Chapter 12: Redefinition
Her eyes glowed like blood as we spoke. Not a villain per se, but no longer the heroine she was originally meant to become. Her sister had warned me that the sight of her would tear me to pieces, and even so I was unprepared. I gave her my warmth, stealing from her the cold my sisters gave her. The siege had begun.
A Sister's Love
One might think, with all the goddesses and their Mavi had been through, that they were above mortal quarrels and strife. One might also think that aeons of cycles of failure would give such powerful women perspective into the ways and means of sharing space with not just each other, but the five properly mortal souls in the smithy. One might further assume that a fully and completely reasonable expectation from immensely adept women like them that they would be some measure of patient.
One would be wrong.
As soon as Em calmed down from their initial irritation at Tenebra, they brought Jasmin, Vaelis, and Tal to my room where the children were playing a game that involved who could set up a bedroll on the floor fastest. They were both winning because neither was making any progress, but it made for a good bit of humour for everyone. For all the rooms the smithy had, there weren't quite enough beds to accommodate the children in addition to the rest of us, but Asha was good-spirited, and Sage always followed suit.
"So," Jasmin said barely loud enough to hear, "have we sorted bedding for everyone?"
Nico brightened up quickly. "Mostly. But we had a question for you and Davian surrounding Miss Fl— surrounding Delia that is. She was telling me that she went a walkabout this morn when she near about wrecked her fellow. Said you helped level the tides and get her back on —"
"I mean no offence as I say this," Jasmin interrupted, "but what in the names of the goddesses is she saying Delia?"
"Well, if the storm is over before too long it won't matter," I began, "but the idea I might actually hurt Davian if I share a bed with him is a horror," I met her gaze, hopeful, "but this morning you comforted me, and it felt safe. Like a —"
"Are you Aunt Rosie's wife?" Sage was never one to beat bushes. His voice pierced the air. "Cause Momma said Aunt Rosie got married while she was gone. When is she coming to join us?"
"Oh, sweet boy," Jasmin stepped close and kneeled to Sage's level, "Aunt Rosie did some dreadful big things recently. I can't say we'll see her for quite some time." How was her voice so level as she dealt with all of it? "You saw the lady I was carrying when you found your Momma? That was your Aunt Rosie. And she wore herself to the absolute end."
"She got blue hair?" Asha's excited shriek caused everyone to recoil. "Momma! When do I get blue hair?"
"It's a very lucky soul indeed," Jasmin said, turning to Asha, "who wears blue hair as she stands beside the person she cares most for." Her broad smile was an odd match for the message she was delivering. "And stand she did all the way to the last. Did you know she was the scrappiest fighter I ever met?"
The children seemed to have missed Jasmin's meaning, and I didn't have the heart to be the one to tell them just yet. But I had to hope she was guarding her own heart as well as theirs as she started telling the story that followed.
"Your Aunt Rosie and I met right the sun you and your Momma went on that carriage ride. The one where you all got separated." She stood and started acting out a scene. "I was walking the woods and near about tripped over her. Taking a nap out in the woods. Can you believe?" As she said 'tripped', she feigned toppling to the floor. Em, Vaelis, and Tal settled in around the room, forming a sort of scattered audience for the play.
"Well, turns out she got in a big fight right before that, so I had to take her back home." She lifted Asha from the ground like it was nothing. "I carried her all the way back and helped her feel better." Jasmin lay Asha in my own lap and smiled as she returned to the story. "Then we went on a big adventure, and her hair turned blue one night when she learned a neat trick." Jasmin waved Vaelis over, and took the other woman by the arm. "This one here lit your Aunt Rosie on fire, and then Aunt Rosie made a silver cold-flame."
The children made excited ooh sounds.
"A few moons later, she used that silver cold-flame and made my hair turn silver!" As she said it, Jasmin tossed her hair with a flick of her wrist. "Then we came here so we could see your Momma again, but Aunt Rosie needs to rest for a really really long time. Don't know when she'll ever wake up again. But we can hope, can't we."
She held for a moment as the children took in the words. Our eyes met, a subtle question lingering in the silence. Is this okay?
"We can hope," I said softly, rising to my feet with Asha in my arms. "We can hope that one sun a long time from now we might all be together again." I spun around once before handing Asha over to Jasmin and picking up Sage. "So that you can tell Aunt Rosie your own stories. Who knows, maybe when that sun comes, you might be the scrappiest fighter, and Aunt Jazzy will have to tell Aunt Rosie she's been outdone."
Jasmin and I moved together and set the children down on their still dishevelled bedrolls. "And won't that be an excellent story to share with her if that sun finally greets us," Jasmin said with a brilliant smile.
"Yeah," both children giggled. "Tell us more about your trip with Aunt Rosie, Aunt Jazzy."
I sat with the children as Jasmin took centre stage once more and gave a full reenactment of her time with my sister. There was no better funeral or eulogy I could've asked for Roisin. Both Jasmin and I shed a few tears, but the air in the room lightened a lot as she went on. Eventually, she got to the moment she and Roisin were about to fight the queen.
"So we went together to the throne room," Jasmin said with a ragged breath, shaking equally from the exertion as from the emotions she was feeling. "But I think that this particular sun is too soon for me to share that tale. Perhaps another time." She took a deep breath through her nose. "Smells like breakfast has turned to lunch, and food is ready. Shall we go invade the kitchen, my little niblings?"
Both Asha and Sage jumped into Jasmin's arms with a cheer, and she boldly left the room toward the stairs.
"Never met a hardier sort than her," Tal said softly as the rest of us slowly worked our way to standing. "You should be incredible proud," she looked to Em first, then to me, "both of you. The one for such sturdy stock. The other for the woman your sister found for herself."
"That hardiness, you'll find," Em smiled, "is entirely Deona. But thank you, Tal. Now go make up with your wife."
"You do the same," I said to Em, "before I change my mind and run off with her instead of my own family."
Later that sun, I took Davian and Jasmin aside to have the conversation that the children had interrupted – a secret blessing, really. Since the snow was falling so quickly, going outside was out of the question, but there were plenty of rooms, and I was able to find a spot where the sound wouldn't carry too far.
I had each of them take a seat before I led into it.
"So you both know what happened this morning," it was an excellent start. I breathed as steadily as I could. "And what happened at the palace."
Jasmin raised a hand. "I'm not sure Davian really understands. You might ought to explain, or else none of this will make sense."
One of my eyebrows shot up. "Do you know where this is going? I thought you couldn't see forward after —" My words trailed off. How was I meant to explain to my husband what had happened? With Nico, it was mostly 'I am a well-trained fighter, and apparently skittish'. But Davian deserved more from me.
"Not exactly," she smirked, "but I can imagine, based on where the conversation was headed this morning." Jasmin turned to face Davian. "Do you want the long, short, interesting, or necessary version of the whole story?"
"Do you do that often?" Davian's head tilted to the side. "I can't imagine Roisin liked it if you do. What is the one that scares you least?"
Jasmin doubled over laughing. When she recovered, her eyes were tear-filled, and her face was wet. "You and she must have been close, Davian," she said around sobs. "She reacted pretty much the same way the first time. Moons later, she turned it around on me."
A weak chuckle escaped Davian. "Delia and I practically raised the kid from age seven. Of course we're close. Now." His face went serious again. "Which one scares you least?"
"Delia? I'll defer to you," Jasmin smiled widely at me. "But I'll tell the story, if you need."
"Tell him the necessary bits, and then we can move on to the interesting if he has questions."
"Right." She returned her attention to Davian. "Delia has unimaginable goddess-like powers that can destroy the world if she isn't in control. Admittedly, she doesn't know how to use them, which helps, but she's worried that she will lose control again, and we'll be stuck in another horrendous loop. When she attacked you this morning, it scared her that she might really hurt you." She looked back to me. "Good enough?"
"So that's the most important stuff." The words were dry and lifeless. I couldn't meet Davian's eyes. What would he see in me?
"And now you're here to ask me if I can wait a few more suns, let you get used to sharing space, and occupy a bed in another room until then?" He was incredibly intelligent. "It's really no different than the hundred or more times you and Roisin kicked me out for 'sister time'." His soft smile was too much for me sometimes. Perfect. Peaceful. "You keep joking with these goddesses that you'll run away with them, but you're a man's woman, for lack of better words."
"So you're not mad?" I finally let myself look properly at him. Not even a tiny bit of pain in those eyes. I was a lucky woman.
"If we're allowed to kiss and hug and bump shoulders as we sit next to each other, I will be okay."
"We absolutely can." My heart warmed. "Thank you, Davian."
Jasmin raised a hand. "Not that I mind in the least, but next time you need to have a conversation like this, please confirm with me that I'm alright with it." She pulled Davian to her with one arm. "For what it's worth, I am. And you don't need to worry about me, either, Davian." Jasmin winked at me. "I'm not a man's woman, as you put it. But I am a grieving widow, so nothing to worry over. Besides," she laughed again, "she's my wife's sister. That's practically incest."
"If you're ever in the market again," Davian smiled, "I have a cousin that the whole of Powell's Square is gaga over. Everyone except Roisin." He pushed Jasmin's arm off his shoulder and stood so he could close the space to me. "You two share that bed. When you're ready, we can make the kids sleep in Aunt Jazzy's room, and cuddle proper."
A Soul's Intent
The snow didn't stop. It continued for all it was worth through the first sun. And then the second and third. Tensions were higher with each passing hour, but there was a lot of love in the room.
Love would've been enough in most situations. I can't say why it wasn't in that case, but in my defence, I was a bit preoccupied with other matters as the suns went on.
To really tell that part of the story, I have to start the first night I slept in Jasmin's arms for comfort.
It began as a whisper,
"Goodnight, my love," Davian kissed me softly on the forehead before leaving the room for the separate bedding situation. I was still fuzzy on the details of our relationship, but the warmth of his touch was enough to know this was right.
I turned to find the children giggling as they watched the scene unfold. "You two. Sleep." They covered their faces, and I walked to the bed. "I can't thank you enough, Jasmin."
"Truth be told," her face was tight, like she was holding something in, "I've been worried myself, so thank you." As I climbed into the bed beside her, Jasmin put an arm around me. "You're much bigger than your sister, but I think we can make due."
· Silverthorn scent. Not perfume. ·
My breath hitched when the air coming into my nose was enticingly sweet like death. Queen's Heart – silverthorn. It was strong like the fresh flowers. Where was it coming from.
"Jasmin," I whispered her name, uncertain, "do all nobles insist on strong perfumes?"
"I was going to ask you a similar question of people in Powell's Square." I rolled over to face her mid-sentence. She looked confused. "But no. I've never worn perfumes."
"Neither have I," I insisted. "But I smell Queen's Heart. It's overpowering."
"Roisin used to say the same," she grimaced. "If it's too much, I can roll the other way."
"No. It's nothing to worry over."
Jasmin's eyes closed softly over a few minutes. She was intent on resting. Good for her. I rolled the other way and curled my back against her torso to hopefully get myself in the same state. After a long time, I began drifting off.
· The humming. ·
"Did you say something?" She didn't answer my whispered question. It was like she was already asleep.
A soft lullaby seemed to fill the air around me. Jasmin had a beautiful voice.
or perhaps it was imagination,
For the first time in a year living with Nico and Kovar, they let me into the kitchen. It's definitely a positive thing that they kept me from cooking all that time. I remembered at last that I was a terrible cook. But it turned out that I was a decent enough sous chef. At least for breakfast the next sun.
"Slice these onions," Nico handed me a knife, a wooden board, and a handful of fist-sized onions. "Long thin strips. Then give me the whole board and we'll hit the next step."
I set up a station pretty far from Nico so as not to be in the way. The smithy had an excellent kitchen, so there was more than enough room. Stone counter tops weren't perfect for cutting boards, but it was enough. My first step was a quick and efficient peel of the first layer from the onions.
· It's dull. ·
"Do you have a honing tool or a whetstone, Nico?" Why did I ask that? I tested the blade's edge and confirmed. "This knife is a deadly weapon as dull as it is. Big threat for slipping and slicing."
Her face went a sort of rosy shade. "I gave you the wrong knife. Apologies." She ran to a rack in the back of the kitchen and returned with a much better-loved implement. "I'll take that and have Ko take care of it when she wakes."
The new knife slid through the onions like it wasn't there, yielding beautiful uniform concentric rings of the stuff. After I finished the task, I took the board to Nico as requested. Her eyes went wide.
"If I'd known you had that manner of knife-love, I might've had a blade in those hands far sooner, dear." She looked about and handed me a different board with more of those strange green stalks. "Same cut here, little prawn mouse."
· Step left. ·
My feet acted on their own, carrying me just out of the way of hot water suddenly boiling out of the pan Nico was heating on the stove. Steam rose from the floor right where I would've been standing. I did the best I could to shrug it off while Nico sputtered something about worry. Just needed to cut those stalks.
As with the onion, the stalks were cut in clean and uniform slices almost instantly. Before I could set down the knife, Nico stole the board from me and slipped another in front of me. Meat. "Cube that side of mutton beast for me, then help me hunt down my seasonings."
· Behind the flour. ·
"Have you checked behind the flour, Nico?" What was that? Where had the words come from? "Sorry. That was impertinent of me."
She slapped her forehead. "Oh right. I put it back there when we made that riverfish for you. Glad one of us remembered."
Had I remembered it?
but something was different.
The children were down for a nap. The snow had been falling for three suns. Kovar, Nyx, and Em were tapping away at separate anvils, no words passing between them. Nico and Vaelis were showing each other cold-flame tricks they'd picked up while Tal and Tenebra enjoyed the show. Davian was carving something from a bit of wood.
All hands and minds were occupied except mine. But I enjoyed the rhythm of it. Something peaceful existed in the liminal spaces between other people's work. Hammers tap-tap-tapping, rushes of cold-flame bursts, and the scrape of tools on wood. It was a song.
· Where's Jasmin? ·
"Did you say something, love?" The words slipped out idly before I realised there was no one close enough to have asked about Jasmin. That was enough for me to confirm for certain that I was hearing things.
Rather than sit with the concern, I stood and began the legwork of looking for Jasmin. Or I would have if not for
· Second landing. Supply room. ·
"Thanks, I suppose." I whispered as I started my ascent.
An open door greeted me when I arrived, and I found Jasmin sitting on a milking stool. She was facing the window, but something told me she wasn't actually looking out it.
I stood and leaned against the doorframe, watching her. Something was going on with her, and it wasn't my place to interrupt.
· Remembering her wife. Counting something. Freckles? ·
An image of Roisin popped into my mind. She was absolutely littered with freckles. Her face. Her hands. Her legs.
· Her shoulders when they cuddled. ·
"Shut up," I whispered, drawing Jasmin's attention. She tilted her head and stared at me for a moment. "Sorry. I'm dealing with some thoughts I suppose." Jasmin nodded at my words. "How many freckles on her shoulder?" Why had I asked that?
Jasmin's eyes lit up. I couldn't say if it was fear, worry, or familiarity.
"I'm so sorry. A lot of words have just been spilling out of my mouth the last few suns." She smiled at my apology. "Also that was a super weird question. Forget about it."
"Seven hundred twenty-eight. Twenty-nine if you count the one that was erased by a scar." Jasmin held her breath a moment. "I counted them every single night for a year, you know. It was my way of getting to sleep."
"I know this already, but you really loved her, didn't you." My heart ached for her loss and mine. "I used to trace constellations on Davian's back when were kids." I laughed. "That was before all his freckles were so dense it was impossible to tell them apart."
"Hers were getting there."
· One step forward. One step left. ·
Just as in the kitchen, my feet moved me of their own accord just before Asha and Sage both rolled over each other through the door and into the supply room. I might be face-first on the floor if I hadn't moved.
Without hesitating, Jasmin stood and scooped up both children. "And how are my adorable niblings doing after their nap?"
"Sage didn't sleep!" Asha's snitching behaviour wasn't new. I couldn't blame her. She was an older sister, after all.
"Ah, but sweet little Ashen-Maiden," Jasmin giggled, "how would you know this of your brother if you had been sleeping?"
"Well if no one is sleeping, perhaps we all go down and get a snack?" My words were gentle. The children were tired of being tired. Who could blame them. "Aunt Jazzy has to come with us, though. She's been all alone lately."
I pushed all thoughts of the voice out of my mind. Not enough time to really process it. Best to simply ignore it.
A Truer Fear
Seven suns. Seven long suns within the smithy. After a time, the windows on the first landing were blocked out. Then the second. There was no way to be certain if anyone else in Violet's Repose was still out there. If not for the heat of the forges, we almost certainly would have been frozen after the second sun.
A hollow sizzle had joined us somewhere around the third sun's end. Kovar told me it was common enough during the rainiest seasons for water to find its way through the chimneys and down into the firing chamber. The sizzle wasn't unfounded.
Somewhere around dawn of the sixth sun, the sizzling stopped. Notably, the snow didn't. The third landing's windows were still clear enough we could see the heavy flurries whipping around like a coastal squall.
· Douse the forge. ·
I ignored the voice. I had begun ignoring it regularly after the incident with Jasmin in the closet. Or at least, I ignored it for anything that didn't seem reasonable. It was helpful at times, even if the sound of it made my stomach drop.
· Please. Douse the forge. ·
Several hours passed after the sizzling stopped, and the voice kept pressing the issue. But dousing the forge would spell our end from the cold. There wasn't any surviving the blizzard without the warmth. Why the hells would we want to remove our only source of heat.
· For the love of your life and family. Douse the five-fold goddess-cursed forge. ·
"This is going to sound insane," I began after almost five hours after the voice became a drone of the same command. "But I think we need to douse the forge."
Kovar looked up at me and cocked her head to the side. She looked like a terribly confused bear, and I almost laughed. After a few seconds like that, she took a few short breaths. Something of a fear crossed her features.
"Too cold outside. The ice isn't melting." She stood and rushed to the hottest part of the shop. "Do you know how to weld steel, Nyx?"
Nyxara stood and was rushing to Kovar's side. Em crossed the space in a flash. "I do," they said calmly, "but if you weld that shut we'll have a bigger problem." Em was calculating, quick, and they had already realised the concerns. "Delia's correct. We need to douse the fire, but simply sealing it up will make it explosive."
Why did they know that?
"You're too right. Let's gather up snow and toss it in to cool the flames." Kovar was already crossing to the stairs as she spoke. "Delia may have just saved us all."
· Too late now. ·
Jasmin and Nico rushed down the stairs carrying the children.
"They've fallen asleep," Jasmin was breathless, scared. "But it doesn't seem right. Both their breaths are shallow."
All four of them had been on the third landing, playing together out of the way of the work on the first. Their arrival in the main part of the smithy was how I noticed. Whispy smoke was slowly filling the air throughout the space.
"I'm going up," my words were stable and set. "We need to —"
· Don't open the windows. ·
"— clear out the smoke," I changed course, "but I'm not sure we can open the windows. Any suggestions?"
Em took my hand and had us almost soaring up the stairs. "We go out. Into the storm. And we clear the chimney."
"Is there roof access?" How were they so calm? How was anyone not terrified? How was I thinking so clearly?
"There's an attic hatch in one of the closets. The attic has a hatch itself that gets you to the roof. I used it ages ago to sit out and look at the stars." They all but dragged me along as they spoke. A white cold-flame surrounded both of us. "Stars were the only thing keeping me sane while I was separated from Deona."
We were into the attic, which was filled with junk, and through to the roof hatch in a second. The smoke was thicker there, but we kept moving. "What about the others?"
"Kovar and Nyx will get everyone to the lowest level. Trust them."
"Why me?" The first reasonable question I could ask.
· Because you're warm. ·
"Probably your warmth. Hotter than Nyx by a measure and a half, girl." Em smiled at me. "Now let's get out there. I'll keep you warm to the best of my ability, though my cold-flame burns cooler than most. Your digs are to heat up the chimney."
As we stepped out onto the roof, I was struck by the image. Twenty or more feet of snow blanketed everything within the walls of Violet's Repose. Everything for miles within the valley was white. More than half the city was buried. The only buildings still visible were those with at least three levels, and a lot of them were starting to show signs of struggling against the storm.
Worse though was the frost that seemed to invade my bones. My skin turned brittle, and my eyes burned. Anyone who didn't get inside was certainly gone. A lot of people who did would be as well. And if we didn't get the chimney cleared, everyone in Kovar and Iron smithy would be as well.
· Step to the right. Don't slip. ·
Em had been dragging me on. I wasn't in full control. My hand had to yank them to a different path, just to the right of their previous intended steps. They stared back at me, then down to where they were about to step. Shiny slick ice. They would've fallen.
Without thanking me, they kept moving, and we found ourselves at the steel chimney complex that served to vent the forge below. The whole space between the pipes was frozen, clear ice.
"I don't know how to do this, Em," I admitted as I stared at the mess we were in. The snow felt like it was starting to cut into my skin.
"Just do what makes sense, girl." Em pushed their white cold-flame a bit harder until both of us were engulfed in it and the noise of the storm stopped. The snow stopped cutting at me. "Kovar saw something in you. A power of change. So. Do what comes to you when you put your hands on the ice." They smiled. "We have about five minutes to sort this before I have to drag you back inside. Get to it."
· Hands on the ice, Delia. ·
"Shut up," I whispered, but I still complied.
· Let your soul do the work. Cold-flame is the soul welcoming life. It burns cold or hot to bring life together. ·
"Who the fuck said you could tell me how to live?" The whisper was almost a growl. I wasn't sure they heard, but if they had, Em didn't comment.
· Breathe in deep. Breathe out and push yourself into the ice. ·
The golden cold-flame began as a whisper within Em's white flames. My hand was freezing, but as I breathed out, the cold became a heat, and the water began to melt.
· Good. Keep going. ·
"Who are you?" I whispered, but the voice didn't come back. I just kept pushing myself into the ice. Little by little it began to recede. "It's working, Em," I said with a full chest.
"Excellent. Sooner the ice is gone, the sooner we can get inside."
An otherworldly shriek broke through the storm, through Em's cold-flame shield, and through my heart. Both our cold-flames were extinguished. Something gripped us both. One breath. A second. And then it all came back.
"What was that?" I was terrified.
"No clue," Em said without hesitation. "Just get this job done."
"Aye."
I could swear Em's cold-flames were flickering by the time the smoke started pushing through the chimneys, and they began to warm up without my help.
"Let's go. I'll handle the warmth for the rest of this, Em. Relax." That's when I saw they were sweating, but they complied and let down their cold-flame. "We can get inside, and decide what comes next."
It was a tight thing, but we managed to get the smoke thin enough that we would be fine. The rest of the sixth sun was tense, but we made it through. As noon arrived on the seventh sun, the snow at last stopped, and the shrieks began piercing through the sound of the wind.
Something was coming.