2014, NEW ORLEANS, THE DAY BEFORE THE SEVEN WONDERS
If she said she wasn't looking forward for her girls to perform the Seven Wonders, that'd be a ridiculous understatement.
A couple of years ago, when she had practically begged to the council, to Myrtle, to grant her the position of Headmistress so that she could prove herself a good witch, a witch who didn't run away like her mother… she never imagined she'd be leading four young women to their possible deaths. Because that was exactly what she was doing. She thought that she was so above manipulation and games, and yet there she was. None of them would be so willing if they actually knew what performing the seven wonders meant for a witch; for a soul. The girls had barely started to control their magic.
She doesn't remember girls as powerful as them when she was a student. They all have strong gifts, inherent power to them, and ever since Fiona came back, it's been amplified somehow. She doesn't think her mother was a great teacher, but what other explanation could there be for such a strong, although divided Coven? What she also knows is that her own magic, albeit not that great, has grown weaker, almost nonexistent. She hates being so useless.
As she woke up, the first thing she did was to lock all the girls up in their rooms under the made up rule that contestants for performing the seven wonders weren't allowed to see each other 24 hours prior to the test or some bullshit like that. She just didn't trust them not to kill each other, especially Madison, who was hell bent on that title. Also, that gave them a chance to prepare themselves a little and maybe, Cordelia could ease her conscience thinking they'd hone their abilities enough not to die trying.
She couldn't stand being cooped up in her room and decided to check on the girls without interfering. She realized what a futile exercise it was: she could sense that Madison was playing with telekinesis, her born power, in the bathtub. She let her be, not really rooting for the girl, and walked away. Queenie's door was next. On a good day, Queenie was dismissive of her position within the Coven. While they had bonded a little on the search for Misty, she knew Queenie resented them deeply. And right now, the resentment showed as she was gambling on Voodoo magic above all. She wanted to tell her to stop, that none of the Wonders involved Voodoo, but she'd be breaking her own rules. With a sigh, she decided she'd make herself some tea from her greenhouse, even if she burned herself trying.
She crashed into Zoe as she went down the stairs. She had a soft spot for Zoe because sometimes, the girl reminded her so much of herself when she came to the Academy, right down to the age she'd been when she got there.
"Hello, Cordelia." Zoe mumbled.
"Zoe, what are you doing? You are supposed to be in your room."
"I am carrying books from the library. Here, feel." She did as Zoe instructed. She was carrying a lot of books. "Are these okay?" she asked, as she finished listing off the titles, like she was just going to take a math test or something. Cordelia couldn't stand the thought of her youngest pupil, carrying all the wrong books and being so nonchalant about it. But she also couldn't do it. Every witch who performed the Seven Wonders went into it blindly. She herself wasn't supposed to know this much about it, but they haven't written yet a magical book she hasn't devoured and the topic morbidly fascinated her, as she'd never be able to partake in one of those ceremonies.
"Sure." Cordelia managed. "Now, go to your room and prepare for tomorrow, Zoe. Please."
Now, as her feet led her to the greenhouse, she wasn't surprised to hear Misty singing some Stevie tune, breaking the rules she'd set. She'd probably be twirling around with that shawl that wouldn't leave her shoulders now, that beautiful smile she got to witness a couple of times lightning up her features. She remembers Misty from those couple of days she could see the clearest: huge, goofy grin as Cordelia taught her the base of everything Misty could do on instinct and together, they accomplished greatness. It was rare to meet a witch with such a gift for botany and while she never felt lonely in her sanctuary, it was greater to share it with someone who understood.
Misty had one of the purest souls she'd ever had the chance to meet. Gifted with the second sight, she saw her plight: the pain and betrayal, the incredible strength it took to bring herself back to life, the knowledge that everything happens for a reason. A longing for human connection so strong it could have blindsided her if she wasn't so familiar to that feeling herself. No desire to take revenge on those who harmed her, but a peaceful, isolated existence in the swamp where those who needed her help seemed to find her without her moving a finger. She was obviously fascinated by the other witch; whatever she had, to Cordelia was true magic.
As she heard Misty recite an incantation she had taught her to make flowers blossom, she felt a sudden impulse to wish her luck, but it died on her lips. The fate of being the Supreme felt like something too dark and heavy for the free-spirited swamp witch to take on and for the first time, she wished it upon someone else. She couldn't stand for Misty to lose even a bit of her inherent goodness and beliefs.
"Hi, Misty." Cordelia called out softly, realizing she'd been lurking on the shadows for too long.
Misty stopped twirling abruptly when she saw the Headmistress standing in the entrance of the glass doors and almost banged her body against the table. With a bashful little grin, she looked up.
"Oh, hey, Miss Cordelia! Was I singing too loud?"
"No, don't worry. You have a really nice voice. Although I already knew that, from the time we spent down here together." Cordelia replied, smiling with fondness and a strange kind of delight at how much that music and this place represented Misty. How much she treasured the memory of them working together.
Trying for a stern attitude, she told her: "I thought I said everyone should be in their rooms."
"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry! It's just that this place helps me relax and I'm really loaded on the heebie-jeebies right now." Before Cordelia could say anything, probably agree wholeheartedly, Misty was already dragging her by the hand. "And look! I've been making the plants grow so fast, Miss Cordelia! Sorry, I didn't mean to say look, you know what I meant… I just wish you could see them." Misty exhaled happily. "It makes the greenhouse look like my shack back at the bayou. No offense, but I kind of miss it there."
"I certainly wouldn't blame you for that, Misty." Cordelia said with a mirthless chuckle.
"I think that's why you like it here too. Here we don't remember all the crazy going on up there." Misty says with a little shrug.
Cordelia can't help but smile; Misty's mind is so simple and yet so wise. And the way she behaved… she remained kind to everyone without being an excessive pushover as shown yesterday when she forgot all her magical skills and just straight up punched Madison in the face. She was also the kind of person who didn't become jaded, but was still able to figure out Fiona's bullshit and stand up to her, a trait Cordelia wished she possessed. Misty was pretty damn admirable in her books.
"Oh, Misty" she says with a sigh. "You are such a wonderful contradiction, did you know?
"What do you mean, Miss Cordelia?"
"I told you that you can call me Cordelia," she says with a roll of her eyes under the glasses she wore now at all times. "All the other girls do."
She liked Misty Day, that much was obvious, and she wanted them to be friends. Because she was much too old to be falling for one of her pupils. Besides, there was no way Misty would even look at her in that manner. She was damaged goods. She was a coward, she had done everything wrong. She had gouged her eyes out with her goddamned garden shears and her now dead husband had tried to kill them all.
"You were saying, Miss Cordelia?" And then Misty laughed. "It comes from a place of caring, Miss. From a place of respect."
Cordelia couldn't understand how this girl who came out of nowhere, seemed to genuinely respect her and her magic, the only one who listened when she offered something to teach. She shook her head from her thoughts and took Misty's hands between hers and spoke frantically.
"Out of the four of you, you'll do the job with the fear it needs to be approached. I'm not supposed to show favoritism, but I believe you'd make a wonderful Supreme. Queenie is good enough and God knows we owe it to the girl, but she's too gullible, too quick to switch sides and you can't make that kind of mistakes when all of your kind is looking for your guidance. And Zoe, she's so young. And if Madison Montgomery is truly all we have left then I swear I don't want to be around to see what she does to this place. My mother was the youngest Supreme in history, you know?" She said randomly, knowing she was rambling. "She was only seventeen but she could already destroy the world."
Misty had started to squeeze her hand at some point of her rant and she could feel the warmth the other girl exuded as shots of electricity through her veins.
"Oh God, Misty, I can't." She said in a trembling voice. She felt Misty move closer to her, holding her against her body. Cordelia melts against Misty and she lets go of the stress-caused tears. She tries to feel embarrassed about crying and showing weakness, but there was no point. She was just so, so goddamned tired of the uncertainty.
"Delia." Misty's voice calls her out and she smiles at the use of the old nickname. "You don't mind me calling you Delia, huh?"
"No," she chuckled, sniffling a bit. "I actually love the way you say it."
"Awesome" Misty says playing with her fingers on Cordelia's hand and the older witch slightly tenses. "I think that you'd make an awesome leader. You should be our Supreme."
"That's simply not -
"Try the Seven Wonders with us." Misty tells her, daring her to do the impossible. Cordelia's heart beats wildly in her chest, for reasons she can't comprehend.
"Misty, you either are or you aren't a Supreme. It's not something you can achieve. My mother has at least, left very clear, that I am not her successor."
"But she didn't see what I see. I don't think she wanted to. I've felt your magic and it is goddamn strong. It's just… all over the place, Delia. And it goes beyond powers… you don't disrespect any area of magic any of us could excel at. You know us." All Misty receives is silence. "You should at least try," she leaned in to whisper. "I just don't want it to be Madison."
They were impossibly close. Cordelia could feel Misty's breath tangling with hers as she mumbled: "I do feel all over the place."
"May I?" Misty asks, reverence in her tone. Cordelia lets her. After all, she'd done it for her. The glasses come off and she expects Misty to pity her like Myrtle does, to be ashamed of her like Fiona did. But as always, this girl she's known for such a short time seems to know exactly what her soul needs.
"You are still so pretty, Delia. This should make you Supreme on its own" Misty mumbled. "I bet I wouldn't look that pretty if I had no eyes."
Cordelia couldn't help but laugh at that. Misty's bluntness made the bad things sound funny; the older witch was starting to think that maybe she just found everything about Misty endearing and what a dangerous position was that to be at.
Cordelia cradled Misty's face with her hands.
"Promise me you will be great tomorrow, Misty. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happens to you."
"I promise." She says easily. "Now you promise me that if I fail, you will try the Seven Wonders. Promise me that you will believe in yourself like I do."
"Misty, I can't do that…" Cordelia mumbled dejectedly.
"You have to! You said it yourself, Delia! The Coven won't survive with Madison in charge." Misty said with a shudder. "Can I tell you something? I've been having this dream, that when this craziness is over, I take you to my shack and I'll show you around… Because I was so alone in there and now I found my tribe. Stevie wasn't her best self until she found the others, but while I like some of the others, even Madison, you were the one who taught me, who didn't see me as a swamp rat and, I think I'm on the way to find my best self, Delia, and there's no one else to thank but you. Umm, there's this beautiful lake in the back where we can spend the day. I know it's not much but–
"Sweet Jesus, Misty. It sounds perfect." Delia interrupted the girl, with one of her lip-biting smiles. Her voice was uneven, and she tentatively brushed Misty's lips. "How can I not love it, if it's your home?"
Misty didn't reply and did what felt natural to her: she finally closed the gap between them and kissed the older woman, smiling wider at the surprised gasp she elicited from her and how she just seemed to melt into the kiss. Cordelia dared herself to have hope for a minute because Misty couldn't taste any sweeter. She kept kissing the girl everywhere she could; she knew that Misty, who grew up sheltered, wouldn't be as experienced as herself, a fucking divorced widow, but of course, Misty's raw talent extended to every area of her life. She was making Cordelia feel things that Hank wasn't able to achieve in almost four years of marriage. It's when the shawl that seems etched to her skin falls to the ground with another item she can't identify, that Cordelia seems to gather her senses.
"Misty, we can't," she finally said, already feeling like she ruined a perfect moment.
"But… you like me." Misty says confused. "And God, Miss Delia, don't I like you…"
"You are my student."
"I am older than them. I am 26, Delia, didn't you read my file?" Misty replies, cheeky this time.
"The shack sounds really nice." Delia says, not able to face Misty. All she wants is to keep kissing that girl, to take shelter in the calm before the storm. She wants to lose herself in white magic and promises, but she has to think of the Coven.
Cordelia braced herself for more excuses, but Misty, ever the perfect person to her needs, decided to leave her alone.
"I'll be waiting," and the girl leaves with a lingering kiss on her cheek that leaves Cordelia trembling.
2014, NEW ORLEANS, AFTER THE SEVEN WONDERS.
Misty dies in her arms and a part of her dies right there. Her soul is trapped in hell. They lost Zoe, too. Madison kills a fly and successfully brings it back to life in front of everyone and the Coven's future is apparently in the bratty girl's hands. Things couldn't have gone any worse.
And then Myrtle talks to her, but it's not her words that make her take the plunge. Misty is the one that makes her brave. And the swamp witch who stole her heart is guiding her through, test after test, letting her know that she will make something good out of this mess.
A couple of months pass by, she's even made peace with her mother and let her part gracefully, feeling loved for the first time by the woman of her nightmares, but she's not happy. She's empty. Even when the halls of this place are filled with people as they were in their early years. She can't feel happiness at Zoe growing a backbone and just like her, finding passion at teaching. She doesn't care about Kyle finally acting like a normal human being, surprisingly gentle and charming, or Queenie confessing she's actually really good at math, and wants to go back to night school.
When the Academy is bustling, she realizes she can't do it alone. She has no doubt in her mind that Queenie and Zoe, the survivors to all that mess that befell them, deserve to be her Council.
They find out that Madison is dead, and they have no idea who killed her or where the body might be. They don't look further into it and Cordelia barely feels guilt over it. Zoe seems relieved and Queenie is slightly distraught, but lets it go, and continues to ace night school and introducing the ways of voodoo, the way it should really be used, to a new generation of girls.
After months of autopilot, she finally musters up the energy to bring Myrtle back. She never intended to give the last seat of her Council to anyone else and so, she went along with dear Myrtle's rouse, her eccentric, loving Auntie Myrtle who didn't deserve to die in flames. And Cordelia needs her: she wants some piece of familiarity as she finds her footing as Supreme. She goes back to the witching burning grounds, where she holds Myrtle's preserved body, exhausts herself performing Vitalum Vitalis and later that same day, she pardons her in front of the entire Coven.
Somehow, she thinks Myrtle knows. How broken she is, how empty she feels. And if she thought she'd feel comfort in the other witch, she feels lonelier than ever. After she's brought the redhead witch back, she starts to spend her nights crying and being the most she's been like her Mother her whole life, as she drinks herself to sleep and she starts to indulge in pills to get through the day.
It doesn't make sense.
That she never shed a tear for her husband after she knew of his betrayal and yet she can't properly function the way she's gotten by her entire life because she lost a student in a routine trial. But who is she kidding, Misty was not a student. Misty could have been her Rhiannon (yes, she listens to a lot of Fleetwood Mac these days).
She was so stupid when she took life for granted. That Misty would be there the following day. It was her punishment for being so selfish, for being so coward, for never growing up from that weak girl under her mother's pressure, who knew she could move the bed if she put her mind to it but wouldn't do it because Fiona would criticize her, or throw her against the wall with a flick of her wrist.
Almost a year had passed after she became Supreme and lost Misty Day (the two were as equally important in her mind. Utterly embedded with the other and her Kingdom was built on her beloved girl's ashes), when she discovered something that had the power to completely send her over the edge if she let it.
She'd been watching the girls teaching their lessons and she began noticing things: Zoe could no longer do telekinesis at will, or worse, kill with her mind. She went back to mere Black Widow status and spell-casting witch. Queenie could not even revive a dead bug they found on the table and once upon a time, she had breathed life into life herself; into Misty. Her swamp witch had been right: she had been all over the place. She had been so careless that she had been feeding magic, her magic, unto these girls when they weren't ready. She hated her mother for making her so stupid, so hard on herself that to Cordelia, the thought of the only daughter of a powerful Supreme being a Supreme herself was as absurd as finding a way to travel to Jupiter, but not as much as she hated herself for believing into that crap.
She vowed that no one, not even the weakest, most insignificant girl among them, would die under her watch. She'd listen to the confused ones, meet up with the ones who wanted the Hogwarts experience just so they'd get it out of their systems, she'd teach with all her might when she found true power.
She was the fucking Supreme, and it was time to truly act like one.
2018, NEW ORLEANS.
And she does it.
Cordelia becomes quite the perfect Supreme. Devoted to her Coven as if she had taken a vow, they'd say. She would teach her girls to balance witchcraft with the outside world. She learned to believe in her power and knew she had enough to destroy the world, like her mother when she was alive, but respected and feared the position of Supreme enough to never try it. Her Mother would call her a coward, playing it safe. Cordelia had never felt braver or more confident in her life and knew if Misty could see her, she'd be proud.
It's 2018 and while the initial flurrying of witches, or girls who thought they were witches, had dwindled, she still had a lot of appointments. She had lost Queenie, but she wouldn't give up yet. Never on another girl of hers, as her Coven was one of happy endings. Girls would graduate, having learned to control their powers. They'd come back to visit, some of them good enough to teach the new ones while they stayed at Miss Robicheaux, which was a home; the sanctuary it never was for Cordelia in her younger years. Zoe was a friend now, an equal. She'd be marrying Kyle, her loyal and grateful boyfriend, at the end of the year. And right now, they had the most promising pupil they've had at the Academy since, well, Misty herself. A girl named Mallory with brazen innate magic. Zoe was obsessed with that girl and when Myrtle told her what she could do, it reminded her too much of Misty.
She could tell you that it's been almost five years. Four years, eight months and… right, five days since Misty was gone. Being Supreme. One led to the other and vice versa. She tried not to keep count, because she was a proper leader now. She was a respected woman at last, admired, and who earned the trust of those who knew her.
All the energy she put into being the best Supreme she could possibly be got her through her darkest days, and now she honored Misty's memory in so many things she did, but quietly. She no longer took spontaneous trips to hell that would leave her drained for days. She didn't fall apart at the sight of her things, and finally, got around to clear her room for new girls to come. She didn't stay up the night reading any possible ways to retrieve a soul and crying over Misty's soul because she found no answer. Once a soul makes a contract during Descensum, it's impossible to break.
While she promised herself she'd never forget Misty, she had started to become a dull ache. A memory of impossible happy days, her very own piece of heaven where she'd go to in her sleep.
And then that cursed Michael Langdon happened.
2018, ARIZONA. THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA'S WARLOCK ACADEMY.
When he showed her how he did what she couldn't, bring back her girls; Queenie, whom she'd missed so much and even Madison, the flicker of hope in her heart reignited. There was a way to get Misty back from hell, even if she wasn't the one who did it.
And even though she knew he was dangerous, that there was something off about him and needed a proof of the nature and extent of his power, she didn't push the boy for entirely selfless reasons. And if he brought back Misty, it would change everything. She didn't dare hope, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity. Myrtle was seething, but Cordelia didn't care. Zoe and Queenie were obviously concerned, exchanging knowing glances, as they had seen her mourn Misty at her worst. Madison was just rolling her eyes, the two didn't get along much, but still, the anticipation of seeing the lost witch was palpable even in her.
She didn't know if she'd survive having Misty ripped out from her side, again. So when Michael came back, and everyone was already pronouncing him as having failed the Wonders, she wasn't thinking about Supremacy or the end of the world or whatever hell that boy would bring. "Where's Misty?" she asked, terrified.
"C'est la vie, Cordelia." Madison muttered and glared at the warlocks.
"No, you were supposed to bring her back! To bring Misty back!" she was starting to shout, her body moving on her own towards the boy, wanting to strangle him and order him to go back, when he raised his arm from the chair he was sitting. As he did so, the other girls gasped. A flurry of dust was gathering fast, taking human form and Cordelia let out an inhuman noise when she saw Misty, naked on the ground, and then the short, black dress with the shawl Stevie had given to her, taking form and covering her body. Just like the day she had descended to hell. Just like Cordelia remembered her.
There are no words to explain how she felt at the sight of her beloved witch. She just fell next to her, to gather her in her arms, as she had when she turned to dust and disappeared from her life.
"She's not opening her eyes." Zoe mumbled.
"Is this a trick? You brought just her body, just an empty shell?" Myrtle asks, venom in her voice.
Cordelia was openly crying. She picked up Misty in a crushing hug and then, as if she was the one taking that first breath, she felt the air fill her lungs. Misty exhaled chokingly next to her ears and Cordelia pushed her back to see her. Misty had her eyes wide open in horror, but held the other witch tightly. "Misty, my dearest Misty." Cordelia sobbed.
"Oh my God." Zoe whispered, tears in her eyes. Queenie was caught in a fit of nervous, happy giggles.
Misty wasn't crying. She just held Cordelia, soothingly drawing a pattern on her lower back. She wouldn't speak, just stare reverently at her. Finally getting some of her senses back, Cordelia distanced herself from Misty but never stopped touching her, fearing she was a mirage, although her soul was still that bright, pure, golden thing she loved so much and would recognize anywhere. It was unmistakably her.
As soon as she held eye contact though, Misty started tearing up. "Am I?" she stuttered, her voice broken and lost. Cordelia could only nod giddily, touching her eyelashes, her lips, her hair, until Misty caught her hands and intertwined her fingers with hers.
"Your eyes, they're beautiful" she whispered, breaking Cordelia's heart and making her whole, simultaneously.
"You were right. You were always right." Cordelia was shaking, and it should be Misty, the one weeping and broken over hell, not Cordelia, but as Madison had said, c'est la vie. She didn't want to frighten Misty even more, but couldn't help herself. "God, Misty, you're here. I'm so, so sorry."
"Girls, as happy as I am to have Misty back with us, this is not a good thing." Myrtle finally broke the moment, an utterly heartbroken look in her face.
Cordelia glared at her as Misty blinked, confused. The poor girl probably had no idea it had been years on hell, and while her soul was intact, of course it was, her mind and therefore, her powers were a different matter altogether. Misty was the shadow of the powerful witch she'd been, that Cordelia could feel. "Can you stand, yeah?" Cordelia asked eagerly, not letting go of Misty as she nodded and helped her up. The shock of Misty, standing beside her, was another thing she didn't see coming. Cordelia bit her lower lip and Misty's eyes sparkled for a split of a second, giving her a tiny smile. She was about to do something crazy, like kiss her senseless, her hand already fisting in her beautiful curly hair, when Queenie laughed.
"I just can't believe it, I'm sorry." Queenie blurted, a bit embarrassed. "Come here, Misty, hug your girl too."
"Go," Cordelia motioned with a wave of her hand, "I'll be here." And Misty let herself be held by Queenie, and then by Zoe and even Madison gave her a quick sidearm hug with a snide remark, and Cordelia was so happy, so, so happy she could float, when she felt like the ground was sinking beneath her. A cluster migraine formed within seconds and she heaved and coughed, spitting out blood.
"My sweet child…" Myrtle muttered, already fearful of what she knew Cordelia did for love. Misty locked eyes with Michael and her powers, always so tuned to the true essence of people, spiked for the first time since she came back. She almost keeled over as well, but from the evil that boy radiated. They said something, about conceding, about rising on the Blood Moon, but neither of them were listening. When the men left the room, Misty said out loud what everyone was, at some level, thinking.
"Miss Cordelia, no…" Misty was horrified, gaping at her as she held her arm. "You gave up your powers, for me?" the other witch pressed on, shocked and worried.
"I'd do it a hundred times over, if I had to, Misty." Cordelia said reverently. "But it's not that, I am not my Mother. I have a plan…"
And then she fainted, for the second time that day. Misty thought that Hell had a whole new different meaning now. One where she has to watch Miss Cordelia fade and die, because of her.
Cordelia woke up, still in those strange dungeons. The musty smell and the sinister vibe of the warlocks' headquarters were hard to miss. But this time, she was in a bed, in a comfortable room, lit by the fire of the nearby chimney. At least they'd give their Supreme a proper place to rest.
She slowly stands up and sees that Myrtle has fallen asleep on a very uncomfortable-looking chair.
"Myrtle?" Cordelia asks in a panic. "Where is Misty?"
The woman startles when she wakes up, but Cordelia doesn't care.
"Don't you want to know where Madison is? The rest?" Myrtle asks with a knowing look. "She's in the kitchen. She comes back from hell and the first thing she wants to do, is make you tea."
"Oh." Cordelia blushes, and immediately goes into overprotective mode. "Why is she there alone?" She is moving for the door when Misty busts it open. Cordelia hovers over her, and Misty guides her to the bed again. "It should be me, taking care of you, Misty."
"I'd never mind," she replies, holding her hand as Cordelia seeks contact, eyes never leaving her face. The need to be closer to the younger witch is overwhelming.
"What is it?" Cordelia breaks the silence, and her voice is deep and sensual. It elicits a shiver of pleasure down Misty's spine. She can't stop marveling at how real Misty feels, at her rough hands from a lifetime of gardening feel like, the feeling of her long curls brushing against her hand. It's amazing, and it terrifies her. She is absolutely sure, now that she's here, that she can't lose Misty Day a second time.
"Lipton's."
Cordelia and Myrtle both give her amused looks, and Cordelia sips her tea, never letting the other witch stray from her sight. When she speaks, tears spill from her eyes and Misty mirrors it. "I've missed you forever, you know?"
"You should have left me there," Misty replies with a sad, sad smile.
"What? Why?" Cordelia asks, not being able to imagine a world without Misty now that she's here. She can't think of the fight ahead of them without her strong, swamp witch. Perhaps Misty doesn't want to be with the witches, with Cordelia…
"That man you sent to fetch me… Michael? He reeks of evil. He wears the perfume of death. He's like…" she shudders as she searches for the words to describe it. "Rotten flesh? I don't know, but, you know how part of my powers involved sensing the soul out of a person? When I revived Madison, that was the hardest thing I've ever had to do because she was almost too far gone… but Michael really has no soul. He's a type of evil I've never felt. I can't feel his thread of life but at the same time, if I stare too much at him, I grow weak. I think my powers clashes with his." Misty finishes and Cordelia is afraid, very afraid.
Myrtle and Cordelia talk about the necessity of having him think he's going to be the Supreme, but how she'll never let him and the advantage he's given them in each other. Cordelia seems to be leaning into the loyalty and strength of her Coven, into the wit she has and all the love she's been storing and just brings out her best self yet. Misty is looking at her as she speaks, transfixed and in awe, a look that makes Cordelia feel more alive than she has in years.
"Delia?" Misty interrupts the older witches and they both smile at the nickname and the last conversation they'd had around it. "You really are the Supreme."
"I guess so." She replies, an old shyness creeping back in her manners.
"I am glad you are finally seeing yourself the way I always saw you." Misty tells her and her smile is one of those she'd missed, one that takes her all the way to the greenhouse and Cordelia feels warm in the knowledge that not even Hell itself could break this woman.
Myrtle takes that as her cue to leave the room, and sighs, muttering something about love.
"I heard your voice in Hell." Misty tells her. And Cordelia raises an eyebrow in shocked confusion. "Sometimes you wanted me so much, that I could feel you. I heard you, calling me back and those moments were a saving grace. My mind was almost never there, but the few times I had a respite from dissecting all those poor frogs and the taunts of my classmates, it was because of you. I knew I wasn't getting out of there but it made me feel like a person. Like my time on Earth had been enough if I found my tribe after all… if someone loved me like that." Misty's voice breaks and she can't talk anymore.
"Dear Lord" is the last thing Cordelia shakily says before she crashes her lips against Misty's. Cordelia feels like she's drowning in a dream so wonderful it'd be devastating to wake up from. She is magic, quite simply. All the beauty in the world… she can see it, she can feel it. Misty breaks the kiss with a chuckle and Cordelia steals another one, greedy in a way she hasn't been since, ever.
"I still think you could have figured out all of that stuff you talked with Myrtle without bringing me back…" she mutters quietly, but puts her arms around Cordelia's waist and a hand on her already-protesting lips. "But how can I not be grateful I'm not in there anymore? That I'm with you… That I'm home."
"Sorry it couldn't be the greenhouse, or even the House's foyer you woke up to. Oh God, your shack… I've never forgotten about that." Cordelia tells her, brushing her hair off her face and caressing her with impossible tenderness.
"You're my home, Delia."
Cordelia pulls her closer and she takes off her shawl with utmost respect, and then unzips her dress. She is not wearing any sort of bra, and Cordelia marvels at what she sees. Misty presses herself against Cordelia, desperately, and they kiss until they both gasp for air. At some point, Cordelia loses her clothes as well and they are tangled into each other in the bed and everything is so, so right.
Cordelia Goode is certain of one thing in this world: that she won't let anything bad happen to Misty Day ever again, and that she will vanquish whatever threat Michael poses because Misty deserves to be happy, and most of all, free.