been behind the open door, so she hadnât noticed him till nowâŚ
 âAnita Moore, meet Mr. Lex Luthor.â Mr. Davis beamed as he motioned between them.
 When Mr. Luthor stepped forward to shake her hand, she stepped back, keeping the corner of the desk between them. She stared at his face in shock, his expression calm and somewhat expectant. Her eyes finally drifted down to his hand. Mr. Davis was giving her that, âwell go on!â look, which only served to annoy her.
 She blinked rapidly, shaking herself out of stasis. She took Lex Luthorâs hand in a firm grip.
 âThatâs quite a handshake you have there.â He said.
 Anita swallowed past her parched throat. âWhy is Mr. Luthor shaking my hand?â she asked the room in general. Also, why wasnât he letting go yet?
 He let out a little laugh and nodded. âRight to the point! I do appreciate directness.â he said, releasing her hand. She was more than a little relieved when he stepped back. âIâm sure you know that Lexcorp awards several scholarships to promising young scholars.â
 Anita felt a tenseness creep up into the back of her neck.
 âI was delighted with your essay about the Mississippi River and the Louisiana Wetlands.â
 âThe swamp essay?â Anita clarified.
 He smiled, and Anita was reminded why charisma was not a dump-stat. This man could sell ice to Eskimos.
 âYes. The leaps you made, connecting the damming of the Mississippi river to the erosion of theââ
 âNone of that research is new or unique. I made those conclusions from the library here.â Anita tried to argue.
 âThat is what makes it significant. I canât imagine what you could possibly do with proper funding and on-site exposure.â Anita just stared at him wide-eyed. âYou donât appear to understand whatâs going on.â
 âAnita is very modest.â Mr. Davis assured, which only made Anita glare at him.
 Mr. Luthor half turned to Mr. Davis and smiled. âMr. Davis, perhaps I could speak with the young lady alone.â
 Anita blinked rapidly, more than a little shocked by this absurd request.
 âOf course!â Mr. Davis said. Anitaâs eyes practically bugged out as the science teacher quickly shuffled out of his office and shut the door.
 Mr. Luthor smirked. âThereâs no need to be so shocked. Mr. Davis wants whatâs best for you, and he knows I can offer you an easy academic future.â
 âI donât need an academic future. I need a practical one. Or...just one at all.â
 An eyebrow arched as he surveyed her. âI wonder. Do you really mean that? You have no intentions of going to college?â
 âI love science, but that doesnât mean itâs going to make up my whole life.â Anita argued. âIâm a teenager. I only know that I donât want to wake up in my 30âs realizing I made a snap decision and ended up putting all my time and energy into a career that I hate.â
 Mr. Luthor turned and inspected Mr. Davisâs bookshelf. âThatâs understandable.â
 When he moved, Anita suddenly felt⌠vulnerable. Like she needed to keep an eye on him, because he was obviously dangerous⌠but she couldnât figure out why.
 Her hand landed on the award, her fingers stretching out over the metal⌠she pulled at the pewter, feeling it seep into her fingers, but it held nothing offensive. It felt...like..like... a shield? Her thumb slid over the little pyramid and the brass nameplate on its base⌠Brass. Oh, that felt promising.
 âI wonder at your passing up this opportunity. You donât have many good connections as it is, and the pressure of your future will not wait. You need to start making plans now. â he said without turning to face her.
 âI beg your pardon.â it was a demand, not a question.
 âAfter all, you have very few resources. Your mother canât possibly support you all by herself, nor should she have to. She has three other children to consider, and theyâll all need her money and attention.â
 It was then that Mr. Luthor turned and eyed her, his gaze dropping to her hand on Mr. Davisâs award, his smirk deepening. âDo you intend to hit me with that?â he asked, sounding almost delighted at the prospect.
 âI donât need to hit you for you to feel it.â Anita challenged.Â
Technically, the lead and kryptonite were still in her system, and jasper never left her person. So⌠she could probably fight her way out of anything. Maybe.... but how bad would it be if it came to that? What sort of fall-out was she looking at?
 Both of his eyebrows rose. âInteresting.âÂ
Her eyes narrowed, because his face was⌠strange. It wasnât the genial showman he had been when Mr. Davis was here. He was something else now⌠It was like he had decided that she was some sort of puzzle, and he wanted to figure her out.
 Putting what heâd said earlier about her familyâknowledge he shouldn't haveâtogether with this new behavior⌠Anitaâs eyes widened, her shoulders hunched forward and her chin jutted out. âYou need to explain yourself right now.â it wasnât quite a challenge, but at the same time it wasnât a request. Not that she was in any position to threaten him...
 âIâm not here because of your essay.â he admitted.
 âI assumed that was a lie.â
 âWhat gave me away?â
 âYour lips were moving.â she snarked, infuriated when he chuckled.
 âA girl like yourself can do many things, Anita. You can go very far, given the proper connections, but⌠youâll always want to keep your family safe...wonât you?â
 âThis is starting to smell a hell of a lot like coercion with the faintest whiff of bullshit.â Anita grumbled.
 Mr. Luthor opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the door opening. Anita was never so happy to see the schoolâs guidance counselor.
 âIâm so sorry!â Miss. McGuire stormed in, her high heels clacking on the old tile and her curly blond hair looking even more frazzled than usual. Her glasses hung like a necklace against her blouse, but those keen blue eyes were both determined and just a touch irate.
âNot at all, I was justââ
 âMr. Luthor, Iâm afraid thereâs been some mistake.â she interrupted. âWe cannot allow one of our students, especially one of our female students, to be left alone without accompaniment.â she said, stressing the obvious predicament they were in.
 âIâm certain Mr. Luthorâs intentions are notââ Mr. Davis began.
 âIntentions are not our business, Mr. Davis.â Miss McGuire rebutted. âOur business is the safety of our charges, both actual and perceived.â
 It was then that Anita realized exactly how bad this would look. She obviously hadnât wanted to be here, and yet Mr. Davis had cornered her in his office with another man⌠and then he left her there, alone with him. It made her skin crawl anew.
 Now that he was back in magnanimous showman mode, Mr. Luthor only nodded. âOf course, I understand that.â
 Anita tried to remember how Mom held herself. The way she spoke and how she behaved. Right now, she needed whatever gumption Mom possessed. She slammed her shoulders back, straightening her spine and holding her chin up from her neck.
 âThank you for your offer, Mr. Luthor, but Iâm not interested in being a commodity.â she bit out, walking past him without making any eye contact. She wanted him to feel shelved, ignored, inept. She did meet Mr. Davisâs eyes. Honestly, Mom would probably threaten legal action...but Anita didnât know if she had that sort of chutzpah. Still, she paused long enough to growl, âExpect a call from my mother.â before stalking out.
 She overheard Mr. Davis grumble, âFantastic.â
 She kept walking, turning down another hallway and then jogging to the nearest exit once she was out of sight.Â
Somehow she still didnât feel safe. She exhaled heavily, trying not to pant as she leaned back against the doorsâŚ. she didnât want to be dramatic, but⌠she really just couldnât make herself go back in there! She pulled out her cell phone and quickly texted Mom.
 âThis shit is crazy. You won't even believe.âÂ
She felt some heaviness in her ankles, and had to wonder if that was the pewter...or maybe the bronze. Still, there hadnât been a lot of bronze there to draw on. Now that she was stationary, it was starting to feel...awkward.Â
 She took a deep, fortifying breath, letting it out slowly. For some reason, this sounded so clear to her. The way you sometimes stuff your ears and listen to yourself breathe...and yet she could still hear everything else.
 âDonât be surprised if you get a call. Iâm on my way home. Mr. Davis threw me in a room with Lex-effin-Luthor for no reason than because Luthor wanted to. You were right, school was a mistake today. I canât even right now.â
 She shook her head again, still completely baffled by what happened. She started her walk home. Itâd take a while by foot, but that time would help her clear her headâŚ. she hoped.
 âŚ
 Six blocks from school, she scuttled into an alleyway when her eyes landed on a free-roaming Superboy.