Chapter Text
Her knuckles tap on the door 3 times and she stiffens up a bit, fixing her posture to be straight yet casual. Ok, she might be overthinking this. But who cares, certainly not her. Preposterous to believe that.
Then she hears the door creek.
Ilessia looks tired when she opens the door, hair disheveled, pajamas wrinkled, overall, not her usual pristine to say the least. “If it's an advertisement I assure you I couldn't care less-” She looks towards the floor before up at her, and when her gaze pins Avery still for a second, her sentence cuts off, eyes holding genuine bewilderment. Her mouth remains slightly agape and she just looks at her, brows molded into position by confusion.
“What? Why are you here?”
Avery's holding back all the apologies in the world back in her throat. She's a bit emotional, huh? “Can we talk? I’ve been quite cowardly lately.” Avery practically whispers.
Ilessia still stands there for a bit, looking at her. Behind her, Avery hears her dog bark and run up to the door. It pounces on her, making her stumble a bit and laugh, as Ilessia tries to make herself seem pissed that Avery would dare come here. It doesn't work, as per usual, so she just smiles as her friend obsesses over her dog.
Avery looks up at Ilessia and asks once more, standing up while the dog stays at her side. “So can I come in or do I see myself out?”
“Sure. Calico come inside.” Ilessia attempts to go back to serious and gets her dog back in, inviting Avery in as well.
Both of the girls sit on sofas, facing each other to talk properly. They sit there a bit til Avery starts. “...I’m sorry for leaving.”
“Mm. Came crawling back later than I expected. You've got guts.” Ilessia scowls, flipping her hair at her and turning away.
“What?”
“You left us. Went off because you didn’t need us anymore.” She scoffs out, her scowl deepening. Meanwhile the other girl doesn't have a clue as to what she's talking about.
“I didn't leave on purpose. Well, not necessarily? It's weird ok, let me explain,” Avery tries to reason.
“Let you explain? It’s pretty plain to me, but whatever, go on.” Ilessia lets her continue.
“So, remember when I came back from being basically kidnapped? And Elijah was acting really weird? Yeah when he told me to talk with him outside, he called me out on a detail I skipped from the story. Basically, I said I got caught, but I didn't say how.” The girl opposite to her nods, intrigued, but trying to keep up her tough guy act while petting the dog beside her. She hasn't seen her this serious in a while.
“So…I was running around with my map, doing what I was supposed to be doing, and I came across the queen's room by pure accident, not knowing what the door that led to that room led to in the first place, if that makes sense. And, when I walked in, I saw her there after looking around a bit. She was combing her hair even though there were no knots in it. Her hair looks soft. She was looking in the mirror like it was less than her, which it probably is. She looked pretty nice to be honest, but moving on. Thankfully she didn't notice me, but then, out of nowhere an arrow came. through. the. window.” She emphasizes, reliving the shock she had in the moment. Ilessia's eyes go wide, and she straightens with a look of bewilderment.
“An arrow?”
“An arrow.”
“You're kidding.”
“Wish I was. But continuing, something clicked together in my brain to activate my muscles without my consent or something, because, somehow, some way, I shot the arrow down with my own.”
To say Ilessia was surprised by that statement, was a bit of an understatement.
“Wha- I- how? Excuse me, you can do that?”
“I’m just as baffled as you are, if not more, trust me.”
“You're not human.”
“Im an angel.”
They pause for a bit, looking at each other, and both break out in laughter.
“‘Cause we're just so coolll-”
“All you dude.”
“Whatever, I need to stop getting sidetracked!” Avery cuts off with a smile, trying not to stall the conversation more than needed. “So, the rest of the story happened and Elijah was just berating me about 'why'd you stop it?’ And I was like ‘Well I don’t want to kill her!’ And we just went back and forth with that until I said I didn't want to be a rebel and he told me he didn't want to talk to me anymore and that I was dead to him and I'm pretty sure he lied to you and told you guys I hated you and abandoned you."
The mood dies down a bit after she uncovered what remained unsolved. Ilessia looks confused, and the slightest bit troubled.
“...why the hell? Is he joking? He literally broke into your house and left you a note. Speaking of, what was that?”
“Yeah, it freaked me out to say the least.”
They sit in silence for a bit, the clock ticking wasted time away. It fills the room with small clicks of sound, making the quiet more deafening than ever. Avery sits with her hands in her lap, biting a hole through her lips, anxiously looking at the clock, while Ilessia sits much less tense, staring at the floor.
“We are friends again… right..?” she asks, quite pathetic with hope in her voice, completely differing from her usual carefree attitude. She looks up at the former rebel, eyes whispering pleas that she's too egotistical to admit.
“Well I came here to ask that, I’d hope so.” The other girl says, filled with relief and trying to feign indifference, although the girl in front of her knows for a fact she cares. That's her problem, after all.
Ilessia gets up from where she sat and pulls Avery up into a hug. It isn’t long before it's reciprocated, and the two are united once more, more officially now. They stayed like that for a bit, until she remembered her newfound duties. She lets go and looks at her, smirking awkwardly.
“So, I got a job at the castleee-”
“To see your girlfriend?” Ilessia interrupts
Avery sputters, eyes widening, losing her sentence and feeling embarrassment crawl onto her features. “Wha- what! She- she isnt- its not- no! Just- no… that's insane!” she drags her hand down her face and stutters out.
“Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that. It seems like she's your wife with how you describe her. ‘Oh man, she's sooo pretty’” The rebel teases. Which, she simply doesn't understand why she is. There's no reason for it, or to be embarrassed. She drags her hand down her face.
“I’m going to head out, see you later.”
“See you, lover girl!”
“Where did this come from-! Oh whatever, see you.”
Avery speeds out the door and uses more force than necessary to shut it. She hesitates for a bit, standing at the front of the door, feeling proud and conflicted at the same time.
The conversation went well, she isn't worried about that, the topic that just came up however? That's a different story. Why did she act like that? There wasn't a reason to be embarrassed, it wasn't true, it didn't have meaning. The queen, her girlfriend? No chance. The only thing she sees semi-romantically nice about her is how she acted at the interview, and that was fake. At least she thinks so? She brushes it off and goes to where she needs to.
_____________________________________
The front of the castle stands in front of her, ominous and clean as ever, just how she remembered it. She takes a deep breath in and out. It's now or never. It's changed for the better. She softly chuckles to herself for the rhyming scheme.
Her boots softly crunch against the gravel path, shutting protruding thoughts up pleasantly enough, until she makes it to the opening. She shows the letter to the guards, they approve it, and one of them escorts her to the tour guide.
She stops at the back of the crowd, trying to peek over and see and she hears the guard walk away as soon as the leader is in her sight.
Her heart nearly stops as beside them, she sees a pair of familiar black eyes glancing over to her. The pale beauty simpers when she catches her gaze and goes back to talking to what Avery assumes is the guide. Immediately, she turns her attention to the floor. No need to make a bad impression with a look. The sound of someone clearing their throat fills the room.
“Alright everyone, the tour will now commence. We appreciate you for applying to help our community and empire as a whole. Let us begin with the cafeteria.” Comes from the front, said with an assertive voice and a hearty tone. Murmurs between each other can be heard from the crowd as they start to move along, and some come from beside her.
“Genuinely, how did we get this position?”
“Beats me, we're just great like that.”
“Oh yeah we are. Wait, hold up, isn't that the one girl we saw in line?”
“You're right, it is. Hey.” Scotty greets noticing her presence. Avery does recognize them. It's the height difference duet, as she's dubbed them in her head.
“Hey Scotty, hi Fiona,” Avery says, smiling kindly, glad to see they made it. “Are you guys ready for the tour?”
“Ready as I'll ever be.” Scotty huffs along with a laugh.
“Get a move on folks!” Urges the guide, and the people in front of them pick up their speed.
“Stay together?” Avery offers.
“Yup!” Fiona agrees for both of them, and they walk over to catch up with the crowd.
Weirdly enough, she catches a waft of smoke coming from the door behind them, but she shrugs it off and follows her new coworkers.
The tour goes quite uneventfully, nothing Avery hasn't seen before. However, she learned where she could and couldn't go, which is smart if she wants to keep her job. She also learned things about Fiona and Scotty between descriptions. For instance, she learned that they recently became friends after bumping into each other while both training for the same goal. She also learned that Fiona is scared of bugs, will cry if she sees them, and Scotty has 2 brothers who are actually florists.
The tour gets to the guard’s living quarters. The maids one was previously viewed, and occupants were allowed to pick their residence, despite all the rooms being the same. For maids, living in the castle was optional, as they just keep the place tidy. Now Avery isn't sure if the rules changed for the guards as well.
“Now our rooms for guards are plentiful! Not many choose to live here, so it won't be bustling. If you choose to live in your own residence, keep a close eye on the schedule we give you for the week! It isn't polite to be late or not show up without notice.” The guide explains. “So, if you're staying in your own residence, the tour has ended and your schedules will be sent through mail in a week! If you choose to live here, pick a dorm without a name! We appreciate you all.”
Well, that's easy enough, guess she’ll go home now-
“Was there a fire?” She hears someone shout.
The crowd gasps in shock, and people flock to the window. Fiona and Scotty look back from where they chose their dorms, and drag Avery to follow them. Elbowing her way through the crowd, losing her friends in the process, she makes it to a position she can decently see from, and sure as a truth, there had to be a fire. A row of what used to be houses remain charred bases and ash.
Including her house. Where she left the gifts she's been given, mementos of old people and places, and the picture frames. Her face drops, and she feels the hand of her soul clutch her heart. She continues to look down pathetically in a state of shock. Her waterline fills, but she holds back the dams and clutches the windowsill.
“Are you alright, was that your house?” A sweet voice says next to her. It has a chilling yet soothing effect, and when she turns to see who it belongs to, it's none other than the queen herself. A look of concern, similar to the one from the night of the break in is painted on her features, rivaling her with an angel instead of the goddess persona she normally gives off.
“I-yeah I’m… alright.” She says without any conviction whatsoever, and leans against the windowsill. Her head leans down and she’ll be damned if she shows any vulnerability. A hand falls on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I truly am. Was there something important to you in there, besides it being your house of course?” The taller of the two nods, and a couple of seconds pass, filled by a silence between the two and the murmurs of the crowd. “Oh man, I’m sorry… I swear we'll find who did this if anyone did, because it doesn't seem natural in the slightest. You're a guard right? If you need a place to live, there's plenty here.” Her majesty says, practically leaning on Avery. She ignores what the proximity does to fuel her thoughts and looks towards her to see a solemn smile of someone wanting to help.
Wasn't this the girl she was meant to hate -even if she never really did-? A part of the people who ruined her? How could she look at her so kindly, without the malice she was meant to have? With such hospitality? Apparently, she needs to rewrite her character in her head. Yes it might just be normal to comfort a stranger after their house burned down but it feels genuine. Like she actually cares about her. And if that helps her soul, who would notice?...okay she might be getting manipulated, she needs to be weary.
“I…would appreciate that, thank you my liege.”
“Don't call me that.”
“Oh- uh-“ she sniffles a bit, “Your majesty?”
“Not my style.”
“Uhm…my queen?”
“No,” she chuckles, “just Valerie's fine, I prefer that.”
Avery looks up at the queen -Valerie- and is a bit shocked by the lack of professionalism.
“Valerie.” She finally lands on. The name rolls smoothly off her tongue, present, and allowed. The woman whom that name belongs to gives a grin to her, pleased that she's said it, and it's quickly returned. Some color comes to her pale complexion, and she'd be lying if she said her face wasn't the same.
“Well, I guess I have to take up your offer Valerie, thank you.” Avery thanks and walks away, and when she's almost out of earshot, she hears a giggle from who she was just talking to. An unexpected smile crawls onto her face along with a flush of color as she picks a door next to her new colleagues.
They comfort her about her house, but while she still feels hopeless, she's not on the verge of tears anymore, which is helpful. She feels good somehow. They still try to, which is appreciated.
Eventually the three get restless in the hall, and decide to see their rooms. Avery knows they're all replicas, but it's thrilling all the same. What she's surprised about is the increase in quality.
As soon as she opens the door to her room, she notices plenty of new privileges. One bed, plenty of space, a weapon stand, a comfy looking bed, a rug and privacy. No more roomies it seems. Isn't the dump it used to be, thankfully, since it's where she has to live from now on. The 2 girls behind her are equally as impressed, glad they don’t have to sleep on the floor or something.
When they walk in, she notices a desk that she couldn't see from the doorway. Wooden, and surprisingly sturdy. Another thing she notices is a mirror on the closet door. Nice add on.
They decide to sit on the bed and chat for a bit. Conversation flows, filling the room, and Avery tries to contribute, but then again she isn't feeling her best. This room again. The castle again. Being hidden, losing what she had left of her parents-
Nope. No more of that. She isn't a kid anymore. Its fine, she'll be fine-
“Hey did you guys hear that?” Fiona questions. A click of metal comes from the outside of her door. “That! I’m not insane, I swear.”
“I’ll check it out.” Avery offers, thankful for the distraction, getting up from where she was sitting and walking over to the door. She cracks it open the slightest bit, and sees what seems to be a mailman down 3 doors from hers. Man, they work quickly. She opens her door fully, and looks on the other side of it. Her name is written on the paper in the name plate, and when she looks beside her, she sees a tiny metal box also bearing her name. She opens the lid, and finds that it's a mail box.
“Guys, we got mail.” She calls out to the others, and pulls the paper out of the box. She unfolds it to find a message from another employee. It reads:
Report to the training yard tomorrow at an hour minus noon, unless you have a serious injury you have informed a staff member of.
Well at least she knows what to do tomorrow. Her shoulder’s healed enough, she hopes. She doesn't really care, she’s doing it either way. Speaking of tomorrow, it looks like it'll come soon judging by the sky.
“It's just the schedule, mad early too,” Avery says, walking inside her dorm and handing the paper to her guests. “We're officially slaves.”
“Just like the old days.”
“Scotty, I don't think you can say that. Anywho, I think I’m gonna go to sleep. Night guys!” Fiona states, getting up to walk out the room.
“Alright, back to guard training again, bye Avery.” Scotty bade farewell, and followed her friend along, leaving the formal rebel alone in a room so distinct yet familiar. Eventually, she goes out of her own room too.
Her steps get muffled by the carpet as she walks to the exit. The light that the night hadn't swallowed peeks through the windows, glistening a white path for her to follow. Stars can be seen plentiful, many house lights being off due to the ungodly hour, allowing them to be seen. They poke holes through the void of the night sky, seeming out of a painting worth stopping to admire. She turns her head from the window to the floor, following the fibers with her eyes as she keeps walking.
She makes it to the castle’s gate, and the guards permit her to go through as well as some others, and she walks the gravel path. The place she makes it to, where her home should be, is deafeningly quiet, and heart wrenchingly empty.
Ash dances over the locality in its unique way of grieving what it used to be before vaporized by the heat. She coughs into her sleeve a couple times, causing some of it to rise up. Then, she goes to the plot meant to be hers.
The scrunch of the ground comes to a halt as she does the same, stopping to stare. It's empty. Burned to a crisp. Seems no one could stop the fire. The dust around seems to get in her eyes as they now burn. She takes a couple steps closer, to see what remains, if anything even did. Its pitch black, mostly except for a couple small pieces of blessed brown. She walks to where her bedroom used to be.
Once there she crouches down to try and salvage anything. The more she does it, the more she feels the hope draining from her fingers. She probably looks insane digging through the rubble, but she doesn't care.
Her hands keep feeling around, ash stinging her eyes, but she finally feels something, a slash from a shard of glass. She feels a drop of blood run down the tip of her finger, but she couldn’t care less. She pushes away dust and pieces of brick to reveal a broken picture frame, hidden from the fire. Two actually. She sighs in relief and gratitude, pulling the pictures close to her chest, not caring about the broken glass. However, she does care to move her cloak out of harm's way. Besides the obvious damage to the glass, they’re intact, somehow. A smile crawls its way up her features.
Her heart warms, and tension releases from her body as she gets up, still clutching the photos for dear life. She may not have anything to her name besides a satchel and a bow, but she still has her identity, and that's enough for her.
_____________________________________
She shuts the door to her dorm, slowly, not to wake any light sleepers on accident. She clicks the lock shut and looks around for any cameras, just in case; Thankfully there aren’t. She stands in front of the mirror, and unties the bow to her cloak. Her hands are dry and aching, as well as her shoulder, which, at this point, when is it not?
Slowly, not to irritate the irritated, she pulls off her gray-stained clothes that definitely have to go in the wash, because as soon as she flaps it around, it looks like a smoke bomb was dropped. She’s going to be coughing for weeks.
Once down to her under garments, she remembers, she doesn’t actually have a spare change of clothes, because, well, house fire. She scowls as she leans her head on the closet.
Oh wait, a closet! The most that’ll probably be there is her uniform, but hey, something's better than nothing.
She pulls the door open by its handle, and low and behold, there is her uniform, accompanied by, very surprisingly, a pair of pajamas. Is today her luckiest or worst of her life, because she's getting mixed signals. But really, the castle improved their employee budget by a lot. No wonder people come here, this is where the tax dollars are going. Well, she's not going to question it any longer, because apparently she's on a tight rope with some imaginary being, and if they’re mad, quick she goes! She pulls the purple and white striped set on and rolls her shoulders. Once again, there’s really a set color pallet here. Someone’s bound to get sick of it at this point.
She stretches her abrasive muscles, including the vexing one on her shoulder -much to her dismay- and slowly climbs into her bed. She already took a shower in the powder room, even though it was the dead of night, and brushed her teeth with supplied utilities, so sleep is the only thing left for today.
It’s surprisingly soft, the mattress , unlike the old ones. Man this place has upgraded. She shimmy’s into the sheets and stares at the ceiling. One thing hasn’t changed, and it’s the feeling, and the nerves this place gives her. So painfully familiar.
her chest pulls in on itself, and her breathing picks up the slightest bit. Suddenly, she's 12 again, sniffling in the dead of night, kicking herself up and down, scared for her parents. She bites down on her lip hard enough to draw blood and pulls the blanket over her head pathetically. Her nails dig into the sheets, and she aggressively shuts her eyes, in a futile attempt to block out her memories. She's pitiful.
Eventually, she falls into the cradle of sleep. Thankfully. And her dreams, normally empty and black, are accompanied by her, little her. She holds her tightly in her arms, whispering sweet assurances, knowing it won't do anything. There's no way this was her. But in the same way, she's still holding her, and sees the resemblance,
she's still a child, just taller.
Still lonely, still scared, still weak. She feels the girl in her arms shake more violently, and she runs her fingers through her hair, best she can. It's tangled, matted, and dirty from what she can see.
She was on the street after all. She leans her chin on her head.
The sound around her is muffled, she’s well aware this is a dream, but still, she continues. She can't feel, not fully, only assuming what's happening. All of her senses are dulled including her sight, as if she’s living through the memory. Matter of fact, her hands are practically phasing through her.
Until she hears something, for real this time. She forgot the girl couldn’t feel her, and it isn’t just a nothing dream. As the background fades in, and her thirteen year old self remains curled in on herself, she feels like a ghost, the reader in a story.
footsteps come towards her -not her, at least not anymore- and a boy stands in front of the ball of grief.
”Miss? Miss are you… alright..?” He asks politely, stopping in front of her. His voice sounds oddly blurred, but still, she doesn’t step away from herself.
This is getting really confusing. little her keeps her head on her knees, balled up. The boy crouches down, and the fog is cleared from the scene. This really is a memory. He puts his hand on her shoulder.
”Are you alright, miss?” He repeats, and though she felt miserable at the time, little Avery weakly picks her head up. The real one finally steps away from the little girl to properly see what she looks like, and it almost brings tears to the eyes that can’t drop any. Her eyes are red and puffy, tears not yet dried, and she looks like skin and bones. Then she tries to speak.
”I- cough- I’m… go away..” Her voice is scratchy and she’s audibly dehydrated, but most of all, the pain is poignant as ever. The boy can hear it too, as his face dims and he pulls something from a satchel far too big for him. He pulls out water and offers it to her.
She raises her hand, takes it, and the weight makes her arm droop. She probably hasn't moved in days. Well, not probably, she knows this.
He’s kind enough to help her hold it to her mouth so she could drink. After taking a few sips, she wipes the dry tears and dirt off her face, having to scrub a bit to get it off, yet she still doesn't seem composed.
“Feel a little better?” The blonde says, and the brunette uses up all of her effort to nod her head slightly. “Well that's an improvement. If you don't mind me asking, what happened?”
“...My parents,” she takes a shaky breath, “they're- they- died… executed.. they're gone.” She finally chokes out, and puts her head down again.
“Oh, another castle baby. I’m sorry that happened to you,” the boy gets up to sit next to her, “us.” He lightly pats her on the back. She looks up at him.
“...us?”
“Mhm.” His eyes start to water as well. “Well we have to avenge them, right?”
“I’d rather die here.” She remarks, and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Well, if I said I had a plan, would you get up?” He attempts. She looks at him, obviously confused, and still upset. It's silent between the two for a bit. He sighs out into the open air.
“Worth a shot.” He gets up, and slowly starts to shamble away. After a little bit, with the cogs in her head turning, she tries to go after him. Avery watches as her little self struggles to get up in the first place, having not moved in two days, or done anything in that time. Then the boy pauses, takes in her pathetic attempt, goes back to her, takes her arm, and suddenly yanks her up. They both stumble a bit, but regain themselves.
“My name’s Elijah, if you were wondering.”
“Oh... nice to meet you Eli. I'm-I’m Avery.”
“Nice to meet you Ave, now come on, I’ve got a place we could go!”
“Wait a minute..!” She shakily follows after him with his hand in hers, and they run off into the distance, leaving the older Avery alone.
She smiles and shuts her eyes.