Chapter 18 - Evernight Castle
Salem, mother of Selene, eldritch abomination, and cursed with immortality, sat in her private chambers before a small desk. Her hair was loose, her clothing comfortable. None would intrude into her private chambers. No agent of The Queen would dare, on pain and death.
Several letters were smoothed out on the surface of the desk before her, along with a scattering of printed photographs.
One letter told the story of her daughter's journeys to Mistral, with a rather bemused and graphic focus on the sufferings of a certain Huntsman upon his initial experiences riding a Nevermore.
Salem, mother of Selene, found herself smiling in a way that was mostly, but not entirely, without sympathy for the faunus.
The second letter, and corresponding photos, filled her with conflicting emotions.
Superficially, she had indeed scoffed at the photos. Simple humans, short-lived and easily misled, play-pretending that they are worthy of my daughter's affections.
And yet, Selene's words gave lie to Salem's initial reaction. Selene was clearly fond of them, and delighted, and had enclosed photos in honest hope that it would show her mother that she was well, and happy.
And that, Salem did value. Her daughter appeared happy.
Yet… it was all based on a lie. There was no human named Selene that these people met and accepted. These humans did not know her daughter. They knew a facsimile of her.
Or perhaps, that too, was unfair. Did her daughter change her personality in addition to her appearance? She knew the answer was no. If you closed your eyes, she suspected one would not know the difference in which aspect of Selene spoke.
It was on her third reading and review of that letter and the photos, as well as the clearly signed messages on the back, that her initial dismissal finally gave way to doubt, and then to a slight ache in her chest.
Family.
There was pain there. And there was a part of her, a part that would later sit in the throne room, that seethed and sought to lash out, both at that which was denied to her, and at those who could have it where she did not. She pushed that anger, that desire to hurt, where it belonged. Selene would not love her mother for such feelings.
Let the Queen of the Grimm do what she would. Let her plot and scheme in her war to bring Ozpin to ruin and despair, and to obtain the items required to bring both their sufferings to an end. Let The Queen vent her justified rage on her enemies. Yes, they had one unified goal, and as such they needed each other to accomplish that goal.
But Salem, mother of Selene, also had other goals, and paramount among those was protecting her daughter. And more than that, desperately, she wished for her daughter's love. She had nearly lost it. And its recovery, she found, had been more precious to her than any petty revenges she might imagine.
This brought her to the third and most recent letter.
Mother,
The last weeks have been very eventful. I have visited my first and second large cities. I had not imagined that there could be so many humans and faunus packed together so densely, like insects in a mound. It was debilitating at first, and I had great difficulty entering Argus. Garek was understanding and attentive, and spent several days researching mitigations and working with me. I am proud to say that I am now able to brave modest crowds, though I prefer evenings when the cities are quieter.
I have also seen, firsthand, some of the uglier sides of humans. Atlas seems to be the worst, though perhaps only because I am most familiar with it. I have seen casual bigotry that is systemic against faunus, including toward my betrothed. Likewise for the wealthy against the poor and powerless. I have felt impotent rage against those who I have seen use their positions to beat down, torture, and abuse those who cannot resist.
I find myself empathizing with some of your past actions in direction, if not degree. Garek tells me that I am, in his words, the best of what he has dubbed 'thinking peoples' for my anger regarding this. I accused him of being love blinded, and he protested greatly.
We are proceeding with our plans, as I promised to you previously, to find our own way that protects all those whom Garek and I love, but does not ally us with either of the opposing forces in the war between my Queen and a certain male immortal whom I will not name. I feel we have made progress in that respect, having discovered skilled allies that have no allegiance to either. If you request details, I will share them with you, secure in the knowledge that you will not communicate such information to those who might harm us or our friends. I will trust you.
I am also pleased to report that beyond this, I feel we have lessened the total suffering in Remnant by a miniscule amount. A young waif, Cinder, had been kept in legal slavery and tortured by a proprietor in Atlas, and with assistance from others, we removed the child, leaving her previous guardian in a state of rage and despair.
I must admit that even days later, I find that mental image immensely satisfying.
At this time, we are considering Cinder's final disposition, but I confess I find myself quickly becoming attached to her. She is clever and resilient despite her past ill-treatment, and is quickly coming to terms with a broader world she never imagined existed.
I am also continuing my training in the skills you imparted to me, as well as in defensive sparring, which Garek has focused on.
In closing, I hope you are proud of me, and I miss you dearly. In all candor, I have found great joy, but it would be trebled were you here with me.
Your loving daughter,
Selene Lumerent
PS: I believe we shall remain in Argus for additional weeks, so if you wish to send a response, the nevermore chick will see it delivered.
Salem, mother of Selene, stared at the last letter, re-reading it several times until her vision became bleary and water droplets began to stain the otherwise smooth penmanship.
It was over an hour before she was able to pick up her own pen, and begin to write a response. It took several tries, and numerous crumpled copies before she felt she had something adequate to send in return.
To my precious daughter,
I am… remarkably touched by your words, though perhaps I should not be surprised.
I know we discussed this when you were last here. But by your words, I am overwhelmed yet again with the knowledge that Your Queen and I, that we nearly made a tragic mistake, one that would have deprived you of the joy you have seen fit to share with me. Looking back, I cannot now recreate the terror and selfish fear that drove me to that decision. I suppose it is proof that even after all of these centuries, not only can I make mistakes, but I can still change, if only in some small way. For your love, I will continue to try.
I miss you, daughter. My heart aches when I walk the halls of Evernight, and do not see you, nor hear your voice. In my mind, I can hear the laughter of my child, the soft singing of my teenage girl, the confidence of my adult daughter. Your letters are a welcome lighthouse in this darkness. But daily, the Queen demands more and more of my attention, and betimes it becomes difficult. I am surrounded by naught but her agents, or servants whose primary purpose was to serve your needs rather than mine. I shall retain them, of course, and continue to utilize them, as I know you would wish it. Your quarters shall be kept ready should you return to visit or stay, and I would extend that welcome to your betrothed, and would welcome him as his family welcomed you. I realize it is more complex than this, and that too pains me.
Finally, I am both jealous and pleased that you have done for another what was done for you. No, do not protest daughter. True, I did not seek to abuse you, but I attempted to keep you for myself, and in doing so I robbed you of joys unknown. I will not do so again.
I do not ask for details, as the less I know, the less I can let slip to The Queen. I will not betray your confidences, nor hers. The Queen and I have need of each other. I can tell you that her plans tend to be long in planning and execution, as befits her lifespan, and you do have time, years perhaps, to see if your own efforts will bear fruit. I find myself in the unusual position of seeing a tiny flame of hope kindled in myself, the first in many centuries.
I remain your devoted mother,
Salem
When she had finished, she folded the paper, slipped it into an envelope and sealed it with wax. Exiting to a balcony, she inserted it back into the oiled leather pouch the prior letter had arrived in, and approached the nevermore chick, affixing the letter to its back with a small harness.
Go, and deliver this to my daughter.
The next day, Salem, Queen of the Grimmlands, held audience. Before her sat her three most loyal and valuable agents.
"What is your command, my Goddess?" Tyrian beseeched. "But tell us, and we will sacrifice our lives to see it done!"
"Though I would hope it does not come to that, Your Majesty," Watts bowed, eyes glittering with contempt for the scorpion faunus.
Hazel Rainart likewise bowed, but as was his habit, remained silent.
"I do not believe your deaths will be necessary, Tyrian. I anticipate merely another small move in the Great Game. Larger than a pawn, perhaps. Mayhap an opportunity to remove a rook or bishop from the board." She gazed at Watts. "I refer of course to your latest report, Watts."
"The location and activities of one of the old man's pets."
"Yes. Just so. You believe she can be lured into a trap?"
"She is already in Vacuo, Your Majesty, poking around ruins in the deserts south of the city. I have information on which sites she intends to visit. One in particular would provide an excellent opportunity."
"Hmmm… and what do you suggest, Watts?"
The man frowned, but knew better than to correct Queen Salem on omitting his hard-earned title. "That Hazel and Tyrian, along with a pack of Grimm, be waiting for her. The Grimm to engage initially, weakening and distracting her. Hazel and Tyrian to deliver the killing blow."
"I will consider this. Have any of you other news?"
"My Goddess, I infiltrated the hidden research site in Atlas as you commanded." Tyrian spoke, "As you predicted in your infinite wisdom, the experiments of the infidel Doctor Merlot were a failure!" He giggled. "His creations were deficient! Abominations! Deviants twisting the beautiful Grimm that serve you so lovingly, My Queen!" He sobbed. "I removed their defiling existence."
"And I, Your Majesty, secured any data available from the computers Tyrian found. It is of dubious value, but some may serve your purposes regarding hybridization. Frankly, Merlot was unworthy of his title."
"Pray continue to review this, and report to me the value of such research. And Watts, you and Tyrian were not disturbed in this process?"
"Several of Merlot's former research sites had been raided recently by Atlas teams, on a laughably predictable schedule. We had measures in place had we met one of his so-called Specialist Teams at the site, but they did not appear. I have investigated, more to assure myself that we had not been discovered than anything. It appears the Atlas forces pushed their timetable back for reasons unrelated to our activities. It is of little significance."
"Very well. Hazel?"
"As you commanded, I made initial contact with Lionheart. The fact that I could enter his sanctum and felt no fear approaching him seemed to terrify him. As your spies indicated, something has broken him. He was… pathetic."
"Good. I shall consider what… incentives… might move him to serve my purposes."
"Yes, my Queen. I also met with the head of the White Fang in Menagerie, but have not yet found them receptive to a more direct approach. Ghira Belladonna still clings to the belief that peaceful protest will yield results." Watts snorted, but Rainart continued. "A noble, but misguided effort."
"Indeed. Perhaps we can… encourage them toward enlightenment. Watts and Hazel, I wish you to evaluate opportunities to push the White Fang in a more… controversial direction. Future conflict and division would prove to work in our favor. See if there are perhaps elements that chafe under Belladonna's milder hand. And continue the search for current Maidens, and possible candidates, as I have instructed."
"Yes, My Queen."
"Have any of you other matters, or questions?"
"Your Majesty," Watts hazarded, "You instructed us that Selene was travelling Remnant with one or more companions-"
"Her activities and movements are none of your affair, as long as she does not actively oppose my efforts. As I instructed, you will not harm her, nor knowingly allow her to be killed. I have provided assurances of her safety."
"Yes, Your Majesty, but-
The Queen's eyes narrowed, and a feeling of dread power seemed to emanate from her. "Watts, Selene is not acting as my agent, nor is she one of Ozma's pawns. She approached me, and begged my leave to seek her own path in this world, one free of my guiding hand. Although I believe it will eventually serve my purposes. Think of her as an independent agent, coequal with you." She swept all of them with her stern gaze. "I command you all to act neither as her guardians, nor her enemies. Her movements are none of your affair. Be sure that I will be notified through other means if her activities warrant my, and therefore your, attention. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," the three replied.
Inside, Watts seethed.
[A/N] And another chapter focused on Evernight Castle and written from Salem's POV, further emphasizing the separation in personality and tone between Salem the mother, and Salem the Queen. As you can see, we are also beginning to hint at various Queen Salem plot elements from canon and Coeurverse that may or may not occur due to butterflies flapping their wings.
