AN: Dear readers, I'm sorry I'm late again. I did my best, and I'm not quite content with this chapter... but here it is nonetheless. Stay tuned till the end of the chapter for an important announcement!
Guest: Sorry I forgot to respond to your review last time! But thanks again! I always love reading your feedback. You make a good point about Arthur. I think that at the time, he was very shell-shocked between his father and Morgana, and he needed to cope with the problem at hand. But he is, of course, very worried about Gwen. Hope you enjoy the next chapter!
To my fellow Americans, I wish you all a happy Thanksgiving, and I hope you're all home with family and safe-especially any of you living in or around the Saint Louis area.
~Sandyy
"Rise and shine!" Merlin ignored Arthur's dramatic groan of protest. The blond rolled over when Merlin flicked the lights on.
"Go 'way," he mumbled. Merlin sighed and reached for a corner of his friend's blanket as he passed the cot.
"You'll be late."
"Don't care," Arthur responded. Merlin caught a brief glimpse of the dark shadows under his eyes before the blond had pulled a pillow over his face. Squashing a twinge of guilt, Merlin deftly tore the blanket off of his friend and tossed it onto his own cot on the opposite side of the room.
"Merlin!"
"Out of bed," Merlin ordered and pulled the blinds up. "You've spent plenty of time sulking in here."
"I am not sulking," Arthur growled. "I'm tired."
"If you're still feeling sick, you can go talk to Gaius. Otherwise, you can get your lazy arse out of bed," Merlin responded curtly. Arthur's cot creaked, and he sat up and glowered at Merlin against the pale morning light. It was an improvement, Merlin concluded. Better, at least, than the jaded look of despondency Arthur had worn when they first arrived on the base in the unmarked, windowless van.
"It's Saturday," Arthur muttered, dragging a hand over his face.
"Take it up with Rodor. He's given you a new schedule. You'll be up at six next week." Arthur's groan was muffled by the shirt Merlin dumped over his head. It returned promptly in a wad to collide with the back of Merlin's head.
"I can fetch my own clothes." Merlin's eyes narrowed.
"Well that fact isn't exactly in evidence right now," he pointed out. "I don't have to wake you up at all you colossal clot. The least you can do is accept the help without griping like a spoiled child."
"Clot?" Arthur's eyebrows rose in mild disbelief. "At least your insults are getting more… creative." Merlin scowled and sent the shirt back again with a little more force.
"Get dressed. You've got fifteen minutes till breakfast is over."
"Fine. I'm getting up," Arthur grumbled.
"Should've started with breakfast. That always gets you moving," Merlin observed, turning his back to search through his own closet. He grunted when Arthur's pillow hit him in the back but chose to ignore it. The old, dog-eared magic book was where he'd left it, closed and tucked beneath the new, clumsy looking boots Rodor issued him. He never liked going anywhere without it, despite knowing that no one else could read the hidden writing within.
"You coming?" Arthur stumbled trying to pull his last boot on. Merlin straightened up.
"Not today. Gaius needs my help with something. I'll catch up with you later." A brief moment of silence followed, and Merlin nudged his closet door shut with an impatient sigh. Arthur was lingering in the doorway with a quizzical look.
"Can't Gaius find someone else?"
"Why? Will you miss me?" Merlin quipped.
"Why would I miss you? I'm stuck in the barracks with you all the time," Arthur scoffed. Merlin shrugged.
"I'm sure Gwaine will go with you."
"I doubt our new American ambassador has time for insignificant things like marksmanship," Arthur muttered. Merlin rolled his eyes.
"Gwaine's hardly an ambassador. I'm not sure if you missed the part about him being sent here to stay out of sight of American press," he pointed out dryly.
"He might have mentioned that he was related at least." Merlin turned around and snagged Arthur's coat off a hook. Gwaine hadn't been too happy about the background check Rodor ran on him, and less happy still that he was now a highly prized member of the general's media campaign.
"He's staying here because of you, Arthur. And I don't think I'd mention it either if I was the disowned grandson of the president," he said bluntly, stuffing the jacket into Arthur's hands. "You should get going or you'll miss breakfast." Arthur still looked stubbornly displeased. He frowned at Merlin a moment longer before turning towards the door.
"Don't be late for training." Merlin flashed him a grin.
"Am I ever?" He caught the huff of annoyance before Arthur left the room still shrugging his jacket on and shut the light off behind him. "Prat." Merlin turned the light switch back up from where he sat on the bed with a little half-subconscious touch of magic then sat on the end of his bunk.
This installation was familiar by now. He and Arthur had been moved there a week ago from a larger base well outside of Camelot after Arthur's statement had been recorded and publicized. It was the product of Uther's defense increases during his years as Prime Minister—one of several small, tightly protected military installations within the capital city itself. It reminded Merlin of Uther's neighborhood at the heart of the city with the silent guards stationed at its gates only a few feet out from the front of the building. He had never realized just how much the gated neighborhood resembled a military base until now.
Outside the building, Merlin traced a path in his mind, through the gates and into the neighborhood, aware of the keen vigilance about him. There were few people outside the buildings, little space as there was between them since the installation was camouflaged amidst other offices and businesses. He'd done this before, but it still made him restless. The first time, Merlin had caused a disturbance slipping out through the gates and waited hours before things settled down and he dared to risk re-entrance. Now, he found it fairly easy to use a touch of persuasive magic to redirect the gate-guards' attention so he could slip out. But he still didn't like it. The easier he found it, the more he worried if another sorcerer might learn how to do that as well.
"Merlin." Merlin's eyes snapped open and the golden tinge faded quickly away. He scrambled to his feet, silently cursing himself for forgetting to close the door behind Arthur before he checked the path.
"Leon!" The older man held up a hand.
"No need to get up," he said. Merlin sank onto the bed again. It had been a scant few days since Leon had made his reappearance, insistent on his reinstatement as Arthur's bodyguard. He still bore the marks of the burn: some rough, reddened skin on his neck and the left side of his face near his ear and up to his hairline where the singed ginger hair was just beginning to grow thick again—reminders of how lucky Arthur had been. Leon still moved his left shoulder and arm a little more stiffly and cautiously than the other. Merlin set his backpack on the bed beside him, uncertain.
"Arthur left a minute ago," he told the Patronus. "Are you back on duty?"
"As of today." Leon's expression was anything but pleased. It was one Merlin had come to associate from his years in college with times when he and Arthur had done something particularly stupid.
"Is… something wrong? Arthur's gone to breakfast. I'm sure you'll catch up with him easily." Leon pursed his lips.
"I know where to find Arthur. I came looking for you, Merlin." Merlin groaned.
"Don't tell me Rodor thinks I need a bodyguard too."
"No." The way Leon shifted and clasped his hands behind his back spoke of discomfort. Merlin felt it too. He wrapped his fingers around the strap of his pack. He'd meant to be gone by now, already on his way to the meeting point.
"Is your side better? I can get you more of that ointment Gaius ordered," he offered. Leon was frowning. He shifted his left shoulder self-consciously and shook his head.
"I'm fine." He folded his arms over his chest. "I have the impression that you've been trying to avoid me." Merlin blinked, and his heart sank as realization dawned on him. "Merlin, I need to know what happened back in Oxford." Oh hell…
"I… don't think I know much more than you," Merlin said slowly. He'd seen very little of Leon since the Patronus was moved back to Arthur's location. It seemed like an eternity ago since the debacle with Kilgarrah, and he'd been hoping, as he cautiously skirted around any area Leon was in, that the man didn't remember enough to be suspicious.
"And yet Arthur and I are both still alive. That tells me something," Leon replied quietly. Merlin chewed his lip and risked a look up at the Patronus. He certainly had a different way of demanding answers than Arthur's blunt and brash persistence, but Merlin was no more comfortable with the situation than he had been with Arthur's iron grip on his arm.
"Arthur wasn't that badly hurt."
"That's not what I'm asking," Leon responded. He didn't need to clarify. Merlin squirmed under the scrutiny. His palm felt slick against the strap of his backpack.
"I don't know what happened," he blurted. "The dragon just left. Arthur was conscious, and I brought the two of you back to the nearest safe place I knew."
"That would have been Arthur's flat." He might as well have said you're lying. Merlin could hear it in the tone of his voice. Merlin got up again, casting about desperately for some excuse: anything to get him out of the room.
"I should really—"
"Merlin." His tone stopped Merlin in his tracks. He was still standing close enough to the door that Merlin felt trapped. "I was dying," Leon said bluntly. Merlin blinked.
"No. You couldn't have been—"
"I know I was. You know it too." Leon's tone grew a touch brusque and Merlin fell silent. "I'm only asking, because a lot of it doesn't make sense. I may not remember much, but I saw the arch come down. Arthur was under it. You were the only one left conscious, and you're also the only one who came out of this without any burns. If anyone would know how came out of that situation alive and safe, it would have to be you." Merlin started shaking his head again.
"Arthur must've moved out of the way. He was alright when I got to him." Leon didn't look like he believed that—as well he might, though he didn't press the point. His response was blunt.
"I wasn't." Somehow, Merlin couldn't argue with that. Arthur had been less than alright if he was honest, but Leon… "So you don't know," Leon said. His disbelief was patently obvious. Merlin shook his head. "Nobody heals from the kind of burns I got in a matter of weeks—never mind days." Silence. Merlin could feel Leon's gaze on him, pinning him in place. He'd never been a good liar, and this hit too close to home. "Iseldir. He's the one who helped you, isn't he?"
"Iseldir?" Merlin echoed faintly, staring at him. "I… no, he…"
"You don't trust me. I can understand that," Leon said. He stepped back, and Merlin looked at the open path to the doorway, still frozen in place. He looked back at Leon and the man's lips twitched in the faintest semblance of a smile. "You don't have to look so spooked, Merlin. I'm not going to say anything to Rodor or the city police. I wouldn't turn on a man who saved my life—probably yours and Arthur's as well." Without meaning to, Merlin let out a breath, and Leon moved back another step. "Whatever the two of you did… it worked. But I'd love to know why Arthur's tracking data places him in Dartmoor some hours prior to our encounter and why no one has seen the dragon since that night." Merlin swallowed. Arthur knew… and damn, he wished the blond was here now, because he didn't know what to tell Leon. "Maybe," Leon said mildly, "One of these days you and Arthur will see fit to tell me." He couldn't tell whether the look on Leon's face was more of accusation or simple curiosity. He wrapped his fingers tight around the strap of his backpack and wished not for the first time that he wasn't such an utterly terrible liar.
"Maybe," he said, and he stepped past Leon and headed straight down the hall without waiting for any further response. Leon might well know more than he was letting on, but all he could focus on now was that the Patronus wouldn't take it any further. He would have to talk to Arthur later.
With Leon's attention so suddenly focused on him, Merlin didn't like leaving the base so long a stretch of time. But after the trouble he'd gone to arranging it, Merlin didn't have much of a choice. It was now or never. He could only hope that Arthur was busy enough to stay out of the clinic for the day. He didn't need Arthur and Gaius crossing paths and unraveling his tale. Gaius would not approve of his disappearance either, and certainly not his visiting this part of town.
Merlin crouched under the tumbledown door frame of an old building—one of many in the city which had not been repaired after the destruction wreaked in Uther's first war. It reminded him ironically of Christ Church courtyard where he and Arthur had tried to end this whole mess. Inside, he trailed a hand over the stone wall, letting his magic wind around the stones and openings in the damaged building to keep any stray passers by from noticing his meeting.
"Emrys." Merlin's heart leapt into his throat. He dropped his hand and spun about. Behind him, the silvery-sheen of protection rippled and retracted, and the tip of a long, scaly tail swept back from Merlin's boots.
"Kilgarrah," he acknowledged. His heart was already hammering a half-panicked rhythm in his chest. When last he'd heard Kilgarrah use that name, it had been with a heavy dose of scorn and anger. He tensed when the creature shifted his great, clawed front feet and was forced to take a step back closer to the wall. In a sweeping gesture, the dragon bowed his head, his slitted eyes narrowing to a golden crack. Merlin stared. "There's no need to call me that," he said slowly.
"There is every need." Kilgarrah lifted his eyes to regard him. "I misjudged you, Emrys. I should not have assumed that you would do harm to Balinor. The betrayal was on my part—not yours." Merlin caught himself, quick to dispel the expression of surprise.
"You should never have tried to hurt Arthur," Merlin said with a trace more confidence than he felt. The dragon dipped his head lower still.
"I was blinded by my anger. Forgive me." Merlin watched him a moment longer, silent and uneasy. It would be some time before he felt entirely comfortable requesting help from Kilgarrah again. The dragon's attack had been the catalyst for Cenred and Fox's movement and indirectly Uther's death which had shaken Arthur so badly. And it was a reminder that much of this disaster stemmed from Merlin's own mistakes.
"What's done is done," he allowed with some terse reluctance. Balinor would not have sent the dragon if he didn't trust him. "Arthur is alright, but I need your help now."
"I am at your service." Kilgarrah bowed his head again, and Merlin pressed on, ignoring the strangeness of the situation. He wished fervently that Balinor were there standing in his place. It felt uncomfortable commanding any kind of power over the centuries-old dragon.
"Iseldir thought you might be able to tell me something about Cenred, Fox, and Nimueh." Kilgarrah's eyes narrowed.
"The general I know little about. But I have met Nimueh. She once lived among the Druids, when she was younger. To my knowledge, she does not keep company with them any more." A low growl rumbled in his throat. "Perhaps she was wiser than I. It seems she walked free all these years." Merlin shifted his feet. He hadn't expected Kilgarrah's anger to filter away too quickly; there was still evident bitterness. He let the comment slide without taking note of it.
"She wants to kill Arthur." The dragon snorted softly.
"If that is what you wanted to tell me, you might have spared me the trouble of a journey."
"Yes, well forgive me if that's not a joke to me. She's tried several times now, and very nearly succeeded," Merlin said testily. He couldn't help the sinking feeling of dread that settled over him like a winter chill. "I can't even face up to Nimueh on my own. If she's allied with Morgause—"
"Nimueh has no allies, Emrys," Kilgarrah interrupted calmly. "She works alone, as she has since Uther murdered the rest of the Pure. She trusts no one. I doubt she has changed since we last crossed paths. On her own, she poses little threat." Merlin turned and began to pace in the small space left to him opposite the dragon. He wasn't sure that was entirely comforting.
"What about Morgause then? What do you know of her? Morgana thought she was a sorceress."
"That she is. For a time she was Nimueh's protégée—a very gifted young sorceress by the name of Anna Cornwall." The dragon curled his lip. "She could hardly have fostered a successful political career if she had a history of association with a member of The Pure. She's done a very effective job of changing her identity, but I recognize her."
"Cornwall…" Merlin stared at the dragon. "She… she died in the Purge."
"And Morgause Fox was born in her place." Kilgarrah bared his teeth in an expression resembling a mirthless grin. "She would not have thrown away her careful disguise by fostering indiscreet connections. You can be certain she avoided any contact with Nimueh." Cornwall... Anna Cornwall... That made her Morgana's half sister. Merlin shuddered. Morgana must have known that… and that she hadn't told him. It was no wonder she'd fostered a bond with the politician so quickly.
"She spoke to Arthur."
"Did she?" Kilgarrah's voice held a lilt of mixed amusement and curiosity. "So the Pendragon understands his father's lies now?"
"You knew?" Merlin looked up, eyes lighting with anger. "You knew about Arthur's birth, and you didn't tell me?"
"You were never greatly inclined to believe my tales, young one. What would you have done with the knowledge—told Arthur? He would not have believed you without the evidence before him." Merlin clenched his jaw.
"It was important for me to know."
"And now you do. Morgause's origins are of little consequence now." Merlin closed his eyes and slowly uncurled his fists. He didn't have time to argue with the dragon right now.
"Do you know where Fox and Cenred are now?" he asked. Where Morgana is…
"I have had little time to examine Camelot," Kilgarrah replied. "I've been in Dartmoor. But from what the Druids tell me, the Fox woman and General Cenred are here within the city, as your General Rodor is. They have garnered support inside Camelot, and most of their contacts are unknown as of yet." His tail flicked across the dusty ground. "You wanted my help, Emrys."
"I do," Merlin said heavily. He was beginning to wish more with each moment that he hadn't come.
"Arthur understands what is at stake." Merlin nodded quietly. Morgause was merely the second iteration of the Pure, in a carefully disguised form. "Then he must ensure that Morgause Fox and Morgana do not secure the alliance of the Druids."
"How?" Merlin's head came up.
"Arthur trusts Balinor and the Druids, does he not?" The question gave Merlin pause.
"Maybe." Arthur seemed no more comfortable with the dragon lord than Merlin was now with Kilgarrah.
"I believe you'll find them willing to negotiate with him."
"I…" Merlin shook his head. "I can't. There's no way. Arthur wouldn't seek out an alliance with them. Never mind how we'd convince Rodor to make such an agreement."
Kilgarrah tilted his head.
"If you do not try, then your cause is already lost. It was the Druids who prevented vengeful sorcerers from destroying this country before Uther took control."
Merlin looked away. He couldn't even imagine bringing the subject up with Arthur.
"Right now, I just need to know what Morgause and Cenred are doing," he said. The dragon blinked slowly at him, and Merlin had a distinct feeling that he was displeased, but he let the topic slide.
"I will find them," Kilgarrah promised.
"I won't be able to meet with you again. People will notice if I keep disappearing."
"You should be able to hear me, as long as I am nearby." Merlin nodded. He'd known that since his very first days in Camelot.
"Be careful," he added. "I don't want you to get yourself hurt... and I don't want anyone knowing you've been there—not Morgause, and not Rodor either. Certainly not Arthur."
"They will never see me, Emrys."
"I'm not Emrys," Merlin said instantly. To his surprise, the dragon's response was a low, rumbling laugh. His golden eyes turned on Merlin again.
"You seem in two minds about that, young one. That is not what you told me when you stood guard over the fallen Pendragon. There is no doubt. You are Emrys. The Druids say it, and you attest it by your actions."
"I'm not protecting Arthur because I'm some prophesied Druid savior. He's my friend."
"As you say." The dragon dipped his head, almost condescending in his expression. Merlin turned his back again. All the Druids called him that—even Brigid. Yet prophecies and the like never meant anything to him. He would be the last dragon lord after Balinor. Perhaps it was that and nothing more which made the druids call him by the prophecy name. Or perhaps the young, feverish Mordred had been confused and they had taken the boy's word for it. Merlin let his hand brush the stones again, subconsciously testing his protection around the building.
"There is something else you would ask," Kilgarrah said after a pause. Merlin stopped pacing and buried his hands in his pockets again. The dragon's perception was a trace unsettling. He took a breath.
"Balinor," he said. "Iseldir told me he's very sick." The reminder seemed to weigh on Kilgarrah's broad shoulders as well. He half-closed his eyes and lowered his great head.
"You know he does not have long," he said quietly. Merlin nodded. He looked down at his shoes.
"I need to ask a favor of you."
"Anything, Emrys." The continued use of his prophecy name did not escape Merlin. He exhaled again and let it go for the moment.
"Tell Iseldir to contact Hunith Astur in Armagh, Ireland. If she's hesitant to come, tell her there's someone who wants to see her here—someone I met last month, when the rebellion started. She'll understand." The dragon's great wings rustled in the hollow church as he lifted his head, his grim expression softening.
"I have known Balinor ever since he was a child, Merlin. I am well aware of who Hunith is." He spread his wings cautiously in the cramped space and bowed his head deferentially to the warlock. "I will do as you ask." A gust of air ruffled Merlin's hair and tugged at his jacket. Merlin took a step back. "We will meet again, young warlock," Kilgarrah said. With those words, the dragon launched himself into the air through the gaping hole in the roof, and his body rippled and vanished into the air just before he emerged into the sunlight.
"Gwaine said you were looking for me?" Merlin peered around the door of his uncle's current office. Gaius looked up, frowning at Merlin over the rims of his reading glasses.
"Where have you been?" Merlin shrugged his backpack off and dropped his backpack by the door with a heavy thud, careful to keep an unconcerned expression.
"I was with Arthur."
"That's funny." Gaius's eyebrow arched. "Because Arthur told me you were 'helping me with something'today." Merlin smothered a sigh. Damn it, Arthur
"I just… I went for a walk."
"All morning?" Gaius raised an eyebrow. His message was clear. The game is up, Merlin. "There was a time when you thought twice before lying to me," he said icily. Merlin shifted.
"There was something I had to do. No one saw me come or go. It's fine—"
"That's not an answer," Gaius cut in. "You were off the premises again, weren't you?"
"Maybe." The word was quiet enough that it was almost indiscernible. Gaius' frown deepened.
"Arthur was looking for you. You were supposed to be at the range an hour ago." Merlin looked sideways at the clock on the wall.
"I missed practice?" His face lit up in a grin. "Great!"
"There is nothing great about it. You know as well as I do why you have to attend."
"I don't need it!"
"Would you care to explain why you don't need it to Arthur?" Gaius demanded. Merlin's grin faded. He buried his hands in his pockets and stared down at his shoes. "I don't have many excuses left for these disappearances of yours," Gaius said. "Merlin, this is hardly the safest place for Arthur to be. If you attract attention—if the right person sees you, Arthur could be in danger."
"No one is going to see me. I'm careful!"
"Really? Because Arthur isn't the only one who's noticed your absences," Gaius retorted. "You are no more invisible than the rest of us when you leave these grounds."
"No one's going to notice a stranger on the streets," Merlin insisted stubbornly. "And I don't really think Arthur cares. Who else even knows I exist here on the base—Gwaine?"
"I think Rodor is well aware of your presence. You've certainly been stubborn about going wherever Arthur does," Gaius pointed out. "Merlin, you can't just disappear on a military base." The warlock lifted his shoulders.
"No one here really cares what happens to me. You know they only offered me some training because Leon recommended they let me stay with Arthur."
"Because you wouldn't leave," Gaius reminded him sternly. "I know, you want to stay near to help Arthur, and that is commendable, but you aren't helping him if you're getting yourself into trouble. You've been lucky this far. Don't test it." His eyebrows drew down. "Am I supposed to be grateful that you weren't gone for an entire day like the last time?"
"Gaius, I needed my book. I left it in Oxford."
"You needed to stay safe."
"I was fine!" Merlin threw up his hands. "I know you're trying to protect me, but I can take care of myself now. I'm not the frightened teenager who stumbled into your neighborhood in Camelot."
"No. You're a foolhardy young man who has developed the ridiculous idea that he's invincible. Perhaps it would be better for you if you were still afraid," Gaius responded. Merlin set his jaw. Behind Gaius, he saw a car pull up—probably one of Rodor's many adjutants. He hadn't gotten the hang of identifying ranks, but the dark skinned young man had a single chevron on his sleeve, so certainly a lower ranking individual. Uniforms… they were one of the daily reminders to Merlin of just how much he didn't belong here. He hated the military issue clothing and stringent restrictions—including the way his mobile had been stripped off of him and analyzed before he could even show Gwen's last hastily-penned warning to Arthur. He snagged his backpack again and turned with a scowl. Through the window, the young soldier who had arrived was no longer alone. There were now three or four others who had stopped to talk to him, and Merlin thought he spotted Leon's distinctive Patronus uniform among them.
"I'm going to go find Arthur," he said.
"You certainly are not." Merlin froze when he heard the soft thump of a paper-stack on the desk behind him.
"No. No, Gaius, I need to know what's going on. Rodor's discussing contact with the Norweigan embassy—"
"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you left me to make excuses for you," Gaius answered curtly. "I told Arthur I had too much work and couldn't spare you for today." Gaius scooped up the stack and thrust it into Merlin's arms. "So I suggest you make yourself look busy." Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut short by the arrival of a breathless Arthur who stopped in the doorway.
"Gaius, we're—" He broke off and his eyes fixed on Merlin still standing in front of the desk with an armful of files. "Where the hell have you been?"
"I—" Arthur seized him by the shoulders, breaking into the first genuine smile Merlin had seen on his face in days.
"Merlin, we found them!"
"What? Who?" Merlin stared, held in place by his friend's almost painfully tight grip with the files still clasped against his chest. Arthur shook him.
"The others—Guinevere, Lance, and Percival. They're safe!"
AN2:
Alright folks. I have some good news and some bad news. I'll just... sort of blend them up here.
So for starters I have officially turned in my paperwork to graduate with honors! The fantastic professor who accepted my research proposal will be assisting me in writing a thesis between 40 and 100 pages. Needless to say, I am equal parts excited out of my mind and scared to death.
What I'm rather clumsily trying to tell you is, this is the biggest, most involved, and most important thing I have ever done in my life... and yes. I will have to take a hiatus from this story until I've finished my honors thesis.
Not yet, but soon.
I think there will be somewhere between 7 and 10 more chapters to this story. The plot is almost entirely worked out now, and I am hoping to write two more of them before my thesis kicks into full swing and consumes my every waking hour.
My thesis defense is slotted for the first week of April, so the hiatus WILL NOT last more than January through March. Please don't give up on me! THIS STORY WILL NOT BE ABANDONED. My goal is to pick up again in April after my defense (if I don't die *shudders*) and finish it over the summer, before I start graduate school (where I most certainly shall die D:).
I appreciate all of you so much for reading and for being so patient with me in this very hectic (but insanely exciting) time of my life! :) You're awesome!
I will write an update to let you know when the hiatus begins. Hopefully it'll come with a chapter, but we'll see how things pan out!
Best,
Sandyy