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Lady Lesso was on her way to breakfast when she felt the telltale wobble of her ankle, and stopped. Her heart sank. Not a good sign. Never a good sign. She knew that wobble well. The weakness in her joints that was the bane of Lesso's existence, and it made her angry. It. Was. Pathetic.
Lesso seethed where she stood. She was stronger than this. She was better than this. She was the new the Dean for the School for Evil. That meant something. Lesso was one of those most feared, intimidating witches of her age. She would not be laid low by something as trivial as a sore ankle. She would push through. Lesso strode forward. As soon as she shifted her to her left foot, her ankle buckled. Lesso hit the floor with a yell of pain.
White hot lighting shot through her foot. It hurt. Fuck, it hurt. Why did nothing work? How could Lesso be this powerful, and yet so so weak? Lesso bit back a string of curses. No one could find her in this condition. She had an image to maintain.
But Lesso was stupid. Oh so stupid. She'd known exactly what would happen, and she'd let her ego get the better of her. She should know better. She did, know better.
But oh, she hated it. Everything. She hated her body, she hated the pain… And she hated how much easier life was for everyone else. "Let's go outside," people would say. Fuck you, she'd think. Have we recently installed a slide instead of stairs? Because otherwise I don't think so.
There were voices in the corridor. Kids. Lesso thought about trying to stand, but she could tell the effort would be futile. She settled for crawling into a nearby broom closet. The stone floor scraped her knees but she managed pull her robes in behind her in the nick of time.
Lesso whimpered as her ankle clacked against the stone floor. She wanted to scream with frustration but she ground her teeth and kept quiet. Gingerly, she pressed her ankle against the soothing coolness of the stone floor and waited until the students had passed.
This is what she'd been reduced to. A whimpering shell of a woman, hiding in a broom cupboard from her own students. Pathetic.
The student's footsteps faded away. Lesso slumped against the wall. Her body burned with fatigue. Her ankle needed to be bound in a cold compress and wrapped. Pain induced nausea had overtaken the gnawing hunger in her stomach, but underneath that, Lesso knew she needed to eat, but she was no longer hungry.
Lesso ran through her options. Magic was not an option right now. She was in too much pain to focus properly, and in such a confined space, if something went wrong, there would be nowhere to hide. Couldn't take bird form, there was no way Lesso could concentrate that hard, and she flatly refused to crawl all the way back to her chambers. She might try binding her ankle with something firm and limping back. She could wait till everyone was at lunch, and do it then. Breakfast would be finishing up by now and mealtimes had the fewest people in the hallways.
Grudgingly, Lesso decided this was her best option. It would be a long few hours, though. Her mind made up, Lesso set about searching for something with which to bind her foot. She felt around. Nothing but brooms, mops, and buckets, not even a rag.
Lesso swore again. She'd have to tear a strip off her robe. Someone was in the hallway again. Shouldn't everyone be in classes? That was right. This school had classes. She could go out while everyone was in class. She was hurting too much to think clearly.
It took some maneuvering. She was sitting on the bottom half of said robe, so she had to rise up on her knees to extract it, and as she did, she was forced to shift her weight back into her feet for balance. She felt her ankles hyper-extending and she flinched violently, wrenching the robe out from under her and leaning forward on her knees again, whipping the end of her robe right into a stack of buckets. They clattered to the floor with a loud crash.
Lesso froze. The sound reverberated through the tiny room. The footsteps in the hallway stopped right outside the door. Lesso tried to change shape. She tried to stand. She even tried to seal the door with magic. No good. The handle turned. She just had time to fling her skirts over her offending ankle before the door opened.
"Now what are the rules about students- Lady Lesso?"
Lesso didn't know whether to be relieved or upset. Not a student, thankfully, but Clarissa Dovey, Dean for the School of Good. Lesso blinked her eyes against the sudden light. "Would you mind? I'm in the middle of something."
Dean Dovey was far from the worst person to discover her in this situation. She wasn't a student, and she wasn't one of Lesso's Never colleagues, which meant both that she could be convinced not to spread this story around, and that it wouldn't take blackmail to do it. Far from the worst.
But Dean Dovey was nice. Kind. Cheerful. Infuriatingly so. Lesso would rather have every joint in her body be pried apart by red hot skewers than endure an encouraging speech from the Dean of Good. She was decidedly not in the mood.
Dean Dovey seemed to shake off her bewilderment with surprising alacrity. "You weren't at breakfast. I was coming to see if you were alright." She smiled pleasantly.
That was the other thing. The Dean for the School of Good had been trying to make friends with her. Lady Lesso. The Dean of the School for Evil. Clearly her survival skills were underdeveloped. Lesso had been avoiding her. Now, she couldn't so much as walk away. "I was busy," she said simply. She gestured to closet. "I still am." She stared at Dean Dovey pointedly.
She seemed unfazed. "Right," she said cheerfully. She peered into the closet, most likely looking for what in the world Lesso could possibly be busy with. On finding nothing, she straightened. "Well, I'll leave you to it."
Lesso made no reply. Dovey went to shut the door, and Lesso sank back in relief, forgetting, of course, that she mustn't put any fucking weight on her ankle. More stabbing pain as her ankles bent, and she let out a truly embarrassing whimper, just as the door shut. Lesso clapped a hand to her mouth, as the door was wrenched open again. Dean Dovey stared down at her, wide eyed.
"You're hurt," she said, and she sounded genuinely distressed, which Lesso thought was funny. They barely knew each other.
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are!" Dovey declared.
Footsteps sounded in the adjoining hallway. Lesso felt her eyes widen. Dovey looked round, and then before Lesso knew what was happening, Dovey was crowding into the closet, her massive skirts smashing into Dovey's face. Gracefully straddling Lesso's knees, she shut the door behind them, engulfing them both in complete darkness.
Lesso spat out a mouthful of tulle. "How exactly does this help?" she hissed.
"Hang on," said Dovey.
There was a flash of gold, and the skirts retreated. Lesso could breathe again. A light bloomed in Dean Dovey's hand, and Lesso could see again too. Dovey had changed her dress into an outrageously pink, lace covered pant suit. Maybe it was just the lighting though. Lesso hoped it was just the lighting. No one should be forced to see a pantsuit with that much dangling lace. She looked like a living doily.
"Now tell me what hurts, so that I can heal you," said Dovey, kindly.
Lesso stared up at her, unblinking. The way she saw it, she had several options here. Option one, cackle. Psychotically. She couldn't be healed. That wasn't how it worked. That wasn't how she worked. She'd need a brand new body, and a way to transfer her soul. Lesso knew. She'd looked into it. Several times.
Option two, say nothing. Nice, easy.
Or. Lesso could choose option three. Tell the truth and watch the light die in her eyes as she realized there was nothing to be done and that the world was a cruel cruel place. She wouldn't want to be friends with Lesso after that…
Lesso chose option three.
"My ankle gave out."
Dovey beamed brilliantly, as though she hadn't expected a real answer. "That, I can fix. Show me your foot." Lesso struggled to get her foot out from underneath her. Dovey offered her a hand, which Lesso ignored. She clutched the wall instead, and finally managed to get her foot in front of her.
Dovey bent down to examine her ankle. She pulled back Lesso's sock. "That is not a good color," she said, her voice a tad wobbly. Lesso grinned. She hadn't actually seen it yet, but Dovey was right. Lesso's ankle was probably a very nasty blue, though it was looking rather green in the golden light.
"For reference," said Lesso. "It's not usually that size either."
"Good to know," said Dovey evenly. The initial shock seemed to have worn off. "What were you doing, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Walking." Lesso grinned wolfishly. This was getting to be fun.
"Walking," Dovey repeated flatly.
"Walking," Lesso confirmed.
"Your ankle gave out… from walking. You didn't twist it or anything?"
"Nope. Do your thing, Professor." She gestured to her ankle.
Dovey eyed it critically, then she raised her hand. The light in her hand went out and Lesso felt Dovey's hand on her ankle. She resisted the urge to kick her away.
She saw Dovey's magic before she felt it. Her ankle began to glow with a soft golden light, shining gently through Dovey's fingers and making Lesso wince. No one could ever call her squeamish but she'd never wanted to know what her ankle looked like from the inside. Now, truth be told, Lesso had expected nothing to happen, but it wasn't nothing. She felt the swelling go down. Her bones shifted, ever so slightly, and the pain drained away. It actually felt better.
"Huh," said Lesso.
"Better?" asked Dovey. She summoned her light again. "Final check."
Lesso watched with interest as Dovey took Lesso's foot in her hand, and moved the foot around in a circular motion, testing its mobility. Dovey frowned. "Something wrong?" Lesso asked cheerfully.
"This is not right," said Dovey without looking up. "Let me try again." The healing process was repeated. This time, it did not feel any better. "I don't understand," said Dovey. "It's too loose. The tendons are repaired, the ligaments are fine, but… there's no resistance."
"No," Lesso agreed.
"I don't understand what went wrong. I've done this successfully plenty of times before." Dovey looked downright miserable.
"Try the other ankle," suggested Lesso helpfully.
Dovey gave her an odd look but did as asked. "But this one was fine!" she exclaimed, upon finding the same results. "I mean it's a little stronger, but still too loose! Are any more of your joints like this?" Lesso couldn't help it. She cackled. Dovey's eyes widened. "But- isn't that painful?" Lesso laughed harder. Dovey's lip trembled. "Why- can't I fix it?"
"Oh Princess," Lesso said. "You can't fix something that isn't meant to be fixed. It's the way my body works. Some of us just have to suffer."
Dovey stared at her. Lesso thought she was going to cry, or maybe start on some long lament about Lesso's fortune in life, but instead all she said was, "I'm not a princess."
Lesso looked at her in surprise, and it was due to that surprise that she did not say what she was thinking. That Dovey was certainly sheltered enough to be a princess. Instead she said, "Well no, but I'm not calling you Godmother."
"That's fair, I suppose." Dovey took out a large lace handkerchief from her pocket and began dabbing her eyes.
That was Lesso's cue to leave. "Well," she pulled herself to her feet, putting all her weight on her good ankle this time. "Thanks for healing my ankle. You did what you could."
Dovey promptly burst into tears. "It wasn't enough," she sobbed. "You shouldn't have to hurt."
"I'm going to go," said Lesso, gesturing over her shoulder at the door. "You should to. I think we're running out of air in here." It was getting concerningly warm. "But this was fun. Let's not do it again."
Lesso left. Thankfully, she didn't see anyone on her way out, and even more thankfully, her ankle was holding her up, though she walked gingerly. She could tell it was still weak, of course. There wasn't anything she could do about that, but the lack of healing time would be nice. And watching Dovey learn that the world was not a meadow full of sunshine and rainbows had been deeply enjoyable. But- Lesso didn't feel as satisfied with it as she'd thought she would be.
She made her way back to her room with care. Everything hurt. Her hips ached from the way she'd been sitting, and apparently she hadn't positioned her shoulders properly before pulling herself up those few times, because those were hurting too. Every muscle in her entire body screamed with pure exhaustion. She didn't have the energy to think about Dovey right now.
And yet- on the table outside her quarters, there was a tray, ready and waiting for her. Dovey had said something about bringing her a tray, yet, there was no way she could have made it there in time. And this tray, did not look like it was from Dovey. It was large, darkened silver, and, due to the large cover, looked like something you would use to dramatically reveal an elaborate dish with at a grand dinner. Who would send it? Was this a trap of some kind?
But then, Lesso had wards alerting to all manner of poisons and spells. If she had been less tired, she would have been more wary, but… she was curious. She took it inside.
No alarms were set off. She shoved aside some bottles and set the gray down on her potion brewing table. Gingerly, she lifted the cover.
Several gusts of pink sparkles drifted out as soon as she cracked the lid, as if carried on a gentle breeze. A dark pink paper heart fluttered forth and landed in the palm of her hand. Lesso squinted. She opened the heart.
You didn't get breakfast -Princess
PS- I didn't want people to get the wrong idea
And then Dovey had added several hearts. Lesso snorted. No wonder the tray had seemed to hold none of the Dean's signature style. If someone saw and people started talking about how the Dean of Good was sending the Dean of Evil lovely breakfast trays… Lesso finished removing the lid to reveal what was indeed breakfast. Lesso put it aside and collapsed on the bed. She still wasn't hungry, and she didn't have the energy to think, let alone move, let alone mull over what had happened, and how this would affect her relationship with her fellow Dean moving forward.
The next day, a large box was delivered to her room, from Dovey, with more Privacy spells on it than Lesso had ever seen an Ever use. Lesso didn't even bother wondering what Dovey thought a good idea to send her. She just opened it.
Inside the box were two smaller boxes, one long and thin, the other square and smaller. She opened the smaller one first, and found it positively stuffed with bottles. All varying shades of pink and glowing pale blues, and they were labeled things like "anti inflammatory," "sleeping draught," a number labeled "for joint pain," and "anti nausea," and one very large one with a note attached that simply said "For the rings under your eyes."
Lesso- was feeling something. Something she should be feeling. She didn't like Dovey. They were not friends. It was simply a decent gesture from a colleague. One Lesso was suddenly quite overwhelmed by. Dovey was supposed to be nice, and Dovey was supposed to be kind, it was true. But this- Lesso caught sight of something sticking out from under the bottles. She removed a few, and tugged. Soft, dark, the thing came out with a wrench. Or things, rather. Because they were bottle covers, all varying shade of dark greens and blacks, and all corresponding sizes to the more colorful potions.
Lesso choked, and pretended she didn't want to cry. She was just tired, that was all.
Dare she look? With morbid curiosity, Lesso flung open the long box. There it was. A long piece of metal with a curving, wooden handle. It was a cane. A cane.
Lesso couldn't use a cane. She couldn't- let people see her like that. What kind of Never Dean needed a stick to walk? And yet- She couldn't help reaching out her fingers and tracing the hard curve of the handle with her fingers. It could make you look more intimidating, some torturous part of her brain whispered. And having something to shove unruly students out of the way with would be nice.
She picked it up. She let the end sink to the floor, and slowly, she let some of her weight fall on the cane instead of her foot. The relief was instantaneous. She no longer felt like her ankle was going to give at any moment. Lesso had the unusual sensation of wanting to sob. No one could know. Know one could know that this was why she had the cane. They had to believe she'd fought a dragon or something. She could tell them- but no. She wouldn't tell them a thing. She'd go away for a few days and come back with a cane. That'd be mysterious enough. Everyone would think something had happened. It'd be alright.
Everyone except Dovey. Dovey. Dovey who kept trying to be friends with Lesso. Dovey who Lesso now owed. Or no. She hadn't asked for these things. Dovey wasn't doing her a favor, she was giving her a gift. Several very thoughtful gifts that somehow made Lesso feel more seen than she had ever been before. Dovey, whom Lesso had intentionally caused pain… because why? Because she was hurting? That was perfectly Evil enough, but Lesso didn't think it made for very good relationships with one's Good colleagues, and sacrifices would have to be made.
Lesso made up her mind then no one would ever hurt the Dean for Good again, not without severe repercussions. And that, was how Lesso got her cane, and Dovey made a friend.