Yo!
I guess my upload day is becoming more fluid? I don't really know.
Anyways here's the chapter!
Chapter 38
Mercury's return to the Chamomile dorm heralded what Cinder had first assumed would be the end of the evening.
He'd entered in looking tired, waved their way, and then promptly went straight to sleep. The man was out like a light, and though Cinder studied the look on his unconscious face, she gleamed no further information from his sleeping form.
It appeared she would not be learning anything else this evening.
Or, well, that was what she'd thought, up until there was another knock on their door. This one was even more unexpected than the last for Cinder, given that it was now quite easily cresting midnight.
She recognized that knock, though. Recognized the chosen rhythm of the person she herself felt oddly bound to. Emerald did too, if the way that she shrunk away ever so slightly from the door was anything to go by.
She stood and made her way over with less hurry in her step than she perhaps wished to project, but regardless, she eventually arrived, and pulled open the door.
And standing there, looking oddly affected by something, was…
"Glynda." She smiled, and it was an honest smile. "I… didn't expect you this late. What are you doing here?"
Glynda paused for a moment at that. She seemed genuinely caught by the question, for some reason.
"…Nothing." She spoke, shaking her head and letting out a quiet, mirthless chuckle beneath her breath. "I guess I just… I wanted to see you."
Oh.
Oh.
"Oh."
That… that was…
…Cinder found herself liking whatever new emotion it was that swam throughout her breast at that. The warmth that seemed to try and encompass her very soul, burning cooler than the Fall Maiden's fire, but no less powerfully.
It must've shone on her face – and realistically, with the way her cheeks were burning, it was probably rather obvious – because Glynda's mood seemed to improve by the smallest bit at her reaction.
"I'm sorry to bother you so late at night. I just was… thinking of you. There's… there's a lot going on right now."
It seemed they had that in common, at least.
"Would you mind…" Glynda paused, took a breath, and then continued. "If you're not going to sleep, then would you like to accompany me to my office?"
Cinder…
Well, she'd never been one to turn down Glynda's invitations, had she?
The trip to the woman's office was entirely uneventful. Cinder occasionally glanced at Glynda out of the corner of her eye, but she wasn't looking her way. If anything, Cinder would've said that Glynda had almost firmly planted her gaze on what was ahead of her, and was trying to block out everything else.
Cinder would know, given she'd been in that position before.
Something was bothering her. It was rather obvious to Cinder, at least.
The lights were off in Glynda's office when the two of them entered. That was odd, given she'd assumed Glynda had come from here to her dorm room. That she potentially hadn't, well…
"I'm sorry." Glynda spoke, flicking on the light and letting out a sigh as she stepped into her kitchenette and leaned atop the bar counter. "I just… things are very hectic. With the Vytal Festival going on, with Roman Torchwick's arrest, with the intruder into the CCT, and…"
Cinder nodded her head, feeling the smallest bit of guilt gnawing at her at thinking that she had some hand in Glynda's down mood. It was a useless emotion, and she did everything she could to shed it a moment later, but…
It stayed, as with everything else about Glynda Goodwitch, it stayed with her.
"I confess that I have not brought you here for any real purpose." Glynda spoke as she turned to look at her, taking out a mug from her cabinet, filling it with water, and taking a teabag out. "I just… wanted to see you. I'm sorry, I've said that already."
"You're fine." Cinder assured her, stepping into the space of Glynda's room, before doubling back around.
Glynda's kitchenette stood at the very front of the room, immediately to the right of the entryway. It was flanked on one side by the hallway wall, but on the other side was a thin bar that had been built into the right wall.
She rested her elbows atop it as she looked at Glynda, truly looked, and tried to diagnose just what it was she was struggling with.
"…Are those the only things on your mind?"
The way that Glynda stiffened indicated to her that no, they were not.
"I am… dealing with a variety of matters that I also cannot discuss with you. I'm sorry."
"No, that's fine."
She understood, of course, that as a member of Ozpin's inner circle, she would be privy to an awful lot of information that was kept secret from the general public. She could not talk to her about the Maidens, nor about the virus they likely suspected was inside the CCT. Nor…
Nor whatever other thing there was that had hung between them, ever since the dance. Emerald had suggested it was simply nerves, but…
…
Cinder had never had very good luck. Some people were born into wondrous families, or born rich, or at least given something. She'd been born an orphan, given nothing, and sold into slavery. She'd been abused, and mistreated, and trodden upon in every moment of her life.
She understood that she was unlucky.
So perhaps that was why her mind was humoring a possibility, then. A miniscule, impossible thing that simply couldn't be the case.
…It couldn't be.
By the time she'd snapped out of her own mind, it was to see Glynda placing a mug inside of the microwave, and setting it on a three-minute timer. The gentle hum of the device was the only sound in the small office as both Cinder and Glynda seemed to struggle to say anything as the latter turned around, resting against the bar from the opposite side.
…
Cinder was not exactly an honest person.
She was a thief, someone who stole, who took, until she had what she desired. She was a warrior, too, but a crafty one. She could and would fight those foolish enough to attack her head-on, but if she could, she utilized every method she possessed to make sure that when the encounter finally happened, as it inevitably would, it was so far skewed in her favor that she had not a chance of losing.
That the battle had been won long before it was fought.
…
But in that moment, Cinder found herself wanting to be honest. This woman in front of her… perhaps it was her influence that had made her like this. That had begun to encompass her, and change her, and…
"…It meant a lot to me when you said that."
Glynda looked up at her, her eyes having widened. "When I said…?"
"That you simply wanted to see me." Cinder admitted, and it was an admittance, what she was about to say. "I…"
…She felt weak, for how she hesitated then. For how this little, tiny reality of her life was holding itself inside of her, refusing to be unleashed. Why? Why could she not admit something so simple? Was she truly so pathetic?
Perhaps it was the self-flagellation that finally parted her lips, but whatever it was, after a few moments time, she managed to continue.
"When I was a child, in the orphanage I grew up in, I was… lonely, I suppose. I was in an odd sort of age demographic. There were the older children, who were around twelve or thirteen, and the younger children, around five or six. I… rested in between. I was maybe… eight or nine, at the time? I don't know for certain. But… I was actually an energetic child. I know that might be hard to believe…"
She went silent. A second passed, and she looked up to see Glynda staring at her in silence, evidently listening to what she had to say.
…She had expected Glynda to interrupt. She wasn't… why had she expected that? Glynda hadn't ever been like that. No matter how boring cinder was being, or overly emotional, or pathetic, or…
…She never interrupted her. She listened, and paid attention to her, and comforted her, and…
"…Well, regardless, the other children wanted nothing to do with me. I was too old for the younger children, and too young for the older children. Besides that, well… the orphanage I was kept in… I told you that it was a front for a human trafficking organization, correct?"
"You did." Glynda said with a nod. "You said that you were sold into work as a handmaiden, correct?"
Cinder, she… she didn't recall that part of the story she'd apparently spun so very long ago, but evidently Glynda did. She'd… it seemed she always remembered, didn't she? She always listened, and paid attention, and was genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that was so… so…
"…I was never wanted." She finally managed to force out of her lips, and it hurt even as a part of her felt freer. "At the orphanage. Or… or where I ended up. No one wanted me. No one paid attention to me. The… the mansion I worked in," It would do for now as a cover for the Glass Unicorn, given that a gaudy hotel and a mansion were similar enough, "Told me above all else that I was to blend in at all times. That it was best if I was not seen. That even if someone stepped directly in front of me… that I should be invisible to them."
She let out a laugh. That was another thing Glynda had done, wasn't it? To promise that no matter what, she wouldn't let her be invisible. She had… the way she was looking at her right now, and listening to her, and paying attention to her… it… a part of her was alight with emotion at that.
Why? It was such a little thing. Such a simple, asinine thing to care about, and yet…
Her eyes burned with feeling. She leaned her head back, willing that feeling, whatever it was, to retreat back into her skull.
She would not break down over this. She'd done that more than enough.
"…It's always been like that." She said, and despite whatever that had been, she did not think she'd felt this comfortable in her life. "From the orphanage, to the mansion I ended up, and even after I escaped, when I ended up with–"
Her voice ceased.
Glynda looked at her oddly, before her face morphed into a sympathetic frown.
Cinder imagined that was because of the way that she'd frozen up almost entirely, her face blanching.
She'd…
Cinder had almost said Salem's name.
She'd almost just… in the middle of Glynda's room, during one of the softest, most comfortable moments of her life, she'd nearly gone and taken a torch to everything. Set her life aflame, her heart aflame, this new, unknown emotion glowing inside of her aflame.
Glynda sat forward, the emotion in her eyes intensifying.
"…Cinder? Are you okay?"
"I…" She tried to speak, but nothing would come out. Her voice was shaky at best, but the fact that it had been so close… "I'm…"
She had been so close. So close to ruining everything. Her brain couldn't even fathom that. A single word? Had it really been so close? She'd been milliseconds away from being forced to… forced to…
…Would she have been forced to fight Glynda? Or would it have been far worse than that?
She wasn't even conscious of the fact that Glynda was speaking to her until a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, and drew her into a hug. It was loose, evidently meant to leave her feeling like she could still escape. That she wasn't trapped.
"Breathe, honey. You're alright." Glynda's voice cut through the chaos of her mind like a scalpel. "You're safe. I'm right here. Breathe with me, okay?"
Breathe, honey.
Honey.
Honey honey honey honey honey honey honey honey honey honey honey honey honey ho–
Cinder gasped as she regained full control of her faculties, suddenly putting all of her weight on Glynda. The woman caught her, as she always seemed to, and supported her. slowly, ever so slowly, she allowed Cinder to take control of her own weight again, and when she was able to stand on her own, she was left to look into Glynda's eyes, to see the worry hanging within them.
And yet, the only thing that Cinder could think about was…
"…What did you… call me?"
Her voice was so weak. So feeble. Like the very sound she emitted was attempting to walk upon eggshells. As if the magic of whatever moment that Cinder had entered into would shatter if she said a thing.
Glynda's eyes widened. It seemed she hadn't even realized she'd done it.
That…
Cinder wasn't sure why, but the idea that it had been instinctual, something borne of the heart, and not the mind, was…
It meant more, to her.
"I… it's… well…" Glynda would not look at her, but Cinder was not so much a fool as to think that was because she did not want to, or any other such nonsense. No, like Cinder, she too was overwhelmed by her emotions in that moment, wasn't she?
Cinder would not acknowledge the way her entire face was blazing. That way laid only madness.
And it was as the two of them were staring at each other, hovering in that moment, just when Cinder thought something might happen, might change…
That the microwave behind them beeped, causing them both to jump.
That was followed by the both of them laughing awkwardly, trying to pretend that they didn't look like complete and total idiots.
One of them had to say something after that. Cinder… well, the silence did her no favors, currently, what with the possibility of what could have happened still weighing on her mind.
"…Is there anything you'd like to discuss?" Cinder asked eventually.
It was, perhaps, the single most obvious attempt to change the subject that anyone had ever provided.
It must've been a sign of just how desperate Glynda was that she took it with no complaints.
"Actually… there is something I want to discuss with you." Glynda spoke as she sipped from the rim of her mug of tea.
Her hands were… they were not shaking, certainly, but neither were they steady, either.
There really was something, then.
Cinder found herself curious.
"…This is going to sound a bit odd." Glynda said, and though she laughed a moment later, as if to try and make light of her own words, it contained no mirth. No joy.
"…Do you have a favorite Fairytale?"
Cinder found an eyebrow arcing up at the woman's words, not entirely certain as to how this might be going.
To answer honestly, fairytales had never been the kind of thing that Cinder was partial to.
…Or, well, that was now, she supposed. How she looked at things from her current position. As a child…
As a child, there had been something wondrous about hearing tales of magical princesses, and grumpy old wizards, and dragons that soared across the skies. About tales of bravery, and loyalty…
And Destiny.
But one could only experience the crushing reality of the world so many times before they learned such notions were foolhardy. That hoping for better things, hoping that a dashing prince or a gallant knight might come and whisk her away… was a meaningless reverie.
Her life had been too cruel to linger on fairytales.
But… if she had a favorite, she supposed it would be…
"Have you heard the tale of the four seasons?" She asked Ms. Goodwitch.
It was, clearly, the wrong thing to say. She recognized, again, that she had grown too comfortable, too at ease, because to say such a thing was idiotic at best.
The tale of the four seasons, after all, was real.
"I… yes." Glynda managed to force out between her lips, almost wincing. "Four sisters visit a callous old man, and are gifted magic for showing him kindness."
"Yes…"
Glynda stared at her. It was an appraising sort of look. The back of Cinder's neck was alight with nervous tingling, and her instincts told her rather clearly that she was in danger.
…Even as a different part of her railed against that with everything she possessed.
Glynda couldn't be dangerous. She…
…
She was the enemy, a more rational part of her reminded. One of those she would have to get through in order to take the Maiden's fire. That which she so coveted, so cherished. That which had become her goal, the entire purpose of her being for so long.
For why had she trained? Why had she pushed herself day in and day out, over, and over, and over again, when the Grimm hounded at her, and Salem rebuked and punished her, and Tyrian and Watts laughed at her? Why had she continued even then to think of the tale of the seasons, of the Fall Maiden's might.
It was her destiny to claim it. It was why Salem had christened her 'Fall' in the first place.
…
It had been given to her. Her Destiny. It had not truly been up to her to decide it. Nothing had ever been, Cinder supposed. From the very moment her consciousness had formed, she had been bandied back and forth by forces beyond her control.
An orphan. A slave. And an enforcer to the Queen of Evil herself.
…
Was that not Destiny, though? Was destiny something one could choose for themselves? Cinder had never thought of such a thing. Destiny was… it was…
Even if her desires differed… even if she wanted something… different… was it not her destiny to be the Fall Maiden?
…
Some part of her had begun to understand the truth of the matter these past few weeks. Or perhaps even months. That she no longer desired that which she once had to the same degree. Of course, the desire was still there, but it was… it was muted, and reduced.
And there was something equally as great in its place. Something which she had begun to desire with a fragment of the intensity that had been reserved for the nebulous power of the Maidens.
When she'd sat on the training room floor, panting, vomiting the remnants of her meagre meals onto the ground, and Salem had simply summoned more Grimm, and told her to get up. To tell her to earn her strength. Earn that which she was destined for.
Or… perhaps it had not been that power itself. Perhaps it had never been about anything more than making sure that that feeling… that feeling of helplessness, the same feeling she had once felt under Madame's hand, would never course through her again.
Because Salem had an uncanny ability to draw it out just the same.
Perhaps it had only ever been freedom. An escape.
And some part of Cinder suspected that that was what this was, too. That this time with Glynda, this tiny room, with its mugs of mediocre tea, far better cocoa, plush couches, warm blankets, and warmer company, were themselves an escape. That Cinder had somehow stumbled upon what she'd been looking for all this time.
But she could not have both.
It was an inevitability, the collision course that her two disparate lives, or perhaps… perhaps her two disparate destinies were on. Sooner or later, she had to choose. And that choice…
Some part of Cinder understood that that choice would break her. That she would not emerge the same as she was now.
But here… here in this quaint little room, it felt like… for maybe, just a little bit longer, she didn't have to think about such things. She could simply stay with Glynda, and sit close to her, and be…
And be warm… with no complicati–
"Cinder?"
She snapped from her head like an over-stretched rubber band, and looked up at Glynda with no small amount of shock hanging about her features.
"I… My apologies." She shook her head. "I was caught up in my own thoughts. I did not mean to ignore you."
"No, it's fine. I… I admit that I have something more to say, and was not entirely asking about your love of fairytales for my own curiosities sake."
Cinder had suspected such a thing, although she had not quite grasped the why of that particular scenario.
"Then why?"
"Actually… it has to do with that very same fairytale that you mentioned. The tale of the four seasons. Specifically… that of the four Maidens from the story."
…
And Cinder understood.
She wasn't sure why it had taken her so long, to be honest. The conclusion seemed an obvious one to come to now. And yet… perhaps there had been a part of her entirely unwilling to consider it. That those disparate lives could come together in such a way.
That even here… even here, with Glynda, in this tiny room… she couldn't escape it.
She couldn't run from destiny, not even here.
"What if I told you they were real?"
She remembered that she had to put on a quizzical expression, at the very least, perhaps a millisecond later than she should've. In her proverbial defense, it was not the kind of statement that would've drawn from anyone else a reaction more than to raise an eyebrow, and perhaps mutter 'what are you talking about?'
Cinder herself went for something similar.
"What do you mean?"
Glynda took a breath, then, shaky, and deep, as she sat down at the bar beside her. The two of them nursed their drinks in hand as they went silent for a moment, before finally, Glynda continued.
"…The power that the old wizard offered to the four maidens of Spring, Summer, Winter, and Fall… that power is real."
It was as decent a start as any, Cinder imagined. She, of course, didn't exactly know how to respond to such a thing, given she already knew the entire story. Perhaps more disbelief? Or… no. Cinder trusted Glynda. She would… she imagined that, if she truly were who she said she was, if the woman across from her was simply the woman she admired, and not…
…
…Well, regardless, she would trust her words.
"…Okay." Cinder blinked faux confusion out of her eyes.
"…That power… it is a magical one, surely, but it comes with… with drawbacks. It… The only way that the power is passed on from woman to woman is for the Maiden in question to pass away. The power then passes to the woman that was last in her thoughts. Or, barring that, to someone random across Remnant."
Cinder remained silent, despite knowing where Glynda was, inevitably, going with this.
"…And some people are after that power now." Glynda said, her voice seeming somehow small. "They attacked the Fall Maiden, a young woman named Amber, and sought to steal that power for themselves. Amber was saved from that fate, but… she is dying. She does not have long."
That… Cinder understood what it was that Glynda was getting around to. It would be hard not to, with the knowledge that she held. But, of course, she also couldn't come right out and say it. No. The persona she was playing was one of someone who held no information about this. And that meant she had to, ostensibly, play dumb.
"I… what does that have to do with me, exactly?" She tried her best to sound vaguely lost in terms of her tone.
"Ah… right."
Glynda visibly gathered herself.
"Suffice it to say, we believe that when Amber passes, the pieces and parts of the power that were stolen away from her will pull that which remains within her to her assailant, and complete themselves in whomever it is. That… that cannot happen. Ozpi–" Glynda stuttered for a moment, before a deep, suffusing scowl covered her face. "The headmaster has, in conjunction with General Ironwood, devised a piece of technology that would allow us, potentially, to control the person who would receive Amber's half of the Maiden's power. It utilizes a machine that can transfer aura from one individual to another."
That information was useful, actually, even if Cinder's brain was a bit far gone to actually appreciate it. They'd known, of course, that Ozma had something that meant they needed to act with haste, but they hadn't known the exact nature or methodology.
Still, an Aura transfer… such a thing sounded rather… wrong.
Aura was the soul given form. To transfer it to someone else, or manipulate it, was the realm of certain, very rare semblances. And those people's auras, generally, were a lot more naturally malleable because of it.
But to forcefully take another's aura…
Cinder could not imagine the side effects being positive.
That Ozpin would consider such a thing at all further proved in Cinder's mind the real, terrifying truth to the words Salem had occasionally spoken. That she had brought Remnant to its very knees time and time again, in an endless, cyclical battle with her other half.
That he would sacrifice a girl's life to war against her, even if he posed as some grand hero, proved that in Cinder's eyes.
But then, who was she to think of him that way?
"Ozpin is going to offer it to you." Glynda spoke, finally confirming that which Cinder had already known for some time. "The powers of the Fall Maiden via transfer."
Cinder feigned shock. She wasn't entirely sure how successful she was.
"That's…" Cinder took a breath, trying to think of how her persona might react to this situation. It was becoming harder and harder, lately, for her to see the gaps between her real self, and the person she was… that she was pretending to be.
"If it's for the sake of the world, then I'll do it." Cinder stated, because at the end of the day, she wanted to get the Maiden's power as soon as she possibly could.
"I understand your sentiment," Glynda countered, shaking her head with a sigh. "But this is not a decision to take so lightly. I would ask you sit on it for quite some time, as I imagine Ozpin will."
That… wasn't entirely optimal, but then again, it matched what Lionheart had gleamed from Ozpin as well. That the man would offer her the Fall Maiden's powers during the Vytal Festival.
She supposed she could wait another week. After all, she'd waited oh so long, hadn't she? What was a few more days.
…
It really was so little time.
It felt like the clock was due to strike midnight any minute now.
"Okay." She answered amicably instead of arguing the point, and for whatever reason, that seemed to surprise Glynda. "I'll take my time, then. Was that all you wished to discuss?"
"…It was." Glynda said, although she would have been unable to try and convince Cinder that there was not something else hanging about her mind now. "I… may I be entirely honest with you for a moment, Cinder?"
She raised her eyebrows, but nodded her head, otherwise acquiescing.
"Cinder…" Glynda took a breath before speaking again. "I care about you. I want you to understand that."
That… yes. Cinder knew that. She understood that, and had known of that fact for quite some time. And yet… perhaps the reason why it always took her breath away to hear it from her was because she had never had such a thing before. Had never had an emotion given so freely that felt so wondrous.
"…As do I." Cinder answered, given it seeming appropriate.
Glynda smiled a touch bashfully. "I think I've been unable to truly accept how much it is that I want to see you. Oftentimes I find myself sitting alone in my room and wishing you were there, or halfway to your dorm room after exiting from out of a meeting without even realizing I was walking that way."
Now that… that was something more…
Cinder didn't even know how to describe it, but it had her cheeks reddening ever so slightly.
And then a question came up inside her mind. It was borne not of Glynda, for she was not worthy of the doubt festering within her now, but of her entire life up until Beacon. Of the life she'd lived as an orphan, a slave, and a monstrous killer.
"Why are you… telling me this?" She asked, because it was too difficult for Cinder to simply accept that someone would say such a thing to her without reason.
And yet…
"I just wanted you to know." Glynda spoke, and though Cinder found herself rather adept at reading the truths and lies of peoples expressions… this was no lie.
"I… thank you." She felt compelled to respond. Even if the words that she tried to utter only got caught in her throat, were only absorbed into the tissue of her vocal chords, were only–
"You do not have to say anything." Glynda placed her hand atop Cinder's own. "I know these things are difficult for you."
Cinder just nodded, and that appeared to be that.
Or, well, it would've been, if not for… if not for that look in Glynda's eye. It had been present for weeks, ever since…
Ever since the night of the dance. Ever since the two of them had fought in the CCT. Of course, Glynda didn't know it had been her who she'd battled. She couldn't have known, and obviously didn't know.
They wouldn't be having this conversation… no. Cinder would probably be dead if she did know.
Cinder wasn't entirely sure what to feel about the fact that her breathing quickened, her heart skipped a beat, and her veins turned to ice at that thought.
It all hinged on so little. Every fleeting happy moment she managed to obtain here was all just…
"Cinder?"
Again, she snapped from her thoughts, looking up at Glynda and seeing that look only amplified, somehow.
"…What is it?"
"I just…" The woman took a breath, seemingly caught. Her fingers drummed along the top of the bar that stretched out in front of them, making rhythmic tapping noises along the surface. "I want you to know that I trust you, Cinder. I… I trust you quite a bit."
She wished she could read where this was going, because there was a growing feeling in the back of her skull that stated with certainty that it couldn't be anything good.
"Might I ask… Is there… anything you're keeping from me? Anything at all?"
Cinder could've sworn her heart just… stopped.
It was an instant sort of panic, like she'd been thrown into ice cold waters and was now in hypothermic shock.
Because… because that question, why would she ask it if not…
…Does she know…?
…It should've been ridiculous. Of course, she didn't know. If she'd known, then Cinder would already be behind bars, wasting away in one of Atlas' most secure cells. She'd be right next to Roman, having to listen to the man laugh at her misery as the two of them were trapped forevermore.
Glynda wouldn't simply sit on such a thing, and keep it secret.
…
…She wouldn't, right?
It had been long enough since Glynda had asked her that question that Cinder's silence might as well have counted for an answer of some kind in and of itself. She turned to see that Glynda was shooting her an uncertain, almost frightful look, as if she was scared how Cinder would answer.
And then she spoke.
"…I need you to understand something, Cinder." She urged her, urged with what felt like her entire heart. "I care about you… so much. More than I thought I did. More than I perhaps even should. So… So, no matter what… no matter what it was you told me, I think… I think I'd want to find a way to…"
Her voice trailed off.
The message had been delivered regardless, though, hadn't it?
…
Cinder had half her mind telling her that Glynda knew, and the other half reiterating that there was no way that was true. And yet…
She said she cared.
…Cinder cared too. She knew that. She had raged against the fact for long enough to be at a place where she could accept it. That she could accept that the woman in front of her was a weakness, or rather, her weakness. A weakness that…
A weakness that had caused her to make many a mistake already, today. In the last hour, she'd slipped up once, nearly slipped up again.
She… herself and Glynda, this entire thing, it was just…
There was so much. So much going on in her head. Roman arrested. Mercury and Emerald hiding things from her. Neopolitan potentially going rogue. Adam Taurus to contend with and call off. Watts and Salem to update. And then there was Glynda.
Glynda was… she was the bright spot. She had to be.
She was the person unaffected by her sins. The person she could come to and be someone else. Perhaps…
Perhaps she was the person that Cinder came to, when she no longer wanted to be Cinder Fall.
And…
And maybe… if what Glynda was saying was really, truly what she thought she was saying… then maybe she could tell her, and they'd find a way forward together. Maybe… just maybe, the two of them might find something that would fix all of this mess.
But such a thing just felt so far away. So distant for her. It was a path for a better person than her. It was a path for someone who could afford to turn away from all of this. Someone who deserved redemption.
Someone like that deserved to have Glynda look at them that way. With her eyes so full and warm and filled with the desire to forgive anything. And how… how could she look at Cinder that way if she knew?
No… Glynda was a pure, beautiful thing. White without a splotch of gray. And Cinder…
Cinder was coal and ash and fire. She burned, and blazed, and cut away at the beautiful things in the world. She took and took and took, never giving. Glynda, boundlessly giving, only ever giving, willing to surrender everything…
She'd overwhelm her. She knew that. She would, if she let her in, if she allowed herself to be pulled into her albino embrace, taint her color. If she accepted that Glynda was holding her secret from her colleagues because she cared for her… then she had corrupted her. She had ruined the ever-stalwart paladin of Beacon. The woman who would do anything to help her students. Who would care, even, for a bastard, orphaned slave. Someone who no one else had ever even looked upon.
And so… and so as to keep Glynda a purest white, like the color of fresh-fallen snow upon a frozen lake, Cinder forced herself to accept something.
Glynda did not know. This line of questioning… had nothing to do with the truth of her.
…
And perhaps that thought, too, was her running away. As she always did.
But she was a runaway. That was who Cinder was. Who she had always been. Who she would always be.
And again…
Cinder swallowed.
Again, she ran.
"…No." She finally stated, projecting a smile onto her face that couldn't have reached her eyes, for she didn't believe it herself. "There's nothing."
And she did not react as Glynda's brow creased. She did not react to the way the woman's lips, briefly, curled upwards, as if to maintain her composure. She did not react to the way that Glynda's hands briefly shook.
She did not react to the signs that all pointed to the conclusion that she had entirely dismissed. No, instead, she simply watched and waited as Glynda pulled her now cooling mug of tea up to her lips, took a sip, and set it down.
And then she turned to Cinder and said, "…Alright."
And the smile she showed her in the next moment was something that made Cinder's skin crawl. Something that made her want to take it all back, to reveal the truth, to spill every secret within her and throw herself into the woman's arms, begging forgiveness like some storybook maiden.
But that… that was not a life she would live.
She was destined to be an entirely different Maiden.
"I trust you, Cinder."
She had always been destined for Fall.
End Chapter 38
Damn I really like writing one on one scenes with Cinder and Glynda. No spoilers for the upcoming chapters, but there will be more of those coming! Currently, I'm writing chapter 45, and the reason I'm so ahead is actually so I can focus on writing my book.
I've only really just started at the moment (and I've yet to even complete a first draft) but If I ever complete that I'll probably post a reference to it or something in a comment.
Anyways, for now, I'll see you all next week!