A/N: Mentions of death, murder, poisoning, vomiting, other unpleasantness.
I had a thought about the characters from TDC and then it transferred onto Stella and Griffin. I'm still obsessed with TDC so you keep getting updates in this series.
Edmund, the butler, is a canonic TDC character and I thought it would be best to keep him instead of making OCs to do his job.
The smell of stew fished her out of the bitter taste of different poisons flowing from the string of memories the book in her hands lured forward like she was a naive little fish and not the monster from the depths of the islanders' nightmares. She felt the need to bite off the head of whoever had allowed themselves to interrupt her reading and desecrate the library by even thinking of bringing food anywhere near it but she forced it down when she knew it was Stella. No one else would allow themselves the audacity. Certainly not Griselda who shared not just her blood but also her boldness and her love of books, much less any of the servants who respected but still feared her. As if she would waste her poisons and her efforts in justifying the murders on them when she could just fire them and hire someone who could do the job right.
The door opened to see the young queen in and she held it to ease the task of Griffin's butler–Edmund–to carry the enormous silver tray in his hands inside the space of the library. It was probably done out of fear that Edmund would somehow manage to drop his load the one time he was not supposed to and stain the library floor even though he'd been carrying the main weight of the household for almost as long as Griffin had been making the decisions for the Sylvane family and the whole island and Stella was just as used to his stealth and dexterity now as Griffin herself was. He was only ever noticed when he awaited instructions as failure to carry out his tasks was not a part of his job description so it never occurred.
"What's the occasion?" Griffin asked as she briskly moved to leave her book back on the shelve where it normally resided before the food could be brought anywhere close to it.
"Just a little surprise," Stella said, trying to pull off her innocent act and Griffin wasn't surprised it was working but rather bothered by the fact how easily she was falling victim to her little queen's schemes. Though, Stella wasn't quite so young and small anymore, yet she was still just as charming as she'd been when she'd first arrived at Greavesdrake and hadn't even reached Griffin's waist.
Griffin did not comment on Stella's chosen place for the impromptu picnic and just took her seat again when she knew it was all her doing. Stella was at the dining room for every meal and none of the maneuvering presented would have been necessary if Griffin had bothered to dig herself out of her paperwork and studies and found the time to sit at the table and eat with the young queen. She'd had the ambush coming and could have prevented it if she'd kept track of how many times she'd skipped gracing Stella with her company during a meal but she'd been too swallowed in work to notice. So Stella had noticed for her instead.
"Thank you, Edmund. I'll take it from here," Stella said when he left everything on the table Griffin had left all at her book's disposal before the interruption. She was usually better mannered–as a queen had to be–but she was protective over her time with Griffin so she allowed herself to rush him out of the room.
"As the young queen wishes," Edmund bowed slightly before leaving them and closing the door behind him now that his hands were free.
Normally, the dishes would be concealed by silver cloches when carried from the kitchen but since Stella had intended to have them turn to lunch instantly, those had been forgone. All the food was left open for the inspection of Griffin's gaze.
The venison stew she'd smelled was just one portion as it was covered with rosary peas which made it most unsavory to Stella. Her gift hadn't come in yet and even a few bites of the stew would send her doubling over and falling out of her chair defeating the purpose of lunch when she emptied her stomach's contents on the library floor. The poison had soaked everything so there was no way around it either and they could only avoid all the unpleasantness if Stella's poisoner gift suddenly decided to kick in exactly that day but since it hadn't shown for the six years Stella had spent in Griffin's care, they could both agree it was better to leave it alone for now.
"How are your studies going?" Griffin asked as she watched Stella take one of the teacups and place it in front of her, the strong scent of sweet woodruff wafting through the air to draw her to the drink despite the steam coming out of it that advised caution when it came to the temperature.
At least the tea was safe for consumption by Stella as well. Woodruff was added in the May wine poisoners served to their children when their gift still hadn't come in and Stella had loved the drink as well ever since she'd become a resident of Greavesdrake half her lifetime ago. She hardly remembered anything before the poisons and the purple of Griffin's hair and at least that was going the way it was supposed to. Forgetting her sisters was the first step to killing them which was, in turn, the final step to surviving. But there was more after that which was where the lessons came.
Being an expert on poisons was what would win Stella the crown when her concoctions made their way into her sisters' veins but she needed to know how to wear it, too, how to rule. She needed to know her way through politics as well as she knew it through poisons and that cost numerous hours spent studying that felt dry and bitter and almost as horrible as the poisoning training but were at least giving better results despite how often Stella ended up with a sketch of what had become a distraction instead of paying attention to the economics she was being tutored in. Griffin had witnessed enough of that to need to put efforts into containing her regret over Stella's fate as a queen. And she most certainly always did her best not to wish that Stella could have been her child and had at least some freedom in choosing what she wanted to be.
"Almost as sweet as the Galium odoratum tea when Griselda is not watching me like a hawk the entire time," Stella said as she placed her own cup of tea on the table and it had Griffin smirking.
Griselda hardly had the time for observations now that she was the one ruling the Black Council more or less since Griffin was doing whatever did not necessitate her presence from home and avoided the Volroy on most days. No one dared say anything when she had the important task of raising their next Queen to handle and her sister was handling the rest. Griselda was sterner despite being the more controlled sister and sometimes Griffin could swear that people feared her more which was not really a problem. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Griselda's strictness is her way of saying that she cares," Griffin said, resisting the impulse to nuzzle her cup of tea before Stella was seated herself. She'd said it before, too, but it was worth repeating when she could tell Stella struggled to believe it some days when Griselda got particularly demanding. Griffin had felt like she couldn't live up to her sister's standards herself even if she was older and the head of the family. It was just hard to compete with Griselda when she excelled in everything and expected the same from everyone else only to be disappointed more often than not. "You know she's not all academics, though," Griffin said to draw Stella's attention away from the theoretical when it wasn't her strongest suit as she preferred action.
"Right," Stella said as she moved the plates with the bloodroot salad off the tray leaving one for herself as well since she could eat it in small quantities. "After a few years of lessons in poisons, I can at least catch up with what she's saying but the moment she brings up archery practice I am left far behind," Stella said as she placed the stew in front of Griffin.
Griffin did not comment on all the care Stella was displaying for her as enough had been said already. She could never forget the confession of a nine-year-old Stella that she preferred it when there was a party or they had guests since those were the only times anyone could be sure Griffin had truly eaten something along with her poisons even if it meant Stella herself remained mostly hungry as everything served was tainted and she could hardly take a bite without getting sick. Watching her choke down half a plate of candied scorpions when she'd learned that as long as she avoided the tails, she would be fine had made Griffin hurt worse than any venom would have even if she hadn't had her gift. Though, if there was anything positive to be found in the situation, it was that Stella hadn't lost her appetite despite the harsh effects of all the poisons she'd been subjected to.
"Griselda's had years worth of practice," Griffin said to drag herself out of those thoughts even if they bled through in the present every time the toxins forced in Stella's system would force a groan out of her. "You'll get there." Griselda could be a demanding teacher but her lessons gave results at least to a certain degree no matter who she was teaching and Stella was doing her best to learn.
"I can't even touch the arrow tips when they're dipped in Aconitum and whatever I can touch is not of much help when I'm terrible at archery," Stella huffed and Griffin tried to ignore the porridge that was one of the main components of Stella's menu when she'd end up throwing up most of what she ate anyway when exposed to poison and focus on holding back her chuckle to make sure it wouldn't be interpreted the wrong way.
It was endearing to see how much Stella was striving to please. No one had made her learn the scientific names of the poisons she used and just calling the Aconitum wolf's-bane would have been enough so long as she knew what it was and how to use it while staying safe herself. Yet, she had all the convoluted names memorized when she'd color-coded them – each in the shade of the plant it came from. Both Griffin and Griselda had been impressed and Stella had been beaming with pride which had been not just welcome considering her usual bouts of doubt, but also well-deserved.
"Archery needs discipline and practice and with Griselda as your teacher you have no choice but to give both of those so I wouldn't be particularly worried about that," Griffin said and let a small smile play out on her face at the look of Stella's resigned expression. "Unless, of course, you would like to spend those hours doing other things in which case you'll need to learn to live with the disappointment." That was the understatement of her entire life. There would hardly be anything else other than disappointment and sacrifices in Stella's life when there was no glamor to being Queen, only duty. "Or you'll need to figure out an arrangement with Griselda that works for both of you," Griffin suggested and was rewarded for the leniency when Stella beamed at her. She would just have to make sure that radiance would stay there after the Ascension Year was done so the crown could be put to shame by Stella's shine.
"Do you think I have a chance there?" Stella asked, already excited despite her own uncertainty of her abilities and opportunities and Griffin's own heart was trying to jump out of the place where it was supposed to be as if to shield Stella's joy. Seeing her enthusiasm was an even better gift than the dress Stella had made for her.
In all fairness, Griffin had already had the dress but Stella had made some changes that had left the garment looking like there was a snake wrapped around the base of the bodice. It was perfect for a poisoner like Griffin who was not a fan of wearing the living version like Ediltrude and even Zarathustra had been, always wrapped in snakes that weren't even sedated to guarantee they wouldn't cause trouble. Their poison couldn't hurt the twins whose gift was as strong as Griffin's own but at an event that wasn't strictly for the Sylvane family could lead to mayhem. Which was exactly the reason why the twins had loved doing it, of course, always a bit of disaster to go with their clothes. It was the most essential accessory to the two of them and the fact that Griffin and Griselda could argue had never stopped them.
Stella hadn't let the constant poison-induced vomiting and her lack of a figure to stand in the way of her interest in fashion either. She was serious about it and Griffin couldn't find it in herself to force her to drop it even when she knew that would be best. There was no way it could go anywhere whether Stella lived or died in her Ascension Year and she had to hide it even now since they couldn't announce she was the one who had designed her own dress at a party. It was one of the few things that brought her genuine joy, though, and Griffin wouldn't let it be crushed after Stella was doing her best to be the dutiful queen everyone wanted to see.
"You always have a chance," Griffin said, knowing her words would convince Stella. "Especially when I'm there to support you." And that would be always.
Griselda wouldn't be happy with that particular idea, Griffin would find a way to convince her. Stella had already sacrificed so much when she went through poisoning after poisoning trying to put on a brave face and endure it without complaining. Even when it made her hate what she saw in the mirror and ruined her confidence keeping her from approaching any of the boys she was crushing on which Griselda said was better anyway and Griffin was forced to agree since there was just one path for a queen and any love it involved came from her king-consort. But Stella couldn't even enjoy something harmless such as dancing a lot of the time when she barely had the energy after she'd almost thrown up her guts countless times in the dead of night while the toxins gripped her body tightly and made it convulse. Griffin was not going to ruin anything for her that she didn't absolutely have to.
"Thank you, Griffin," Stella said with a look so intense that Griffin had to reach for her teacup to make sure the young queen wouldn't reach for her hand. And as much as she would like to say she was doing it for Stella, she was doing it for herself, to remind herself Stella was only hers to raise and belonged to the Goddess like all the rest of them did. No matter how much Griffin would like it to be different.
Stella moved to put the dessert on the table as well and Griffin almost choked on her sip of tea when she saw the blue fruits of moonseed adorning the pie.
Moonseed pie had been Luna's favorite as the poison wasn't quite that strong and even a giftless person could survive it. Griffin had quickly developed a taste for it as well and Griselda had eventually joined them in their little pie tradition as well, though Griffin hadn't been sure whether she'd been guarding herself from the high sugar intake or the attachment that a ritual like that bound them in. If it had been the latter, it had certainly been a good idea since Luna's death had tainted the dessert with something even the Sylvane poisoners were not immune to.
Stella couldn't have known that just the sight of the pie would almost have bile rising in Griffin's throat at the bitterness of the memories in her head. Griffin never talked about Luna even if Stella asked. She just pretended she didn't hear her questions and all Griselda ever told her was that dead queens were not talked about. And by now Stella had learned not to insist that Luna was her aunt when she knew queens had no families–they came from the Goddess and were only fostered in chosen families until they were of age to claim their birthright or die to feed the Island–and she'd finally stopped asking. Though, Griffin suspected that had more to do with Stella feeling the pain her questions caused both Griffin and Griselda rather than with the disappearance of her curiosity.
Griffin would have talked if she could find any words when she knew Stella would never find anything in a book about a dead queen that was forgotten but there just wasn't anything to say. Or rather there were many things to say that could not be said. Maybe the pain would go away if Griffin could scream it all out but she couldn't let anyone hear. She couldn't blame the Goddess for taking away from her something that had never been hers. And no queen was ever anyone's.
"There are no fruits in the pie as well, are they?" Griffin asked as she took a better look at the two slices. Stella's didn't have the moonseed on top and the filling looked free of it as well.
"No, they are just on top," Stella said, fidgeting almost guiltily and Griffin couldn't decide whether she had felt it necessary because she couldn't consume the poison or because she had an appetite for the pie despite that. As if Griffin was going to scold her for daring to want food when she hadn't fulfilled her obligation to learn to eat it when it was tainted.
"Then you can have my slice, too," Griffin said, wishing that her own stomach would relax the way Stella did. She would have to taste the pie still before she let Stella have any of it. She couldn't risk any mistakes even if just the thought of eating it was making her nauseous.
She'd only eaten moonseed pie with Griselda when they would prepare it together under the cover of night on the anniversary of Luna's death to honor their sister's memory. But for Stella she would eat all of her misery. All of her fears and all of her weaknesses. She couldn't be anything short of dauntless when Stella was hunting down her own courage every day to get through the very lessons that were supposed to keep her alive.
It was only fair that Griffin faced the things she was afraid would kill her in the name of her Queen, in the name of her precious little star when that was what would keep her shining. She would care for Stella even if it killed her. She would certainly deserve it if she couldn't keep her ray of sunshine safe.