21: The Gift

Alexa stared into the mirror, frowning at the face that frowned back at her. People were hard work. As easily sociable and social as the half elf had been raised to be, the finer details of people sometimes eluded her. As it had been far too frequently recently, she was thinking about the Edgewaters again.

It wasn’t that Alexandrie was uncomplicated. Far from it, in fact. It was that the Edgewaters somehow managed to compete with that complexity. The result? Frowning in the mirror after inviting a lukon to her room and wondering whether she would actually visit - and what Alexa would do if that actually happened.

“You know what happens when you seduce people? They get seduced.” If nobility were a form of warfare, and movement could be described as noble,  Alexandrie was furiously waving a flag of surrender. She wasn’t sure what it was about Glitter Delta Cove, but she couldn’t say she hadn’t enjoyed her time here.

They would hopefully be getting a guide and going into the Uondeerveld soon. Perhaps the dark and quiet would give her some perspective. Time to get her mind (and apparently body) in check. She was somewhat sad to be leaving (despite the fact that Genofeva knew they were here), but La Chanson tugged at her mind. She’d already been restless most of the day. Perhaps Maman was right. Keep your mind busy or it will wander to places you don’t intend. 

Le problème, Maman, c’est que je pense trop.

Milkshake? Despite the fact that he’d chosen entirely the wrong flavour, she’d been surprised when Spider said he’d brought one for her - that he’d thought of her - even if Lucas had drunk it. Simple gifts back home had come from Maman et Papa…family (which, of course, included Vee), sometimes even Emily…but friends?  Gifts were a display of status, of ability and proof of wealth or strength. Was a milkshake a gift? And if so, in what way did he mean it to be construed? Spider, to now, had been quiet - focused (it seemed) on what they were doing, where they were going, looking everywhere but where they were. There were times he looked at her that she wondered whether he was looking at her as a person or a liability. 

It was hard to blame him. 

But something as innocuous as a milkshake…

Many a boy had offered Alexa expensive, rare, beautiful things - many a girl had done the same. All had motives, all had intentions. What was the intention here?

Byron had given her a gold embroidered kerchief, but it had been embroidered with both their initials, and Maman had said the intention was that she cherish it, not use it. It sat (unless someone had moved it) upon her dressing table back home. They’d never been formally engaged, so she hadn’t formally written to tell him she did not reciprocate his affections… and besides, was he affectionate, lustful or was it her status he wanted? Maman had warned her about him, but before she’d truly wanted to do anything about the situation (it was fun to be wanted), La Chanson became more important and crowded thoughts of him from her mind.

The frown in the mirror grew deeper. It had been weeks - possibly months - since she’d thought of him, and now he kept appearing in her mind seemingly at random. Why now?

Spider’s behaviour…after the awful night they’d just had, seemed softer, kinder. Thought it was difficult to know why, his questions about La Chanson felt less accusatory, more…curious. In fact, besides Lucas (who simply seemed excited) they all seemed pensive today. There was something about almost dying that reminded one how very alive they were, and how fragile that life was. Should she live it to its fullest or try to extend it? Was that her decision to make? Maybe it was the only decision she could make.

Alexandrie meant what she said to Vee: She didn’t want to kill the sorceress, but she would. Spider had asked the same sort of question, she mused, as she sat on the bed unbraiding and rebraiding her hair distractedly.

“What if it said: Kill your friends?”

As if death were the worst thing she could do to someone. As if death were the thing she was most afraid of. As if she hadn’t already considered that La Chanson might be leading her to be exactly the sacrifice Genofeva wanted but in a different place entirely. Or not - perhaps she would do that thing worse than death. Or be asked to. Told to. Asked.

Whatever it was, Grandmère hadn’t told her what she’d known, even when she knew Alexa was hearing La Chanson. She hadn’t told Alexa what she knew, despite the fact that the inability to complete the task almost broke her.

And now Alexandrie had a task. The same one? Perhaps.

Perhaps.

And for all that she knew of Grandmère, the idea that she could do what Grandmère could not concerned, confused and pleased her by turns. To have been chosen as someone who could do a task for so beautiful an entity was a wondrous thing. The excitement on Lucas’ face when he was talking about La Chanson was exactly how she felt when she gave in to the magic it offered, when it sang her to sleep, when it greeted her as she came to consciousness. If it didn’t feel so close, so much a part of her, she would call it divine. That Grandmère had refused it…whatever it was must have been worse than death, or she could not understand why Grandmère would refuse. Alexandrie did not think herself better than Grandmère - didn’t think she ever could be. Grandmère was brave, daring, shocking, powerful, magical - all without the help of La Chanson. 

Alexa was Alexa: Granddaughter of Alaina Donadieu. 

Expected to make a choice. 

And she wouldn’t know if the decision was the right one until she’d made it.

Weary, she curled up on the bed, wishing she were still small enough to climb into Chevalier’s lap and plead for a story. To know that there, curled up and sleepy, she was perfectly protected. She slept poorly most nights now - thoughts circled and circled - soft beds felt somewhat uncomfortable after so much time on the ground - or maybe it was the knowledge that the journey was not over.

Her fingers absently tapped to the rhythm of La Chanson. Lucas’ excitement had almost broken her heart. All this time and care to bring him to understand how powerful La Chanson was and maybe even to begin to trust it - only for Genofeva to sour that victory with fear. She’d wanted to be happy for him, had wanted it so much - to be happy for him, and for her, but…

And why? Why? Why Lucas? She’d spent a lot of time wondering why she had been chosen and not Maman - why one brother and not the other? Had she influenced it in some way, or was it like Chevalier said, that Lucas was Lucas and he had his own task to fulfil? Had he considered that? They were the same now, with things that must be done. Did he know what it was he should be doing? Did he know more than she?

He wanted it. He had been given the power La Chanson had to offer and he wasn’t running from it anymore. Spider said he didn’t want to. He finally wanted to learn more.

She rolled to face the ceiling. 

It was powerful, the allure and attention of La Chanson. It was powerful to feel so…powerful. That was what he said. It had a “kick to it”. Just what a soldier needed, after all. More power. Enough to beat their foes.

Not yet.

Her mind’s eye skimmed the damage to his organs that she hadn’t been able to heal. She would protect him until he was fully healed. As long as he would allow her to. If that meant staying close and giving of her abilities to make sure he was alright, she would.

For all her mockery of Spider’s abilities, she cared for him. Protecting Lucas meant protecting the stoic Araignée, who stood and watched and said little. Whatever had happened to Spider, Alexa didn’t want to bring more grief upon him.

Perhaps the milkshake was a joke. Perhaps it was an initiation of friendship.

Regardless of what they thought of her, Alexandrie cared for the Edgewaters more than she ever thought she could in such a short time.