Another week, another chapter.
Without further ado...
Chapter 10
The next day passed by in a flurry of activity for Cinder. Trying to clean up Roman's mess – the man tried at all points to assure her that he wasn't at fault, but really, how did a grown, huntsman-level fighter lose to a group of children? – and make sure they would still have enough resources to move ahead on schedule.
Which was a fun bout of activity that she'd not thought she was going to be saddled with twenty-four hours prior.
"Would you like help, ma'am?"
She looked up to see Emerald hovering over her and gave the girl a wan smile. For once, her incessant need to stay close to her at all times seemed like it might benefit her.
"Actually, that sounds like a good idea." She admitted, patting the spot beside her on her bed inside their dorm room. "Here, sit, there are some tasks I can give to you."
Emerald put up no fuss, sitting down beside her and immediately getting to work on what Cinder provided.
Luckily, the girl's help led her to accomplishing some of the tasks she'd had for the evening much quicker, even if she'd only given Emerald some simply calculations. Determining just how far the losses at the docks would set them back, and things of that nature.
It also served as a decent moment to gauge her own relationship with Emerald.
Things were, for the most part, back to normal, and yet…
There was a certain undercurrent now. Something which lurked beneath the said, that Cinder found herself incapable of reading into. Whenever Emerald looked to her now, she would smile, this sort of real expression that Cinder hadn't seen on her face before.
She had half a mind to ask her what it was, but… well, they'd only just gotten back on good terms. She didn't much feel like going through all of what she'd just done again.
She was, also, still hiding from her own weakness on the matter of Emerald. How she'd all but run away from truly facing the girl, as she seemed to always do in the end.
Thusly, Cinder kept her thoughts to herself.
They eventually finished about two hours later, just as the sun in the sky was cresting evening.
"Your help was most appreciated, Emerald."
The girl beside her went a little red at that, but she nodded her head a second later. "I'd love to help out more, honestly, so if you ever need anything…"
The smile that came to Cinder's face then wasn't too terribly difficult to feign. "I'll be sure to come to you first."
Still, as evening turned to night, and the others all began to go about their own activities, Cinder found herself, well…
Bored, really.
As important as the work was, she'd been reallocating their dust stores, going over the numbers, and just generally focused on their mission for the last twelve hours of her life. She'd done little else since waking up, and that meant, well…
She might as well treat herself.
But given she'd just spent an awful lot of her budget on what was supposed to be a relaxing evening the previous night, she didn't exactly want to gorge again. Especially not when she'd not been able to get a full refund at that restaurant she'd been planning on dining at.
Luckily – for them, really, since she wouldn't be burning the place down out of sheer spite – the restaurant had been understanding enough of her sudden cancellation. They hadn't given her a refund, as she'd initially requested, but allowed her to take the down payment she'd made on a reservation and apply it to any night in the next few months.
She'd have to get out there sometime before she destroyed Vale. Roman said they had good breadsticks.
Still, how would she go about giving herself a break, without actually spending any more lien?
And then an idea occurred to her, one that answered… well, all of those questions.
And would, hopefully, solve a few other problems as well.
"I'm going out." She announced, earning a grunt of acknowledgement from Mercury and Neo, both of whom were consumed with their own tasks, and a nod from Emerald.
"Would you like me to come with you?" The girl asked her.
"No. I'm going to go and speak with someone alone."
Her follower just nodded, even as Cinder pushed open the door to their dorm and trekked away.
The journey to her destination was only a few minutes, though during that time, Cinder found herself thinking on just what it was she intended to do with this little sojourn.
It didn't really have a… point? If that made sense. And yet, still, Cinder found herself doing such things more often recently. Things without reason. Because she…
Doing things because she wanted to.
It was different, and yet…
Cinder found she quite liked it.
Two knocks on the door, and it opened up.
"Ms. Fall?" Glynda Goodwitch greeted her with a bit of surprise hanging about her voice.
"Hello, Ms. Goodwitch." She spoke, trying for her best smile. "I was wondering if you and I could talk?"
"Ah, I suppose so. After all, we didn't get the chance to the other night when you came by." The woman said, glancing back into her room. "I was mostly working on dealing with the… incident that occurred last night at the docks. I don't know if you heard about that…"
"Oh, believe me," Cinder said with a ferocious smile. "I know."
"Hah, then you might also imagine that getting insurance companies to back up their end of the bargain is… well, nightmarish at the best of times."
"I can always return later, if you'd like?"
Such would be a problem, certainly, given that this had quickly become Cinder's plan for the evening, but if Goodwitch was busy, well…
Cinder wasn't entirely sure why, but she didn't want to get in the woman's way.
"No, please." The professor took a step back, gesturing for Cinder to follow. "Come in. Honestly, I could use a break."
"Hah. That's why I came, actually." Cinder admitted, finding some mirth in being able to tell a bit of the truth, however slanted. "I found myself searching for a break from my own work."
"Ah. Oobleck's end of semester essay, perhaps?"
"…Something like that." She said with some amusement.
Glynda Goodwitch's room was much the same as it'd been the last time Cinder had been by, which was to say that it fit the woman to a tee. A rather disciplined space, filled with only the basic amenities one would require in order to live in mild comfort. It certainly wasn't lavish, by any means.
Still, for some reason, Cinder found herself thinking about her own living space. Not here at Beacon but back at Evernight, the place that Salem had given to her when she'd taken her in all those years ago.
It was, of course, a space of black's and red's and purple's, as was Evernight itself, and, really, the entire landmass that had once been the domain of the God of Destruction. Cinder had never really seen the need to change the color, nor decorate the room, not with anything beyond the essentials.
She had a bed, fitted with fine enough sheets and a pillow that supported her head adequately. She had a dresser, filled with a few outfits – most of them training attire – that she could wear around their little 'base of operations'. And she had a stand upon which laid, even to this day, the twin swords she'd received from Rhodes, the two blades that she had eventually based Midnight off of.
But there was nothing else inside of the room. Nothing else she had any real need of. And so, aside from those few things, it was left entirely bare.
And perhaps that was another reason she respected Glynda Goodwitch so. Because the woman was, oddly enough, rather similar to her. Someone too focused on their work to find time to do anything else. Someone dedicated, and…
And she was different in ways that Cinder appreciated, as well.
Because she seemingly cared, which was new.
Cinder had never met anyone who'd cared before.
She pushed such thoughts out of the forefront of her mind as she cleared her throat, and turned back to see Glynda Goodwitch in her kitchen, pouring water into two mugs.
"What are you…?"
"Brewing us both some tea." Ms. Goodwitch explained. "The same kind I made us both before, do you recall?"
Ah… now that the woman mentioned it, Cinder did recall. Some flowery blend that hadn't particularly suited her palette. It hadn't been horrible, but it wasn't something she'd planned on partaking of a second time.
Still, well, it seemed that plan was out the proverbial window, now.
"Ah, that'd be lovely." Cinder commented, trying her best for a warm smile.
A few minutes later, and a cup of tea was placed in front of her atop the coffee table. Cinder pulled the mug up to her lips and took a sip. Just as before, it was… passable. She could, at the very least, feign that she found it appealing.
Up until, at least, Glynda Goodwitch let out a quiet chuckle. Cinder looked up to see the woman hiding a smile.
"I guessed so before, but… you don't actually like that tea, do you?"
Cinder's eyes widened, which only caused the woman across from her to become somehow more amused.
"…How could you tell?"
"Your cheeks scrunch up whenever you take a drink."
Cinder… she found that hard to believe. After all, she was a master of manipulating her own faculties. A master of her expressions and emotions.
She would not be done in by some mildly bad tea.
"Do I really?"
"Yes. Your feelings seem to project onto your face quite readily." The woman smiled warmly, despite her damning comments. "I fear you may not have a career in espionage ahead of you, Miss Fall."
There was something so oddly humorous about that statement, about she, a spy, and a damned good one, being told that, that had Cinder actually letting out a laugh. Unfortunately, It was not the dignified sort of chuckle she usually tried to put upon.
No. She snorted. Like some muddy breed of swine.
Which was horrendously embarrassing. Made even worse when the woman across from her noticed her mortification and hid a smirk behind her own mug.
"Well, thank you for the life advice." She grumbled.
"Oh, I'm only teasing you. I'm sure you'd accomplish whatever you put your mind too. You have the talent, after all."
Talent.
Cinder bit down on the cold anger that emerged within her breast at that. That she was talented. She'd been told such a thing by Salem before, even by Hazel, and Watts on occasion – only ever to try and gain a favor out of her. Hell, the fact that Tyrian had wanted to spar with her on occasion likely meant he thought the same. But…
Cinder had always hated that phrase. Talented. Like her strength wasn't her own. That it had been given to her. That she'd been born strong.
Which was as asinine as it was offensive.
No. Cinder had been weak. A feeble little girl who'd been made into a slave. Abused, and used, and taken advantage of in every way. She had clawed, fought, bled for every bit of power in her breast, and she would not be called talented, as if she had not earned every single piece of it.
Yet still, she did not broadcast those feelings. She just feigned a smile.
"Would you like me to get you a water, then, Ms. Fall?"
"I suppose that couldn't hurt."
And so, a minute or so later, Cinder had washed her own palette clean. She found herself partaking greedily of the drink, and idly, as she stared at the clear glass she held in her hands, she realized that she'd probably not had enough nourishment, neither food nor fluid, for the entire day, too consumed by her allotted tasks.
"You seem a bit distracted."
"Ah, I'm simply… thinking." Cinder spoke.
"On?"
"Curious?" She asked, turning up to look at the woman sat across from her, having pulled up her office chair on the other side of the coffee table as she had last time.
"I will admit to some curiosity." Ms. Goodwitch said, a slight curl to her lips the only other evidence of the amusement lacing her voice. "Is it Oobleck's assignment that's on your mind, or something else?"
"Something else." Cinder admitted, before internally chastising herself.
Once again, she'd gone and said something she probably shouldn't have. Throwing away a perfectly good excuse that she could've used to keep the conversation away from herself. And yet…
And yet, Cinder found herself almost wanting to discuss herself. As if, really, that was one of the reasons she'd come here. Obviously, she couldn't discuss the whole truth, but…
"Then what was on your mind?"
"…Truth be told, I have a… let's say a friend who works at the Docks, out in the industrial district."
Goodwitch's eyes widened. "I can't imagine they've had a terribly great day."
"No, most certainly not." Cinder said. "Though I'll admit, I think this problem is a bit more on him than he lets on, even if I cannot say it's entirely his fault."
"Well, it would be hard to blame him, really, given I think the fault lies with Roman Torchwick in this case."
Cinder's eyes glinted. "You'd be surprised."
The professor gave an elegant chuckle. "Ah, is he one of those types? Not terribly reliable?"
"Got it in one."
"I see. Well, even still, unreliable, or not, I think the blame in this case falls squarely on the White Fang, and their new choice of allies. Though, I must admit," The woman said after a moment, sighing into her tea. "It surprises me to see the White Fang work with someone like Torchwick. He's not exactly a leader in faunus rights. If anything, I'd have pegged him for a bit of a racist myself."
Oh, he was certainly a bit bigoted indeed, if his calling all the White Fang that irked him 'animals' was anything to go by. Cinder had never had much problem with that, because racist or no, he did good work, and really, they were, all of them, criminals at best.
"Yes. I thought much the same. It is a… curious partnership."
"Indeed." Glynda Goodwitch spoke, before clearing her throat. "But let us not get bogged down in talk of serious matters. How are you and your team, Ms. Fall?"
A rather swift topic change, but ultimately not one she was entirely against.
"Better." Cinder said. "Emerald and I are back on good terms."
"That's wonderful." Glynda said, and there was so much feeling in her voice as she said those words, that Cinder found herself almost astonished. "I'm happy that the two of you were able to reconcile with one another."
"Yes… I…" Cinder hesitated for a moment, before swallowing her pride. It was not easy. "Thank you. For speaking with me."
"Hah. It is no big deal, I assure you. I was merely doing my job. If anything, you should be thanking young Miss Nikos. I hear she spoke with you much the same as I did."
"You knew?"
"She told me when she came to find me later on in the day." The woman explained. "A few hours later, after her combat class, she approached me and asked if I'd been able to help you. When I asked why she was curious, well…"
Cinder nodded.
Still… even still, there was something still hanging about Cinder that she knew not how to truly identify. It was… an oddly fiery thing. An anger she'd never felt before. An almost indignance.
And it was directed at the woman across from her.
Cinder had never been any good at holding back her true feelings, especially not when her temper was concerned. And so… she decided to just come out and say it.
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what, Ms. Fall?"
"Discredit yourself."
The teacher reacted subtly, her brow drawing down just a hair. "Hm?"
Cinder… how did she go about explaining this? As much as her feelings had always ruled over her, especially her anger, she wasn't exactly… in tune with them. She didn't really know how to go about utilizing them, especially in… positive ways.
Her failed conversation – successful or not – with Emerald just the other day serving as a prime example of that truth.
Even so… there was something about the woman in front of her that made her want to try.
"You… may've been able to guess that I haven't had a particularly good life."
"Ms. Fall…?"
"I… grew up in less than stellar circumstances." She spoke, not actually revealing anything about herself, but giving the woman enough to work with. "And in that time… I interacted with so many people who could've done something about it. And yet… I found that the singular constant was that no one ever gave a damn about me. There were so many people that– no, more than that, in my entire life, I never met anyone willing to stick their neck out for me. To genuinely want to help me. Never. Not once."
Cinder wasn't very good with her feelings. She could vent about her life, talk about it, surely. Because just like Emerald, she'd always wanted to. And yet, she'd never once… Cinder supposed the word was trusted someone enough to feel like she could tell them anything.
Tyrian, Hazel, Watts, and even Salem herself… none of them knew the full, unadulterated truth.
The woman before her didn't, wouldn't, but…
Cinder turned her gaze upon the other woman.
"You're the first person I've ever met who I feel actually cares."
Glynda Goodwitch's eyes went wide. She seemed somehow shocked, as if she really thought that doing all of this for them, as if constantly looking out for them and trying to make sure they were adjusting properly, was something completely normal. It wasn't, though.
No, Cinder knew for a fact that she was one of a kind.
"You… you flatter me, Ms. Fall," The woman looked away, touching the rim of her spectacles. "But I assure you that there are plenty of people out there just like–"
"Bullshit."
The sheer vitriol in that singular word seemed to be enough to make Glynda Goodwitch shudder, and it took Cinder a moment to even realize it'd been her who'd said it.
Because… because it was simply such alien language for her to use. Such a base curse. She feigned such elegance at all times, a femme fatale, in control of every situation, and yet…
Now here she was, reduced to this by a teacher not giving herself enough credit.
How asinine her life had become.
"Ms. Fall?"
She looked up into the eyes of Glynda Goodwitch and found herself wincing.
"Forgive me, I did not mean to… I shouldn't have let my temper get the best of me."
"No, I…" The woman before her paused, her hands still wrapped around the tea cup she'd poured earlier. It was empty now, and yet she clung to it like a lifeline regardless. "It is not often I receive such praise. I… I will admit it is a flaw of mine."
"Then you should work on it." Cinder said, not-quite-pouting like some infernal infant, but certainly coming close. "I will not have you downplaying the contributions you've made to… Team Chamomile. Nor, I imagine, would any of your students want you to do such a thing. You deserve such praise. Never let anyone tell you differently."
And it was in that moment that Cinder realized she had perhaps said a tad bit much, for she saw as Glynda Goodwitch's cheeks became a dusty pink color, and she looked away.
And then a second later, she laughed.
It was a light, airy sounding thing. Cinder felt enraptured with the sound immediately, finding she wanted little more than to hear it again.
If she could've equated it to anything, than she would've likened it to the sound of the wind chimes Hazel had strung up in his own living quarters, which hung out of his window. Given his room was near Cinder's own, occasionally, the echo would flow across the Evernight air, and she would catch its melody.
"Then you'll have to forgive me, Ms. Fall." Glynda Goodwitch said, still with a hint of mirth about her voice and features, her lips and cheeks both crinkled. "I believe I will have to make an effort to accept praise more openly."
Cinder hummed affirmatively. "See that you do."
Again, the woman laughed, though this time it was a shorter, less pronounced thing.
"I struggle to understand how you can say such kind things in such a domineering tone."
And now, it was Cinder's turn to be caught flummoxed.
"Well, I…"
"I suppose that must come part and parcel with being a Team leader?"
The woman was…
"Are you… teasing me?"
"Why, Ms. Fall, I'm sure I'm doing nothing of the sort."
"You will cease this immediately."
The woman sat before her somehow found a way to cackle gracefully, which was almost impressive.
"You speak as if the only way to get a word in edgewise is to dominate all conversation entirely."
Those words had Cinder freezing up. Gods but it was a stupid thing to do. Because as it turned out, sometimes not saying anything, not just playing along with what had clearly been a joke, was the worst thing one could do. And it doomed Cinder. Because suddenly, Glynda Goodwitch's eyes narrowed, and she was looking at her with something that was becoming rapidly more familiar.
It was pity.
Cinder hated it.
"…That's exactly what happened, isn't it?" The woman said. "You…"
Cinder bit down on her bottom lip, shaking her head minutely before this could even start. Once again, she'd let herself get too comfortable, despite knowing that this woman was a weakness, something she shouldn't have been entertaining at all, much less constantly seeking out, she was here again.
Just because the woman made her let down her guard, just because she somehow felt comfortable around her, didn't mean she could afford to seek that feeling. After all, if there was one thing Cinder had learned in her life, it was that she was not allowed to try and grasp the happy, innocent things that others took for granted.
And yet, she'd reached for it anyways.
And now she was paying the price.
"…I'd rather not discuss this."
There was a moment there, where the woman's face morphed into some unreadable emotion, something that seemed almost akin to anger, before it was swallowed entirely, replaced only be a sad, mournful appearance.
"I… Well, if you'd rather not, then we won't."
Cinder nodded her head. It was a dull, almost lifeless thing.
"My past is… it is not something I've shared with anyone. At least, not until I spoke with Emerald around a week ago."
Glynda's interest seemed perked, for the woman looked up at that. "You shared it with her?"
"Not… not all of it. Bits and pieces. The important parts."
That was a lie. Cinder had only really told her that she'd been a slave. That was all.
She'd not heard anything beyond that.
"Even still… that's great progress. You should be proud."
What was… progress?
"Progress towards what, exactly?"
"…Well… I suppose towards living a happy and fulfilling life."
That…
What a stupid idea.
"I'm taking it by your expression that you don't believe in such a thing?"
She could tell that–
"I fear you may not have a career in espionage ahead of you, Miss Fall. Your feelings seem to project onto your face quite readily."
Ah. Right.
"…No. I don't believe that."
Glynda Goodwitch was silent for a while after that, seemingly contemplating what best to say.
"May I inquire as to why?" The woman asked.
"…What do you expect me to say?"
They were the wrong words, and Cinder knew it the moment they'd left her mouth. She watched as the woman before her visibly winced, and she found herself much the same.
"…Cinder, may I ask you something? You may feel free not to answer if you wish."
That sentence had Cinder's heart racing for a multitude of reasons. One was that the woman before her might genuinely be uncovering more and more about her. Two was that, namely, Cinder had no real desire to share anything about herself… or at least, she didn't think she did.
But perhaps most prominently was…
Glynda had called her Cinder.
"I think you're going to ask regardless, no?"
"No. I won't. Not if you don't want me to. If you'd like me not to ask, then I won't ask."
Cinder opened her mouth, almost letting more damning words spill out, before she shut it, letting out a shaky breath.
"…Ask."
"Are you sur–"
"Ask."
Glynda hesitated, hovering on the edge of saying something with her lips slightly ajar.
And then she spoke.
"Has anyone ever asked you if you're okay with something before they did it?"
Cinder was fairly certain she didn't have to answer that question; that the look upon her face, that her eyes, her brow, all of it would answer for her. It was a good thing, too, given that at that moment, she wasn't sure she could've spoken.
"…Oh." Glynda murmured.
Yes. It seemed 'Oh' would suffice.
"So what?"
"So–" The professor sounded appalled. "Cinder, you… oh gods, how long did you…"
Cinder looked away, trying to find something to do with her faculties. Eventually, she settled on reaching out to the glass of water in front of her, taking it and sipping from the rim.
It tasted of iron, now, though perhaps that was more to do with the blood in her mouth.
"…Do you want me to tell you?"
The woman just stared at her.
"No. I don't want you to tell me anything you're not comfortable with. You've… gods know you've been made to do too much you didn't want to already."
Cinder just stared down into a dwindling liquid in her cup. Idly, she turned the glass, causing the fluids inside to spin around the edge in a counterclockwise pattern as her thoughts roamed.
A long time ago, she'd come to the conclusion that revealing what'd happened to her would've been no different to asking for help, or pity. No different than acting weak, feeble, helpless. But when she'd spoken with Emerald before, when she'd told her follower some of her history, of what'd happened to her, she'd felt almost…
Well, the experience had been almost freeing, in an odd sense, and so…
"What if I wanted to tell you?" Cinder asked, still not looking up at the woman.
There was a few second long pause, then, and Cinder couldn't help the way she gripped the glass in her hands, couldn't help the way a crack ran up the side as she squeezed subconsciously, as some of the contents within began to dribble down its side.
"…Then I'd be honored to hear."
Cinder released the glass, setting it back down on the coffee table before her.
It didn't stop leaking, though. No, just because the pressure had let up, didn't mean it suddenly repaired itself.
Still broken. Still seeping.
Eventually, it would be entirely empty.
But perhaps it wasn't quite yet.
"…OK."
And so, Cinder did.
/
Cinder didn't go about telling the entire truth of what'd happened in her past; nor, obviously, had she clued the woman in on just who it was she currently served, and what it was that was her objective here.
She told the woman of the orphanage where she'd been kept. How she'd never remembered having parents, or even a birth mother. She'd been sold as a slave – and she'd changed things so that she was a handmaiden working out of Mistral, because she was fairly certain there was still a warrant out for her arrest to this day for the killing of Rhodes in Atlas – and worked half to death for her entire life.
And then when she'd been fifteen, she'd simply found the time to escape. She rather pointedly hadn't murdered three civilians, and an adult huntsman.
Because no matter how comfortable she felt around the woman – unduly, some part of Cinder felt the need to add – she still wasn't quite that comfortable. Not enough to admit to murder, no matter how justified she'd always felt it had been.
"…You had it so hard."
It was a damning thing to hear, really. It forced Cinder to finally look up, to finally meet those verdant eyes, to see the pity there within.
But there wasn't just pity, either. No.
Hanging in there along with it was an indignance at the very world. An anger at what she'd just heard.
And for some reason, Cinder's brow creased.
"…Yes, I suppose I did."
Silence reigned again. It seemed the only thing that had any real dominion in this tiny room.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Cinder immediately shot back. "I've long since moved past it."
"Allow me to turn a phrase you used earlier back on you, Ms. Fall," Glynda Goodwitch's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit."
Cinder flinched backwards, so caught off guard by the woman using such a vulgar phrase. "Wha–"
"You are not over anything. You…" Glynda sighed, looking away. "Events in our childhoods affect us more deeply than events at any other points. You're saying that you were effectively a slave for your entire early life. Used, abused, taken advantage of… And you're then going to tell me that you've gotten over that, without any professional assistance, and with your eyes carrying within them that…"
The woman trailed off, though Cinder found herself subconsciously reaching up towards her eye, wondering just what the woman had been about to say.
"Ms. Fall. It is no crime, nor shame, to receive help."
Cinder couldn't help an indignant scoff at that.
"You disagree, I take it?" Ms. Goodwitch eyed her.
"I learned quickly in my childhood that no one would help me. That if I wanted help, the only person I'd be receiving it from was myself."
"And that's not your fault. Not remotely." Glynda Goodwitch fought on. "Life dealt you one of the worst hands it could've. You were horribly mistreated, abused at every turn, left with no one to rely on–"
"You know what's funny?"
It took Cinder a moment to realize she'd spoken. To realize that it'd been her who'd cut off the woman in front of her.
Some part of her, the part of her that was Cinder Fall, perhaps, seemed to cry out for her to stop. This wasn't the time, nor the place, nor the person she should be speaking about this to. And yet, Cinder's lips parted, and she kept going.
"I did have someone to rely on. I did place my trust in someone. And do you want to know what happened?" Cinder practically spat. "In the end, when I needed them, when I really, truly needed him, he didn't do a damned thing to help me! He did everything he could, of course he did, up until it would've meant he had to stick his neck out a little, maybe take a risk for my sake, and then oh no, he was back to being the same as everybody else!"
Cinder wasn't entirely sure when she'd taken to her feet, when she'd stood from the couch and hovered over the coffee table in front of her. When she began to scream directly into the face of the teacher who'd been there for her, the one person who genuinely seemed to care on this miserable, godless rock.
But she knew most of all that this had to stop.
She forced herself to break eye-contact, taking great, heaving breaths to try and get her breathing back under control. She wasn't doing a terribly good job of it, in all honesty, for they came out raspy and harsh. Still, she had had more than enough practice during her time at Evernight. Salem had always found her temper almost humorous, but…
When the woman was genuinely annoyed by Cinder… she'd never been afraid to show it. And if Cinder pushed farther, stayed angry when Salem desired her calm…
Then she paid for it.
And so, using those lessons she'd learned, she made herself calm down, until she was the utter picture of neutrality, until there was nothing on her face, no further revelation about who she was and what had happened to her.
Cinder Fall. In complete control.
"My apologies." She spoke evenly. "I did not mean to shout."
"Why do you hide yourself, Cinder?"
She was lucky she'd already been holding back her emotions when the woman spoke, for if she hadn't, she might've been caught off guard by those words.
But still, to answer that question…
"…Because no one has ever wanted to see me."
Because when she'd been a child, cleaning the grotesque statues of Grimm inside the Glass Unicorn, no one had ever come over to see if she was alright. No one had asked if the reason why she leant her head against them as she cleaned was because she was too fatigued to truly stand. They never questioned when she came to get their dry cleaning why the bags under her eyes were so horribly swollen, why she was always so out of it.
And so, she'd determined then one simple truth.
She, Cinder, was invisible.
And it was at that time that she'd made a decision.
That no matter what, Cinder Fall would not be.
"I'm sorry."
She just shook her head. "I don't want your pity."
"Then… I'll work to right it."
"What?"
Glynda stood as well from her place in the chair opposite her, pushing it back so that the two of them stood almost eye to eye on opposite sides of the coffee table between them.
"I want to help. I want to try and help you, Ms. Fall."
She wanted to scoff almost on instinct, but…
Perhaps it was the fact that it was her, the woman who she had those inane feelings for, purely physical feelings, her mind tried to chime in with, but…
"…And how would you help, exactly?"
"I'm… not sure yet. But even so, that's not going to stop me." She shook her head. "I promise, Ms. Fall. I'm not…"
And then the woman's gaze met her own, crystal clear and filled with a determination Cinder had never seen before in her life. There was something inside that gaze that rooted her to the spot, that had her genuinely wanting to listen.
"I won't be like those people who passed you by without seeing you." Glynda Goodwitch spoke. "I won't look away. I won't let you be invisible. I promise."
Cinder just stared at the woman, her normally hard gaze feeling so horrible vulnerable in that singular moment of time. It took everything she had not to want to storm out of the room, to run from the boiling feeling in her gut, the way her stomach seemed to be spinning end over end.
And yet… and yet, some part of her didn't want to run at all. No. It desired, more than anything, to stay right there. To just exist in this little room, in this little moment of time, for as long as it possibly could.
Perhaps it was her weakness.
Though she could not entirely disagree with it.
"…I'll hold you to that." She practically whispered, feeling like some grand fool.
"Please do." The woman across from her smiled. "It seems we both a few things to work on, don't we? I have to be more open to complements, and I have to make sure you're seen. And you…"
Cinder found herself perplexed. "What do I have to do?"
"You have to want to enjoy your life."
Cinder found her jaw once more hanging open as a small buzzing noise cut into the conversation. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Glynda to look down at her skirt, and to reach into a pocket and pull from out of it her scroll. She read something on it, before letting out a weary-sounding sigh, and pocketing the device again.
"Something the matter?" Cinder found herself asking before she could convince herself otherwise.
"Oh, it's nothing." The professor waved away her concern. "An old flame of mine is coming back to the city and messaging me about getting together for dinner sometime. It's nothing you should worry yourself about."
On the contrary, suddenly Cinder was fairly sure she had yet to hear anything in this conversation that she was more concerned with.
"Who is it, exactly?" She said a bit too interestedly, leaning forward.
Ms. Goodwitch seemed to catch onto that, for she raised a solitary eyebrow, her lips curling upwards in mirth. "Oh, a bit of a gossip, are we, Ms. Fall?"
If she weren't so dead set on obtaining this knowledge, she might've found the time to be embarrassed.
Glynda Goodwitch just chuckled. It wasn't the same laugh that had reminded her of windchimes, and without really thinking about it, Cinder found herself longing to hear that sound again.
"I suppose there's no harm in it. It isn't exactly public knowledge, but I was in a relationship with General James Ironwood of Atlas for a good while, about… six or seven years back?" The woman elucidated. "He and I had our differences, and so we split amicably, though, well, it seems every time he comes to visit, the two of us end up meeting up again."
Cinder probably shouldn't have openly been reacting to receiving what was, in all honestly, pretty mundane news. Of course, General Ironwood was coming to Beacon – it had been a part of their plan for months that he attend the Vytal Festival – and yet…
There was really something else on her mind.
"…Oh." Cinder let out.
Glynda Goodwitch leaned forward; her brow drawn down in concern. "Is something the matter, Cinder?"
"No." She lied. Quite obviously. It really wasn't her best work as a terrorist infiltrator. "Definitely not. Just going to… escort myself out."
"Oh. Well, have a pleasant evening, Ms. Fall. I just want you to know that I've enjoyed our conversation." The woman's smile was almost radiant. "More than anything, I'm happy that you trusted me enough to have this talk with me at all."
"I… yes." Cinder espoused, before her brain tried to get her to say quite literally anything at all of substance. "I… I as well."
Clearly, her brain was consorting with the enemy.
Glynda Goodwitch just chuckled. "I will see you later, Ms. Fall."
"Yes…" She spoke, her mind still wandering, thinking about how exactly she was going to go about approaching this new…
Situation.
"See you later."
/
A knock on the Chamomile door had Mercury's eyebrows drawing together. He shot Neo a look, asking if she knew who that was, and received only a tired shrug in answer. She immediately went back to reading 'Ninjas of Love – Volume 23' – How many damned smut novels could one author print!? – leaving Mercury effectively on his lonesome.
Which meant it was probably up to him to answer the door.
He sighed as he stood up and made his way towards the entrance to their dorm room. He pulled it open and stared into the face of the leader of their 'sister team'.
"Arc." Mercury addressed him casually. "'Sup?"
"Ah, uh… nothin' much." Jaune greeted him, looking behind him and into their dorm room. "… Is it just you here?"
"Nah, Neo's here too."
"Neo?"
Oh, shit.
"Mint. Sorry," Mercury said with a laugh, relying on acting chops he definitely didn't possess. "We watched this movie the other day about a dude in this weird virtual world thing, and there was like a red pill and… and a blue pill too…" Mercury trailed off, really struggling for something to say. "Anyways, we gave her that as a nickname."
"Oh, okay. Gotcha." Jaune said, somehow buying that. "Well, uh… I actually wanted to ask you guys something."
"Alright." Mercury said, willing to hear just about anything to get the topic away from that little improv stunt. "Shoot."
"Well, I'm from a little village a way's out of Vale called Domremy." Jaune began, twiddling his thumbs, and rocking from side to side nervously. "It's a sort of retirement community, honestly it's not all that interesting a place… Uhm… I'm not selling this very well… I was wondering… well, I'm going to need to apologize to my parents for uh… leaving home and not telling them I was coming here?"
Mercury raised an eyebrow. "Is this building to something, or?"
"Well… every year, the village holds a winter festival to celebrate the turning of the seasons, and…"
Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from Mercury, before, with a deep breath, he turned back.
"Well, I was wondering if you guys from Chamomile… would wanna' come?"
/
There was quite a lot for Glynda Goodwitch to be thinking about as she sat alone that night at her desk. In fact, there was so much to be thinking about, that she thought about perhaps just… not thinking about it. Giving herself a break for once.
She would not have been Glynda Goodwitch if this had any chance of occurring, so of course, this did not happen.
Her conversation with Ms. Fall had been… eye-opening for certain. Learning that the girl had been, effectively, a slave for the good majority of her life… it was hard to accept. It would've been harder, still, to hear that the girl had had no one to rely upon. But to hear that she had trusted someone, and then been let down?
Perhaps that was what had struck Glynda the hardest.
Watching Ms. Fall shake with rage as she'd confronted Glynda with that truth, her eyes gleaming with fury… it'd been difficult for her to not want to reach across and hug the poor girl.
But Glynda had gotten the impression that Cinder was perhaps worse with physical affection than even Emerald had been. At the very least, Emerald would've grown up on the street, where she could've fought back against anyone who tried to beat or abuse her. Cinder, on the other hand…
She wouldn't have had any choice but to take it.
And so, Glynda had held herself back. Because at the end of the day, no matter how much it'd hurt her to do so, it would've been worse to make poor Cinder suffer.
She'd done enough of that for one lifetime. If Glynda could help it, she wouldn't again.
And then came the other topic.
'I was wondering if you might want to go to dinner on the 27th." James' message had conveyed. 'I hear there's a rather high-class restaurant in the south of Vale. Villa Avitas. I could get the two of us a reservation if you'd like?'
She'd yet to answer the man's message, though luckily the twenty-seventh was still three weeks away, and it would be on a weekend during which she might actually be able to have the time to attend. It seemed the man had thought of that when inviting her.
…He always had been so accommodating.
Glynda shook her head, muttering a bit petulantly to herself.
"We are not doing this right now." She supplied as answer to her brain.
Suddenly, however, a thought came to her about something she'd forgotten about.
The cracked glass!
Ms. Fall had cracked the glass Glynda had gotten for her when she was grappling with her feelings earlier. She didn't at all mind the loss of a single glass, not when compared against what poor Cinder was dealing with. Still, if she didn't clean it up now, she might find herself with razor-sharp shards in the carpet, and that was a recipe for a trip to the hospital.
She moved over to her coffee table, found the offending glass, and…
Found that the crack had, somehow, been repaired.
What…?
She turned the glass around, looking for any signs of the offending crack, but in its place was, instead, a slightly warped, but undeniably whole glass. It felt as if the sides had been melted and joined back together.
When had…?
It wasn't the most graceful, or elegant of patch-jobs. There was an indentation of a hand semi-embossed into it, as if someone had quite literally sculpted the glass back to shape and done a not-so terribly grand job of it. And yet…
Even still, Glynda simply found herself smiling.
What a gentle soul. Glynda thought to herself, as she took the glass over to the sink, washed it, and set it back in her cabinet.
End Chapter 10
I actually really enjoyed writing this chapter up. It was definitely a fun one.
AND NOW, IN PRO LEAGUE OF LEGENDS NEWS: All but one team has qualified to the world championships (Turkey still has to determine their seed, Istanbul wildcats vs 1907 Fenerbace) but I've gotta' say it's shaping up to be an interesting year. I think GENG has it all but in the bag, they just seem like the best team in the world, but I could see JDG, or really any of the chinese teams taking it as well.
Of course, I also hold out hope for NA, as I do every year, but I know that is but a fleeting dream in reality.
Anyways, league corner over, see you all next week!