A/N: Thanks again to The_Big_Wee_Hag for beta-reading this! All remaining mistakes are mine.

Chapter 21: Tests

Vania paced in her room. She ran a hand through her hair, knowing that her braid was halfway undone. She growled in frustration, and pulled her hair loose.

As she did, she looked out the window, and paused in surprise.

It was getting dark outside. She had been pacing for several bells since returning from the trip to the temple this morning.

She took a deep breath, and imagined the calm surface of a lake like Kel taught her.

It had to be done. There was no turning back now. She had told the First Daughter at the temple, for goodness' sake. She had to tell her father.

She didn't quite remember the walk to her father's study. Her mind warred between calm lakes and fierce storms of disapproval and rage. What would she do if her father disapproved? Would he pull her out of knight training? Would he keep her away from Emmy? Her mother wouldn't let him do that, would she?

But what else could she do? Could she wait further, when she was planning to tell the court that she planned to serve the Goddess after she got her shield? Could she keep lying to her father?

"Your highness." The servant at the door to his study bowed deeply. "Please wait a moment."

Vania nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

Soon enough, the servant emerged again, and held the door open for her. Vania strode through it, trying to stand as tall as she could.

"Vania!" Her father smiled warmly, walking out from behind his desk. "What a lovely surprise! Come, have a seat!"

He reached out to put his arm around her, but Vania ducked not too subtly out of reach. His face fell.

"Father," Vania said, barely keeping her voice from shaking, "there's something I have to tell you."

He mustered a smile, one tinged with wary. "I figured as much. We've barely talked in the past two months." He gestured at the two armchairs in front of the fireplace, separated by a small round table between them. "Let's sit down."

Vania avoided his eyes as she followed him to the armchair. They sat down without another word. To Vania's surprise, he started pouring tea for the both of them from a pot on the round table. Vania had always been the one to do this, though she suspected that her hands would shake if she were to attempt it now.

She took a few more deep breaths.

He set down the pot, and watched her expectantly.

She tried to look her father in the eye, but her mouth would not work. So, she looked down at her cup of tea, wrapping her hands around it.

"I know you would be thinking about my marriage soon," she began, "but there's something you need to know."

"I'm listening." Her father said quietly.

"I… I can't marry a man." She blurted. "I don't like men. I like women."

She heard a sharp intake of breath, but she kept her eyes resolutely on her cup of tea. She could see her hands shaking, causing ripples in the tea.

The silence seemed to stretch on.

"Vania…" Her father finally said. Vania had never hear him so hesitant. "Are you sure?"

Vania finally looked up, her eyes shining with tears. "Yes. I'm sure."

Her father's face was lined with shock and sadness. It was the same face that had beamed with pride for her on the night she made squire, the same face that was always open and kind for her no matter what they talked about, even when he had to be stern. Vania had never seen this look on her father's face before, and she felt a little as if the ground was unsteady beneath her feet.

Her father looked away. Vania blinked and wiped her tears quickly. There was no turning back now.

"Do you know what this means?" Her father said, staring into the fireplace.

Vania took a ragged breath. "Yes," She said firmly, making her father turn to face her, "I've spent nights, months, thinking about what this means. It means at best, I would be a scandal, bringing shame to the family. At worst, I lend fuel to our enemies, giving them more excuses to rally people to rebel against the Crown."

She thought about the temple visit this morning, and felt a little more steady. "But I figured a way out. Aunt Alanna brought me to the temple of the Goddess this morning—"

"Alanna knows?" He asked sharply.

"Ye—yes. She — she found out."

He scowled. "When? Who else knows?"

Vania saw the anger in his eyes, and knew that she had to steer the conversation back. "It doesn't matter. The point is, there is a way for me to marry a woman without causing a scandal. There is this ancient order of knights called the Crescent Moon, they serve the Goddess above all else —"

"— Even above the orders of the king?" He said with narrowed eyes, and Vania knew that she was speaking to the king now.

She kept her eyes on the king's. "Yes, only when the orders conflict with the Goddess' teachings. They were a highly respected order, father. And they can marry whomever they want to, men or women alike. If I can join this order —"

"What happened to them?" He cut in, his fingers drumming on the table in impatience, "If they are as powerful and respected as you say, why haven't I, or anyone else heard about them?"

Vania swallowed. "The First Daughter said it's due to the same reasons as why female warriors died out. The cult of the Gentle Mother, the changing laws, selective records of history, the likes. It doesn't matter. Aunt Alanna has already changed many of these things, I can revive this order.

"Think of all the good I can do! I wanted to be a knight to serve the realm and show that girls can walk their own path. If I can revive this order, I can show them that it's part of something bigger, that it's part of the Goddess' will —"

"Be very careful about what you think is the Goddess' will," He said firmly. He stood up, and walked towards the fireplace, resting his hand on the mantelpiece. "Alanna should have taught you that."

"She did." Vania said quickly, and he turned his head a little to indicate that he was listening. "The First Daughter said that too, and Alanna agreed. But what I meant was, not everyone can join the order. There is additional training to be done, and there is a final test at the end. The test is strict, so if I pass the test, I can claim some form of credibility —"

"Do you know what this test is?"

Vania clenched her fists. "No. I have to visit the temple in the City of the Gods to find out."

"Is it dangerous?" He asked, his grip on the mantelpiece tightening.

"I guess. First Daughter Serenity said people have perished during the test. But so have people who attempted the Ordeal of Knighthood! I'm sure I can —"

Her father whipped around, and strode forward to grip her by the shoulders. "You're sure? You don't even know what the test is!"

He let go, and started pacing in front of her. "All I've ever wanted for you was for you to be safe and happy. First, you wanted to train for knighthood. Now, you want to sign up for another Ordeal that sounds just as dangerous!"

Vania stood up, standing as tall as she could. "I'm signing up so that I can fight for my own happiness! I want to marry a woman, father. And I'm not the only woman in Tortall who wants to do so. I've been —"

Her father's face had softened, and Vania stumbled on her words, "I've been struggling for so long to find a way out of this. I don't want to bring shame to the family, but I don't want to give up my own happiness either! I've finally found this! I just need you to let me —"

Her father strode forward and wrapped his arms around her, and Vania let out a sob.

He tightened his embrace, and it was as if the floodgates had been opened. For the first time in years, she could be completely open in front of her father, and she let go.

She cried for all those nights she had spent worrying about what her parents would think; she cried for those first few months when she had resented this part of herself; but most of all, she cried for her younger self, who would have done anything to please her father.

"I'm — I'm sorry," she gasped between sobs, "I'm not like Kally, or Lianne."

"Vania, sweetheart," His father's voice was a little choked, and she felt him press a kiss on top of her head, "You don't have to be like them. You're my Vania. Just be Vania."

Vania nodded fiercely into her father's shirt, hugging back just as tightly.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that, but when she had finally calmed down, her father pulled away gently. He produced a handkerchief from somewhere, and Vania giggled as she took it from him, wiping her cheeks quickly.

He nudged her to sit back down before following suit. "We have a lot to talk about. But first, tell me, is Emmeline your lover?"

Vania snapped up, eyes wide.

He chuckled softly. "Don't look so surprised. I'm not blind. And your cold shoulder in the past month made me wonder how close you two really are."

Familiar hints of anger bubbled back up, and Vania looked away.

"Do you blame me for what happened to her?" He asked carefully.

When Vania first found out, she had had so many words for her father. But right now, the feeling of his love and acceptance was still fresh, and she couldn't summon them.

"Alanna told me she volunteered."

"It doesn't mean you should have let her." Vania said, her voice quieter than before.

"The alternative was to let the alliance fall. You're smart, Vania. I don't need to explain the consequences to you. I made the best decision I could. I am sorry that it put Emmeline at risk. I'll reward her appropriately when she comes back."

"If she does," Vania said with a hint of bitterness, finally turning back to look at her father. "It's not just about her, father. Handing over a person like that, like some sort of bargaining chip — isn't it against what we stand for? We've never allowed centaurs to keep slaves. Why did we hand over Emmy so quickly?"

He leaned back with a sigh, turning to look briefly at the fire. "It was either her, or sixty-three commoner children, or the countless others who might fall if the alliance fails. Emmeline — Emmy was brave to volunteer. She understood what was at stake."

Vania stuck out her chin. "Are you saying that I don't?"

Her father stared her down. "No, you don't. You're clouded by your love for her. It may sound callous to you to weigh one life against others like arithmetic, but that is what I have to do every day. One day, you'll have to lead men into battle, and you'll appreciate what I mean better."

Vania bit her lip, trying to hold back her hurt. She felt young and foolish. Had her mind really been clouded by her feelings? Would she be able to make the right decision when the time comes? Was there a right decision to be made?

The silence stretched on for a few more moments, heavy with a gap that she could not bridge.

"Well… do you want some cake?" Her father finally asked, snapping Vania out of her thoughts. "I'm feeling peckish, and I'll need some food in me if we're going to discuss this plan of yours about reviving the Crescent Moon order."

Vania noted his slightly uncertain smile, and knew that he was trying. Despite her confusing thoughts, he had taken the news quite well, and had surprised Vania by wanting to talk more about her plan.

In the past few months, her impression of him had been changing — from the great king and father who could do no wrong of her childhood, to a ruthless and manipulative king who would offer up a human life without flinching to protect an alliance. But after their talk today, Vania realised that he was both, and that he truly wanted her to be happy. She still did not quite know what to think of the king in him, but she knew in her heart that she loved her father, and she hung on to that.

She smiled back. "Cake would be nice."

Between her recovery and the endless note taking, Emmy had lost track of time. She no longer knew what day it was, until one day she walked into a very solid pole.

She yelped, touching her throbbing forehead.

As she frowned into thin air, Skora's materialised right in front of her. She took a few steps back in surprise.

"And so the potion wears off." Skora declared, frowning at Emmy. "It had been four weeks since you took the potion. Did you notice any changes in the past few days? Could you see me clearly, still, or had the spell started to fade?"

Startled, Emmy tried to think about the past few days. It felt like any of the days in the past month, and Skora did have that green tinge around her the whole day. She shook her head. "It was exactly the same, I could still see you clearly."

Skora hummed a little, her face pensive. "Interesting. Either way, it's safe to assume that Silversmith managed to brew a better potion than we did. Our potion incapacitated you for almost a week. If he had to do this every month, he must have developed a version that is less damaging to his body, unless he could afford to be bed-ridden for a few days every month. Add that to the notes."

"Yes, Skora." Emmy said, dreading the answer to her next question, "Do you want to figure out what exactly he did?"

Skora scoffed. "No need. Just knowing his starting point is enough — you took the notes yesterday. You know we have a good way to counter his spells. We no longer have to fear him. Now all we need is practice."

Emmy nodded as Skora studied the notes spread out in front of her, wondering what the immortal had in mind for practice now that the potion had worn off in Emmy. Skora had been using Emmy for testing by simply performing different spells and checking if Emmy could still see her. The results were uneven — some spells changed the colour that Emmy saw around her, some spells made Skora blink in and out, some made Emmy's eyes hurt.

But a few days ago, Skora had finally come up with one that would consistently cloak herself from Emmy, achieving the same level of effect that their normal spells did. It had something to do with the orientation of the spells, Emmy barely understood half of it as she took the notes. Nonetheless, she was as excited as Skora had been, wondering if this meant that she could finally go home.

It did not. Skora had continued to test different version of the spells, and teaching her children how to perform them with Emmy as a guide. The sudden crowd of spidrens into the cavern had scared the wits out of Jenny, unfortunately, just as the healer was starting to get used to living around Skora.

But at least Jenny was still alive to be scared. Over the past month, Emmy had learned that Skora did not want the Crown to find out what she had been up to until she perfected her spells, and she had no plans to share them with the Crown. With both Emmy and Jenny knowing so much, Emmy dreaded what the spidrens had in store for both of them. Emmy would likely get away because she was needed, but Jenny was a widow who lived by herself…

"Brew me another batch of the potion." Skora suddenly said, flipping another page of notes to the side with the tip of her silver claw, "I want the healer to take it this time."

Jenny, who had been sitting by the side of the cavern and preparing some herbs, gasped in surprise.

Emmy stared at Jenny's shaking frame, and turned back to Skora. "I can take it again."

Skora raised an eyebrow as she regarded her. "You know it won't kill her."

"It's not a fun experience." Emmy said grimly. "I know what to expect now. I can take it."

"This is not Silversmith's potion," Skora reminded her casually, going back to her notes, "we don't know if it will kill you the second time. And I'm in no hurry to explain to the Lioness why her squire had become weak and sickly."

Emmy opened her mouth to argue, but to her surprise, Jenny stood up.

"Emmy," Jenny's voice was shaky, but her eyes were firm, "it's all right. Let me do it this time."

Emmy shook her head quickly. Jenny might not be thinking about how this would end for her, or how Skora had no reason to keep her alive. "You're the healer here. You'll know what to do after I take the potion."

"I can give you instructions and prepare the herbs beforehand."

"But—"

"Skora," Fera appeared at the cavern entrance, and skittered inside quickly, her eyes glinting in excitement, "our scouts have found a rebel mage at a town to the south. She has only a small band of hurroks with her."

Skora rose to her full height, excitement and hunger in her eyes. "It is time for the ultimate test. Gather the coven. We'll head out and meet her."

"Yes, Skora!" Fera said, and skittered back out, almost gleefully.

As Skora turned to leave, Emmy quickly stood in front of the immortal. "Skora, do you plan to confront her at the town? There will be people there, and a mage battle with spidrens and hurroks will be dangerous. People could get hurt."

"This is my chance at avenging my dead children!" Skora hissed, "You'll do well to get out of my way!"

"She's not Silversmith —"

"But she is his ally, one who took the same potion. We need to test these spells with a real mage before we confront Silversmith! I like that you have your values and you have the spine to stand up for them, but I have mine! I vowed to avenge my children, and I will not break my word!"

Emmy trotted after Skora, wrecking her brain for ways to keep this from becoming a disaster for the townsfolk. "What if she could lead you to Silversmith?"

Skora slowed. "Then I will make her talk."

"Just let me listen in first," Emmy said, a plan quickly forming in her mind, "I can blend in with the townsfolk. I'll watch her and see what she's doing, see if we can get any information to find Silversmith. I'll lead the townsfolk away when you confront her. We all get what we want."

Skora eyed her for a moment, then turned back out. "Fine. Find someone who's willing to take you. I will not slow down for you."

"Yes, Skora!" Emmy ran over to her bedroll and bag as Skora exited the cavern.

"Emmy, are you sure this is wise?" Jenny asked worriedly.

"It's my best chance at making sure the townsfolk are not caught in the middle." Emmy said, grabbing her sword and digging around her backpack for her short knife.

She was just about to run out when she paused, looking back at Jenny. She grabbed Jenny close, whispering urgently in her ears. "When we're gone, run. Don't go back home. You know too much. Skora wouldn't want you to live."

"But —"

"I have to go." Emmy turned and ran, praying that Jenny would have enough sense to heed her words.

Skora was addressing her entire coven of thirty-odd spidrens when Emmy reached the entrance.

"… use only the new spells I taught you. Now is the time to show these mages that we are not to be toyed with!"

The spidrens growled and snarled in agreement.

Skora turned to Emmy briefly. "The human will scout ahead. She will watch the mage and gather information about Silversmith. Now move out!"

Skora led the way, and Emmy quickly looked around to see how she could tag along. Gron, who had been the kindest to her so far, caught her eyes, and came towards her.

He turned his back to her, and bent as low as he could. "Get on!"

Emmy eyed the giant black furry body, finding no visible footholds. She muttered a quick apology, and stepped on one of his legs to push herself up. His furs were surprisingly smooth, and she struggled to find some place to grab on.

Gron grunted when she grabbed a fistful of fur and held on.

"Sorry!"

"It's fine." Gron grumbled. "Hang on tight!"

Emmy had no choice but to obey. Gron had fallen behind, and he made a big leap forward, climbing halfway up a tree. Emmy almost lost her grip, and she squeezed her arms and legs around Gron just in time. He moved forward quickly, his eight legs a blur around Emmy as he leaped from tree to tree.

Harsh, cold air hit Emmy smack in the face, and between that and the shifting sunlight and skyline as Gron leaped about, Emmy had to squint. She wanted to close her eyes, but the after a stray branch cut her cheek she kept her eyes open, leaning as close as possible to Gron's body.

Before long, her limbs had gone numb, and she barely had any idea which way was up. But she clung on for dear life, and prayed that she would not fall to her death before they reached the town.

In what felt like a lifetime later, Gron finally slowed down, and the world settled around her.

It took her a few moments to register the snickers around her.

"Is the human still alive?"

"We should have eaten her before her blood was frozen."

Gron shrugged pointedly, and Emmy pushed herself shakily up by her arms. Her teeth was chattering in cold, and she slipped and fell onto all fours into the snow. Miraculously, her cloak and weapons were still on her.

"Fera has taken a quick look while you took your time to get here." Skora's voice said, and her large shadow appeared in front of Emmy. Emmy looked up to see her looking down at her impatiently. "There are two expensive looking horses in front of the inn down this road, one of them likely the mage's. Her hurroks are in the woods on the other side of this town. We will stay away for half a bell, or until when we see her leaving the inn. When we move in, you won't see us, but the horses will know. Do what you must."

Emmy had pushed herself to her feet, testing her numb legs as she listened. She nodded, knowing that this was the most that she could have bargained for.

She pushed herself forward, limping slightly due to the numbness in her legs. As she looked down, she realised that her cloak and sleeves were torn in more places than she had realised. She touched her face gently, and her gloves came away with a few more streaks of blood than she was expecting. It must had been too cold for her to feel the cuts. What a sight she must look.

But she mustn't draw attention. She pulled her cloak more tightly around her, and pulled her hood over to cover her hair.

The inn was at the end of a street going down the other way, and Emmy approached it from behind. She peeked around the building, and saw a street that was bustling with people trading their wares. It was no Corus market, but there were easily twenty or so shops down the road, with a scattering of stalls propped up against some of the shopfronts. It was close to noon, and there might be more people coming out for their noon meal soon.

To the left of the building was a makeshift stable. The inn itself was a modest two-storey wooden structure, and the two expensive horses with their beautiful saddles looked completely out of place.

The backdoor opened several feet away from her, and Emmy almost jumped in surprise. A man holding a pail in each hand walked out towards the opposite direction, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She quickly snuck into the inn before the door closed fully.

The inn was spacious, with about twenty tables or so, most of them occupied. Emmy scanned the room, and saw a table near the fireplace to the right that was occupied by two well-dressed people. Luckily for Emmy, the table behind them was empty. She quickly strode over and sat down as casually as she could, with her back facing their table.

"…miss Corus?" One of them, a man, scoffed, "Only snobs who can't think for themselves would miss that place. I'm done."

Emmy frowned. There was something familiar about that voice.

"Oh? I am flattered." Rowan Nightingale's voice was unmistakable, even though it was strange to hear her sound coy and not murderous. "You came all this way just for me, then?"

Someone stopped in front of Emmy's table. "Can I get you something?"

Emmy remembered to use a deeper voice just in time. "An ale, please." She muttered, and held her breath until the innkeeper walked away. She couldn't tell if he had not seen her face or the state of her clothes, or if he just did not care.

"…glad to hear of your work in the fall." The man was saying.

"Is he now? I am glad he did, even if we did not succeed."

"You rattled them, and forced them to abandon their immortal allies." The man said, and Emmy realised with a start that they were talking about the attack the royal party, the one that led to her stay with the spidrens. "We're expecting the alliance to fall apart once spring breaks and word gets around."

Emmy smiled in grim satisfaction. They did not know about her paying the price, and keeping the alliance intact.

"Once it does, it will be chaos. They'll be so busy running around trying to keep the alliance together that they won't see us building an army under their feet."

"Hush!" Nightingale whispered fiercely, "Did you want everyone to hear what we're doing?"

The man laughed. "Here? These townsfolk couldn't care less about things like this. All they care about is having enough to feed their families —"

A tankard of ale was place unceremoniously in front of Emmy, and she nodded her thanks distractedly.

"— Even if they find out, it's easy enough to keep them quiet." The man dropped his voice, even though he couldn't keep his smugness out of it. "If you know what I mean."

Emmy frowned. The man's speech and arrogance hinted that he was nobility, and Emmy was sure she had met him before. But who?

"Indeed, I do know." Nightingale's said coolly, and Emmy wondered if the man had enough sense to realise that his companion was not a noble like him. "Anyway, let's get down to business. I'm told you have more funds for me?"

"You're no fun. Yes, yes, another shipment is coming in from Legann in two weeks. They'll be distributed across the usual spots in the city. It should be enough for you to hire another five hundred men."

Emmy clenched her fists as Nightingale sighed. "Sometimes I wish you could just give me coin."

"Well, it's not me you should be blaming. These men don't take anything other than jewellery. It's a pain for me to get all this sorted, mind. I'd give you coin if I could."

"I know. I do appreciate your support."

"I'll tell the old man that. I think you're doing the right thing. It's time someone set things right in this land."

Nightingale sighed, almost in exasperation. A moment later, there was a sound of something being placed onto the table. "Pleasure doing business with you. But I have to get going."

"What is this? I do have coin, you know. I can't let a pretty lady like you foot the bill. Here, keep it."

"Get…" Nightingale said slowly, her voice dangerously low, "your hands off me."

"All right, all right. I apologise, Rowan. I didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm sure you didn't."

A moment later, Nightingale's brown cloak brushed past Emmy's table as she moved towards the entrance.

The man tapped his tankard against the table loudly. "I want more ale!"

Emmy was torn. Skora would move in now that Nightingale was leaving, and it was time for Emmy to warn the townsfolk away. But she really, really wanted to know who the man behind her was.

All of a sudden, the horses went crazy outside. Someone started cursing, and the horses, chickens and dogs around the area all started making a racket, and people soon started screaming.

There was no time.

As people started standing up and looking out the shop front, Emmy stood up. "Everyone, leave through the back door! There's going to be a mage battle up front."

People turned to her, stunned.

Emmy pulled off her hood in exasperation. "Move if you want to live!"

Something exploded outside. At once, the people started scrambling towards the back door.

Emmy turned to her right, and saw that it was too late to hide.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in?"

Tibout of Runnerspring stood waiting, his sword at the ready.

A/N: Regarding Jon's reaction to Vania's confession, I'm not sure if it's what you are expecting. But if you're curious about how he thinks about his children now, you can see a glimpse of it in the companion fic, 'Duty is an old man' (you can find that on my profile). That short story is about Kally finding out that Vania was given permission to pursue knighthood, and it may add more context to the way he thinks now.