So this is my first TWW story, and the first fic I've written for absolutely ages so apologies if I seem either rusty or like a shakey starter, both are possible. I've been mad about Raquel Cassidy for absolutely years and it was mainly reading Hicsqueak fics that got me into TWW 2017.
This story is based around the idea of Pippa asking Hecate to come to the International Witching Conference with her. I'm planning a second chapter where the rating may go up too, if you'd like it.
She's never quite known where she's at with Pippa Pentangle, she reflects as she waves open the door of her hotel room and closes it behind her. Ever since they were at school, since that first startling realisation that what she was feeling was more than just friendship, it's felt like a formula for a new potion that she can't quite balance. Even before then, Pippa was such a whirlwind it was difficult to keep up with her. Whenever they're together, Hecate has always been enthralled by her, chasing after her and trying not to show it, determined to work her out.
With a wave of her hand, her dress cloak is hanging in the cupboard facing the bed. She still has her dinner dress and the sleeves come to her elbows, so she's not cold despite it having a lower neckline than she'd usually consider. She inspects her appearance in the mirror. She removes her hat, its ridiculous without the cloak. She smooths her hands a little anxiously over the velvet of her dress. It will have to do, it isn't as if there's time to change. At least her hair is still in place.
She closes her eyes so she can't see her reflection and takes a few breaths to calm herself.
Hecate doesn't particularly like not knowing where she's at with anything. She wants to know. She likes rules, and codes, and order, and above all answers. She does not care for chaos. That has to come with a caveat though - she acknowledges ruefully, sitting down on her bed – because there are certain notable exceptions. There is no way you could not call Pippa a kind of chaos, and there is no way you could say that Hecate doesn't care for her.
She knows that for sure now, at least there's certainty in that. She always did, even when they were estranged. It makes her skin start to creep with panic if she thinks about how, but for chance circumstances, their paths may have never crossed again and they might never have reconciled. It seems unthinkable now, even with the distance between them, Pippa is very much part of her life now, and so much the better for it. That too is certain.
The week they've spent together at the International Witching Conference has certainly been an affirmation of that. She'd been unsure when Pippa had suggested they go together, it was only Pippa who'd been invited as a speaker after all – Hecate had spoken last year – and she wondered what Ada would say about her taking a full week away at the height of term. With a little smile, Ada had said she thought it was a tremendous idea and she was sure that the school would have all its walls when Hecate returned. Hecate wasn't so certain, what with Mildred Hubble around. But nevertheless, she was glad now that she'd taken the suggestion to come here. Pippa is chaos but she is a clever clever witch, and it's a treat to see her in action, giving talks or demonstrations. It's even better when the session is over and Pippa makes a beeline over to Hecate, leaving the inevitable cluster of admiring witches as quickly but as gracefully as she can, her eyes meeting hers across the room as her swift steps close the space between them and as Pippa reaches her hand out to take Hecate's arm. She's definitely glad she came.
But then there's this chaos she feels whenever Pippa's around, whenever she even thinks of Pippa. This week had been difficult as it had been delightful. Even with the excitement and pride it brought: catching sight of her between seminars, little smiles as they met in the hall before breakfast, a pang of jealousy she felt if she saw her chatting away and laughing with other witches. Absolute chaos.
Just earlier, for instance. There couldn't have been a clearer example of the disconcerting, dizzying feeling that Pippa wrought in her than what she'd felt earlier at dinner. It was the penultimate night of the conference, and as on every other night, they'd sat at a table together. Most of the other witches at their table had left. Pippa sat opposite her, and she half expected her to get up and follow the others down to the garden for drinks or through to the library where they were playing games.
Pippa sat still, giving no indication that she intended to move. She was comfortably arranged, her left arm reached out leaning on the chair beside her, bent at the elbow. Her cloak fanned out over her shoulder, but Hecate had a clear view of slender arm, pale against the red of her cloak and dress. That was another thing: she was wearing red, not pink. She was bathed in warm light from the lamp of the table, and she was wearing red.
She was watching Hecate, with that familiar look on her face. Like she was up to something, like she was about to smile.
"What are you doing tonight after dinner, Hecate?"
Something in the tone of her breath made Hecate draw a ragged breath, something in the look on her face did.
Hecate was quiet for a moment.
"You don't make that sound very much like a question," she replied carefully a moment later.
It sounded like an invitation.
Pippa laughed.
"That's a fair thing to say," she acknowledges softly, "But you didn't exactly give me an answer either, did you?"
Touché, Pippa.
Hecate bristles just a little.
"I don't have anything planned," she replies, "Did you have something in mind?"
If she thought the look on Pippa's face had been prevocational a moment ago, it was nothing on the one when was wearing now. Her heart started to beat like a tiny bat was trapped in there, and never entirely slowed.
She's waiting for Pippa now.
In a sense, hasn't she always been?
She's been waiting for what feels like forever for answers to all of this - this overwhelming, incomprehensible feeling - from Pippa. There are things which, for her, only Pippa can answer. Of course, she'd tried to look for answers herself, it was like a compulsion in her to solve what she could. While she'd been looking, she'd read somewhere that love was the feeling that a witch had once felt when she flew up and up until she was at the gates of heaven, only to find them closed in her face. The thought still brought a sting of tears to her eyes. Lord, she hopes that's not the answer.
There's a knock at her door.
She swallows a little before she calls out, "Come in."
Of course, she knows who it is.
A moment later Pippa is there, closing the door behind her.
She walks into the light, out of the darkness by the doorway. She has also shed the cloak she was wearing at dinner. Her dress has no straps. A decisive red satin line neatly separates skin from dress. Her shoulders and the top of her chest are bared to Hecate's gaze, the beautiful line of her collarbone.
Pippa takes another step forward. Hecate can see her Pippa's eyes taking in her expression, her lips parted slightly in astonishment.
For a moment they are silent, just looking at each other. Then Pippa speaks.
"Hecate," she says softly, seeming to savour her name and then, a note of imploring in her voice, "Please don't run away."
Let me know if you'd like that second chapter ;)