Genre: Fantasy, witchy-bitchy, kinda angst, kinda smut, maybe hurt/comfort, again I think?
What to know: I watched the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina series, okay, I binged it, and I just wanted to write a story of... being witchy-bitchy. Since I was inspired by the Sabrina series, it influenced me, but I also mixed all sorts of witch-interpretations from current pop culture, but if you want to, you can see it as a story from the expended universe of Sabrina. No characters from the show are present though. The story summary is available on the contents page. The previous parts are available on the blog.
Warning: swearing, I guess that's all
Category: T (teen&up)
Length: 3240 words
Length: 3240 words
BENEATH THE MOON - PART III.
Darius left her sleeping on the
couch, covering her up. He then went up to their own room and exhaled an
agitated sigh as he dropped down to the bed. Blanche was already tucked in,
reading a book on herbs and potions, underlining some lines she thought she would
need later.
‘She’s still asleep?’
‘I hope she gets up in the
morning,’ he answered, indirectly answering the question itself.
‘I think she’s alright,’ Blanche
smiled, not really paying attention to him. Her hands unconsciously moved to
his shoulder to ease his anxiety. ‘She’s just weak and exhausted, she’ll come
around.’
‘I hope you’re right. You
showered yet?’
Blanche nodded and turned back to
her book where the next chapter told her all the secrets of potions for the
mind and memory.
‘What are you reading?’
‘We prepared a bottle of vigor for her to drink when she wakes,
and Leda knew the entire recipe by heart, so, I decided, again, to emerge
myself in potions again.’ She had always been interested in herbs, just like Gen, Darius thought, but she
had never been the one for potions, but from time to time she came up with the idea that she’ll be educating herself and she’ll become an expert.
Darius with the shake of a head
went to take a shower. He was worried about Gen and the council, the vote, even
Blanche. What they did was the indirect cause, not to mention that they invaded
the late Duke’s office for a spell they did not know what would do.
Not long after six in the
morning, Gen on the couch with a painfully empty stomach, a sore-throat, and a
terribly aching head. She felt miserable in every way she could, barely felt
her limbs, and really didn’t feel like getting up. At all. But the sun was
already lurking over the horizon, not letting her go back to sleep so she
decided to stretch her legs until the others would wake.
The house was nice and tidy, not
so big but homey and cosy, filled with lots of pictures and paintings on the
wall, books on the shelves, patterned blankets and rugs. It was the kind of
place she would have loved to live at. With the small little staircase leading
upstairs, a corridor leading to the back of the house, with white doors lined
up each side, divided by family pictures of Blanche and another woman, Blanche
and people who seemed like her parents, Blanche, the woman and Darius together.
‘Oh, so you’re up already!’ the
woman from the picture stepped out of a room at the back of the house. Her
short, black hair was wavy and messy, she was putting on a flower printed robe.
‘How are you feeling, are you okay?’
‘Uhm…’ she cleared her throat,
scratching the back of her head. ‘I guess I am sort of alright, thank you.’ As
the woman stepped closer, she seemed more and more familiar to Gen, but she
couldn’t actually put her finger on it. ‘You are…?’
‘Oh, uhm, I’m Leda. I’m Blanche’s
aunt, we actually met a couple of times, cursorily, back before you went MIA.’
‘MIA?’ she frowned all confused.
‘Missing in action, sorry. I
guess we have to catch you up real bad,’ she cajoled, passing by Gen, making
her way to the kitchen. She drew the shutters up by a snap of her fingers,
letting all the sunshine in, turning the whole house into some really magical
place. ‘Yesterday, while you were knocked out, we made you this,’ she told Gen,
taking a bottle of shiny blue potion out of the refrigerator. Gen remembered
when they were becoming a common thing in households, but she never really had
the time to get one or understand them. ‘It’s vigor, with a little menta favouring.’ She poured some into a glass
and handed it to Gen. ‘It’s going to help you, but I’ll make you some breakfast
as well, until the lovebirds wake.’
‘I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you
earlier –‘ she tried to apologise, her voice still rather husky.
‘It was decades ago, don’t worry
about it,’ she dabbed, cracking some eggs into a bowl. ‘I’ll make some fried
eggs for you. Or a lot. You eat as much as you want.’
Gen was disturbed, still very
weak, but the vigor she started
sipping felt like it went straight to her blood. She even felt like as if it
instantly turned into strength, stopping the shaking, even relieving her pains
of all sorts. She sat down to the table and watched Leda make some breakfast,
moving around the kitchen like some sort of fairy; airy steps, light moves,
doing everything out of routine. Lovely smells started to fill the house.
‘Blanche told me all about what
happened yesterday,’ Leda started, putting a plate in front of Gen, then
started cutting some vegetables and bread.
‘It wasn’t my proudest hour,
really,’ Gen coughed, sipping some more potion. ‘I just needed to get my
vengeance.’
‘I can imagine that.’ She
continued chopping, while behind her back the coffee put on itself. ‘And I need
you to know, that we support you. But it’s not going to be an easy road.’
‘I never thought it would be.’
They then went on small talking
about their lives – or about Leda’s life, really. She told Gen that she’d been
raising Blanche since she was two years old because her parents went off to
discover India and never returned, probably still researching something over
there, or maybe even dead by now. But they never did return, leaving Blanche to
the care of her father’s sister. She also told Gen that she had a winter garden
at the back of the house, with both flowers and herbs that she uses for potions
and charms, she let Gen use them whenever she needed them. Leda babbled about
Darius as well; how he courted Blanche until she felt ready to get into a new
relationship, and how he had been part of their family from then on, not only
protecting them both, but also taking care of house chores and buying them food
when they had rough times, and they had become friends over time.
Their little cottage, that the
three of them shared reflected each of them, and they were ready to take Gen in
if she wanted to stay at their house. They had a separated guestroom with its
own bathroom that Leda had already prepared.
Her hospitality and the fact she
had already thought about everything by the time she came around astonished
Gen, it was not what she was expecting. She had thought about getting out of
that cell, killing the Duke, getting her revenge. She thought that she would
have to face the charges that she left hanging when she disappeared, and even
the charges of murder, but she never thought how she would continue her life.
Whether she would move out of the city, maybe out of the country, or she would
stay and continue her life as if nothing ever happened. Where she would live,
what she would do to support herself. She never got that far in her
imagination, so Leda taking care of that for her.
‘I laid out some bedding for you,
and some clothes of my own. It’s a separate building, but the door is at the
end of the corridor, to the left. Last door. It doesn’t have a kitchen, or
anything, just a room and a bathroom, but it’ll do.’
‘You’re too kind,’ Gen responded,
fighting back some tears. She looked at Leda as if she was some kind of angel –
which was rather ironic, considering that she was a witch.
‘You’re not a bad person, Guine
–‘ she started, but Gen intermitted;
‘Just call me Gen.’
‘You’re not a bad person, Gen. A
lot of bad things have happened to you, but that doesn’t make you bad. And I
don’t stand for injustice.’ Gen looked up at Leda, saw her eyes shining with
all kinds of motherly feelings, empathy and power radiating off her face, and
Gen just wanted to hug her, sob into her chest, and hide from everything. But
she had buried those kinds of feelings when her family died.
A couple of hours later, Darius
and Blanche went down for breakfast. Darius hugged Gen again, she thanked
Blanche again and again for rescuing her from that underground prison. They
talked about the herbs in the winter garden, the guest room and that they
needed to summon the council in a couple of hours to avoid scandal or further
problems with the rest of the coven. Darius, as a deputy, was put in an
impossible situation, but Gen had no hard feelings. She just needed a long
shower, some fresh clothes, and more eggs to shovel down her throat.
‘You’re gonna be okay,’ Darius
promised, patting Gen’s shoulder in a supporting manner. ‘We’re gonna be okay.’
Gen ate some more eggs, drank
another glass of the potion to make herself a bit stronger, then went to the
guestroom Leda mentioned to her. It was just like the rest of the house; filled
with books, some plants in the corners, paintings on the wall. A wardrobe, a
king bed in the middle of the room with flower-patterned cover and cushions. A
desk by the window, some papers stacked in the corner. Books on the shelves,
another door that led to the bathroom where she could take a shower and sit on
the loo, crying out all the stress she held in for what seemed like an
eternity. She did find some clothes in the wardrobe; a bra she would have never
bought back in her time, and strangely tight pair of jeans with a looser T-shirt. She never really cared about how she dressed, but it was all new to her.
It was very tight, very different, very modern.
She did need to catch up with the world.
As Darius, Blanche, and even Leda
were making their ways to school with her, Darius and Gen lagged behind to talk
for a couple of minutes more.
‘I don’t know how this is going
to go down, but we’ll come up with something, no matter what, alright?’
‘It’s okay, Darius, really,’ she
promised. ‘I’ve had my time in the cell, whatever they decide now, won’t really
matter. I mean it.’
‘You can’t really mean it, Gen,’
he fussed. ‘You didn’t come this far for this. I’m not taking this bullshit.’
‘Can’t we talk about something
else?’ she implored him.
‘Like what?’
‘Like you? You are deputy Duke,
about to become the Duke, living together with a girl that is basically way to
good to be part of this excuse of a coven –‘
‘She is, isn’t she?’ he chuckled,
his eyes wandering off to the distance. Gen noticed the traits of his Scottish
accent and his love. ‘I don’t even know how it happened.’
‘I do. Leda told me all about how
you wooed her and everything,’ she smiled, crossing her arms on her chest.
‘Just so you know: nobody uses the
word “woo” anymore.’
‘Yes, I guess I’m kind of lagging
behind on everything. Words, clothes… this isn’t my world anymore.’
‘We’ll guide you through it,’ he
promised, embracing her with one arm. She still recognised his scent, and he
recognised hers; it meant family. The only family they had left.
‘So, what will happen now?’
‘I guess we’ll summon the council.
We’ll tell them all that’s happened, and they most probably will start a
trial.’
‘Leave Blanche and Danny out of
the story. Tell them I got out myself.’
‘How would have you gotten out of
a cell that never allowed you to use magic?’
‘They still don’t fully
understand my powers, I assume, let’s –‘
‘We can’t mislead them, they
would know right away. I don’t want to admit that my girlfriend and one of my
students stole a spell from the late Duke, but I don’t really see any other
options,’ Darius argued. He seemed frustrated.
‘Then just tell them that they
have set me free on their own,’ she demanded. ‘They don’t have to know all the
details.’ With that said, they set foot in the school. It was grand, mostly
decorated with black and golden colours, with a huge Satan statue in the middle
of the hall that she had missed the previous day as she was on her way to
murder someone she was taught to defend at all costs. Leda and Blanche sent
them worried glances and let Darius lead Gen and them to the office of the all-time
Duke.
She still felt strangely
uncomfortable in her clothes. Strangely, because at the same time, she felt
comfortable at the same time.
Members of the coven were already
there, including the widow of the Duke. She was tall, in some way resembled a greyhound
with her long, bony legs, and oblong, sunken face. ‘I thought you’d never
come,’ she boasted, with an obnoxious smile on her face. Flashes of lightning flashed
from her eyes. ‘I thought you’d run again, as you did back then.’
‘I ran because your husband didn’t
leave me any other choice,’ Gen spat through her teeth.
‘Because what you’ve done,’ she
started, pausing between parts of the sentence, ‘what you’ve become is an
abomination. You shouldn’t even be alive,’ she argued, her voice deepening.
There was something threatening about her tranquillity. Danny arrived at just
that moment, silently closing the doors behind his back. The tension was just
as high in the office as it had been the day before, with members of the coven,
even young ones, including students, were standing at the two opposing sides of
the office. The corpse of the Duke was laid behind and covered with a black
silk behind the desk, Darius, Leda, Guinevere, and Blanche were standing in the
middle, facing the evillest looking woman he had ever seen; she was the one to
speak up the day before. He didn’t know her name but knew that she was the
widow of the Duke.
Danny felt people looking at him,
but he was focused on the people in the middle, he didn’t even see his sister
standing at the back of the crowd on his left.
‘What am I, Lady Mallory?’ Gen
asked. She decided not to back down, the widow’s hostility made her confident,
ready to fight. ‘Tell me. What am I?’
Darius, fearing any confrontation
would lead to more trouble, stepped in, holding Gen back by grabbing both her
shoulders. ‘I think we should leave the existential philosophy for another time
and summon the council.’
The general murmuring stopped at
that moment as he started the incantation. After the first sentence, Lady
Mallory joined in as if she thought it wouldn’t work if only Darius summoned
the council. The High Council consisted of the eldest High Priests there were
to find; three out of four was born back in the tenth century and were mostly
rigid, but the fourth one was selected as a member in the twentieth century,
and he was born in the eighteenth. Darius knew him from before he was a member of
the council, so he decided he would appeal to his emotions.
When Darius and Lady Mallory
stopped, a warm breeze swept through the room, and with a bright flash, the
council appeared in front of the desk. They all wore old, black robes, and
didn’t seem very happy about the situation.
‘For your own sake, Darius, I
hope you have a good reason to summon us,’ the youngest one commented, already
bored.
‘I’m afraid I do, my friend,’ he
sighed worriedly. ‘We have found ourselves in the need of…’
‘Guinevere Hepburn has been
found, and moments later she killed my husband,’ Lady Mallory interrupted,
unapologetically stepping forward.
‘Yes, that is true,’ Darius
snapped, ‘but before we could move on with that, we need a Duke for the trial,
Lady Mallory.’
Gen bypassed Darius and stood
right in front of the council. Head held high, firm stance, arms crossed, but
as she opened her mouth to speak, Lady Mallory interrupted her as well, arguing
that her existence is a threat to all living creatures, mortals and witches
alike, and she was never sentenced as she should have been. Gen was responding
with passive-aggressive comments, raising her voice to outvoice Mallory. Darius
was gasping for air and turning to each of them minute by minute as if he had
forgotten the presence of the council.
‘Stop it already!’ one alderman
shouted, frustrated with the situation altogether. ‘How dare you waste our
time with this nonsense circus?’ Darius shared a quick glance with his former
friend, who then spoke up. He was firm, but not loud.
‘Lady Mallory, I have to ask you
to step back, as I don’t see your role in this conversation.’ She was offended,
inhaled sharply, she couldn’t believe how the alderman treated her, but she
couldn’t bring herself to oppose a member of the High Council. ‘It is clear
that the first problem that needs solving is the lack of a reigning Duke.’
‘I agree with Brother
Willoughby,’ another member joined with shaky, airy voice. ‘Without a Duke, we
cannot proceed with a trial, no matter what charges we start.’
‘Is there any nomination for this
position?’
After a minute of silence, Leda
stepped forward, shyly clearing her throat before she spoke up: ‘I nominate
Darius Homewood.’
Lady Mallory’s head almost
exploded, and without thinking, she shouted: ‘I nominate myself!’
The right side of the room
started whispering and murmuring restlessly, while the other was outraged. By
that time for years, it was obvious that if Mallory would die, Darius would
take his place, and the widow’s proposition conflicted that. Danny was afraid
of the reactions.
The council shared some
meaningful glances before the oldest spoke up. His face was wrinkly, his eye
was fading light blue, all his limbs were shaking by each movement. ‘The vote
and inauguration will take place in a month, on the night of the next full moon.
You can gather your supporters until then, but all kinds of intriguing will be
seriously retaliated.’
‘We will decide about the fate of
Guinevere Hepburn after your coven has a Duke.’
‘And she’ll just go freely for a
month?’ Lady Mallory was disgusted by the mere thought. ‘After all, she’s done?’
‘I had been locked up in a cell
for more than seventy years by your husband. I deserve a month to go as I
wish,’ she claimed, staring at Mallory with a look that could kill.
‘And what would guarantee that
you wouldn’t run and hide as you’ve done before?’ Lady Mallory’s face was
twitching with hatred.
‘I guess you would never trust me
on my word,’ Gen smirked, satisfied by the fact that her mere existence
aggravated Lady Mallory.
‘I know better than to trust a freak.’
‘Enough is enough, witches!’ the
council shouted in unison, then the youngest man continued: ‘Brother Homewood,
as the deputy for the late Duke, you shall bind Sister Hepburn to the town
until there’s a sentence in her case. Anyone unbinding her shall be thrown into
the pit. Sister Hepburn, you should look for someone who would represent your
cause in the trial.’
‘If that is all, the council will
recede.’
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