#AN: Goodness, but this has been a long time coming! And not just since the last time I published: this is another one of those chapters that was written in the very early days of starting on this story, long before the plot congealed. You might say I've been sitting on this one for... oh no, has it really been six years!? Time, please stop? In spite of that, this took a lot of work; sometimes, reworking things is as hard as writing them anew...

Chapter 26: Absolitude

Though it had been a mere three weeks and was broken up by various kinds of awful occasion, Louise had, perhaps subconsciously, expected that returning to the academy would signal a return to how things were, slipping back into the routine as though the ill-fated Albion expedition were a bad dream.

She had known something was amiss when she woke feeling cold. Tabitha, owing her voracious reading habits and studying discipline, never rose with the sun (especially when she had nightmares), and Kirche liked to languidly lounge and luxuriate for long lapses. So even if she wasn't the first to wake, she was nearly always the one to chivvy and/or harangue the other two into getting up at a respectable hour for breakfast...

And then she found the note:

Mission. Back soon.

-T

PS: Yoohoo! Kirche here, filling in the gaps because that silly blueberry didn't say nearly enough! Don't look at me like that, you should know our cute little Louise won't be able to just read your mind and understand. Now stop reading over my shoulder and let me finish. Where was I? Right, she was called away on a mission from that damnable uncle of hers and since I thought she should have some fire support~ I decided to tag along!

She didn't want to wake you because she knew you would insist on coming as well and the prospect of having you in danger again so soon after your recovery was... "unconscionable"! Right, that was- I mean, Tabitha! Why are you still watching me write! Shoo, shoo! Isn't she just the cutest thing when she gets all protective like that, though? Gah, she hit me! With her boomstaff! That thing is heavy! You'll kiss my booboo and make it better when we return, won't you, my peach? Uuu, she did it again!

But she is right that these little errands are usually pretty nasty and neither of us wants to put you in peril, not so soon after that dreadful incident we just went through. I'm sorry to take away your heated pillows, but I guess we'll have to make it up to you later. Waah, we'll be back in a jiffy, but I'm gonna miss youuuuu!

Rather than a signature, it ended with a kiss mark. (Kirche apparently produced natural lipstick, because who would put on cosmetics to ride into battle?)

And the course of her usual day, much as she hated to admit it, was a listless, irritating grind without the presence of both her familiar and the ChesTerrorist that had become a constant presence in her life.

As exhausted as the malaise of an atypically boring day had left her-

Since when do I think of a day alone as "atypical" anyway?

-her sleep (alone) did not come quickly. Why are they treating me like a burden!? I'm... Fragmented memories of the siege flitted past her mind's eye. ...They're right. I couldn't defend myself at all. Newcastle... no, the whole Albion voyage made that all too clear, she concluded glumly. In another time, a different Louise might have refused to confront the truth that she had only narrowly escaped death on numerous occasions. Her survival was not the result of her spellcasting talent or martial prowess or keen tactical mind. Her survival was an accident. A freak occurrence that she had done more to jeopardise than create. Her actions alone had nearly driven Tabitha to ruin for the sake of protecting her.

That realisation, when it came, hurt most of all.

The door to her bedroom opening caught her attention and she was elated to see Tabitha walk in! ... Until she saw the other girl's face, which was twisted in scorn. With a glare that chilled Louise to the core, she ground out a single word. "Weakling."

Kirche came in and shone a visage of loathing. "Loser." Louise's question died in her throat.

When Henrietta walked in, she merely flinched. "Zero." It was true, wasn't it? Since the summoning, she had allowed herself to pretend, but one success and one... catastrophe... was not enough to justify the airs she continued to put on and her only friends in the world had finally grown tired of humouring her. More people filed in, all reflecting disgust and hatred- her peers, her teachers, various castle servants, her family, it seemed like everyone she knew had come to get their digs in. She spotted the weaponsmith Tabitha taunted and the shipwright Kirche respected... her bedroom was rebelling, physics itself betraying her as the room had expanded to have standing room for hundreds upon hundreds of faceless Reconquista soldiers. Some people had even come more than once- an Eleanore for every year she'd spent at home, failing over and over and over again, was arrayed to one side, berating her. A heavy creak cut through the cacophony to tell her the door had opened once again and when no one came to stand before her catatonic self, she eventually worked up the will to cast a look in the direction of the portal to this room-turned-amphitheater.

She wished she hadn't.

Kirche and Tabitha, bloodied and broken, were there. Kirche had a large gash on her side, entrails bulging against the hand she used to hold them in. One of her breasts had simply been torn off and her other arm hung limp against her side. Tabitha was sightless as her eyes had been gouged out and she looked to have been gored repeatedly with a wicked horn. She leaned heavily on the bent remains of her staff to counteract the stump where her left leg had once been. As one, the macabre duo finally spoke.

"Useless." Their raspy voices came barely above a whisper but it didn't matter; she could hear them easily. "You let this happen. Useless. Useless. Useless!" The chanting crescendoed as more of the crowd joined in. It was all too much and she broke down sobbing but doing nothing to refute the terrible truth. She was alone now, because she was weak.

"Miss Vallière, please wake up, you're having a nightmare!"

The clear voice pierced the dream world and the arm gently shaking her body pulled her out. Ah. That's right. A dream. It was so obvious that's what it was. And yet... She threw herself at her saviour and cried harder than she could ever remember. Finally getting it out of her system, she realised she lost her composure and had required consolation by a complete stranger. Finally easing herself out of their - Her, she corrected herself. Definitely a woman. One with back problems in her future. - embrace, she found a familiar face smiling fondly at her.

"It's good to have you back with us, Miss Vallière."

"You're... that one maid." She was embarrassed to find she had never learned the girl's name.

Their meeting had been a happy accident.

On the very night Tabitha had first stayed with Louise, she'd had one of her intense night terrors that now kept her awake long after the rawness of it had waned. So after a firm reassurance that she would be back in just a moment, Louise stepped out into the corridor and nearly into a maid adjusting the lights on her rounds.

"Ah, excellent! You there, maid, fetch me a glass of warm milk. My familiar is having a hard time getting back to sleep." The maid with short black hair recoiled in surprise, but recovered with admirable grace, smoothing her apron and standing straight.

"Oh, good evening, Miss Vallière! Warm milk was it? Please be at ease, I will be back very soon."

"R-right. I'll leave the door unbarred; just bring it right in."

She scurried off with impressive urgency, but... it was only a guess, but Louise didn't think there was any fear. That wasn't the smile of someone scared of noble punishment? Probably? No time for woolgathering, I should be back with my... friend. And sure enough, the maid did return a few minutes later with the requested mug.

"Oh, good work," Louise remarked absently. "Here." Gingerly, she took the proffered vessel and gently eased it into Tabitha's hands.

"I'm afraid I must return to my duties," the maid murmured quietly, "Please leave the cup on the nightstand and the cleaning staff will take care of it on their rounds. Miss Vallière; Miss Tabitha, I bid you good night." Louise vaguely grunted in dismissal but didn't bother looking back over her shoulder. She had her priorities straight.

After that point, whenever Tabitha had a nightmare, it seemed the black-haired maid was always nearby, and always happy to drop what she was doing to help. It was a curious coincidence, but Louise appreciated the dependability.

And now she was here again, going above and beyond the call of duty even though Louise hadn't even asked her name. Well, don't I feel silly. Still rubbing slow, calming circles over Louise's back, the maid reached over to the nightstand and offered her...

A mug of warm milk. Numbly, she took it without really thinking.

"I..." At a momentary loss for words, she conveyed her surprise with her facial expression. "You... I'd like to know your name. I can't just keep calling you 'maid'."

"You certainly could, Miss Vallière. But if you can find it in your heart to call me by name, I would be honoured. I am Siesta," the now-named maid stepped back and introduced herself with a curtsey. "But before that, please drink up before it cools." Her demeanour reminded Louise of a big sister.

"Right, uhhh...Thanks... Siesta," She finished meekly.

"I had a feeling that would be necessary tonight, so I prepared it for the usual time," the maid - Siesta. She has a name. - explained, "though it's usually for Miss Tabitha?"

"She's... away. On... On family business. Kirche went with her. They wouldn't take me because they feared for my safety," she grumbled.

"It may not be my place to speak, but it sounds like they really care for you."

"Yeah, I suppose they do." Scooting over to perch on the edge of the bed, she felt a pang of loss that Siesta had pulled back. "I'm still not happy about being left behind. I'm fact, I'm worried sick about what they'll face without me." She sighed in defeat. "Look at me, a proud Vallière laid low by a mere nightmare."

"In the face of dreams, we are all only human," Siesta nodded sagely. At Louise's questioning look she continued, "It's something my grandfather used to say. A reminder that dreams have no rules and even less sense. Why, even I have dreams of flying in the open sky!" They sat in silence for several seconds before Siesta dared ask, "Would you like to talk about it?" Cheeky maid. Her reflexive irritation must have shown on her face because Siesta backpedalled quickly. "Apologies, that was out of line; my family merely says I'm a good listener often enough that it slipped out." Uncomfortable silence lingered. "Say, here's an idea: let's get you in the bath and get the sweat off."

It wasn't the most elegant of saves and still maybe a bit too familiar, but Louise was so exhausted physically and emotionally she was beyond caring. Nodding her assent, she allowed herself to be led through the dark castle to the baths. She mutely accepted the help out of her nightgown and then felt the gentle pressure on her shoulder guiding her into the bathing area and down onto one of the wash stools. She heard, rather than saw, a second stool pulled up behind her.

Deft hands began running a well-lathered sponge over her skin, dunking it back in the basin on occasion. When did she get that? Though Louise couldn't see her face, Siesta was enjoying her task if the pleasant tune she hummed was any indication. There was something relaxing about her presence. There was no talk about Louise being scrawny or malnourished or criticism of her... modest... bust; not even a stray teasing comment about the squeak she let out as the sponge glided past her sensitive peak. She let her eyes drift shut as she succumbed to the maid's - Siesta's. Her name is Siesta. - ministrations.

Body cleaned, Siesta moved on to her hair. Skillfully untangling the myriad small knots in the long pink mass, she massaged shampoo into her scalp and pulled it through to the tips.

"You have lovely hair," Siesta droned, her soft voice echoing slightly in the cavernous bathhouse. "It's thin, but you have a lot of it and there's this natural wave so it has a surprising volume. And so long, too! How long have you been growing it? Probably nearly ten years? Well maybe a bit less. You have a lot of split ends; tut tut, you need a trim. You're a pretty girl, it would be a shame to not to take care of your appearance. Now keep those eyes closed, here comes the rinse."

Louise did as directed, soothed by the idle talk. Were she not putty in the- in Siesta's gentle hands, she might have felt the need to take offense at the familiar way she was addressed.

"And now to finish things off, into the bath with you." It wasn't until Siesta settled into the tub behind her, and pulled her close, that she became consciously aware Siesta had disrobed too. But she was glad, as she relaxed into the figure behind her. It was... comfortable. And not just because of the padding provided by Siesta's ample bosom, either!

"Feeling better, Miss Vallière? Just let me know when you feel ready to get out."

Get out? Leave this blessed warmth? What a silly idea. Content to bask in the gentle attention, she snuggled closer, turning halfway to ease an arm around her protector. I haven't been this spoiled since Cattleya used to let me sleep with her years ago. I wonder when it was that I last felt so...

She couldn't find the words, and didn't honestly care right then. This simple castle maid had happily gone far beyond her calling when she really had no obligation to and it was so nice and warm and...

There was a gap in her memory between that bittersweet thought and realising she being dried with a big fluffy towel, another wrapped around her head to help tame the mass of pink hair. Another gap. She was wrapped in a thick bath robe and being herded back to her room.

The calm suffusing Louise evaporated in an instant as the woman she compared favourably with her sister turned to leave. It wasn't a conscious thing, but she halted Siesta's retreat by grabbing her sleeve.

"Miss Vallière, I really should clean up..." She faltered at the haunted look she received and the tiny plea that came with it:

"Please... don't leave me alone... Not tonight."

Sighing, smiling sadly, Siesta undid the ribbons that held her apron and smock.

"As you wish, milady."