Chapter Text
*
[Memorial Hall, Graduation Day, it’s showtime folks]
Sarah gripped the edge of the padded bench, gazing up at one of the many portraits reflecting her likeness in this Goddessforsaken place. The years listed against each piece ranged and, while the subject’s age never fluctuated more than five years, there was a growing coldness in her features. Even in this one, The Second Mexican War, 1813. Sarah estimated she had lived two average lifetimes’ worth. She grimaced as guilt over the biddy programme swelled in her gut. Their voices often whistled through her mind at random, inducing a sharp frustration when she couldn’t always remember the names to which they belonged.
“General,” President Wade announced her arrival, sitting down next to her. Sarah closed her eyes briefly, attempting to stem the rising tide of emotion bubbling inside of her. “I was surprised to receive your call,” Wade continued to fill the silence, raising an eyebrow.
Sarah exhaled slowly and forcefully through her nose, rolling her head towards Wade to acknowledge her presence. “I appreciate your attendance at such short notice,” she advised shortly, her eyes drifting back to her ‘younger’ self. The harsh-looking bolts that fixed it to the wall mocked her.
The irony.
“You seemed insistent it could not wait,” Wade reminded her, impatience seeping into her tone at being summoned by the General.
Indeed,” Sarah reached an uncharacteristically shaky hand inside her jacket, extracting a formal-looking letter with an old-school army wax seal. She placed it on the bench and slid it slowly towards her company. “Do you know,” Sarah indicated towards the portrait with her index finger, “how much I hate this painting?”
Wade eyed the letter warily before joining Sarah in her scrutiny and stating matter-of-fact, “I think it is a striking piece, marking an exceptional historic victory for both you and the country.”
Sarah sighed, shaking her head, “it is the last time I considered standing down as General. I spent my later years hating that moment of weakness, vowing to give everything to the army.” Sarah stood slowly, approaching the image and tracing the frame’s edge with her fingertips. “I went on to give more than I had to give, and I lost beyond everything in the process.” She turned to face the President, an exhaustion in her eyes. “My weakness was staying, I see that now.”
“General?” Wade rose, picking up the letter.
“You have my resignation, effective immediately,” Sarah nodded, tears emerging from the void between her eyes and their sockets. She moved past a speechless Wade, pausing at the door, “I want no fuss, we both know this to be long overdue.” With that, Sarah exited Memorial Hall for the last time, that particular portrait bursting into flames as she went.
*
“Guys, I can’t believe this is actually happening!” Tally bounced up and down, jingling the various medals on her chest, most of which she had earned fighting the war against the Camarilla.
“Us living long enough to graduate?” Raelle smirked, “wasn’t for lack of trying.”
Abigail laughed darkly, continuing to flick through her speech prompt cards, “didn’t we technically die once, Shitbird? Well, you a few times.”
Raelle raised her eyes to the ceiling, tongue protruding as she began counting her multiple deaths on her fingers.
“Not one to be outdone, is she?” Scylla leaned against the doorframe, considering Raelle fondly. “You all look great,” she smiled earnestly around the room.
Tally jumped at Scylla like a possessed koala, the Ramshorn tree just about managing to stay upright as the room erupted in laughter. Scylla had been like a big sister to Tally on the run, not to mention a rock, no, a boulder for Raelle.
“It’s good to hear you all laughing,” Khalida ducked under Tally’s flailing limbs, plonking herself on Abigail’s bed. “Adil’s been cornered by your mother, I suspect they’re finalising the details of your dowry,” Khalida blinked at Abigail innocently.
More laughter drowned out Abigail’s responding huff. “You know,” Abigail landed on the bed and prodded Khalida playfully in the side, making her crumple in defence, “I think I preferred you when you were the wise and silent type.”
“Just think, you guys,” Tally’s eyes were wide, “Petra is sure to sell Abigail at auction soon, that’ll be a good excuse to get the gang back together!” Tally couldn’t contain her giggle.
Abigail rose and pulled Tally roughly to the centre of the room, easily positioning the giddy redhead into a playful headlock. The scuffle continued until Anacostia coughed loudly at the doorway behind Scylla. Abigail froze while Tally seized the opportunity to take her sister out at the knees and bring them both crashing down to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
“It’s good to know some things don’t change,” Anacostia commented, folding her arms but unable to mask her amusement.
“We actually have some news for all of you,” Raelle helped Abigail and Tally to their feet, “a reason to get the gang back together sometime very soon.” She motioned to Scylla who slipped into a familiar position at her hip. They each fumbled with a necklace, extracting it to reveal the glint of white gold rings. “Guys, Scylla & I are-”
“OH MY GODDESS,” Tally screamed as she rugby tackled Raelle onto her bed, smothering her with peck-style kisses.
The rest of the room clapped and applauded the engaged couple while Raelle battled Tally off of her, reeling out a list of swear words as the redhead continued to overpower her and wreck her braids.
*
The dark clouds parted suddenly, revealing cerulean blue skies. The sun beat down on the graduation guests and army representatives. The sudden meteorological shift was echoed in the crowd by murmurs of approval. Some returned to their vehicles to discard umbrellas and additional layers while others took their seats in readiness.
Nicte glanced up at the dark clouds as they receded to nowhere in particular. Not your average weather.
Sarah… where are you?
No answer, still. Nicte kicked the leg of one of the perfectly positioned fancy chairs. She hated it when Sarah shut her out like this. She glanced around, hoping her outburst had been missed. She was unlucky.
“Nic,” Edwin Collar approached, chuckling at the offending chair, “whatever did this particular inanimate object do to you?”
Nicte smirked before her full smile, teeth and all, burst through. “Edwin,” she opened her arms, the two embracing with an ease that made several officers in the vicinity do a double take.
Nicte had landed begrudgingly on Edwin’s doorstep in the aftermath of her pardon. The public response had been less than positive, and driven her underground for a time. Scylla had begged Nicte not to fully retreat from the world, Tally having suggested the Collar household as a compromise. Nicte had never had a father, never thought she needed one either. Then she met Edwin. She spent two months in the Cession, waiting for the worst to blow over.
Sarah had written often back then, before they got together. They’d confided so much in one another through those letters. Nicte felt a twinge of guilt given her annoyance with Sarah today. She would always come to her when she was ready.
“Care to sit with me?” Edwin smiled, straightening the chair for Nicte and bringing her out of her head.
Nicte accepted, relaxing a healthy fraction. Movement on the stage caught the attention of stragglers, so began to file into the spare seats. Nicte smiled as she caught Adil’s panic over the shoulder of the almighty herself, Petra Bellweather.
Poor boy.
That’s when Nicte saw her. She couldn’t believe she had come. “Edwin, excuse me a moment,” she moved away, choosing not to dwell on how better her manners were around Mr Collar.
She approached her target with caution, having only ever seen her from inside Tally’s head. Nicte wondered if Tally knew she was here today. She definitely looked uncomfortable, in fact she stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd because of it.
“Ms Craven,” Nicte started, keeping a generous distance should the infamous woman sprout tentacles. May turned and looked Nicte up and down, her mouth tightening with disapproval. “Ms Craven, I’m Sergeant Ba-... one of Tally’s teachers,” Nicte rerouted. “It’s a pleasure to meet the mother of such a… talented witch,” she fidgeted.
Smooth Batan, smooth.
“Mmmhmm,” May murmured, turning her back and taking her seat. Nicte baulked at the abrupt end to the conversation.
And people say I’m socially inept.
Nicte returned to Edwin, just in time to catch the Bellweather Unit emerging onto the lawn. Tally was positively glowing. She held hands with both of her sisters, swinging them backwards and forwards as she practically floated in their direction. Nicte watched as Tally clocked her mother’s presence in the crowd. She faltered, her smile slipping for just a moment.
Scylla’s ass appeared, blocking Nicte’s view as she shuffled past to take a seat on the other side of Edwin.
“Well, if it isn’t my future daughter-in-law,” Edwin kissed Scylla on the cheek.
Nicte leaned forwards, fixing Scylla with an inquisitive eyebrow. Scylla grinned and winked before turning her focus to the back of her fiancées head at the front of the assembly. Nicte chuckled under her breath as she set her back against the seat once more. Raelle and Nicte were far from besties, but there was a respect there and a common ground with regards to their fondness for Scylla. Nicte knew they would look after one another, their news brought her warmth and, if she were entirely honest, a twinge of jealousy.
The ceremony proceeded without incident for the most part. Abigail Bellweather gave a speech that prompted tears and laughter. The privates collected their graduation medals one by one. Nicte rose a half-foot from her chair as Tally’s name was called, sinking back down and reducing her clapping in line with the crowd as she drew Scylla’s bemused stare.
Any awkwardness was soaked up by Alder’s arrival on stage. Silence fell. The crowd started muttering as the General lingered for an extended period at the podium. Nicte acknowledged her shoulders were stripe-free. More noticeable, however, was how Sarah clung to that structure as if it were the only thing holding her up. Her expression was distracted, her eyes glistening.
You’ve got this, Sare.
Sarah’s eyes found Nicte and she smiled, absorbing the support. She dragged that smile across the cadets before her and straightened, regaining some of that general aura.
“Never before has a class of such decorated privates graduated war college at Fort Salem,” Sarah paused, her natural form regaining strength, “or anywhere, I suspect. You drove our ancient enemy back to the depths of weakness from which it was borne, broke bread with our Spree sisters and restored peace between our kind and the civilians of this world.”
The some-thirty privates stamped their feet in acceptance of the praise. The number today was half it should have graduated, the exact amount of empty chairs set on the other side of the aisle to recognise their lost sisters.
Sarah’s gaze rested on those empty chairs as the stamping died out. “It is your strength that gives me strength,” her eyes returned to the living. “Never before have I had such an optimistic vision for the future of our army,” she looked up solely at Nicte, “a vision which does not involve me.” Even though everyone was already silent, at that moment things grew quieter still. “I thank you for this great gift, soldiers,” she smiled genuinely, “allowing me to stand down as General.”
Gasps ricocheted throughout the assembly. Sarah openly laughed, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She immediately looked as if the weight of a thousand souls had lifted from her shoulders. Nicte could have sworn ten years had floated away from her features. She fully rose from her chair this time, bringing her hands together in a slow clap. The rest of the attendees followed suit, the privates stamping and cheering.
Sarah Alder was finally free.
*
The sound of the crowd before her was diluted, distant and distorted all at once. Sarah couldn’t help but smile more openly than in what felt like forever. The summer breeze wooshed back and forth past her teeth as she laughed without a care. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this untethered, unburdened and light in, well centuries.
How did I not do this sooner?
Sarah scanned the crowd, wanting to log every detail of this moment for replay in the future. That was until she landed on Tally, one of the few still seated and not making eye contact. She looked defeated; her usual aura of joy diminished entirely. Sarah’s heart tugged painfully, realisation creeping in.
I should have told her beforehand.
As the ceremony closed, Sarah descended the stage steps, plotting a route towards Tally. Her path was interrupted by Izadora, Verger, Anacostia and some of the other officers.
“When did you decide this?” Verger dived in first.
“Is that why Wade is here? Oh, I would have loved to have seen the look on her face,” Izadora smirked.
“I’m so happy for you,” Anacostia mumbled, holding back a dam of joyful tears.
Again Sarah had disentangled herself from the crowd and their questions, Tally was occupied in what looked like a stern conversation with May Craven. Sarah’s lip curled as she assessed Tally’s rigid stance. Sarah forced a mental override on her first instinct to intervene, electing to locate Nicte instead.
She caught sight of her partner leaning casually against a tall table, two glasses of champagne at the ready next to her. Even Nicte looked more at ease than Sarah had seen her in a long time, it was written all over her expressions and embodied by her stance. Sarah beamed at the realisation of what this meant for them and, while her gut twinged with a generous portion of anxiety, made a decision.
“Oh, hey,” Nicte winked, lifting up the glasses and motioning to pass one to Sarah.
Sarah plucked both glasses out of Nicte’s hands, set them back down and pulled her into an extremely familiar embrace. Nicte tensed at first, before sighing and unwinding against Sarah’s contact. The giddy relief of a secret relationship turned public flooded through them. Sarah ignored the turning heads and hushed whispers around them. She couldn’t give a salva-flying-fuck anymore.
Sarah parted from Nicte, stealing a fleeting kiss as she went. Both women blushed like teenagers as they considered one another. This was very new. Even in their Liberia days, they were never public.
“Well,” Nicte retrieved the glasses, momentarily lost for words, “cheers to that.”
Sarah issued a deep chuckle, clinking glasses with Nicte. A fleeting moment of guilt gripped Sarah, seeing Nicte as openly happy as she was now. It had been a big ask to keep their relationship in the dark all this time, but Nicte hadn’t complained once. Before Sarah’s mood shift could be interrogated by her other half, Petra cleared her throat, announcing her arrival. Sarah warily noted Nicte’s resulting white knuckle grip on the table.
“Well, Sarah,” Petra raised her eyebrows, “that was… unexpected.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes, “long overdue I’m sure you’ll agree, Petra.”
Petra laughed dryly, basically confirming her agreement. “So what is next for you then, Sarah?” Petra continued to ignore Nicte’s presence and it was starting to wind the ex-General up to no end.
In a bold move, Sarah placed an obvious hand over Nicte’s, brushing the back of it with her thumb. “Well,” Sarah smiled at her partner, “that’s for Nic & I to figure out.” Petra was positively stunned to silence, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly before just giving up and staying agape. A broad, smug grin spread across Nicte’s face. “Care to take a walk, Nic?” Sarah suggested, pulling Nicte’s hand from the table in her own, “it’s a bit crowded around here all of a sudden.” With that, they left behind an incredibly bemused Bellweather.
As they made a break from the over-stimulating festivities, Sarah caught Tally’s eye. She was with her unit now, a certain fakeness to her typical ray-of-sunshine-demeanour. Sarah’s gut twisted at the thought of Tally in pain, though at the same time she still found the concept of Tally caring for her that deeply entirely unbelievable. The worry that both her and Nicte had concocted Tally’s returned affections was very real to her.
It’s now or never.
She grasped a flicker of boldness and reached out to Tally via direct farspeech.
“Would you like to join us? I think we need to talk.”
*
“I gotta go,” Tally mumbled, beginning to turn away from her unit.
Raelle caught her by the arm, frowning, “not so fast, what’s up? Scylla and M are on their way back with more drinks.”
Tally’s eyes trailed after Sarah and Nicte, departing the celebration hand in hand. Sarah glanced back at her. She couldn’t place Sarah’s expression; unsure, concerned, curious, a touch teasing? Whatever it was it sent an unexplained jolt through Tally’s body.
“Oh! Umm, nothing really. I just need to… er… make sure my mother left after our fight and didn’t… I dunno,” Tally’s eyes darted towards the departing duo again, “vandalise Fort Salem or something.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t go well with you mom, Tal,” Abigail placed a hand on her shoulder, “at least she showed, that’s a big step.”
Tally fought every urge not to karate chop her sisters’ hands away and make a break for it. “Honestly, guys, it’s… it’s fine. I’ll be back in a bit… save me some champagne.”
Tally walked as quickly as she dared, giving her unit a nervous laugh and awkward wave to cement their concerns for her sanity. Abigail and Raelle exchanged high-browed looks but Tally was already gone. As she rounded the nearby combat building and broke into a trot after Sarah and Nicte who had just disappeared into the tree-line of the forest.
What am I EVEN doing?!
Her palms began to sweat and as a whirlpool of anxiety activated in her stomach.
What could we need to talk about?
Is this just goodbye, forever, thanks and good luck?
Tally didn’t even acknowledge the tears that welled in her eyes at the let down her imagination was so expertly constructing for her. The physical blurring effect on her vision, however, was unavoidable, and she stumbled over a root on the edge of the forest. Across the next four strides, Tally fought to remain upright, just about winning the battle against gravity. Before she could sweep the area to confirm her embarrassment was without an audience, Nicte snorted.
“Always the picture of grace…” Nicte chuckled, “designed for recon.”
Tally willed her red cheeks to cool, turning slowly to take in the sight before her. Nicte and Sarah sat back to back on the ground, entirely relaxed, using one another’s weight to provide support. It made them look like children, well, particularly Nicte who was dwarfed by Sarah. Sarah, who smiled at Tally with such blatant admiration she thought she might faint here and now. Instead, Tally loudly laughed like an absolute doll-house deluded idiot.
“Care to join us, Craven?” Sarah asked, shifting her ass so the requirement for a third became evident.
Tally remained frozen to the spot until Nicte grumbled and rubbed the base of her spine, clearly uncomfortable. She approached them like a lamb would a pair of lions, quivering in awe of these two legends. Tally carefully positioned herself to occupy the space determined for her. She ensured an inch of air was maintained between the other two. In an almost choreographed moment, both Sarah and Nicte edged backwards and closed that gap.
Tally revelled in the sensation of their warmth, transferred through the sharp angles of their shoulder blades pressed against hers. The tiny movements breathing had on their upper bodies was a delight Tally reckoned she could drink in for eternity. Sat here, shaded from the heat of the day and nothing but the faint noise of celebrations and birds, Tally felt blessed by the Goddess herself.
It isn’t long, however, before reality begins to burst from the ground like strangling roots, tangling Tally and dragging her down into the depths of despair. “You’re leaving?” she choked, noticing the immediate stiffening of the other two.
“We both are,” Nicte breathed.
Silent tears slid generously down Tally’s face, she could have sworn Nicte leaned into her further as they did.
“This is the only way, Tally,” Sarah explained, “the only way I can truly move on and be with the people I love.”
Tally looked up to the daylight between the trees, willing the tears to cascade backwards in their ducts, but the surge was too much. “Yeah, of course,” she stammered, “I had no idea the two of you… were…”
Tally’s response trailed off, courtesy of the green-eyed monster that was bouncing in her heart. For some reason, the idea of Sarah and Nicte made her incredibly jealous. Of which party, she couldn’t nail down. The cogs began to turn a little faster in Tally’s mind, gears snapping into place as she began to realise, echoes of the constant teasing Abigail and Raelle gave her over these women…
“Well I had to significantly drop my standards,” Nicte filled the interlude, “but Sarah is improving every day. Ow-”
Tally assumed Sarah landed a sharp elbow in Nicte’s side.
“I said the people I love,” Sarah whispered, placing a cautiously light hand over Tally’s own on the ground.
Tally felt as if her heart might burst and produce a series of rainbow-coloured parade floats that shot confetti all over Fort Salem for the next two weeks. When Nicte copied Sarah’s gesture with her other hand, Tally’s parade turned into a full blown mental festival of emotion. She laughed nervously, moving her head continuously from side to side to take in the sight of Sarah and Nicte holding her hands with utter disbelief. She felt they might disappear in smoke at any moment.
Did I die? Or perhaps my mother knocked me out and is dragging me back to the compound?
“If this,” Sarah applied a faint pressure on Tally’s hand, “isn’t what you want…”
Tally laughed; genuinely, generously and loudly. She relaxed further into them, dropping her head so the back of their skulls touched gently. “You tucking me in that drunk shambles of a night, and avoiding telling me about The Hague offer,” Tally chuckled and twisted her head from Sarah to Nicte, “you issuing death threats to the Petra Bellweather in front of everyone in the canteen that day when she gave me the news…” Tally laughed for a while longer and eventually the other two joined in.
Tally checked in with herself. It was as if her heart and mind had latched into place, the lock finally unpicked. All the acts of softness, fleeting touches, deep blushes, stolen glances and borderline flirting over the last two years finally summed together in an ultimate realisation.
I am in love with both of them.
Tally didn’t rush to break the silence that followed their laughter. Instead, she threaded her fingers in theirs. Tally beckoned every treasured memory she had shared with them. She bathed in her newfound understanding of the feelings she held for these incredible individuals, linking with Sarah and Nicte to offer them evidence of her upcoming statement.
Suddenly, the imagery of Tally’s memories became clearer, better defined. Sarah and Nicte adding their own detailed recollection to the visualisations via the link. They had noted the moments just as carefully as Tally had. There was no doubt in any of their minds.
“This is all I could ever want,” Tally beamed up at the sky, squeezing their hands tightly.
*