New story! Called The Fox and the Mist, and set in the 3rd season of AHS, this fic tells the story of Cordelia Foxx and Misty Day, two women who accidentally fell in love in the middle of a magical war, bitchy witches and death.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to American Horror Story.

Cordelia was in her bedroom when the memories started flooding her mind, making her fall asleep. In her dreams, she was still in her bedroom, a beautiful, small and comfortable space that she had loved since the day she had arrived to Mrs. Robichaux's. A ray of light illuminated the room and her bed was already made, a black and white dress laying on it. A pair of shoes was carefully arranged on the floor.

Every rose has its thorn, just like every night has its dawn.

Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song.

Every rose has its thorn.

The voice came from the bathroom, a soft whisper between the rushes that were happening outside of the bedroom. She remembered that day, of course. It was her first day at the academy. Her mother had just dropped her there, dressed in some kind of grey dress. She remembered that she had cried for hours. When she arrived there, Aunt Myrtle had told her to shower before meeting the rest of the girls. All of them were willing to meet the Supreme's daughter, Cordelia Goode, whispering and trying to guess what skills she would have, what kind of jewels she liked to wear or if she was as deadly as her mother was. All of them seemed to think that she had had the most wonderful childhood, a teenage girl surrounded by luxury, pretty dresses and money.

But they were so wrong. Cordelia couldn't be more different than her mother. While the eldest woman was hell in high heels, little Delia was as sweet as an angel. While her mother had deadly skills, she only could make potions. Everyone knew that green magic wasn't as deadly as essential drain or pyrokinesis, and she was the only student to not have a powerful skill. The sound of water falling had stopped minutes ago, and the bathroom door had opened. A younger self appeared through the door, her thin body covered with a towel despite the fact of already having her underwear on. Her wet hair fell on her shoulders and the towel fell to the floor. Cordelia looked at her younger self, thinking about how happy she had been when she arrived there. She felt useful, she felt free. The young witch reached out to take the dress, her hand trespassing her older self's body as if she was a ghost.

The scene changed. This time there was no younger self. It was her mother in the kitchen, yelling at her.

"You can't help me," she had said. "You can't help anyone. You're worthless. Hopeless."

Now it was Aunt Myrtle who was opposite to her, playing that stupid instrument.

"Your salad dressing is absolutely magic, maybe you could bottle it. Cordelia's Conjured Coriander Condiment. Or if you'd like a little getaway, maybe a job as a hostess on a cruise ship. You've got a lovely personality and you're always well-groomed."

She dissipated, and Queenie started talking to her now.

"Don't touch me. No offense, but since I left one witch is dead and another one is missing. You're just as weak as you've ever been. You might wanna take one long-ass vacation. Let somebody else run this joinder for a while. Now get out. Now!"

She opened her eyes, the only thing that she could think of was of how every single witch of the coven seemed to despise her, with the exception of some students and Misty. Misty was a good person, and had been the only one who had cared about her the first time she had lost her sight, from the first day they met.

Cordelia walked to where Zoe seemed to be talking to someone. It was a witch seeking safety, who tried to run away from someone. Cordelia extended her hand, and then they had touched. Unlike her other visions, Misty Day's touch seemed to make something run through her fingers and travel through her body. It was a white light, a light that fueled the blood in her veins, a light that seemed to awake her rotten heart. An unspoken bond seemed to have been made, and none of them wanted to break it. The next days, Misty had cared of bringing her tea and helped her with the housework, probably wanting to make a good impression. Misty's room was next to Cordelia's, and the blind woman could hear Stevie Nicks singing for hours. She knew why, she had seen Misty dancing in her vision. It had been two days after Misty's arrival when it had happened.

Cordelia was sitting in her bed, wearing a black dress. Her hands where on her lap, and her cane was next to the bed, waiting for her to get up and use it. The curtains were closed, the darkness filled the room. She heard someone knock on the door. For a moment she thought it was Fiona, coming with her black, expensive dresses, her jewels and her high heels to humiliate her as she always did. Or maybe it was some random student taking pity on her. Cordelia did not answer. The sound was repeated and the witch's lips tightened, until she heard a sweet, soft voice.

"Miss Cordelia?" said a voice from the other side of the door. "It's Misty. Can I come in? I've made some tea, and I thought you might wanna have a cup."

Misty. Of course she could come in, she was the only one, along with Aunt Myrtle, who Cordelia wanted to enter the room. Misty had been her greatest support since she had appeared in the school. When the younger witch opened the door and entered Cordelia's room, the blind woman felt better. She felt warm, she felt safe. And, for the first time in forever, she felt alive. And those were strange feelings for her.

"Yes."

"Okay." Misty said. "Whoa, this is very dark."

"Please don't open the-" she said, but Misty had already opened the curtains. "Nevermind."

"How are you today?"

"I've been better. Where's the teacup?" the headmistress asked, palpating the bedside table in a search for the cup.

"It's downstairs. It seems that all the girls are out, and I thought you-"

"I'm not going to leave my room today."

"Miss Cordelia..."

"Call me Cordelia, please."

"Can I call you Delia?"

"No. My mother calls me that." was all the explanation she gave her.

"Cordelia, I think you should try to go outside more often. Since I came, you only go to the green room or the kitchen, and then you come back here. And if you stay somewhere else of the house, it's because something has happened, and I don't want to see you like this."

"Misty, I really don't want to go outside."

"Why?"

"Because everyone feels pity for me. Everyone thinks that I'm useless, that I'm a burden."

"I don't think you're a burden." Misty said, sitting next to the woman.

"But you still pity me."

"No, Cordelia. I don't pity you. Why would I? I can understand what you feel."

"What?"

Misty grabbed the woman's soft hands, covered with black gloves. Both of them had been alone all their lives, Cordelia in a house full of girls and Misty in the middle of nowhere, until Zoe had found her. Everyone used to treat Misty in a strange way, asking her for favors and never returning them. But Cordelia was different. After a life time of loneliness and seeking refuge in Stevie's songs, Cordelia had offered her a room to stay in the academy. Cordelia had told her that she would be safe there, that no one would try to hurt her. And even if the headmistress was wrong about that, Misty trusted her.

"I think that you feel underrated, because no one seems to think that your skill is powerful. I think that you feel lonely, because people use to exclude you. I think that you have never felt loved, because your mother is not what people should call a mother, and your husband..." Misty stopped talking. Cordelia was looking to her lap, some tears falling through her face. "Oh. I-I-I... I'm sorry. Please… Please don't cry." The guilt of bringing the other woman to tears was making her cry too. Misty released the woman's hands and quickly went to hug her, trying to not to make skin-to-skin contact. Cordelia still hadn't achieved the full control of her new sight at that moment, and Misty didn't want to cause another painful vision to the woman. After some minutes, they separated. Misty grabbed her precious shawl and wiped the woman's tears with it, only to fold it and leaving it next to them. Misty wanted to stroke the woman's face so badly it hurt. Cordelia lifted her hands and cupped Misty's face in them.

"I won't cry anymore."