Freedom
I: Mary
Mary felt like she couldn't breathe. Living in Weddle, Novyi Zem, she felt the air punched from her chest. Whatever oxygen failed to make it through her lungs pressed in around her, clutching her throat in a vicious grip and sticking to her skin.
Metaphorically, of course. The air skipping off the sea and floating through the city was fresh and clear. Mary's chest had no problem heaving as she slipped between the gaps of people, trying desperatly to avoid skin contact. And, as long as she could move her hands, Mary would forever be able to breath just fine.
Mary ran through the streets, ignoring the shouts of traders wanting her attention and the customers she enrages by blocking their paths. She ignored the calls of those who knew her, wanting to bargain for her services.
The zowa didn't go unnoticed, no matter how large the city.
Mary sprinted until she reached the cliffs, a sheer red face that looked over deep blue waters and the bustling harbour below. It was a popular tourist attraction, especially among Ravkans. Mary flicked her arm, as if skipping a stone, and a rush of wind fluttered through her frizzy brown curls and over dark skin. She gripped the railing and hung her head, watching the waves crash into the cliff's base as she took large, gasping breaths.
Mary shouldn't complain, as her guardians repeatedly remind her. There was absolutely nothing for her to whine about. She was zowa, for Saints sake. She had a roof over her head, food in her stomach and a job - several, in fact - down in the market. She needed to be greatful for what she had, for there were people with much less.
Except, everything was so crowded. Down by the market, there were so many sounds you could barely hear what the person in front of you was saying. There were so many smells you couldn't quite tell what was what. There were so many people. You couldn't walk five steps without someone slamming into your side. Mary lived in a boarding house where they shoved six girls to a room, two - and even sometimes three - to a bed. Mary had tried years ago to escape from all the touches by curling up on the floor but even then something was always brushing her skin, licking at her ankles and winding around her wrists. Everywhere Mary went, there were always people shouting, trying to flag her down. The jobs a zowa could do seemed endless and there was always someone willing to spend a couple extra Zemeni coin.
Mary doesn't remember when it all started to both her. She doesn't recall when the comfort her favourite tunic turned to an itch. She doesn’t remember when she went from being loud to hating the shouts. She doesn’t remember when the touch of another went from comforting to deadly. She doesn’t remember when the market she loved so dearly became a place of horrors. She doesn't remember when being zowa became a chore instead of a blessing.
"Excuse me?" A boy said and Mary turned. He had wild enough curls to give her's a run for their money and a pair of circular glasses on his nose, hazel eyes peering through the lenses. His skin was paler than most of the other Zemeni around but he spoke the language perfectly. Behind him was a woman who was obviously his mother and two more boys, one Ravkan and the other some Ravkan mix. Mary's brow furrowed. She's never seen these people before.
Just another interaction to get through. Mary thought, her happy, helpful mask slipping into place as she smiled. "Hello. Can I help you?"
"Are you alright?" The boy asked with a concern tilt of his head.
She blinked, surprised. No one ever asked her that question, not even the girls she bunked with, but the lie rolled off her tonuge with ease. "Of course."
The woman gave her a look so similiar to the guardians when they knew she was sprouting bullshit. She pushed past her son to stand directly in front of her. Mary took a step back, the air between them crackling and plastering to her skin. She sent another gust of wind flowing through. "You're lying."
"Who are you?" Mary demanded, a defensive wall building around her usual fortress. She wasn't about to be repremanded by someone she didn't even know.
The woman softened. "I'm Effie and this is my son James and his friends Remus and Peter. We came aboard that ship." Effie pointed to somewhere out in the harbour.
Mary turned and followed her finger. There, docked between a Ravkan trader ship and a Ketterdam tourist boat was a grand vessle with The Marauder plastered along the bow. She noticed the lack of a flag whipping through the air.
"Who did you come with?"
Effie smiled. "My husband." She pointed again and Mary saw a man in a vibrant coat flanked by two boys with equally vibrant hair.
Mary squinted, eyes raking the jacket. Along the man's back, a symbol glowed in gold. A sun with a ship in it's center. Her eyes widened. She's heard stories of that mark and of the man who wears it. A man as bright as the sun and a blazing temper to match. "Sol."
Effie nodded. "Now, dear, are you alright?"
Mary stiffened at the question and refused to look anywhere but the man. Am I alright? For many, Mary assumed the answer was easy. A plain one syllable, three letter word. Yes. But Mary? She wished she could claw out of her own skin, drowning in a pool of discomfort, always on the brink of insanity. Was that normal? Did everyone else feel a deep itch in their bones whenever their skin brushed the flesh of another but there was just this unanimous agreement to ignore it? Did everyone else wish to tear their garments to shreds for just a second of freedom? Did everyone else long for the wind, loud enough to block out the noise, cool enough to take their mind off every other sensation around?
"Dear-" Effie began again, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder.
Mary hissed, the touch burning. It was as if the woman had wormed her way under her skin and was wrapping her organs around her fingers. The touch, even through clothing, was blazing, sizziling, too much. Mary ducked and twisted under Effie's arm, using the force of the wind to snap it away from her. She turned, chest heaving and hands shaking as she held out her palms, waiting for the next touch.
Effie stood, blinking in surprise and rubbing her arm. Next to her, James had drawn the pistol from his hip. Behind both of them, Peter and Remus stood at the ready. Peter had copied Mary's exact position, except with a sturdier stance and a wave curling in the air around him. Remus had a handful of strange metal, sun-looking stars, one in his dominent hand ready to throw and two others hovering in the air next to his head.
Effie waved the boys off and slowly raised her hands into the air. Hesitantly, the boys oblidged and stood down.
"I'm sorry, dear," Effie said calmly, that comforting smile still spread across her face. "No touching?"
Mary's hands were shaking too much that she'd be unable to call upon the air should she need to. Her breathing was starting to grow ragged and she looked around frantically, eyes catching on everything that wasn't someone else's gaze. She quickly shook her head.
"What's your name, dear?"
"M-Mary," she choked out. Her eyes were burning. Was she about to cry or had she forgotten to blink? "Mary MacDonald."
"Mary, is there a reason you don't like touch? Is someone hurting you? You don't need to answer, of course, but if you need help, just tell me what I can do."
The waves crashing far below felt like a roaring in her ears. The breaths of everyone around her, the crunch of footsteps on pebbles, the distant shouting from the market, the conversations of tourists around the cliffs that Mary only half understood, the smell of salt, jurda, fish and whatever else was being sold- everything was overwhelming. One by one, each smell, each sound, each touch piled onto the thin board she was holding above her head, bending and threatening to crack under her shaking arms. Each sensation added to the heat rising under her thoughts, threating to fry her mind and send her tears boiling over.
Mary was helpless as the flood gates opened and streams of tears raced down her cheeks. She frantically wiped them away as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. What am I doing? You don't even know these people.
"What's wrong, dear?" Effie whispered. She looked pained- whether it was out of empathy or disgust, Mary didn't know. But something about the way the woman said it, like she'd never had a judgemental thought in her life, had Mary rambling.
“Everything. Touch, smell, sound. Everything is too close, too loud, too vibrant, too crowded. My senses are in overdrive and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. I need to leave but I've no where to go."
A pitying look flickered across Effie's face. "Is there anyone that has you hesitating to leave? A sister, brother or parent, perhaps?"
Supposedly, one of the guardians at the boarding house was Mary's mother. She didn't know which one and whoever she was, she never tried to get close to Mary. She didn't have a sibling. The girls in her room would be thankful for the extra space. The only one's who would suffer from her dissapearence would be those who relied on her abilites. And even then, there were other zowa around.
Mary shook her head.
"You could come with us, if you like." Effie offered.
Mary let out a pained noise. "If I can't handle the market, how should I handle a ship with no where to escape to?"
"We have plenty of room," James said. "And as Dad nears retirement, most of his crew is leaving to make space for mine. If you don't like it, I promise we'll turn straight back to let you off. Though, there are many nooks and crannies on a ship to hide in, if it gets too much. I can show them to you. If you decide you like the ship, you could stay as either a permanent residant and snag a profited position on my future crew or you can leave the next time we dock."
Mary hesitated. From what she's heard, ships are very limited in space. She could barely handle sharing a room with five other girls. She has no idea what it'll be like sharing a space with an entire crew. But Mary has also heard of the freedom a ship could provide. She's always enjoyed the water and there'd be so much wind on a vessle like that. Mary looked down at her hands. And a profited position? She's heard of zowa like her filling the sails on ships. Would that be something she'd like?
She glanced up, meeting James eyes. "Can I see the ship first?"
He nodded quickly. "Of course. Follow me?"
James led her down to the docks and aboard The Marauder, Peter and Remus tailing him at all times, even when Effie broke away from the group to find Sol. James gave her a tour, speaking in both Zemeni and Ravkan so all parties understood the conversation.
The ship was much bigger than she thought. The crew cabin - yes, cabin singular - was not what she was expecting. Mary had assumed there would be rooms smaller than that of the boarding house and beds to match with a handful of crew members assigned to each room. Instead, she found a large room bellow decks with tens of hammocks hanging from different structures and heights. The entire crew shared one room and each member had a hammock of their own - James, Peter and Remus had taken their time showing her their hammocks. Remus also tried to tell a story that had him and Peter gasping for breath and James red like a tomato but the Zemeni boy refused to translate it. She suspected she’d have to take up Ravkan to hear it. James had showed her to the most secluded hammock and told her it would be her's, should she join the ship.
James had also taken up on his promise and pointed out all the best hiding spots. There were quite a few of them, actually, and Mary was impressed. Remus and Peter seemed shocked, as if they, too, hadn't known about their friend's hiding spaces. He must really want you to join if he's willing to spill his secrets.
Mary was introduced to Fabian and Gideon - the two boys she had witnessed with Sol earlier - who happened to be Heartrenders. Apparently, the crew was more zowa than otkazat'sya, which she was surprised to hear about. She met their younger sister, Molly, and Sol - or Monty, as he insisted she called him. They were all very lovely people, Effie and Monty especially, and Mary understood why so many had taken refuge on their ship.
In the end, Mary knew what her answer would be. She knew from the moment she saw the ship up close, before she'd seen the cabin and all the hiding spots. In the end, Mary became the seventh member of James' future crew.
II: Andromeda
"Close your eyes. I have one last thing for you."
Andromeda instantly did as she was told, eyes falling shut and hands flying up to cover them twice over, the image of a blond, brown-eyed man still clear in her mind.
Andromeda slipped one of her fingers open and peered at Ted through the gap. The otkazat'sya boy turned, something held behind his back, and tried to give her an annoyed look but the grin on his face betrayed.
"Stop peaking!" He cried, shaking his head fondly.
Andromeda giggled as she tightened her fingers once more.
"Ta-da!" Ted said proudly and Andromeda opened her eyes.
She gasped at the bouquet of ruby red roses clutched in Ted's grip. She slipped it from his grasp, trailing her fingers along the delicate petals. "Ted- they're wonderful!”
"Your beauty puts them to shame." He said without skipping a beat. A bright flush spread across Andromeda's cheeks and she dipped her head to sniff the flowers to hide it.
"I- I don't know what to say. First, a date through Os Alta, then a picnic outside the walls and now these? Ted- thank you!" Andy lowered the bouquet and flung herself at her boyfriend, winding her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist. His hands flew up to catch her as he laughed, the sound more peaceful than bird songs and chiming bells on a Sunday morning.
"Anything for you." He murmured, placing a quick kiss to her cheek.
Andromeda faked a frown. "You missed."
He laughed again, tilting his head and locking his lips with hers. She hummed in satisfaction, the vibrations tingiling between the two of them. One of Ted's hands came up to cup her cheek and her fingers tangled into the base of his curls.
Andromeda bit back the whine building in her throat as Ted broke away, both of their chests heaving.
"Was that better?" He asked, thumb dragging over her bottom lip.
"Much." Andromeda replied, leaning forward in an attempt to steal another kiss.
Ted pulled back farther with a chuckle. Andromeda didn't try to force the annoyed noise to stay inside this time. Ted laughed, dropping her back on the ground. "Didn't you say you had to be heading back soon?"
Andromeda whipped her head towards the nearest clock tower, the hand ticking just fifteen minutes before eight bells.
"Saints!" She cursed, turning back to Ted to give him a quick peck to the lips. "Sorry, darling. See you Wednesday, yeah?"
He nodded, stole another kiss, smiled and waved her good bye.
Andromeda sprinted towards the Little Palace, hand clasped tight around the roses. She stopped only briefly to fetch her kefta from it's hiding place. The gates to the Grand and Little Palaces opened as she neared. She waved to the otkazat'sya manning them as she passed but continued on, rushing down the gravel pathway to the Little Palace.
She slowed down as she neared and more Grisha came into sights. She paused to slow her own breathing before stepping inside. Many Grisha of all Orders nodded as she made her way to the Corporalki corridors and then, finally, to her dorm. She pushed open the door and slipped inside, leaning against the wood as it slid shut. She sighed and lifted her flowers. They were a bit wonky around the stems now from her grip but were stil elegant, gorgeous and a reminder of her Ted.
"You're late."
Andromeda's head snapped up. Narcissa sat on her bed, kefta discarded beside her. She was leaned back on one hand, one leg crossed over the other and picking at her nails. She looked up slowly, grey eyes calculating and empty as always. Her platinum blonde hair fell into her face as she tilted her head, gaze flickering down to the flowers in her older sister’s hand and back up again to her eyes.
Andromeda cleared her throat. "The supper bells ring at eight. It is not eight yet."
Something akin to amusment sparked in her eye. "Off with Ted again?"
A heat licked at the back of her neck. "Maybe."
"You seemed to have forgotten we had lunch planned with Mother and Father. They were quite...upset when you were a no-show. I told them you were studying for your upcoming Fjerdan exam. You owe me five vlachki."
"But you knew I was with Ted?"
"Oh course I knew. You aren't very subtle."
Andromeda's brow furrowed. "You lied. You lied in a room of three other Heartrenders and no one picked up on it. How?"
"Andy...I'm a Heartrender. If you can't contol your own heartrate that's just pathetic."
Andromeda's mind flickered to Regulus but she shoved it away. She dug through the pocket of her trousers as she walked over to her bed. She slapped a bill into Cissa's waiting hand and set her roses on her side table.
"Those'll die without water." Cissa observed, nodding to the petals.
Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Thank you, oh wise one. Shall we create a stain glass window in your honor, ever knowledgeable Sankta Narcissa?"
Cissa shudded, a rare smile spreading across her face. "That sounds horrifying."
Andromeda's laugh was interrupted by the chime of the supper bell. Cissa heaved herself off the bed and gathered her kefta in her arms. Andromeda followed her all the way to the dining hall, vowing to get her roses into a vase once dinner had finshed.
"Cissy! Andy!" A much too excited voice called just as they were about to take their places beside Regulus and Sirius.
All four Blacks turned as Bellatrix sauntered over, an unusual bounce in her step and an extra craziness to her corkscrew curls. Andromeda frowned. This couldn't be good.
Sirius seemed to think the same. "Trixy," he said cautiously as she approached. For once, he ignored her scowl. "You're happy. You're only happy about torture and murder."
"I don't remember calling you, Siri," Bella huffed, turning her nose down at him and ignoring Regulus entirely. "I'm here to gather my sisters. Since Andromeda was too preoccupied to join lunch, we're having a make-up dinner in a assembly hall."
She turned and pranced out of the room. Cissa pat Regulus' shoulder before following, Andromeda right on her heals.
Once outside the dining hall, Cissa slowed down so she and Andy were walking side-by-side. She leaned in, whispering in her ear, "Remember what I said about lying." She pulled back and turned sharply into the assembly hall.
The assembly hall, typically used for large announcements and assignment distribution, was eerily quiet compared to the Great Hall. Instead of the loud rumble of chatter, a disturbing silence settled thick in the air. Druella and Cygnus looked up from their quiet conversation and over to the large white doors as their daughters filled into the room.
Druella smiled, a genuine smile that was so uncommon within the Black family it was almost more unsettling than her aunt's cold stare. Cygnus tried to keep his expression blank - he always had more trouble masking emotions than his sister - but his lip pulled up the tiniest bit, the smallest of grins on his face.
Andromeda hated the pride that flowed through her, knowing she and her sisters were the reason for that grin.
"Mama, Papa." Bella greeted, still grinning, as she plopped down next to their mother.
Cissa kissed both of them on the cheek before taking sitting next to Cygnus and Andromeda exchanged nods as she settled next to Cissa.
"Lovely of you three to join us." Druella said pleasently, though Andy didn't miss the glare sent her way.
Cygnus hummed in agreement. "It's a pity you had to skip out on lunch, Andromeda, but alas, your studies are important. How was studying? Prepared for the exam?"
Cissa gave her a hard stare out of the corner of her eye. Control your heartrate.
Under the table, Andy pressed three fingers to her radial pulse point, urging her heart to continue it's slightly sped beat.
"Studying was helpful, Papa. And yes, I feel I will pass the exam."
"Nothing under ninety-eight, yes?" Druella asked, a fire in her eyes.
If there was one thing Druella and Cygnus Black expected of their children, it was perfect grades. Cissa was flawless at meeting their expectations, Bella less so but what she lacked in intelligence she made up for with her ruthlessness in the field.
Things were always harder for Andromeda. She didn't want to be stationed out on the Fjerdan lines, searching for their drüskelle. She didn't want to be stationed anywhere, actually. Many might say she's selfish - she lived in the Little Palace, after all! She had everything at her fingertips - but she hated life in the Second Army. She was forced through hours upon hours of lessons, shaping her into a model, shaving down her personality until she was the perfect, mindless soldier. She was given no choice, forced to serve a crown who wouldn't think twice about sending her into the arms of Death. So, in a miniture act of rebellion, Andy bunked off her classes. She got notes from her dorm mates and crammed hours of studying the night before a test. She avoided all conversations regarding the future position assignments. Though, time was running out. Next year, she'd be twenty-two. She'd be sent out to the icy tundra that was Fjerda, where she'd spend the rest of her life killing Grisha hunters.
Andromeda never wanted any of it- her ability, her kefta, the food and comfort of the Little Palace. She wanted a small cottage, just large enough it fit her, a partner and a child or two. She wanted to have a view of the water, watching as ships from Kerch, the Wandering Isle, Novyi Zem and the Southern Colonies passed through the harbor. She wanted to wake up in bed next to Ted every morning, enjoy a cup of tea before heading down to work a regular otkazat'sya job. She wanted to come home to a daughter or a son or maybe even both racing around the living room. She wanted to be suffocated with hugs the moment she walked through to door. She wanted a kiss from Ted, to make dinner side-by-side with him, to take her children on walks along trails. She wanted to be normal.
But, of course, life could never be so generous.
"Of course, Mama."
Bella grinned, sharp teeth flashing in the lamplight. "When did you finish studying, Andy?"
Andromeda frowned. What does she know? "Just after five bells. Why do you ask?"
Cissa reached for the bottle of red wine, offering to pour both Cygnus and Druella a glass. They both accepted, of course, and Cissa gave herself a glass before setting the bottle down.
Bella's smirk seemed to only grow more wicked. "Funny. I checked the library after lunch - around three and a half bells - and yet, you weren't there."
"I didn't go to the library. I studied in my dorm, away from distractions."
"I thought you might. That's why I confronted your roomate, Lani Nazyalensky, to confirm. And imagine my surprise when she said you hadn't been to your dorm since seven bells this morning."
Andy curled her hands into fists. Fucking Lani. "What are you implying, Bellatrix?"
"I think you slipped out of the Little Palace to see someone. Someone...who is not Grisha."
Druella gasped, sharp eyes turning to Andromeda. "Andromeda Vinda Black! You are not having relations with an otkazat'sya, are you?"
"Of course not, Mama." Andy said calmly, glaring daggers at Bellatrix from across the table.
Cissa took a large gulp of wine.
Bella's grin grew. "And that's a lie. Your heartbeat wavered."
Shit.
Cygnus slammed his hands down on the table, rattling their untouched plates. "Andromeda! We've raised you better than that! No Black should ever associate with that level of scum. How desperate can you get, turning to a muggle?"
Now it was Andromeda's turn to gasp. 'Muggle' was a new term floating around Grisha supremacists. It was a vulger term for otkazat'sya, a disgusting word for ordinary, plain. She stood up sharply, chair sliding back. She gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white, as she leaned over to tower closer to her father. "Don't you dare call him that."
Cygnus stood and Andy's height advantage was gone. She didn't care. This was one battle she would never turn over and let her parents win. She stood her ground, meeting Cygnus' furious eye with a gleam of determination.
Slowly, that anger dissipated and a condescending look of pity took it's place. "Oh Andy," he said softly and Andromeda was reminded that Cygnus was just as manipulative as every other Black. "This is just a phase. Soon, you'll realize that he's inferior compared to you. We'll find you someone much more suitable. We hear Rabastan Lestrange is ready for a wife. His brother, Rodolphus, has already shown interest in Bellatrix. We can arrange a double-wedding and it'll be perfect," he reached out a hand, brushing through the stands of brown hair that had escaped from behind her ear. "It'll be everything you've ever wanted, darling."
Andromeda snapped away, relying on the racing of Cygnus' cold, deciving, lying heart to ground her. "No! It won't be what I've always wanted. What I want is to leave this wretched castle and you! What I want is to live out my days with my otkazat'sya, not another Grisha for miles!"
Cygnus tilted his head. "Oh, love. He's already got you wrapped around his little finger. What will you do when he leaves you, finds a girl like him, someone who'll understand him and not a pathetic, ungrateful Grisha girl?"
He's lying. He's lying. He'slyinghe'slyinghe'slyinghe'slying-
Andromeda turned on her heal and stormed out of the assembly hall before she could say something about the plan forming in her mind. She ran down the corridors to her dorm and threw open the door. She dug through her trunk, throwing clothing articles everywhere until she found her rucksack. She began stuffing it with essentials- hygiene products, extra clothes, survival utilities, that sort of thing.
Someone slipped into the room after her and shut the door with barely a sound.
"You're leaving." Cissa said. For once, Andromeda caught a snag of sadness in her tone.
"Not much else to do. They'll confine me to the castle, to the house. I'll never be able to talk to anyone else again, not until I'm their perfect little heir. They'd figure out who Ted is, what he does, where he lives, all his family. They'll hunt him down and obliterate him. The only thing left to do is run."
Andy swung the bag over her shoulder and turned to head out the door. Before she could reach the knob, Cissa's hand shot out and gripped around her elbow.
"Stay," she said. Andy's eyes flickered to her's in surprise. Tears glistened in orbs of grey. Her hand was shaking but her hold stayed strong. "Please, Andy. Stay."
"Cissa, there isn't anything for me here."
“I’m here! I need you! You keep me sane, keep me from going mental like Bella or cold like them. You make everything bareable. You're the lighthouse admist a storm, showing me through the seas of life. You carve the path that I’m so eager to follow. What am I supposed to do when the waves come crashing, when the bulb burns out?" Tears spilled freely down Narcissa's face, a type of vulnrable Andromeda hasn't seen since they were kids. Cissa sunk to her knees, clutching at her sister's hands and peering through curtains of blonde. "Please, Andy. Stay for me."
A large part of Andromeda wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. She wanted to stand at the wheel of that ship, steering Narcissa to clear waters when she needed. She felt the tug, felt a future forming in the back of her mind. Stay with her. Stay and be the big sister she needs.
But Andromeda felt a stronger pull, a fantasy that didn't seem quite so out of reach anymore, a fantasy with Ted.
So, Andromeda pulled her hands away and stepped around her begging sister, pulling open the door and glancing back only once, watching through blurry eyes. "I'm sorry, Narcissa. But I have to go. I love you."
The door shut before Narcissa could say it back. As Andromeda sprinted back to Os Alta, searching for Ted's home, she shoved every thought of the family she was leaving behind out of her head.
Both sisters wept that night; one in the arms of a lover and the other in the sheets of someone she'd lost; one finally broken from a nightmare and the other's freedom just another object in a rucksack.
In both scenarios, a bouquet of wilting roses sat forgotten on a nightstand.