“Right, who told Frances about the Greenhouse?” Diana asked.
“Wasn’t Blazey. She keeps to herself and she knows,” said John. He pursed his lips. “Morgan, what are you waiting for Frances to do anyway?”
“She said something about visiting the infirmary. What is going on?” Morgan demanded.
“One of the kids must have then,” said Diana. The harpy turned to Morgan. “Your—Morgan, it’s nothing important. Hattie’s not here right?”
“No. She said…” Morgan blinked and frowned. Now that she thought about it, when Frances had asked if Hattie would like to go, her crush—fellow student—had declined, with a smile, but it hadn’t been a full one. “She said she shouldn’t. Actually, speaking of which, why is Hattie living apart from you all? She’s an orphan too, right?”
John and Diana glanced at one another, and the centaur was the one who collected himself with a cough.
“So um, Hattie doesn’t live here partly because she’s quite old and is an adult now, but also because many of the orphans here are jealous she has Frances as a mentor. You know some of them, like Sighla, Rendelia, Persaphire and Tavara.”
Morgan nodded. That apology had been incredibly awkward, especially as Tavara had been in the infirmary at the time.
“Ah, wait. It’s not just those four idiots?” Morgan asked. She shook her head. “Sorry, I mean. It’s not just those four girls?” At the shake of John’s head, Morgan frowned. “Okay but like…why? I mean Frances is great, amazing even, but there’s nothing to be jealous about.”
Diana ruffled her wings and shrugged the blanket off of her onto the couch. “You really have no clue about how lucky you are, do you princess?”
“Well enlighten me then, Diana,” said Morgan a little heatedly.
John sighed. “Diana—”
“She should know what she has, John, and what others don’t have,” hissed the harpy. Diana glared at Morgan. “You want to know? Follow me. We need to go the infirmary anyway to make sure she doesn’t spend an entire evening.”
Morgan arched an eyebrow and stormed after the harpy. “Look, what is your deal? I know Frances is a great teacher.” She blinked. “And what do you mean spend an entire evening?”
“You don’t know the half of it, princess. And I do mean an entire evening. Whenever Timur is out on a trip, Frances ends up working a day at Respite and spending the night,” said Diana. The harply glanced at Morgan. “Though, I suppose she did promise to meet up with you, right?”
“Yeah…” Morgan shook her head. “Holdon, why is it bad that Frances is spending her time in Respite? I thought she was the one who kinda messed up the buildings in the first place?”
Diana came to a sudden halt, so quickly that Morgan had to flare her wings to slow her stride, lest she collide with the girl, who was now whirling on her.
“She what?” Diana squawked.
“She told me she messed up the buildings, and that she comes in to help out time to time because of it,” Morgan stammered.
“Oh for the love of Galena,” John muttered, clopping up behind them. “And after all the times we tried to not-so-subtly tell her that it was fine.”
“Fine?” Morgan asked. “I mean, Respite is nice, but the buildings are…well don’t you find them a little chaotic?”
“Well yes, but—” Diana groaned and shook her head. “Look, yes Respite is a bit of a maze, but it’s home and Frances made sure we had everything. I mean…” The harpy waved Morgan toward a door. “Just look.”
The harpy hopped up, batting her wings so she could use her feet to twist the doorknob. She pushed the door open and led Morgan in.
It was a dormitory packed with beds, but Morgan could only see them once she passed open wooden screen doors. A few were left open allowing the princess to peek in. The rooms were varied, but they all featured a bed, or in a few cases, bunk beds. Personal effects were stored in chests or simple shelves.
It wasn’t all the dormitory had. There was a very large bathroom at the end of the building, and corridors led from the sleeping areas to wide balconies.
“You see? I mean, it’s not much—”
“But everything necessary is here,” said Morgan, nodding slowly. If there was any unhappiness in the occupants of the rooms, she couldn’t see it, especially with how decorated these abodes were with little arts and crafts and pictures. “I don’t get it though, what does Frances have to do with any of this?”
“She made sure we had all of this, and she’s continuing to try to make things better.” Diana gestured to the sleeping area. “These are temporary. She’s making sure that permanent bedrooms are being built, along with other buildings like the greenhouse.
“Wait, but…I thought Frances was also teaching at the school?” Morgan asked.
“She does that. And fights against the raids, and is co-chair of the Athelda-Aoun City council,” John grimaced. “I have no clue how she does it.”
It certainly explained to Morgan why her mentor seemed to be running all over Athelda-Aoun if she wasn’t cooking, or teaching Hattie and her.
Oh.
“Should I be here then?” Morgan asked. She swallowed. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to make others just as jealous.”
“Kind of. That’s why we’re taking you to Frances,” said John. He smiled apologetically. “You don’t want any awkward stares do you, princess?”
Morgan shook her head as the pair set off again.
They were about halfway through a dining hall when Morgan had a thought.
“Holdup. What do you mean by ‘kind of,’ John? Are you saying they’re more jealous of me rather than Hattie?” Morgan asked.
“What? No. They’re more jealous of Hattie rather than you,” said Diana.
“Huh? But…what? Frances just became my teacher and Hattie’s been her student for more than a year now,” said Morgan. “Why would they still be jealous of her? Not to mention that she has never been a b—been an ass about being Frances’s apprentice. She’s helpful and kind and just…a good person.”
Diana had been glaring at Morgan, but her expression now softened. “Yeah, she’s nice.”
“I know right! I mean…she seems kinda…quieter than usual right now, but that’s her and—” Morgan groaned and shook her head. “Sorry,”
John smiled. “No, you’re right, it’s stupid. She helped us settle into Respite and Athelda-Aoun. Diana and I have always been thankful for that.” The centaur frowned. “Come to think of it…did we ever thank her for that D?”
The harpy shook her head. “No we haven’t. We probably should. She helped me get some…things.”
Morgan coughed as they continued through Respite, noting the walls decorated with paintings and tapestries clearly drawn or woven by its younger occupants. “Right, so why would people be jealous of Hattie more than me?”
“It’s because you’re a princess and because Timur’s your guardian. You’re of the blood and the folk understand that Frances would help Timur’s niece,” said Diana.
John sighed. “Add the fact Hattie did betray Athelda-Aoun and well, is it really that surprising?”
Morgan blinked, mentally reeling from what she was told. “I’m a bastard though. I…what?”
“Still a princess. Still of royal blood and still in line to the throne of Alavaria,” said Diana, her lips twisting in a sneer.
“Fucking didn’t ask for it,” muttered Morgan.
“I know, but I bet you enjoyed living in the lap of luxury and being brought up in a palace,” said Diana, continuing to walk on.
John sighed, “Diana—”
“Excuse me?” Morgan snarled.
The harpy turned around and met Morgan’s gaze, and despite being of slighter build and of shorter height, she didn’t look away. “I’m…sorry, but how do you not get that you’re a princess? You had the choicest food, libraries filled with books. You were safe and didn't have to work a day in your life.”
To Morgan’s fury, bitter guilt stuck into her throat. It made her ball her hands into fists and wound her muscles taut.
It was promptly followed by a spark of fury.
“Yeah, but it didn’t keep me safe from my grandfather. He was the one who got me kidnapped,” Morgan hissed.
Diana blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Frances told me that my grandfather lured Earl Darius to kidnap me because he wanted to hurt uncle Timur. So no, being a princess doesn’t actually keep you fucking safe.”
John frowned. “How the heck did your grandfather have you kidnapped by humans?”
“He lied to Darius’s spies,” said Morgan. Taking a deep breath she bit down her anger. “So yeah, no. I don’t get what’s so great about being a princess especially when that does shit to protect you from evil folk who have power.”
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Diana groaned. “You got that right.” The harpy extended her claw. “Again, I’m sorry, I…I’m working on my stuff as well.”
Morgan was initially tempted to bat that claw away, but after a moment, she bit down her wounded pride and shook the claw with her own.
After that they continued to make their way to the infirmary in silence.
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The trio found a small group of children lying in beds, watching Frances as she finished up a story. Morgan didn’t recognize it immediately and so she waited quietly, listening to her mentor.
“So Yalisa led Alan, Moragon and Nimlen deep underground into a cave. Following her instruction they offered prayers to Galena, calling on her for help against the Goblin Empire and their forces. They then began to sing. Alan spoke Words of Power, Moragan sang the high notes, Nimlen sang the low notes and Yalisa conducted. According to Alan, none of them were sure what Yalisa’s plan was, but they all trusted her with their lives, as she’d guided them through countless trials.”
Frances took a quick breath. “At first, every person kept to their own role, but as they sang that song their voices intermingled. They began to speak Words of Power and sing at the same time, their voices combining into one grand song. When the spell was finished, the Temple of the Otherworlders had been created, and the first group of Otherworlders had arrived. And the rest is as we say, history.”
There was no response other than quiet snoring, for the children in the beds had fallen asleep. Frances, smiling, walked over to tuck one of them in, a half-human half-ogre child with an amputated arm.
Then with silent steps, she walked to the infirmary doorway.
“Ah, thank you for being patient, Morgan,” Frances whispered, closing the door behind her. “And how are you, John, Diana?”
“We’re good,” said John.
“Alright,” muttered Diana.
“Do you do this every day, Frances?” Morgan asked suddenly.
“Ah no. I visit every so often. It makes me feel a bit better to help them any way I could,” said Frances. She sighed. “Besides, I might as well put the knowledge I’ve learnt from the scrolls to use.”
“What do you mean?” Morgan asked.
Frances pursed her lips and glanced at John and Diana. “You all know I’ve been working on a research project for a while. I’m trying to recreate the true song magic that King Alan and his comrades cast in order to fight King Thorgoth. We have deciphered Alan’s original notes, but we have no clues because it turns out Queen Yalisa led the song and she either didn’t explain to her friends, or didn’t let Alan record that part of history.”
John grimaced. “That…that sounds like a bust.”
“There are some clues, but it’s been very slow going trying to put what they did together.” Frances ran a hand through her hair. “In any case, you two don’t have to worry about it. Leave it to me.”
Morgan wasn’t sure, but she found herself frowning, along with John and Diana. Still, when they didn’t speak up, she decided not to.
“Alright, Frances. Um, by the way, we know it’s a bit late, but we’d like to visit Hattie at some point and thank her for some things she helped us with,” said John.
“Do you know where she lives, and if she’s taking guests?”
“She lives at the Old Copper Mine entrance.” Frances glanced between Morgan and the pair, before smiling. “She’d like guests. I’ll let her know when she comes over to dinner to expect the pair of you.”
“Thank you, Frances,” said Diana, dipping her head.
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Frances wasn’t sure why, but Morgan seemed unusually quiet on their walk back towards their home. It was true that the harpy-troll usually did keep to herself. However, something about how her golden eyes, so much like her biological mother’s, seemed to focus on the pavement.
That and Morgan also was staring at Frances when she didn’t think her teacher noticed.
“How did you find the day, Morgan?” Frances asked.
For a flash moment, Morgan smiled, but it faded suddenly.
“It was good. Um, kinda fun actually.”
“Oh. And um, how did you get along with Diana and John?” Frances asked.
“Eh…Diana’s fine. John seems like a good guy though.”
Sensing that it wasn’t the harpy and centaur Morgan seemed to be thinking about, Frances felt herself relax a bit. Considering her next words, she pursed her lips.
“Ah good. I’m just wondering, though, Morgan if there is something bothering you. If you don’t want to share that’s fine, I just think I can help,” said Frances.
Morgan stopped, forcing Frances to pause and turn to face her.
“How…how much of a pain in the ass am I to take care of, Frances?”
Frances blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It’s just…you’re so busy. So many people and folk need you to help them and…I’m glad you’re helping me but how the fuck are you doing all of this?” Morgan stammered. “Why are you doing all of this?”
“Because it’s important to me. You, Athelda-Aoun, the children and my friends are all important and need to be kept safe,” said Frances. She smiled. “Morgan, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not taking on this alone. I have my friends, my mother and plenty of support.”
“Okay yeah, but why are you choosing to do this? What do you got to prove?”
Frances blinked. Prove? She wasn’t…she wasn’t doing this to prove anything. She didn’t care about that. All she cared about was protecting Athelda-Aoun, her home, where she’d never been happier. Where she was loved, useful and not a—
Something cold snapped around Frances’s chest along with an echoed, faint scream.
Waste of space.
Waste of space.
“Frances?”
Waste of space.
“Frances!”
Sharp pain speared through her hand, blinking, Frances stepped back, trying to shake the pain off.
Blinking, the world returned around Frances and she winced.
“What the…” She looked at her hand, there was a bite mark?
“Oh thank Galena, that worked,” stammered Morgan, wiping the edge of her mouth.
“Morgan what—” Frances looked around and took a deep breath. “Oh, I…I froze didn’t I?”
“Yeah what…what the fuck was that?”
Frances made sure all her fingers were in one piece. Morgan had bit her rather hard. “It’s nothing.”
Nothing? Frances you haven’t had a panic attack that bad since…well for a long time! Ivy’s Sting stammered.
“Bullshit,” Morgan hissed.
Frances forced herself to breathe, holding onto herself as tightly as she could. She couldn’t let herself shiver. “Look, Morgan, I’m fine. Maybe I’m a bit tired, but I can take care of it.”
“What? You’re lying!”
“I can take care of it. I’ve been taking care of it for years!” Frances clamped a hand to her mouth. She’d growled those words without meaning to, and now Morgan had backed away, her eyes wide.
“Morgan, sorry. I…I got a panic attack. Please, don’t be afraid. I…I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
Morgan nodded. “It’s fine—wait, you get panic attacks too?”
Relieved that her student wasn’t running away, Frances nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t be getting them. I…I thought they were under control.”
“No, it's fine. It just…it was strange seeing you having a panic attack.”
“Yeah it was weird. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, you don’t have go apologize. You didn’t even do anything,” said Morgan.
Frances tried to answer that, but ended up shaking her head.
“Yeah…yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s go home.”
And Morgan, nodded, following Frances silently as they returned to the house.
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Dinner was decidedly awkward. In fact it was so strange that while Morgan was sitting on her bed, reading a book from Frances’s library, Hattie approached her in her bedroom.
“Morgan, what’s going on?” asked the half-troll.
“Um…” Morgan squirmed. “What do you mean?”
“At dinner. You and Frances weren’t acting the same. What happened?” Hattie asked,
Morgan swallowed and after a moment’s thought, said, “Frances had a panic attack. She just…froze.”
Hattie gasped, “What?”
Morgan nodded. “I don’t know why. I just asked why she was doing so much and if she had something to prove?”
Glancing over her shoulder to make sure Frances wasn’t anywhere near Morgan’s room, Hattie sat down on the spare chair. “Wait, slow down, why did you ask that?”
Morgan crossed her feet on her bed. “We were in Respite and I was talking to John and Diana. They were telling me how…how busy Frances is and how much she takes on. I just wanted to know why.”
Hattie didn’t answer, but her wince and eyes that dropped to the covers told a lot.
“You know something?”
“Kind of. It’s…well obviously it’s related to Frances’s abuse. I think part of why she wants to help people is because of what happened to her, though, I don’t know how or exactly why.”
Morgan shook her head. “She can’t be still trying to prove her shitbag parents wrong all this time. Right?” She blinked at Hattie’s pursed lips and at the half-troll’s steepled fingers.
“I think she is, Morgan. She’s not doing it on purpose, but they hurt her and she has been living with the trauma for years.”
“But if she’s been living with it, how did she do all of this?” Morgan demanded, gesturing at the house her teacher furnished. “How the heck did she become the Stormcaller and an honest to Galena dragonslayer?”
Hattie bowed her head, a wry smile flitting across her scarred face. “Morgan, have you considered that maybe it’s that pain that led her to do all of this?”
Suddenly, sitting up a lot straighter, Morgan stared at Hattie. “Oh. Oh fuck. That’s why she can’t stop helping others and why she gets so angry when folk are abused.”
“Precisely.” Hattie bit her lip. “Morgan, there’s something I’d like to ask.”
Morgan suddenly became more aware of Hattie’s slender fingers, which she was lacing together. Once again, she found herself struck by how darned attractive she found the half-troll’s slender shoulders, and lean muscled form. Even now, Morgan couldn’t get over how she seemed so statuesque despite how she now bit her lip.
“Morgan, do you like me?”
Morgan’s eyes widened. Feeling Hattie’s admittedly beautiful dark-blue eyes weighing on her, the harpy-troll swallowed. “Of course! As your friend!”
Hattie leaned forward. As Morgan sat completely still, Hattie took her hand. Her heart pounded so loudly Morgan wondered how the half-troll’s pointy ears weren’t picking it up. “Of course. But Morgan, if you do have feelings for me that go beyond that of a friend, I need to tell you that I’m not ready for them.”
Morgan flinched as her heart skipped a beat. “What?”
Hattie wiped her eyes with her free hand. “I’m not ready, Morgan. I still don’t like who I am. You should choose someone more worthy.”
“Excuse me?” Morgan seized Hattie’s hand with hers, refusing to let go even as the half-troll tried to stand up. “Why aren’t you worthy?”
Hattie shook her head. “Morgan, you’re a princess, I’m a half-blooded commoner!”
“I may be a princess, but you know I’m a foul-mouthed monster. There’s nothing worthy about the both of us!” Morgan stumbled to her feet, not letting go of Hattie’s wrist as they both stood. Strangely enough, Hattie wasn’t letting go. She was holding onto her wrist just as tightly.
Turning her head, Hattie croaked. “Morgan, please, just make it easier for the both of us. Besides, you’re too young. You’re only fourteen.”
That was a stinging remark and Morgan found herself snorting at that. “I’m only a year younger than you, and I’m not asking anything of you.”
Hattie blinked, glancing at Morgan. “You’re not?”
There was a warm, numbing feeling that spread in Morgan’s chest. It made her shiver, and brought tears to her eyes. “You don’t need to do anything. I’m just glad I can feel that I can care for someone. Monsters can’t do that, right?”
Hattie stared at Morgan for a moment, before suddenly stepping in and wrapping her arms around Morgan. At first, the princess trembled at the touch around her shoulders and wings. Then it settled in that those long arms were warm and gentle, and Morgan sighed with relief.
When Hattie let go, Morgan almost reached out, but managed to pull her arm back from the shaking half-troll.
“I—I’m sorry. I just wanted to remind you that you’re not a monster.”
Bowing her head, Morgan wiped her eyes. “That’s okay. I’m sorry for bothering you. I won’t make it weird.”
Hattie frowned. “Won’t make it weird?”
“My crush on you. I won’t make it weird. I’m sorry.” Morgan sat back down on her bed, trying to stem her tears, whilst trying to take in long breaths.
“Why do you like me, though?”
Morgan looked up and found Hattie’s eyes were also filled with tears. She swallowed. “I…I think you’re pretty, smart and kind. You’ve always put up with me and my swearing. Even now you’re trying to make me feel better.”
Averting her gaze, Hattie sniffled. “That was the right thing to do.”
“Which isn’t easy. We both know folk can be shit.” Morgan grabbed the corner of her blanket and buried her face in it. “Sorry, I know you don’t like me that way. I just—I’m sorry.”
Hattie didn’t respond at first. She was so quiet that Morgan sneaked a peak. The half-troll looked stricken. Her features were frozen in a frown. Yet her mouth was apart as if she wanted to say something.
“Hattie?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like you.”
Morgan dropped her blanket, letting it curl on the floor. “Excuse me?”
Hattie took a deep breath and steeled herself “I didn’t say I didn’t like you.”
Morgan’s jaw dropped open. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Hattie wiped her eyes and nodded. “Yeah. I just don’t trust myself.”
“I can wait, I don’t mind!” Morgan stammered, leaping to her feet.
Hattie managed a watery giggle. “You really think I’ll get better?”
Morgan wasn’t sure why, or how, but perhaps that giggle brought just a bit of a smile to her face. “I know you will.”
Hattie wiped her eyes, laughing, and she didn’t care, or resist when Morgan put her hand in hers.