By default, Nevers weren’t ever supposed to know what Love was.
Textbooks were adamant: You don’t have the capacity to do so. Love corrupts your very soul and ruins your chance at Nevermore.
Professors sneered: Would a villain spend their time waiting by the window for their lover? Or would they be conquering lands instead?
Nevers are born from loveless unions. That is how the strongest villains are made, raised by cruelty and cold fists. (Lesso probably said that one.)
THERE IS NO ROOM FOR SAPPY LOVESICK LETTERS AND DRAMATIC ROMANTIC GESTURES, Castor shrieked, seeing a couple make out behind a tree.
If you asked Anadil, though, she had an inkling of what it felt like. Strange warmth blossoming in your chest, a fierce sense of protection and loyalty that went above simple henchmenship.
She’d dismissed it at first, chalking it up to nothing but friendship, the results of the coven bond with Hester and Dot. But one day she was helping Hester with spells and carrying her books to class for her, and the next she was throwing down her flag at the Girls/Boys Trial, saving her from the certain death that would have taken her.
Suddenly, she couldn’t imagine a life without her.
Four years later, it was clear to Anadil that Hester would’ve done the same for her, despite spitting out threats of murder that night for forcing her surrender. They were inseparable, along with Dot. It was their own found family, and under Hester’s grumbling and their comments at Dot, they loved each other.
(It was strange, then, that Anadil found herself wanting more.)
Four days into their first year, she sat with Hester and Dot at lunch, the three of them hidden from view in the shade of the trees. Nobody could see them unless they looked closely, while they had a decent view of everyone else. A Classic Never instinct engraved to them from birth: stalk your prey, but don’t let them stalk you.
Dumping spoonfuls of her own gruel into Hester’s bucket to help her heal from yesterday’s rough class on her and her demon, Anadil had gazed out across the field to where the Evers were sitting and stared.
“What’re you lookin’ at?” Hester mumbled, scarfing down the now chocolate gruel, courtesy of Dot. Dot had the same question written in her eyes, her mouth also full.
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. Evers were fascinating, that was for certain. How they’d all grown up dreaming of princes, princesses and fairytale weddings, raised in families built of love and worlds of colour and joy. They had so much that Evil didn’t, she thought, thinking of the School Master’s riddle.
She wasn’t sure if she could say so for the new girl dropped into Good— Agatha— based on their interactions thus far, but it had only been a few days. Yes, she liked her and thought she’d fit in with their school, but perhaps Good would change something for her.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” Dot said wistfully, picking chocolate out of her nails. “I wish Evil had Groom—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Hester snapped. “Ani, tell her. Just because she’s nicer than us doesn’t mean she can start acting like them.”
“Uglification does have its perks,” was all she said, making Dot pout. Anadil tended to stay neutral in meaningless arguments like these (plus, she knew Hester would cut ties with her the second she revealed that she did want to try and soften her wiry hair a bit).
“Looking at those spoiled brats isn’t going to help us solve the riddle, Ani,” Hester nudged her. Anadil tore her eyes away.
The group settled into silence as they finished their food, deciding to keep and clean the buckets for potion brewing. Stacking them together, Anadil grabbed the handles, and they fell into a steady walk back to their room at Evil.
Before they entered, Hester wavered slightly, pausing at the door. Dot paid her no mind, waiting as Hester stood in front of them, her lips pursed as if she was debating something. Hester was never hesitant, always outright and bold and brazen, so this unnerved Anadil enough for her to speak.
“Uh, are we going inside? Special Talents is next with Sheeks, you know.”
Hester’s eyes narrowed, zeroing in on her.
“Of course I know,” she scoffed. “And I’m sure you do too.”
Anadil’s brows furrowed. “What?” Now she was confused. Dot blinked owlishly, clearly confused as well. Hester laughed, borderline sarcastic, and that wasn’t good because Hester didn’t laugh.
“You did know what you were looking at, over at Good.”
It wasn’t a question. Hester raised an eyebrow, challenging her, and Rat #2 peeked out of a fold in her smock, sensing its master’s distress.
“Yeah, the snobs,” Anadil replied, feeling her chest go tight. What was Hester getting at? “So what? I told you I didn’t know, I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Hester slunk around her, face dark. “We’re Evil, Ani. It’s Nevermore for us. We’re not going to have sparkly ball gowns and have boys rescue us as we cry helplessly in towers. We save ourselves, because we’re all we have. We don’t need knights in shining armor.”
“I know,” she repeated desperately, the conversation steering into dangerous territory. Somewhere deep down, her heart threatened to burst with a secret. She knew what the School Master was searching for, she had solved the stupid riddle!—
“—No True Love’s kiss, because we have weapons deadlier. We’re better than them in every way— it’s the blasted pen guarded by the Good brother that has us cursed,” Hester spat.
But Anadil wasn’t listening anymore. Dot was chewing nervously on her bottom lip, head bobbing in fearful agreement.
“What if Nevers had Love?” Anadil interrupted.
She knew it was a mistake once the words left her mouth.
Hester stopped talking and shoved her and Dot in the room, eyes ablaze and her demon tattoo restored to its full glory. Dot grimaced, slipping away to the other bed to disappear as Hester seized Anadil by the collar, holding her to her level. The buckets clattered to the floor.
“Love?” she snarled, causing Anadil to shrink from the intensity in her gaze (were Hester’s eyes always this pretty?) .
“That’s what I said,” Anadil muttered. Hester gripped her collar harder. “Yeah, Hester. Love,” she said firmly, her voice louder.
Was it a good idea to tell Sophie? she wondered. She’d probably make an even larger fool out of herself trying to get Tedros’s attention. That was a no, then.
“I can’t believe you,” Hester gasped, loosening her grip and dropping Anadil to the bed. “Are you insane? Five minutes with a princess in our room and you’ve gone mad!”
Anadil ignored her. “What if we could have our own Evil version of a partner?” she pressed on, smoothing out the wrinkled and stained sheets calmly. “Except not as pathetic and not as obnoxious. Rule a kingdom together—”
“Do you want a prince, Ani?” Hester cackled, incredulous.
Anadil’s lips parted, not denying it but not confirming it either, because she’d prefer someone equal to a witch. She’d rather die than have any of the blonde, pretentious, self obsessed boys at Good.
Hester gawked at her non-response. “You’re joking.”
“Well—” Anadil started to defend herself, but Hester cut her off.
“A prince,” she said, deadpan. “You’re acting like Sophie. What did she do to you? Oh my God. We’re going to need a new Coven member.”
Anadil went to protest, to say No, I just discovered the real reason why Good wins, but Hester had already turned to the corner where Dot was cowering and beckoned her over.
“I don’t want a prince!” Anadil shouted, Dot stumbling mid-step at the outburst. “I just— I want an equal.”
Hester really looked at her then, realization dawning.
“No personal Tedros?” she asked. Anadil nodded, gagging for emphasis, and Dot giggled. Hester sighed, not completely satisfied with her answer and… mildly hurt? “Aren’t we your equals? Actually, don’t know about Dot—”
“Hey!” Dot swatted her with a pillow. Hester punched her in the shoulder.
Anadil snorted. “You guys obviously are, hell, we’re practically attached at the hip, but don’t you ever think about what it’d be like to be with someone? Uh, romantically?”
She said the last part under her breath, but Hester caught it, her eyes widening. Dot winced and braced for an explosion.
“Like, with kissing? Holding hands? Affection?!” Hester sputtered.
Anadil pushed her embarrassment aside, her cheeks burning. “Romantic relationships shouldn’t be defined by intimacy, but. Yes.”
The bells tolled somewhere, signalling the end of lunch, but no one moved.
Hester gaped. “I don’t understand— Dot? Anything?”
Hester had a pleading look on her face, unable to look at Anadil any longer. Dot shrugged, similarly speechless.
(Dot would be lying if she said she didn’t fantasize about becoming friends with that sweet Evergirl she saw briefly at the Welcoming, though.)
“You’re not going to kick me out for this, right?” Anadil said softly. Her rats chirped in alarm, one of them nuzzling her hand to comfort her. “It just sounds nice. Loving and being loved. Having someone to fight for.”
Hester seemed to physically deflate, exhaling heavily. She sat down next to her roommate, Dot joining them on the edge of the bed.
“It does sound nice,” she admitted. “But we can’t.”
Hester’s eyes hardened as she glared at the witches. “Never bring this up again or I’ll have your throats slit, you hear me?”
And that was the end of that.
(Anadil and Dot didn’t dare to ever mention the post-Trial moment of weakness.)
-
Anadil tried to keep her face neutral when Hester casually referred to her as her girlfriend, mid dispute with Merlin. Shouldn’t that warrant some conversation? she’d said, smirking. Hester had immediately backtracked, but Anadil knew she was flustered from the way she sniped at her. You want me to say ‘I love you’ like all the Everboys?
(She did, but this wasn’t the time or place to say so.)
As they went on a separate path from Tedros and Agatha, Merlin fell asleep behind them, slumping over in the rat’s fur. It was mainly quiet, with the exception of the crunch of dirt and occasional snores. Anadil yawned lazily as they trudged through the forest, and Hester smiled, despite herself.
“Want me to take over?” she offered.
Anadil had been controlling her rat for a while now, her exhaustion growing the further they got. She hummed affirmatively, the rat stopping so they could switch seats, Hester up front and Anadil in the middle. The rat continued on its path.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Girlfriend,” she added, poking fun at her earlier comment.
Anadil straightened, instantly alert. “Am I? Or just your friend?”
Hester tensed. She liked whatever she and Anadil had become— light kisses by campfires or pinned up behind trees, hand squeezes before battles, their deep trust in each other. Labeling it was scary, considering she’d been conditioned to not do all those things her entire life.
After a minute of silence, Anadil took the hint and ran her pale fingers through Hester’s dark hair.
“Sorry. I know this is hard for you,” she said, apologetic, and Hester relaxed slightly. “We don’t have to have this conversation. I don’t care what we call us. You’re enough.”
Hester stopped treating her like a sidekick long ago, and they made each other stronger. It was all she ever wanted. Her equal.
Hester kicked the rat’s side and it squeaked, its pace slowing from the action. Merlin stirred, saying something in his sleep. Hester shifted so she was facing Anadil, who was looking at her curiously. Her demon pulsed at her neck, matching the beat of her heart.
“Ani.”
“Hester.” (She despised nicknames.)
Hester kissed her softly, hoping to convey her jumbled emotions. Anadil smiled against her lips, tilting her chin upwards and guiding her closer.
“Remember when you threatened to slit my throat?” she whispered, making Hester shiver.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Hester teased.
“First year, when we had to solve that riddle. I asked about Nevers’ Love.”
“Oh.” She did remember, because it wasn’t often she was that vulnerable with other people. “Why are you...?”
Anadil grinned. “Thinking about how I found my personal Tedros.”
Hester groaned and shoved her off the moving rat. Anadil whistled for her rat to stop, then climbed back on, wheezing with laughter.
“Should’ve shoved you harder,” Hester grumped. Anadil picked the leaves out of her hair, flicking them at the other girl.
“What happened to ‘You catch me, I catch you?’ And the rats listen to me,darling,” she retorted, throwing in the pet name for extra effect. Hester choked in disgust and dissolved into a coughing fit, thumping at her chest.
“My demon could best them, sweetheart,” she countered sharply.
“You’re forgetting how easily that kind of energy can get you tired out, sugar plum.”
Hester scowled. She hated being reminded of weakness. Anadil noticed and reached for her hand. Hester let her take it.
“You know I’m kidding. You have one of the strongest talents I know. Hester, I—” Anadil bit her tongue, faltering. Hester swallowed, guessing at what was coming next. “I love you. You don’t have to say anything in return, I just wanted to let you know in case it ends horribly in Foxwood.”
Hester fell off the rat this time. Anadil snorted and pulled her up.
“We should catch up with Tedros and Agatha,” Hester said, changing the subject, but she was blushing.
Anadil took no offense, passing her the reins. “They shouldn’t be too far ahead—”
“Wait. One more thing,” Hester interrupted.
Her mother would curse her from the grave if she saw what she was about to do.
She dropped the reins, grabbing Anadil’s face and kissing her hard enough to bruise.
“I love you too,” she said breathlessly, once they broke apart. Anadil hid her surprise, kissing her again instead.
“Like all the Everboys?” she whispered, words ghosting across her mouth.
Hester snagged her bottom lip between her teeth and grinned. “Better than all the Everboys.”
At the commotion, Merlin woke, took one glance at them, and promptly threw up.