Work Text:
It had started with just little things.
The spoon in her sugar bowl was left out on the counter when she always made sure to leave it in.
The pearl from one of her earrings had gone missing seemingly overnight.
Tiny slice marks in an open box of tissues on her bedside table.
Now these were small noncommittal things that, though rather odd, could be explained one way or another. Then…stranger things started to happen, now not only to her home, but to her office that said apartment was attached to.
One afternoon she reached into the drawer of her desk, intent on grabbing a folder of paperwork for an incoming exchange student, only to find tiny squares had been cut from some of the edges of the paper.
Another day, during her usual afternoon pace in front of the fireplace, she had noticed several trinkets on the bookshelf against the wall had been knocked down. Larissa had put them back into place with a careful hand. Turning them all until everything was perfectly back in its proper place.
Someone was messing with her.
The thought had floated through her mind for the remainder of the school day. But who could be bold enough to pull something like this? That evening she’d taken to writing down a list of potential suspects before crumpling the paper up and tossing it into the fire that blazed in the hearth.
No. It’s just in her head. Nobody, student or staff, would be brave enough to rifle through her desk without permission, let alone enter her home.
Whatever this was, it all had to be just some strange sort of coincidence.
Yea…a coincidence…
==============================================================================
On this particular morning Larissa had awoken to the shrill ring of the vintage twin bell alarm clock that sat on her bedside table. Rolling over beneath the fluffy green duvet, a manicured hand shot out to stop the annoying thing.
Even through her love for all things vintage, she couldn’t figure out why she had kept the damn clock. Maybe it was just out of a place of sentiment or maybe it was purely out of tradition. It had been there, along with the other furniture that came with the apartment, since her tenure as Principal of Nevermore Academy.
Sitting up, she raised her arms above her head, stretching deeply. Feeling her joints loosen and her neck crack as she rolled her shoulders.
Larissa stood, her bare feet landing on the soft rug that sat beneath the large four poster bed. Snagging the sage colored silk robe that hung on the back of her vanity chair, she pulled the cool fabric over her shoulders and made her way into the bathroom.
Flicking on the bright lights, she stood in front of the mirror, still blinking away the sleep from her eyes. Running a hand through her soft silvery locks, she pulled it back and twisted it up, securing it with a clip while reaching for the facial cleanser that sat neatly on a tray with her other products when something caught her eye.
The cap to her toothpaste, that she had in fact twisted back into place the night before thank you very much, was gone. Thick blue paste was seeping out into a sticky glob on the brown marble countertop.
If there was one thing Larissa Weems prided herself in being, it was tidy. As swiftly as she had discovered the mess she had snagged the container of antibacterial cleaning wipes from underneath the sink and wiped it up.
She scoured the counter, even dropping down and looking under the edge of the cabinets below, and yet there was no sign of the cap anywhere. It was puzzling and as much as it irked her the last thing she wanted to do was waste an almost full tube of toothpaste, so she found a small tray to set it on in case it spilled out once more and carried on with the rest of her morning routine.
Once she was fully dressed and satisfied, well mostly satisfied with her appearance the statuesque woman made her way into her office. There had only been one thing she hadn’t been able to do yet, and that was apply her signature ruby red lipstick. The tube of which she had left in the top drawer of her desk, having re-applied it just before a meeting the previous afternoon.
Larissa sat down on the comfortable leather rolling chair and opened the drawer, completely struck with horror at what she had found inside.
Much like the toothpaste, the cap of the tube of lipstick was nowhere to be seen. The lipstick itself had been twisted up and seemingly chewed off.
Now, some form of rodent could have been an easy explanation for the gnawed off lipstick. What wasn’t however, was the pentagram smeared that had been smeared into the bottom of the drawer itself. Based on the color alone, it had been made with her lipstick. Small writing just at the top of the marking spelled out the name “Nero”. Not only that, but all the other office supplies in said drawer had been haphazardly pushed aside. Larissa could have sworn on one of her fancy fountain pens there were tiny handprints.
It had to be a prank. There was no other explanation.
The previous times it had been small things she was easily able to brush off, but this? This was vandalism in its purest form.
By lunchtime she had called a schoolwide meeting in the quad to address the incident. She had asked those responsible to come forward immediately, promising there would be lesser punishment in return for their honesty. In the case that the culprit felt embarrassed, she made it clear they could turn themselves in discretely in her office before the end of the day.
The lipstick itself was custom made, mixed with the perfect amount of blue tones that enhanced her lilly white complexion instead of washing it out. It wasn’t that she didn't have the funds to buy another, but it would be a pain having to shift her appearance every day for a week just to ensure her lips remained the same stark red shade. Which, the creature of habit Principal Weems was, she would in fact be doing.
Before sauntering her way back up to the office, Larissa had a mountain of duties to attend to that day. Mainly sitting in on classes and observing the lessons. With midterms coming up it was imperative she make sure everything was running smoothly, the board always expected exemplary marks on exams. Vandal or no, it was a job that couldn’t be overlooked.
It was late in the evening when she had finally been able to return to her office. The music teacher had caught her on the journey back and pulled her into an impromptu meeting about Nevermore’s acapella group and their next concert date.
The massive carved door swung shut behind her, shutting with a satisfying click. Larissa had left it unlocked with the intention of giving the culprit their chance to talk to her personally since she had been pulled away from the office for the majority of the day.
She had been about to settle down at her desk once more to check her emails, when a tiny black envelope caught her eye. It was about half the size of a post it note and the flap was bordered in a thin black lace. On the front written with scrawling font in a silvery ink it was addressed:
To Madame Principal
Very carefully, Larissa opened the small letter. Inside she found a small piece of paper, just as black as the envelope it came in. The surface was covered in the same neat scrawling handwriting. It was so small in fact that she found herself needing to pull out the small reading spectacles she kept in a neighboring drawer to the one where the lipstick incident had occurred.
Wearing her reading glasses was something she hated to do. It didn't matter that she had painstakingly gone through and chosen the daintiest of frames. Thin gold half moons with crystals encrusted on the sides, they always ended up perched perfectly about halfway down her nose, a side effect of leaning forward too much as she poured over contracts and emails. But it didn’t take away from the fact that she would rather risk the eye strain than wear the damn things.
Alas, it seemed this note with its miniscule scrawling script was desperately in need of her spectacles. Begrudgingly, she put them on. Making sure they were squarely in place before gazing back down at the note between her fingers, it read:
Dear Madame Principal,
It has come to my attention that my daughter has been taking things that have rather inconvenienced you. In doing so she has broken several rules and will be punished accordingly, I assure you. But I do wish to formally apologize face to face and return what I can.
Please meet me in your office at midnight tonight.
Sincerest regards,
MA
To say she was taken aback was an understatement. This single letter had left her with more questions than she had answers for.
Who would write a note that small?
Why did they insist on meeting her so late?
How did they have access to her home?
And most importantly who was this mysterious MA whose daughter had been stealing such strange items from her?
==============================================================================
It was late, about fifteen minutes from midnight or so based on what the old grandfather clock in the corner of Larissa’s office read. She hadn’t bothered to change from her work clothes into something more comfortable. A decision she was currently regretting as the kitten heels she wore were pinching her feet something fierce. But she paced on in front of the fireplace. Slightly wincing through the pain as she went.
One thing Principal Weems would absolutely not be doing was dress informally whilst meeting a student's parent, however late it may be.
The sharp gong of the old clock snapped her out of her train of thought. She stood stock still waiting for a knock at the door as the grandfather clock rang out twelve times, signaling midnight.
There was no knock, the doorknob hadn’t turned either, and Larissa felt herself growing more and more impatient by the second. She half expected someone to just suddenly appear in the middle of the room.
A deep sigh escaped her, she had been made the fool once more. Why had she trusted that note in the first place when she could very well be comfortably curled up underneath the silk sheets of her bed, fast asleep and all but dead to the world. Turning sharply on her heel, she started for the door of her apartment, her hand just barely grazing the ornate silver doorknob when she heard a small noise almost like the clearing of a throat followed by a voice calling out to her from behind.
“Madame Principal?”
Larissa froze. There had been no knocks or openings of doors, just a small disembodied voice calling for her, the Principal of Nevermore Academy. She had no reason to feel as frightened by it all as she did, there were plenty of outcasts who could easily throw their voices and the like. But this felt entirely different, and she couldn’t quite place why the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she turned and scanned the empty room.
Seeing not a single soul save for herself, she had decided it was simply her imagination, that she would continue heading off to bed as planned. No sooner had Larissa turned back to open the door did she hear the voice calling out to her again.
“Over here, on the bookshelf!”
On the bookshelf
At this, she whipped around fully expecting to see someone or something perched on the top of the old oak bookcase on the far side of the room. She had been about to reprimand whoever it was for their choice of seating, when movement caught her eye.
Standing there, on a shelf that would be about eye level to Larissa, was a small woman. At first she could hardly make her out, but as she approached the bookcase she came more into focus.
The woman, presumably MA, was small, so tiny in fact that she couldn't have been any taller than the length of Larissa's middle finger. She was clad in a black poets shirt with what looked to be a corset over top of it; her pants were a similar shade tucked into dark colored boots. Curiously a pin was tucked into her belt as one would sheathe a sword. Her inky black hair was tied back with what looked to be a lace ribbon.
Larissa couldn’t help but be awestruck at the sight before her. She was an expert on outcasts, in fact it was a requirement for running a school such as Nevermore, and yet never had she seen anyone so…small.
Opening her mouth, she attempted to speak but found no words would come out.
“Apologies for being a few minutes later than I originally said. I ended up taking quite a nasty tumble on my way up from the passage, and I dropped the things I came to return to you in between the walls.”
Principal Weems had been about to say that it was quite alright when she noticed the small woman was favoring her left leg, and leaning almost shakily against her copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ to support her tiny body.
“I– OH! You poor thing you're hurt! Don’t worry about being late, or the items, let's get you patched up. I know we only just met and I don’t want to offend you in any way, but may I?” Larissa reached out a hand tentatively towards the small woman, who she fully expected to reject the offer, they had only just met after all and she wasn’t sure if the gesture would come off as rude. Relief flooded her system as her tiny companion limped into her hand, grasping her thumb for support.
Moving quickly, she moved back across the office, careful not to jostle the precious cargo in her palm. She brought her straight through to the bathroom. Gently, she deposited the minute woman onto a soft, clean washcloth she had set on the counter before reaching underneath in search of the first aid kit she kept beneath it.
Setting the metal tin down on the counter, she popped it open to reveal an array of medical supplies. There was everything from tongue depressors to gauze packed away inside. Larissa only hoped there was something that she could use to aid her injured guest. She turned and glanced over her small frame that was almost swallowed up by the plush towel.
“Where does it hurt the most? I’m assuming in your leg yes?”
The brunette nodded, sitting up as best she could on the makeshift bed. Larissa looked over her small form, taking solace in the fact she found no visible bleeding, only traces of dust hinting at an injury.
“I wasn’t able to avoid twisting my ankle, but it was a better alternative to falling over the edge of the wall and to my death. Although, what a thrill that would have been mon lis?”
Larissa stared at her with an indiscernible look on her face, caught somewhere between confusion and concern. “Yes…I suppose..”
Regardless she trucked on, raiding the first aid kit until she found a small spool of medical tape. Coming to the realization tongue depressors would be too long and thick to stabilize the injury, she told her petite friend to stay put whilst she sauntered off to the cabinet in the small room that housed her very large bathtub. It housed an array of candles along with a box of matches, which she grabbed before returning to the counter.
Carefully, using the small pair of scissors, Larissa cut two matchsticks down to the right size, before asking her patient to hold them in place on either side of their leg while she tenderly wrapped the injured ankle with the tape.
“I must apologize, but I don’t think I ever got your name aside from the initials you left on your note. I saw you address me as ‘Madame Principal’ but you can just call me Larissa.”
The small raven haired woman beamed up at her.
“Larissa,” the name rolled off her tongue in a delightfully husky tone, “it’s a beautiful name. I’m Morticia by the way, but since we don’t need to be formal you can just call me ‘Tish’.”
A smile graced Larissa’s lips as she finished up the makeshift brace.
“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Tish,” she inhaled deeply before continuing,”please don’t take offense to this but— I don’t think I’ve ever met an outcast quite so petite before…”
Larissa helped the tiny Tish to her feet, handing her a tongue depressor to help keep her balance like a crutch as she tested out her newly bandaged ankle. Morticia looked at her, there was a warmth to her gaze.
“Oh don’t worry mon chéri I don’t take offense to it at all. I’m not exactly an outcast, I’m what’s called a Borrower.”
Borrower? Never in all her years had she heard the term. The statuesque Englishwoman raised a brow curiously at the five inch tall woman, silently urging her to go on.
“You see, Borrowers like me and my own family, get by on taking scraps from you ‘human beans’ to live. We never take things that are of value or importance. Only little things here and there that would never be noticed.”
Morticia’s small shoulders slumped forwards slightly, now it was her turn to release a deep breath as she steeled her resolve. It felt nothing short of mortifying to admit to what her daughter had done to Madame Princ— Larissa.
“Larissa, the reason I wanted to meet with you here tonight was to apologize for what my little raven did. We’ve been living within the walls behind your bookcase for generations. My daughter is…new, to leaving the nest and borrowing from you.”
She looked down at the toes of her boots, embarrassed to meet the ocean blue gaze of her gracious host that seemed to pin her to the spot.
“I rather regrettably let her try it on her own. There had been no reason to suspect her of any wrongdoing up until this morning when she came back home with red paste stuck to the soles of her boots, as if I wouldn’t notice.” Morticia mumbled the last part underneath her breath, “But then I heard your speech in the quad this afternoon, and put two and two together. Larissa, I’m so deeply sorry for the way she behaved; I hope you can forgive Wednesday and myself for her behavior.”
With that, Tish deeply bowed forward in reverence as far as her injured leg would allow. Her head, hung in defeat, was suddenly and slowly tilted upwards by a large gentle finger beneath her chin.
“No harm done Tish, all is forgiven.”
To say Larissa was fascinated by this new world of ‘Borrowers’ was an understatement. She’d never seen anything like it, and just to think for all these years there had been tiny people sneaking to and from her home without her knowledge.
She was completely unable to help the sudden rising wave of protectiveness she felt for this tiny woman and her family. They had been living off of the scraps of what she had, while she herself had lived in an almost relaxed luxury. It only felt right to let them take whatever they needed, no holds barred.
“Morticia, I want you to know that you’re free to take anything from my home that you may need. I have more than enough for just one person. What’s mine, is yours my friend.”
Tish leapt forwards in excitement grabbing into Larissa’s outstretched finger with both of her own, being careful to keep her body weight on the makeshift crutch, and shook it eagerly.
“You have my deepest thanks, Larissa.” Her dark plum colored lips curved into a wide grin that the tall principal found herself returning in earnest.
==============================================================================
The pair had moved to the kitchen, Tish once again taking a ride in Larissa’s palm, and settled at the small table for tea upon the blonde's insistence.
Larissa had found the tin of loose leaf earl grey to be a perfect height for a small table for her guest, who sat atop the butter dish with a thimble of hot tea in her tiny hands. Principal Weems had asked about life as a borrower, what their world was like and their traditions; finding it captivatingly fascinating with a growing hunger to know more.
Morticia in turn told her about their home in between sips of tea; they lived within the walls of her office, between the cavity of the fireplace and the plaster gorgon face that adorned it. It was warm and dark there, perfect conditions for the mushroom garden Tish tended to, as well as her favorite venus fly trap, Cleopatra. She told Larissa how the garden thrived and that it was her small family's main source of food. The only time they borrowed essentials from her kitchen was when they really needed the things mushrooms couldn’t provide like flour, sugar, salt, and on occasion the very tea leaves from the tin she was using as a table.
She told her about her family: her daughter and son, their father had been snatched away by a crow in the courtyard when they were young, too little to remember. But she carried on as a single mother, using the tips and tricks her own mother had taught her many years before in order to survive.
Pins made a good weapon for fending off the unfriendly bugs that wished to tear them limb from limb and have them as a meal, in fact she made both her children practice fencing on a weekly basis to make sure they were ready if the need ever arose for them to fight.
Most of their clothes, and the lace Morticia had added to the note she left Larissa, were hand woven with thread taken from the very sewing kit Larissa got the thimble from. Any other thread they needed was provided in the form of spider silk by the family's rather large pet spider, Homer. Tish told her how they used him as a form of transportation too as it was easier to travel longer distances within the walls on eight legs rather than two.
Larissa had to force back a shudder at the thought of such a large spider living within the walls, but held her composure enough as to not seem rude. She was completely captivated by the world she had no idea was happening all around her; even offered Tish to leave a list of all the supplies necessary on the bookshelf and that she would personally help gather whatever things the family needed. Also extending Tish the offer to come for tea anytime, as she was quite enjoying the company.
However, one thought kept tickling the back of her mind, why had her daughter left the pentagram in the bottom of her desk drawer?
“Ah, mon petite corbeau was trying to reach into the other side with a seance. Though I must apologize again for her actions, it must have been a nightmare to get the lipstick off of everything. It may stick better than chalk, but it's never my first choice.”
A small chuckle bubbled up from deep within Larissa, “Like I said before, no harm done, Tish. I think it's rather sweet though, trying to contact her father from the other side.”
Morticia looked taken aback, tilting her head slightly to look at her blonde giantess.
“Her father? Wednesday was trying to contact Gomez?”
“I– No the name written down on the pentagram was ‘Nero’ I just assumed–”
Larissa was cut off by Morticia's sudden peal of laughter, finding she had to place the thimble down on the tin of tea leaves so it didn’t spill. Once she was able to catch her breath enough to offer an explanation, she spoke.
“Nero is the name of Wednesday’s pet scorpion who died several years ago.”
A…scorpion.
The ransacking of the drawer, her custom lipstick having been ruined, it was all to try and contact the girl's beloved dead pet. She sat there in disbelief for a moment as she processed this information. Her gaze met Morticia's once more and they both found themselves unable to help the fit of hysterics that overcame them. Once it had subsided, Tish still giggling and Larissa brushing away tears from her eyes, the kind that came from laughing so hard, they sat there in a comfortable silence for a moment while finishing up their tea.
“So Tish, you told me about the mushroom garden you tend to. Is it safe to assume you enjoy gardening?” Larissa asked, an idea brewing in her mind as she set the now empty teacup and thimble in the kitchen sink.
“Yes actually! I’ve always loved taking trips to the rooftop, watching the groundskeeper take care of the courtyard. In fact, sometimes I’ve wondered had I been born a ‘human bean’ like yourself, if I would have a garden of my own. But, c'est la vie.”
“Well…would you like to see the school’s conservatory?”
==============================================================================
The trip up to the conservatory had been quick, Morticia had ridden in Larissa's shirt pocket so as not to draw attention to the Borrower. Though it was well after midnight at this point, Larissa knew some of her students tended to be night owls and thought it better this way in order to keep Morticia’s world an enigma.
Comfortably and securely Tish nestled into the soft curve of Larissa’s chest as she stayed hidden; listening to the sound of her tall friend's kitten heels echoing through the halls and the steady beating of her heart. It had nearly lulled her to sleep before the honeyed tone of her companions' voice cut through the calm.
“We’re here.”
Morticia’s small head popped up over the edge of the pocket, her eyes bulged out of their sockets as she took in the atmosphere around them.
It was green, more green than Tish had ever seen in her life. Various plants grew up and over the iron gables of the round glass room. Planters filled to the brim with flowers were placed near the edges of the room, leaving space in the middle for rows of desks. Some of which housed individually potted flowers. It was beautiful, illuminated by streaks of silver moonlight that poured through the glass panes. It reminded her of a jungle or the dense forests that surrounded Nevermore which in all honesty Tish had never been brave enough herself to venture into.
She felt Larissa’s warm soft hand gently curl around her, helping lift her out of the pocket and onto the teachers desk near the front of the room.
“This is– I’ve never seen so many— oh thank you, Rissa!”
Morticia tightly embraced the large hand that had hovered by her with as much strength as she could muster in thanks as Larissa stood shocked at the nickname that had just been bestowed upon her. Nobody in their right mind had ever dared to call her ‘Rissa’, not even her own family. It felt odd, but nice in a way that she couldn’t quite explain.
They spent hours perusing the vegetation with Tish perched upon Larissa’s shoulder, or within her palm whenever she requested a closer look. The Borrower devoured every bit of information her blonde companion could provide on the flora housed within the room.
The pair had been sitting at the old oak of the teacher’s desk pouring over old dusty tomes that housed endless information on various nightshades, Morticia’s small form sitting atop an upturned flowerpot to rest her injured leg while Larissa rested her chin on her hand, reading to her small companion.
Soft rays of morning light started to gently pour into the room, painting it in a hue of gold. Neither of them had realized a new day had been dawning until the warm rays reached the pages of the book. Larissa’s ocean blue eyes turned to gaze out of the classroom's large glass walls, watching the sunrise peek over the tops of the pine forest that surrounded Nevermore.
It was a shame this night had come to an end, Weems had grown rather fond of the Borrowers company. The pair made their way back up to the Principals office in the same way they’d come to the conservatory, with Morticia snugly hidden within Larissa’s shirt pocket; where she rode the entire way up until the pair stepped through the large wooden doors. Much to the blonde's surprise, as she had walked around to the bookshelf where she had first discovered Tish, she met yet another borrower.
She was shorter, with hair as black as ink that matched Morticia’s, only hers was tied in two braids that she wore low on either side of her head. Her dark eyes were emotionless and her skin was almost a pale grey. If she hadn’t kicked away from the book she leaned against, the same copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ she found Morticia holding onto for support, Larissa would have assumed the girl to be a corpse. Based on what information her friend had given her earlier this evening, she could only assume this was her daughter, Wednesday.
“Mother. I assume mother apologized on my behalf?” She greeted flatly as Larissa gently deposited Morticia on the shelf. Her dark eyes flicking between the two of them.
Morticia rolled her eyes at the teen, as she hobbled forward, still using the tongue depressor from earlier as a crutch “I did. However, you still owe Larissa an apology as well, mon petite corbeau.”
Wednesday's dark eyes slowly traveled upward to meet the tall woman’s, still with the same cold deadpan stare. When she spoke it was still in that emotionless tone; it was almost guarded, Larissa realized.
“I…I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted, Wednesday. But next time you need to perform a seance, please don’t use my lipstick.”
The young girl's eyes widened almost comically, a deep blush blooming across her cheeks, before narrowing her gaze at her mother, who simply smiled in response. Obviously she hadn’t expected the giantess standing in front of her to know her name. With an embarrassed huff Wednesday stormed off through a small gap in the books. Along the back of the shelf Larissa saw a small hole she had never noticed before. It reminded her of those mouse holes you’d see in an old cartoon, perfectly cut like a rounded doorway; she could just make out the flicker of a light coming from the other side, the subtle hinting of a life within the walls.
Morticia turned her attention back to the towering woman before her, greeted with a soft warm smile.
“Thank you, for being so forgiving towards her. Wednesday is…complicated, but she means well.”
“It seems to me she cares deeply about you, what teenager goes running headlong into possible danger to go searching for her mother?”
“I…suppose she did, didn’t she?” Morticia said with a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.
Finally, the pair said their goodbyes. Tish promised to keep in touch and leave a supply list for Larissa as she said she would before limping her way to the same passage Wednesday had gone through.
One hand on the stone wall of the small corridor, Morticia turned back one last time to gaze at her newfound friend. Giving her one last small wave before disappearing out of sight.
Principal Weems was left standing in the now empty office, greatly missing the presence of the small woman already, and with one lingering thought.
What was this world she’d stumbled into?