CHAPTER 91 – Ways Ancient and Magical

My Dearest Saphienne,

 

Sat under the maple tree in the upper terrace of the garden, Saphienne smiled through her blush as she read the salutation in the letter from Laelansa. The afternoon was balmy due to the stirring breeze, soothing with the rustle of leaves and the sway of tall grass, clear beneath the rolling clouds that threatened no rain.

 

I’m sorry I didn’t write back sooner! I wrote you a letter during the journey home, but someone spilled their drink over my pack when we were nearly there. Then your first letter arrived before I could compose another one, and I didn’t know how to reply.

You have lovely handwriting.

 

Her smile grew wider as she pictured the awkward girl fretting over her words.

 

Ruddles says I should be honest with you. I was annoyed with you at first. You let me be friendly with those awful girls: I didn’t like that. To learn they were the ones who hurt you makes me furious, because I thought they were nice, and I feel guilty for enjoying our time with them in the teahouse.

But…

I would have felt worse if I’d had to pretend. And your plan was good. I don’t understand all of the reasons why you didn’t tell everyone right away, though I know you must have had good ones.

 

Her cheer faltered as Saphienne reflected on what she hadn’t been able to put in her two letters to Laelansa. The reality was that her reasons had seemed compelling… but she knew now that there had been other, better ways to approach the problem.

She’d given it serious thought, and what she should have done was tell Hyacinth and Celaena her broad plan after that first confrontation in the teahouse: from that point on, all she needed them to do was nothing. An improvement would have been to secure the help of Sundamar and then reach out to Taerelle, or perhaps Nelathiel, and ask to be heard in strictest confidence, trusting that either woman would respect her intentions enough to let her try.

Trust: that was her problem. She’d visited Taerelle on three more occasions over the past five days, and thanks to pointed conversations she’d come to see that the reason she was so deceptive was because – just as Taerelle had said upon becoming her tutor – she needed to have control.

And why did she need control?

Saphienne struggled to trust the people who cared about her.

Who could blame her? Her mother wasn’t dependable, and everyone else she had grown close to… their favour was conditional. There was never anything she could do that would make her mother stop loving her, but her mother was insufficient for motherhood; everyone else only cared to the degree she fitted with who they were. There were sequences of words she could say and actions she could perform that would shatter their care.

Which Taerelle had – despite great inner turmoil – admitted was a warped view. One she happened to share with the junior apprentice, but intellectually the senior recognised that believing friendships and close bonds were too perishable to abide in was self-defeating. She tried to behave as though the world were otherwise.

Hearing that, Saphienne had realised what she’d defied when she’d sought reconciliation with Filaurel. She had rejected what she had been taught by life — what she had observed to be true. What that implied for how she understood truth, she hadn’t yet figured out…

…But until she did, she willed herself to act as though she trusted. Taerelle was doing the same for her. Although she didn’t yet fully believe, she suspected that she would have been assisted by her tutor if she’d presented her plan in motion.

“Of course she would’ve helped,” Saphienne murmured. “Taerelle is helping me.”

She was trying to correct herself whenever she noticed her errors. Thus far, progress was vexingly slow.

 

I knew what had happened before your second letter arrived; the wardens came to speak with me. Don’t worry! They just asked what we’d been doing together for the week, and whether I’d seen anything that suggested who’d attacked Tirisa and the others.

I was honest with them: I hadn’t. I can’t imagine what sort of person would do that. She must be someone who loves you a great deal, and she must be very angry. I can understand that much… but actually planning and doing those things is frightening. Or maybe I’m just scared because I don’t want to consider whether I’m capable of that.

Whoever it was, I hope she stops there.

 

Given that their correspondence was certainly being read by the Wardens of the Wilds, was her girlfriend trying to tell her something? Did Laelansa suspect Saphienne knew who was responsible — or was somehow involved? Laelansa could be oblivious, but she wasn’t without capacity for subterfuge…

 

Anyway. I’m glad the girls who hurt you won’t hurt anyone else, and that they can’t keep pretending they’re good. I did have a bad feeling about Lensa… but I’m not the best at reading people, so I told myself I was being unkind. Maybe I should trust myself when I get bad feelings in future.

I still feel good about you. I miss you.

 

Saphienne had to put the letter down, for the paper was blurry.

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, the remainder that Laelansa recounted was light and easy, and Saphienne found herself giggling at an extensive description of an encounter with a small and persistently friendly forest cat. By the time she was done reading, Saphienne’s chest unexpectedly ached, and she sat for several minutes picturing that first morning she had woken to find her girlfriend cuddling close. She tried to remember the scent of her hair, frowned when it eluded her.

There would be other days together, she promised herself.

In what she intended to become a regular habit, Saphienne went up to Celaena’s study and sat at the large table to immediately draft her reply. She considered what she could share that wouldn’t cause future problems — and then hesitated at that impulse. So long as she wasn’t telling the wardens what they didn’t already know, why hold anything back? Laelansa was so naïve that she had never been anything other than accepting of who Saphienne was.

…Was her girlfriend actually naïve? Or did Saphienne tell herself that because she didn’t respect her for–

“What are you writing?”

Celaena hovered in the doorway, holding the scroll that contained her proving spell.

“Laelansa wrote to me,” Saphienne answered. “I’m trying to respond.”

Conflicted, the older girl settled on a sad smile. “How is she?”

“Good. The wardens questioned her about what she’d seen while she was here.” She almost handed the letter to Celaena, but decided that, for all its contents were innocuous, they were personal. “She misses me. She asked after everyone.”

Celaena moved to her desk and spread out her scroll, studying idly as she spoke. “I’m glad the two of you are happy. It’s a shame she lives in another vale. Do you think she might move here, when she’s older?”

Contemplating her future with Laelansa made Saphienne nervous. “…I don’t know. I’d like to spend more time together. She did say that she doesn’t have many friends in the Vale of the White River, but…”

“You’re worried about lasting? As a couple?”

Acutely aware that Celaena and Laewyn were having difficulties, Saphienne nodded.

“I think you will.” She dragged her gaze from the sigil on her desk. “Apart from her being religious, the two of you have a lot in common. You’re both better together.”

Did Saphienne dare ask? She put her pen down and reached into her pocket, brushing her fingers across the bark that clad her coin purse. “Do you want to talk about Laewyn?”

Celaena opened her mouth to refuse; her brow furrowed. “…I don’t know. Which I suppose means I do, doesn’t it? Otherwise I’d have said no.”

“You miss her?”

Pain and regret enveloped Celaena as she looked away and nodded.

“Have you spoken since–”

“No.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to say. I was doing what I thought was the right thing… and it was the right thing to do. Even if I was wrong in the end.”

An insight came to Saphienne that gave her pause, not because she found it difficult to acknowledge, but rather because she hadn’t any idea what to do with it. Her better judgement told her she had best say nothing — for Celaena had been extremely upset when Saphienne first shared the realisation it rested upon. After, the older girl had been so distraught that she pretended the incident hadn’t occurred; Saphienne had let the matter lie.

“Saphienne… that look.” Celaena settled back against her desk. “You know something, and you’re wondering whether to tell me.”

Celaena was too good at reading her–

No. That view began in her lack of trust. “…I don’t want to upset you again. Not after last time.”

Understanding made Celaena bow her head, and she held herself as she endured the emotions that roiled in her. “Just say it. I’ll get over myself.”

Being invited to tell her in spite of the pain it would cause touched Saphienne, who stood and crossed the floor to settle beside Celaena. “…I’m sorry for before. Are you sure?”

She took a centring breath. “What is it about father that matters here?”

Fearfully, Saphienne clasped her hands behind herself, squeezing her fingers. “I don’t think you wanted to treat Laewyn the way you did. I think you were copying him — and that it wasn’t intentional. I think you put her in that situation because you didn’t know any other way to ask–”

Overwhelmed, Celaena stormed away from the desk…

…Only to stop halfway to the door. She moved from there with great labour, going over to the windowsill and sitting with her face turned to the treetops. The daughter to the master of Fascination stared into the distance.

Even as she quailed inside, Saphienne waited.

“…You were right about his chosen discipline.” As much as she sat nearby, Celaena addressed her confidante from very far away. “I’d been avoiding thinking about it. I remember the shapes of the sigils in his spellbook, when he left it out for me, and the lessons we’ve had lately… they tell me what most of them were.” She ran her fingers up her neck as though coaxing out her voice. “Father loves me… he makes that clear… and he makes clear what he expects.”

The outline of a girl in the window covered her eyes. “Am I fascinated, Saphienne? Is that why I…”

Were it only that simple. “No. You can’t be. We would have seen it with the Second Sight, and even if it were obscured, Hyacinth would have noticed. There’s also direct evidence to the contrary.”

“What evidence?”

Saphienne gingerly approached the window. “…Your father wants you to be a wizard, but you were willing to give up your place for me when Almon fascinated you. Logically, Almon’s fascination wouldn’t be as powerful as your father’s, so…”

Celaena exhaled. “He was trying to get me to break free from the spell. He was demanding what he thought I’d never do.” Hopelessly lost, she entreated Saphienne with a bereft plea. “Why didn’t I? Please tell me.”

“I don’t know.” Not for sure. “But you did the opposite of what your father wanted, so whatever you’re afraid of isn’t explained by magic.”

The blue in her eyes glittered. “I don’t know why I’m so scared. He’s given me so much; he hasn’t said anything about his intervention. He really does want me to succeed…”

If she were Laelansa, Saphienne would have prayed. “…At being like him.”

“Of course, who wouldn’t want–”

“Do you?”

And Celaena was speechless.

Saphienne backed away, gave her room to feel.

Eventually, the child of the wizard wiped her eyes and peered over the drop that lay outside her window. “That’s what scares me. I’m not afraid of being like father… my father…” She shivered despite the summer heat. “I’ve just never really believed that’s a question I can ask. I’m scared to answer it. What if I…”

Thinking about Filaurel, and the ambiguity in how she and the librarian related to each other, Saphienne swallowed. “It’s not all or nothing.”

“…I don’t know how to begin to try…”

“Do you like how you treated Laewyn?”

Her flush was instant, her tears silent. “…No.”

“Then there’s one way you’re not like your father.” Saphienne gave her what she hoped was a smile of encouragement and levity. “Which is good, because given what I know about your mother? He’s not the best with relationships.”

Not even Celaena could tell whether her choked gasps were crying or laughter.

 

* * *

 

My Maple-blooded Laelansa,

 

This is my third attempt to write back to you. I’ve burned the first two drafts, since they didn’t say any of the things I want to say to you. I’m very bad at being honest about myself with people — especially when they’re people whose opinion I care about. As best I can, I’m trying to overcome that tendency.

I was excited and relieved to read your letter. I hadn’t realised that I was worried about how you would feel. I’m sorry for not telling you what was going on… I’m even worse at trusting people than I am at being honest. I wish I’d trusted you to help me.

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My trust would not have been misplaced. Although we’ve only known each other a short time, I can tell that you’re very genuine, that you worry about being a good person, and that you inexplicably hold me in high regard. Except that I know it’s not inexplicable: I say things like that to myself because respecting how you feel about me means acknowledging that I am worth

Liking. Let’s say liking, for now.

Until now, I’ve been telling myself you’re naïve for wanting me. I’ve justified that to myself by saying your feelings are the same as your faith, which was dismissive of me, and wrong. I may not be as religious as you are, but I can see what you make of your belief in the gods, and I think it is superior to how many people, including people like myself, choose to live their lives.

I don’t like the word ‘kind.’ Too often, I’ve heard it used to excuse things that should never be excused. But there is a real meaning behind that word, and you try to live it in a way that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to equal. You are gentle, and patient, and you try to see the best in people who probably don’t deserve it. Not that you would care what people deserve…

You are not naïve. I am prickly, and you? You are lovely.

You are also fun to be with. I miss your company. I miss you.

You will remember Taerelle. We’ve become closer recently. I’ve been talking to her about the things that I find hard, like honesty, and trust. She and I are similar, but she has the advantage of experience. I’m trying to make myself hope that there are better ways for me to be, and she is helping me believe that I can find them.

I think one of those ways is how I could be with you. And so this letter, which I pray you will receive the way I mean it.

Reading about the kitten made me laugh. There is a cat in the Eastern Vale named Peluda who I think you would like. She is friends with someone whom I want to introduce you to when you next visit, which I hope is sooner than either of us anticipates.

Everyone is largely the same as usual, and I will pass on that you asked after them. Celaena wishes you well, and I’m certain the others do, too.

I have more to say, but this has been challenging, and I have things I’m supposed to be doing today. Celaena and Laewyn have been a little distant from each other recently, and Celaena has asked me to walk her down to the bakery before Laewyn finishes. I don’t know what she’s going to say, but I hope Laewyn hears her. Then I’m going to the shrine to Our Lord of the Endless Hunt to meet Nelathiel — which is going to be an interesting conversation, because I don’t quite know what she wants with me.

I will write again, soon.

 

Kind Regards? Best Wishes? Be Well?