Marcia made breakfast and sat at the little table in her kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. Her hair was freshly washed and still a bit wet but she the cold drips were helping her wake up. She made a bowl of oatmeal for herself and left a second one on the stove.
Her apprentice was late waking up but since he'd barely been living with her for a week she felt he could sleep in a bit more. The Tower was slowly but surly filling up once more. Many of the wizards were sore, sick, and malnourished but happily the tower was providing what they needed until the medical bay wizard, who had apparently used every trick he knew to keep them all alive, could recover. Marcia went every morning through the tower and checked on everyone and asked what she might do to help. Several had asked where she'd been the last few months and Marcia would explain: a few scoffed, a few expressed their sympathy, and some felt sorry for her. No one had had an easy go of it, but as she had told Septimus, things have a habit of working out eventually.
Septimus came into the kitchen dressed for the first time in his brand new bright green apprentice robes. He looked uncomfortable. "They're a bit bright don't you think?" He asked messing with the sleeve.
"Don't worry, the color fades as you wear it." Marcia said with a knowing smile. "They suit you. Better than that ridiculous uniform you wore when you were outside the tower anyway."
"Anything would be better than that. I still feel ridiculous." Septimus grabbed the bowl set out for him and nearly drowned it in syrup.
"You'll rot your teeth out if you keep that up." Marcia said over her shoulder as she poured a second cup.
"But this is like what they gave us only less water, and the syrup makes it better. The chief cadets used to talk about how good it was, but this is so much better," Septimus smiled.
He had discovered that if he mentioned the young army Marcia would usually let things slide.
"Just finish up and go clean library, you need to go through the renewals today."
"Yes Madam Overstrand," Septimus obediently got up and inhaled his oatmeal.
"How long are you going to keep that up?"Marcia sighed putting down high cup roughly.
"Keep up what Madam Overstand?" Septimus stopped hand on the door.
"You live here too ,Septimus, you will be living here for the next seven years, call me Marcia." After a week of telling him repeatedly he still hand't listened.
"Are you certain?" Septimus was hesitant to be so familiar with her. Sure he had referred to her by her first name, but that was when she wasn't there.
"Yes, Septimus, I am absolutely certain. Unless of course you would rather I call you
Mr. Heap." Marcia said with a half smile as her a apprentice made a face.
"Still not used to that," Septimus said, his hands dropping to his sides, "do you think I ever will?" He sounded sad.
"The longer you use it the more you'll get used to it." Marcia reassured him.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, I'll get to work on the library...Marcia."
"There you go, watch out for the spiders up there, I wouldn't put it past them to be poisonous."
"I will." Septimus called over his shoulder. He smiled at the thought of . He'd never had a last name before. Heck he'd never had a name at all, but the last name felt especially good. It meant he belonged somewhere.