Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hialeah used to be such a dreadful child.

At the age of three she broke her first plate, her tiny voice already fighting against her fathers booming one, her red face constantly in a scowl. Her mother used to joke about how she even came out angry, her pink face pinched up, her fists all balled up like she was ready for a fight. She was born kicking and screaming, brawling against her own mother at birth, hate pouring even at her most innocent age. 

"I could hear you saying, 'Put me back, Put me back!'", her mother tittered, a younger Hialeah on her knee. She pushed her needle through the cloth, "You didn't like the world, so you waited your sweet time until we had to force you out. That just made you mad." The thread wove through the pattern, adding a rich red to the grey needlepoint, "We didn't know what we were doing. Our life just...popped out more once you were born."

It was ironic, she was named for the rolling prairies her mother had lived on as a child, peaceful and welcoming, the soil rich and nurturing. Hialeah was a barren, craggy mountain range compared to her ancestral homeland. It didn't fit her, like a dress that was too tight, or stockings that were too large. After her name was written down on the certificate, sealing her with her not-name, her mother had tried to feed her for the first time, trying to compensate with a tender moment.

A classic mother-baby bonding moment. 

“You bit me!”, she had laughed, bouncing her on her knee, “No teeth yet and already you wanted to know the world what you thought. When your grandmother was still alive, she used to swear that it was because i sat in front of the fire too often. You must've swallowed an ember, my girl, and look how its lit you up.”

That was when she first learned what was inside of her.

Hialeah wasn’t oblivious, she knew something roiling and hot was inside of her from her first memory, a flame that couldn’t be put out. She was used to it boiling over, fire can't be controlled, and even if one tried, they always ended up burned.

It was her generator, it warmed her no matter what, even if sometimes coals and sparks shot from her mouth and burned others. She spat flames more than once a week, she used to run when she got angry, the fire inside warming her even on cold, wet days. It would seep into her legs, giving her an energy that she normally didn’t have. She was gone with a flash, the only indication the slamming screen door and the yell of her father. It burned inside of her so bright that her father almost never grabbed her wrist while dragging her back to the house, just the look itself making her return back.

Scout must’ve felt it too. He bothered almost everyone, jumping on her mother, nipping at her father, he scared the nanny goat until she couldn’t have babies and they had to sell her. But Hialeah? Her bed was always empty, when she sat by the fire, he was sitting across from her, skidding away when a spark shot from the flames. 

“He thinks I’m making it!”, she laughed one night, little legs kicking in an armchair, as the dog whined from the corner. 

Hialeah was always angry about something, especially when she was young. Plates not perfectly aligned, kisses not given in the right order, a spot of dirt on the stairs or the strange comments of her father. Before she could stop it, more wood would be added to the flame and she'd be spitting out embers. 

“It’s always something trivial with you, isn't it?”, someone, she forgot who, had sighed, picking up bits of pasta off the floor. She screamed even louder in protest, straining her small lungs to their greatest extent. They didn't understand, they never did, the sauce couldn’t touch the salad, those were two separate things. 

As a girl, Hialeah was always two separate things. She was the water and the fire, she was the dust and the gold, she was everything to her parents, and sometimes nothing at all.

So she burned.

She burned bright.

Because you just can’t ignore an open flame, until it’s burning your house, and you can’t do anything about it. 

Her mother always put it out before it became a wildfire. She was water, her thick black hair a blanket, her liquid voice soothing and convincing, while her father was just dry sticks on an autumnal blanket of grass. Her eyes were the blanket smothering the beginnings of a fire out, her father the careless oil poured onto it. 

She remembered the feel of her fingers through her hair, her touch cooling and soft. Her mother smelled like spring grass, fresh, cutting through the steam of her anger like a knife through butter. After Iska was born he was a thinner blanket, helpful, but not so much, a bystander. His sometimes fearful cries were just background noises, his chubby fingers grasping at the crib bars whenever his sister ran again. Inali never was around to experience it. He slept, his thumb in his mouth, his hand always half-covering his tiny ear. 

As she got older it calmed down, like the flame encased a fireplace, tamed but still dangerous. The only time it ever swirled into a raging wildfire was when…they came.

She had screamed, fought so hard, but ultimately decided to run. She didn't see anything, didn't hear anything but the roar that was in her ears. She had burned to brightly, and then all Hialeah remembered was darkness. 

She didn’t like to think about what happened in the tunnels. Hialeah was used to being treated as less than human, the stares pouring over her when she was with her father, the whispers she heard in town. But this…this was different. 

She was beyond human. She was a cow, a piece of meat, livestock to be used for their needs now and then. 

Thats when she first felt it flicker, the fire slowly burning out. Even that night in the cave, her first night of freedom, she had looked down at the bruises on her legs and arms, the irreparable harm she had faced, both inside and out, and wondered if she she should’ve just died. 

And then her mother was gone, and for a while, that fire was small, heated coals in a pile, with noone to stoke them. She felt so cold.

One day, she felt the spark. From the ashes rose the dust, born solemn and grey. With black beetle like eyes, it made its home inside of her brain, nesting until it was practically woven in with her neurons. It spoke, quick one worded sentences, and weaved its thoughts into her sentences. 

It hissed at her, clouding her mind and eyes, sealing tear ducts and coating her throat with dust. It blew around, never forming coherent thoughts, rather just observing what was happening around her, and when it was threatened, it scattered. 

Dust kept her guard up, dust was never noticed. Dust, even if it made her feel like a hollow version of herself, dust never left her cold. 

Willa carried the flame now, but there was nobody to put it out.

Morning after morning, Hialeah woke up to the sound of them downstairs, playfully arguing over breakfast, debating topics that she was never taught. During the day she and Willa argued over chores, who's turn was who's, the combined elements often causing an explosion. Sometimes, especially when they heard news about other logging companies, she could see the heat radiating off in waves. It made the room stuffy, hard to breathe in, the smoke sometimes getting everywhere in the house and refusing to leave. 

The dust blew, but the coals, scattered about in her mind, were still lit. Angry whispers in her head, sometimes spilling out when she was alone, over broken cups and plates, muddy tracks on the floor, the leaves and dirt that kept blowing into her room from Willa's 'bed'. But they were never sparks, because although she had felt the warmth of a fire before, Hialeah still remembered the burning cold from when it was blown out. 

So, like the edge of the windowsill, or the edge of a shelf, dust blew. Her life was a windstorm and she was just part of it. 

Move, shift to accommodate it. She wouldn't be warm, she wouldn't be cold, she was just...nothing. 

And then he arrived. A farmhand, all the way out from Tennessee, with only a couple boxes with him and a prayer. Her father had talked about it before, with Iska gone, needing some extra manual labor done, not even looking in his daughters direction. Hialeah had been dragging behind her a wagon full of apples she had picked when she had overheard, pausing and looking down at her muddy skirt, all dirty from a morning of hard work. He was getting old, he said, and he wanted to focus more on the mountains, to truly leave his mark on the world. 

When the automobile, rare in the mountains, rumbled down the road towards their house, was when it all began to change. The car had had a driver, but she could barely see him from her vantage point. She knew that her father didn't like automobiles, but for some reason the farmhand had refused to make the long trek up to their house. She understood...she wished she could rise in an automobile every day. She digressed...

Hialeah had stood in the tall grass, just near the front porch, watching her father help unload the boxes. 

The man was different, but in a way that Hialeah couldn’t put her hands on. Although he was just a small peep at the end of the hill, his back turned to her, but already she could tell something was…off. Was it her eyesight, or did his shoulders not seem as broad as her fathers or brothers? His hair looked soft too…it gleamed in the sunlight, with broad curls swept underneath a hat. 

Willa hung from a tree branch, equally interested, her long hair gently swinging in the wind. She was in a good mood today, her cheeks a bright pink as she asked, “What’s that?” 

“Thats an automobile. It's like a machine horse.”, she said, trying to explain it in basic terms. 

Willa hummed underneath her breath, but continued to swing, uninterested. A cool breeze swept through the trees. It was the beginning of summer, warm days punctuated by the smell of wildflowers through the window, and green fireflies at night, but rain still often poured onto the valley. 

The night before Hialeah had snuck out to her mothers grave, and as an anniversary treat, popped open a bottle of wine she had been hiding. It was sweet on her tongue, she had sprawled out on her grave, playing mindlessly with the flowers they had left earlier. She snuffed out the lit candles her father had left near the grave, so nobody would see her, and looked up at the stars, trying to remember all their names. She later realized that the wine was meant for today, and suddenly she had to hide the ‘random bottle on the shelf’. 

Her body stiffened as she watched them walk up the hill. Four boxes, thats all he had in total. Her father told them that he would stay for ‘a while’, not bothering to define what a while meant. Hialeah guessed for the summer season, until the tips of fall touched the land. Or maybe a bit longer- work was hard to come by in the mountains. 

She watched with pointed interest as they came huffing up the path, resting her body against the pillar on the porch, her arms crossed. He noticed her first, his hazel eyes catching a glimpse of her. Hialeah wasn’t going to lie, he looked pretty nice. 

His skin was as brown as tawny wood, with a slight undertone of a golden brown, he had a thin, yet muscular build with taunt muscles on his bicep. His face looked young, thinner than she expected, and he walked toward her with not the swaggering arrogance men his age had, but almost timidly. 

She watched as he set down the parcel with a grunt, before standing up, his posture strangely slouched, his chest bent in. He walked in with his hands at his sides, his walk stiff like his shoes were uncomfortable, sticking out a hand for greeting, “My name,”, he said, his voice a bit high, “Is Dante.” Hialeah could tell he was lying. The way his eyes looked to the side, how his voice almost stiffened, who was this man ?

"Pleasure.", she said, taking his hand. Dante's hand was soft, the flesh a light brown with freckles spattered across it. The nails were perfectly manicured, little ovals that were so smooth she could almost see her reflection through it. He'd probably never done a day of manual labor in his life. 

A silent titter spread throughout her body as she smiled at him, bidding him goodbye, his attention already turned to her sister. Willa had shifted to her disguise colors, she looked more like Nathanials daughter than anything. The light bounced off her golden hair as Nathanial introduced him to her, as Willa looked up at her father. Hialeah took a glance at her, and went inside.

The sun felt too bright. 

In the beginning, Hialeah would just watch him, her hawk-like eyes trailing over the mans strange form, as she hung out laundry to dry, or went to go feed the chickens. He always stood with his chest bent in, wearing shirts that were clearly too big for him. He worked alone, thinking nobody noticed him, but Hialeah always did. Maybe it was a survival instinct she had picked up from her time in the caves.

She had seen how those things shifted, warped their bodies, so who said he wasn't one of them?

In fact, he was the strangest thing she had ever seen. Hialeah thought he looked like a mixture between a man and a woman, like those fairies she had seen in the paper. He moved with a strange ease, slipping through things like honey, as quiet as a mouse. He had a delicacy to him that reminded her of her mother, or her aunts, the way he ate to the way he walked. When she offered to do his laundry, he always flat out refused, saying that he prefers to do it himself. 

Polite but...confusing? 

She chocked it up to loneliness. Her brother was away in California working, her father and sister spending time working to conserve the forest. Hialeah had never really interacted with boys her age, excepting one who she had talked to at one of the conventions her father had once dragged her to. He didn't have much to say, and mostly stuck around a girl with black hair that night, like he didn't know what to do with himself. Hialeah probably just wanted companionship. It was in her blood, a woman always seeks a man, and perhaps this was just it. 

If this was love, then it was quite confusing. 

It was the simple truth, Hialeah was going mad because of isolation, and sought companionship with a possible sodomite because of it.

But that still didn't answer the constant dreams she was having of the man, dreams that would make her wake up in a sweat, one hand over her mouth as if to trap something inside. They were strange, almost like nightmares. 

Hialeah would watch as the layers of his flesh peeled back, revealing a woman with soft skin and pink lips. He would always scream and cry, his disconnected mouths making two noises, like he was trying to hide the woman from her. It always happened in the bath, she would walk in just as his layers started to peel back. 

I am going mad, the tormented soul writes in her diary, Is this some sort of cruel prank? This surely will pass.

She would go to her mothers grave, praying for the demon inside of her to leave, to let her go. 

However, if the man was there, the feeling was there, the dreams were there, and there was no escaping the man. 

She was cursed, simple as that.

It was the spring of 1908, her brother had returned home with his bride, some girl he met on the west coast. He’d been sending home letters for a while now, already in love at the age of nineteen, and just two months ago he’d declared his engagement. Hialeah thought they were going too fast, that maybe the girl was just doing it for the sake of just doing it, but she soon realized that that was how she thought. Maybe they were in love after all. 

Still, it  had hurt when she watched as her little brother lifted the veil of his bride, the priest announcing I now pronounce you man and wife. He was still a kid, and already his life was beginning to fold for him. Even his wife, her sister in law, she was barely the legal age and yet she had found the one.

What did that mean for her?

It was a kick in the gut for her, mixed in with feelings of happiness for a new sister, melancholy that her brother was growing up so fast...at least her sister in law was nice. She never bothered to learn her name, at the wedding she had been surrounded by other people, her brother latched onto her arm constantly. But now she sat in front of her, blinking curiously like Hialeah was some strange animal she got to avail herself on. It was her first night in their house, the house her husband would inherit from her father in law. Hialeah had bustled in the kitchen all morning to get the dinner ready, and currently she set the table, as this doll sat and looked around. 

She had an oriental face, two eyes like almonds, and so much powder on her face she looked like a ghost, the healthy pink in her cheeks barely visible. Her name was Ya…Yajian. “Thank you.”, ”she said, her voice soft, as Hialeah set a glass down, her eyes looking away. 

Shes scared of me, isn't she. 

"Hialeah, could you be a dear and get a bottle of cider from the cellar? I think we’re missing ours…i cant find it…", her father called, just as she opened her mouth to speak. Thank god. She felt the weight of her eyes shift, as she left the room. 

She nodded, opening the door and walking downstairs. The heat bit at her arms and knees, dust bunnies congregating in corners. It was sweltering down here. Her father and sister rarely came down in this area during the summer, it had been built years prior and was now so full of cracks that heat escaped in instead of being trapped out. Sweat made her shirt stick to her armpits, her dress feeling heavy, like wool on top of wool.

Her heart seemed to stop as she saw the man, sorting inventory. His bare back was turned to her, and she knew she should feel something in this moment. This was blasphemous, something only girls whispered about in taboo conversations, thought about late at night. 

But when he turned around, she truly felt the jolt. Barely having anytime to process the sudden feeling, it-it was like fire but wriggling, like a snake, her mind finally comprehended what it was seeing. Breasts. So simple yet it opened up an entire cave of questions. 

It made sense- the shirt thing, it was so stuffy down here that Hialeah would’ve taken off a layer too- but breasts! On a man, nonetheless! Was she-he even a man? 

She stared at him, and he started at her, his (?) face dropping. 

"Why aren't you at the dinner?", she asked, her voice trying to stay steady. Just pretend everything's normal. She’s good at that. 

"Its your families celebration, and I am just a worker-", she stutters, her face flushed and red, "-so it would be improper of me to try and join." Her eyes are wide, looking around like shes looking for an escape. But Hialeahs standing right in front of it, desperately trying to not let her eyes slide down. 

"Are you hungry? I can bring you up a plate.", she tries to sound soft, the quiet caretaker of the house, not some raging freak she really was. Does that even matter at this point? Would this person be the bigger freak here? 

"No need. I will dine later. Which bottle do you want?"

Her eyes land onto Hialeah's face, her knees feeling weak, she’s never felt weak in front of the man- but for some reason, she cannot explain-

She shoves that down answering, "Whichever one seems the best aged, please."

The woman shifts around a little bit, pulling out a bottle she had preserved months before, in the beginning. 

"Here. I think it'll taste the best."

Hialeah nods, "Thank you.", as she reaches out to grab it. 

Their fingers brush, and she feels a jolt of electricity, and shes sure the woman felt it too.

They stand there for a moment, looking into each others eyes, and the woman opens her mouth to speak before-

"Have you found one yet?", her fathers voice booms throughout the cellar, Hialeah slightly flinching. 

She turns dashing out of there, face a bright pink.

What was that? That moment in time- 

The rest of the dinner is spent congratulating the newly weds, but the memory is the only thing thats in her mind. Her thoughts swirling as she drinks glass after glass, her eyes glued to her plate. 

Once they had children was when the inheritance would be finalized, but for now, they were staying in a little house in caves code. Iska was moving out soon, his boxes already semi-packed, his room half-stripped of its furniture. 

Then...it'll just be Willa, Hialeah, and...

"Maybe we could use your room for Dante.", her father said to Iska, taking a swig of cider.

"Do whatever you want with my room, I don't mind.", he responds, one hand on his wife's, the other using a fork to scarf food down. He gagged and started choking, Yajian, smacked him so hard he spat an entire glob of food onto his plate. She laughed, loudly. 

They’re a good match. 

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

Her brother looks at her, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "Do you want my room? Its bigger than yours..."

Hialeah laughs, "I'm good. I agree, lets use the room for...Dante." The name sounded wrong on her lips now- who was this woman? 

Her eyes flit over to the cider bottle, which was almost done.

"Say, why don't I get us more cider?", she says, and before anyone can say anything, she dashes down to the cellar.

She had missed her chance. The woman was gone. 

Chapter Text

He…She…was gone. Hialeah stood, alone, in the empty room, nothing but the hot air against her cold skin. 

Through the dust that had settled on the floor, she saw their footprints, leading into the darkness. He…probably she…she probably left to go somewhere else. Away from her. Was she scared of her? It was strange, seeing a woman cosplay as a man, but she wouldn’t tell. Willa was the snitch, not her. 

Besides, she didn't tell, that wasn't fun. She liked to dig. Hialeah was like a police dog, she rooted and sniffed to find the root cause of something, to judge it based off of her own opinion before crying wolf. The person didn't seem dangerous, she could likely just be doing this to find work. She could relate, really, Hialeah had tried to find work, two or three years ago, but the mountains were...conservative in who they chose for labor. She might've even done the same thing, if money was that tight.

But there was just something off about him/her. Hialeah knew it deep in her gut, from years of analyzing people for survival. There was a myriad of reasons behind this, like how a clock ticks perfectly but inside there's thousands of little gears. 

She wanted to pull the woman apart and see how she ticked, what made her do this, what caused all of this. Hialeah wanted to be a screwdriver and force her way in. 

But that probably wouldn’t happen.

She’d definetely leave after the season was over, and they’d never see each other again. Her fault, of course, if Hialeah even let out a single word of what happened she could be arrested- or worse.

That made the dust in her stomach suddenly blow up, like there was a gun pointed straight at her. But in this situation, was she the one pointing the gun?

Hialeah stood at the spot where she had first seen her, the light from upstairs making her shadow stretch out long across the wine racks. Sweat against her neck turned cold, the roiling feeling in her gut turning…silent. Cold. Was this regret? Did she regret not asking questions? It all happened so fast- she had barely any time to contemplate what was truly going on.

The wine cellar was deserted, the faint light from the gas lamps beginning to flicker, casting an eerie glow on the neatly stacked bottles of cider.

The woman’s faint handwriting on the bottles glimmered in the thin rays of light, she Hialeah took a step towards them, careful not to step on her footsteps. She felt like a wolf, slowly tracking down a deer for consumption, so different than how she felt days before. Hialeah should be the one who was cautious, a man she didn't know in close proximity to her? She had had her experiences with that, she knew to stay away. But…suddenly she held this power in her hands.

Just one pull of a string and the entire woman’s life could fall apart. But in turn, the woman could twist the narrative on her own. She’d spent so long pretending to be someone she wasn’t, and in an instant Hialeah could’ve been the one exposed.

Her head hurt.

She pushed those thoughts down, and grabs the nearest bottle of cider, and went back up the stairs. Hialeah heard the softest step as she closed the door, feeling those piercing hazel eyes burning into her soul, like paper to a match. She stiffened, turning back, but like a haint in the night, she was gone. 

She stumbled out of the cellar, bottle in hands, the laughter and chatter at the dinner table reaching her ears. Yes. Everything was normal...right. She took a deep breath, smoothing out her face into the same blank expression. Her legs felt like sandbags, as she dragged herself back to her seat, the conversation growing quiet as everyone turned to look at her. She placed the cider in the center of the table with a clunk, not looking at anyone. 

"You were gone for a bit. Did something happen?", her father asked. Hialeah's nerves flared for a moment, his voice like a knife cutting through the air, startling her. They didn't speak as much anymore- was this the first thing he said to her all day? Probably. 

"Oh nothing, just looking for a good bottle of wine. Best of the best- you know.", she said, letting out a forced laugh. Willa at least had the decency to smile. She took the cider slowly away from Hialeah was a child not to be trusted with it, pouring herself a glass. 

Her father cleared his throat, "Well, Ya...Ya Ji-yan we're happy to have you in the family. I know you'll take great care of this house once I'm one."

For a split second Hialeah saw Willa's eyes turn to her, but she just sighed and drank her cider. 

She knew that the issue was- Iska was going to inherit the house but Hialeah needed to get out of it first. Everyone expected her to marry first. Nathanial said she was 'a flower blossoming'- meaning that she was often left to her own devices during the conventions they dragged her to. Nobody ever interested her. Every man in the mountains was the same, Cherokee, white, any other color under the sun. They wanted someone to cook, clean, an extension of their mother without the incest. Up north they were pretty progressive, but Nathanial would rather have a heart attack then let her go up to treeless places like that.

"You'd sooner die of lung cancer with all that smoke then marry. I don't want to have to purchase a white veil for your funeral."

Marriage and babies it was then. 

Throughout the dinner, Hialeah observed her brother and her new sister and law.

She wanted to see how they worked, how marriage worked. She had never really seen it happen before, Hialeah wanted to see how couples worked, how they interacted. A glimpse into her own, inevitable future. Just to tell herself that it wouldnt be that bad, that there were upsides that she might be overlooking. 

It was really just something to numb herself with, like when she was younger and her mother would tell her to look the other way when her wounds were cleaned.

Well, it had worked out well for many couples. Look at her sister inlaw- Ya Jian had been living in a basement apartment with her family before Iska met her, and had been working in a textile factory. Now she was about to inherit the house, and the money sent back to her family had helped them greatly. Her brother was an amazing husband, she could already tell. She watched as her brother interacted with his new wife, feeling the tips of his shoes brush against her knees as he kicks back and forth underneath the table.

In his heart, he is still his ten year old self, with too much energy and not enough outlets. He seems smitten, and Hialeah cant blame him. He constantly pushed back locks of Ya Jians hair, as she animatedly talked about California, her lips smoothly retelling how they met, like her lips were just made to do that. "I saw him at the intersection, he was selling peaches- or apples, i don’t remember, so i went up to him and said ‘Hello, would you like to buy some buns…" Iska nods and smiles to her every word, like its some sort of rich classical symphony, leaning closer and closer to her until he was practically in her lap.

His fingers were intertwined with hers, and she watched as Ya Jian hastily wipe some frosting off his face, a glob of it already fallen onto her dress.

Nathanials stare is the opposite. Hialeah nearly winced when she saw it, she could recognize the face from a mile away. Worry, the kind when someones doing it for what they think is the right reason. When all their thoughts fit perfectly on their face, forming a stupid puzzle that even an infant could solve. 

The statement is simple.

This woman could marry and find a husband at her young age, yet you cannot?

It dimmed the little sparkle in her, but she continued chatting with her sister in law, smiling politely and answering whatever question she had.

"What's life in the mountains like?"

"How far is the nearest town?"

"What did you think of the wedding, Hialeah?"

She knew what her father felt, for one. The wedding, for Nathanial, was nothing but another way to subtly tell his oldest that she needs to leave his house

Which Hialeah wanted nothing to do with. Men, in her eyes, could never live up to her standards. Children...

Hialeah couldn't even calm down her upset younger brothers, much less a baby.

Nathanial, in a sick way, thought marrying Hialeah off would be good for her.

Away from the stress that is forest conservation, or whatever bullshit he would say.

She didn't care though, she had been through a lot worse than whatever they were doing up in those mountains. The sawing of the trees, the 'killing of the forest', had long happened inside of her, secretly deep down was worth it for her. Just for one thing. Her father had told her that they were now using dynamite to fell smaller trees, and she drunkenly wondered if they had gotten to the tunnels yet. She wondered if anyone remaining had survived the blast. 

Deep down, she hoped not. 

That night, as Hialeah was getting ready for bed, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Still half undressed- her chest covered by her towel, Hialeah turned to face the intruder. 

"I know you're there."

A body blended out of the tile, a cheeky grin on her sisters face. She had stopped blending, green skin garish against the white tile, her black hair in a long braid this time, "Did I get you?", she tittered. 

"Didn't I tell you to stop doing that?", Hialeah said coldly, pushing her towel up higher. She didn't need to reveal anymore of herself. 

Her sisters face fell, "Sorry, Father just said that its time for lights out. He's turning off the gas lamps."

She tensed up for a moment, then tried to relax.

Right, of course. 

"Oh. Ok, well, thank you for telling me. You can get out now.", she said, drying her face.

Willa sighed, and turned to leave, not before saying, "Its like we never talk anymore. Lets have a one on one sometime."

Who are you, my mother?

"Sure.", she said, "Now get out! I'm about to bathe!"

She playfully shoved her sister, who, giggling, ran out and slammed the door.

Hialeah sighed.

She couldn't sleep. Visions of the strange he-she plauged her mind, her vision always falling onto her soft face.

Everytime she closed her eyes it was like she was there again, the woman's chest in her field of vision, her chest tightening up and her breath becoming erratic. Hialeah felt cursed, this never happened, this couldn't have happened. Men didn't magically grow breasts. Women never dressed as men. It was just because of her overactive imagination, her brain recognized Dante as a threat, and in her own twisted way, turned it into something she could 'trust.'

She needed to tell herself that she wasn't going mad. This- was a man.

She needed to face it, she just imagined the entire thing, he was probably just working with his shirt off and she imagined them. 

It was her fault. She was the one going mad. Hialeah just had an...overactive imagination. 

Chapter Text

Her legs burned. 

Hialeah ran through the forest, tree's and bushes popping out of nowhere, her hair tangling in the outstretched branches. It was dark- she could barely see anything, much less hear anything, except for static roaring in her ears. Her arms and legs flew across the ground, her breaths coming out short and ragged, her skirt torn and her knee's exposed to the cold air. Her peripheral vision showed nothing but trees, obstacles blocking her path.

She felt herself stumbling in pain, muscles cramping and wanting to give up- but she couldn't.

There were bumps and scratches all over her body, nicks and cuts that she knew would never truly heal, so she couldn't give up now. Hialeah's body was on fire, running from an unseen predator, but she knew it was there. IT could smell her, IT could see her, she just needed to run. 

Twisting vines reached up to grab her, to cage her, but Hialeah stumbled away from it as quick as she could. She wasn't going to be trapped, she was free. 

She broke through the barrier, she didn't see it, but she knew it was there. The tree's melted back into color as she breathed heavily on the ground, but IT had left its mark. Her arms, chest, her thighs and hips were slowly rotting away, revealing bone and muscle.

It stunk, like wet dirt and dry, hot air. 

Like the tunnels. 

The scent in the air was what snapped her out of it. It overpowered everything else- which was really saying something because that morning it smelled like a tannery. 

It stuck out like a sore thumb, overpowering the other scents until it was almost smothering. She could smell it even while she was dreaming, it grasped her neck, burning her nose and throat like she was drinking acid. It was to be expected, really, July in the mountains, as her mother said, was like being in the devils armpit, the stenches that the mountain belched out was truly ungodly.

Was it the harm that was being committed on its land making it worse?

With each tree that fell, was the mountain slowly deteriorating, sinking into the ground until it was nothing but a flat expanse, pockets of areas the bleeding wounds of its inhabitants?

Could the mountain tell that what happened in it's beautiful forests was far from beautiful? Was it finally retaliating, or was it just shifitng to match the new mood. 

Subconciously she rolled over, the blanket covering her mouth and nose to protect her inner cavities from the awful stench. The fleece tickled her nose, the dust mites that had gotten into it over the weeks traveling to her nose. But all it did was block off her airflow until she was back to breathing the stuffy air, the scent overpowering than ever.

Hialeah, even when she was in the deep molasses of sleep, felt like she was being smothered by a great mass of air. Someone- something was forcing itself onto her, covering her mouth and body, stretching itself out until she couldn't breathe. She gasped for air when she woke up, looking back she noticed a soggy imprint from where she had lain, her face felt flushed and her body stiff. 

It was one of the hottest days of the year, the sun beat down on the mountains, frying the air to a crisp, it was barely eight and sweat was already pouring down her neck, she could feel it even through the thin dream like substance she was in. It was like being in hell, the pastor's words carefully weaving itself together into this strange picture that had somehow become her reality. 

What sin did Hialeah commit to cause this?

Outside the leaves drooped, the grass smelled of burned bread, and the goats were all lying in their pens, crumpled into little groups. Her plants, two small marigolds on her windowsill, had wilted beyond recognization, and the water that had been in her glass had turned into little droplets on the side. Even the small Bible her father had bought her had been affected, during the night on the windowsill the pages had wilted, and when she tried to do her morning prayers she could barely turn the brittle pages. 

She groaned, as one ripped, crumpling it up and throwing it into the garbage. Was this considered blasphemy? Maybe.

She already knew it was just going to be a bad day anyway. 

Her nightdress felt like she had jumped into a river, it stuck to her skin uncomfortably, and since she had forgotten to close the curtains, she was immediately flashbanged. Blinking away the light, she peered outside into the tree that Willa had stubbornly decided to stay in for the night, its branches hung loose towards the ground, Willa nowhere to be seen.  Not a great start- her flushed head ached as she pulled out her clothing, a simple green dress. It was her mothers, handed down to her when she was twelve or so- she hadn't worn it in ages. On the rare occasion her mother went to church with them she always wore the dress, but after Inali was born her body was so different Hialeah had inherited it. 

She never wore it, especially after her mother died, wanting to preserve the memory, the slight smell, even the wrinkles her mother had left after she stopped wearing it. But it was too hot to do laundry, and no other dress was to be found, so reluctantly, she pulled it on.

It had been years since she had buttoned it up, zipped up the sides, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to do it now. Eight years. Eight years since she last wore it, the memory of her mother's hands helping her tie the back, her fingers cool against her skin, playing in her mind.

If she knew what had happened, would she still touch her? Hialeah had dressed in front of her mother multiple times throughout her life, her mother always looking away, but if they could somehow do it again, would it really be out of respect?

She closed the curtains, and shut the door, away from prying eyes. Hialeah didn't know how Willa could stand to sleep out there. She wiped her brow, it was useless anyway, pools of sweat were dripping down her face. She dropped her nightdress to the floor, shivering in the cold air, the sweat on her skin turning into goosebumps.

Hialeah could’ve worn something lighter, the few girls her age she had talked to all mentioned slips, but she could never wear that. It felt too revealing, even in her nightdress, which reached to her knees, she felt exposed. The fabric of the green dress uncomfortably clung tightly to her armpits and waist, her hair was frizzy and almost uncomable, and then there was that…that smell from downstairs. 

Good God, it was like something had died down there. Hialeah began breathing through her mouth, but she could taste it on her tounge. It coated her throat like a sticky paint, if she inhaled too much she felt lightheaded, almost dizzy. Did an animal die down there, a mouse or squirrel drag itself inside because of the heat? Was Willa keeping an 'animal friend' down there for it to cool down? Or was it something from the forest, desperate enough to crawl into a human lair, and it had only begun to make its presence known?

The animal one was probably more accurate, but God did the thought to make her gut clench. With Willa out of her tree, and the strange quietness of the house, it would be logical that the family was bandaging or nursing some animal back to health somewhere, and just didn't want to wake her. 

Last night had been so loud, however, her father used to say that people could hear their family coming from a country mile, and that was definentely true. Even in the quiet morning hours the house was never truly silent, the night before it felt like she could barely sleep with the racket coming from each of the rooms. Her father snored like a bear, muttering in his sleep, his bed creaking whenever he tossed and turned. Iska's room had had a lot of creaking too, noises that Hialeah did not want to investigate, and then there was her sister, the tree rustling each time she moved, leaves and debris blowing into her room. 

The barn wasn't that far, on a normal day she could hear everyone bustling around everywhere, and Willa's voice could carry far.

She'd probably hear her arguing with their father over the best treatment plan...which ruled out option choice one. 

But number two also didn't make sense. 

Nathanial had made them all practically vegetarians since Willa had arrived, and even on the rare occasion he did decide to shoot and dress some game, it would never be in the house. Besides, meat was strictly dinner food, and why would he even be out and about on such a day like this? It made her head hurt, and the combinded smell and heat made it worse. 

And then there was the third option- but that could never happen right? No just- no don't think about it

She needed food, water, something to ward it off. Hialeah opened the door, leaving her curtains closed, making her way down the silent hallway to the stairs. It smelled particularly strong here- like iodine mixed with iron. She could've sworn she saw stains on the carpet, but that was just her imagination...just her imagination...

It's probably piss stains, knowing this place

She snickered nervously to herself. Humor was no gun, but it helped keep her sane

Her eyes watering as she made her way down the stairs, Hialeah continued to hear no noise as she called out, "Father?". The gas lamps were not lit, the house seemed deserted of all noise and sound. Even the sun had leaked down through the windows, casting long, dark shadows across the hallway. She turned the corner into the living room, her fathers smoking chair empty, and Willa's small leaf-cocoon reading nook. 

But she could hear noise from the kitchen. Was someone cooking breakfast? Usually that was Hialeahs job, but since she must've slept in someone else would've have to do it...she hoped noone would get too mad. She decided that the smell was probably the aftermath of someones failed breakfast, and like always, she'd have to pick up the pieces of that. 

When she entered the room, however, there was nothing on the stove, nothing on the table. The smell was the strongest here, she nearly fainted with how high the iron stench felt, and her stomach dropped when she saw the smears of green and red on the floor.

Not again, not again...

Memories from that night played like a bad horror novel in her mind, the roar in her ears only getting louder as she noticed the man in her fathers seat.

Just where her father always sipped his coffee in the morning, she spotted a straw hat that her father didn't own, black hair cascading down the back of the chair, a pair of silver gardening scissors by his feet. She couldn't see if his skin was green or grey, but there was a gut feeling, the dust rising up and screaming at her to run. 

He didn't notice her, not yet, she could still run. Hialeah didn't want to fight again, but the way her heart pounded in her chest told her to avenge. 

And then the world stopped. She could see his face, obviously, he had a scar on his left cheek, he stood up, his hand reaching out. She noticed the little nicks on it, small moon like scars dotting his flesh like stars, but his breath was hot and wet, his straggly hair hung around his face like a cloak, her hair standing on one end as he opened his mouth to speak-. 

She screamed, obviously. All that trapped air made it to her throat, where a piercing cry was born, already ready to fight for its life. She took a step back, and before she knew it, her hands were scrambling for a kitchen knife, a thick one, barely used unless for cutting meat, chose itself for battle. He yelped, quickly jumping back as she swung it out in front of her, Hialeah panting for air. 

Brown skin, chestnut eyes. A human- but she knew those things had their tricks. 

"FATHER!"

What if he was one of them? Flashbacks of the night played in her head like scenes from a bad horror novel, but this time she was prepared, she was ready- the knife was in her hand and she was prepared to strike. It was him- he was the smell, she didn't know if it was cologne, or- blood...but it reeked of him. 

"I can explain-"

Before she could do anything her father ran into the room, twisted the knife out of her hands, his face equally red and his eyes buldging out of their sockets. 

Where were you?!,  she wanted to scream, but she kept quiet, as he pushed her onto the floor. The breath was knocked out of her, and only then did she notice the small wound in the young mans arm, a full circle of blood, like the rising sun. A plant, tall and climbing, its stem bigger than her arm curled around her wrist, green fluid leaking out of it. She tried to speak, but the smell from the trimmed ends made her vomit, heaving everything up until there was nothing inside of her anymore.

"What's going on?!", he shouted, the young man backing up as she was shoved to the floor, the power swishing out of her hands faster than she had grabbed onto it.

Chapter Text

Hialeah spat pink water in the sink, her father pressing a rag to the young mans injuries. She had stumbled off the floor awhile ago, her father's shaky breathing the only thing in her ear as she pulled herself off the ground. He had had his arm protectively covering the young man, taking a step back when she had lurched forward, her head spinning. Willa had run in shortly after that, her eyes as fearful yet questioning as she saw the scene laid out before her. Iska and Ya Jian were still out in the fields, gathering plants for her before it got too hot. 

The young man was apparently a researcher, which Nathanial had hurriedly explained to her as he dabbed at his wounds, all the way from Qualla Boundery, to talk about the plant growth in the mountains. "I don't understand why you would do something like this- you know we have people over often Hialeah..."

She couldn't help but bristle, he was treating her as if she was a small child, but Hialeah knew she had overreacted. It was just a visitor, what seemed like an esteemed one at most, and now she had ruined her entire family's reputation right in front of him. 

The smell was overpowering, Hialeah hiccuped and weakly lurched over to the sink, where she had vomited again. She could practically hear everyone recoiling in revulsion, as Willa began to mop up the sick that was spattered across the floor. That was supposed to be hialeah's job, but here was her sister, instead of doing the 'important research' that she and her father dedicated so much of their time to, she was cleaning up another one of Hialeahs messes.

"Come on son- lets finish cleaning this up so you don't get anything else on you. My son has a shirt or two you can borrow..."

She could feel his glower burning into her back, the silent question nearly being spat at her as he walked over, grabbing another one. Hialeah's heart hurt, as she heard him wince, the memory of the knife nearly tearing into his skin haunting her. 

What was that? 

She could've done worse, instead of his arm, she couldn't gone for his heart, his throat, his stomach.

Her limbs felt as heavy as sandbags as she thought about it, her head hanging over the sink and her black hair tangling with the silverware that sat at the bottom. The knife, far away from her, nobody would trust her with it now, was pushed away to the side. Spatters of brown blood were now on it, the weight of the memory- flesh on flesh- still written on it. Bits of her own upchuck were stuck to it as well, the static in her mind increasing as she saw it out of the corner of her eye. 

The entire room felt worse- all because of her. From where she had landed, there was now a small dent in the floor, the knife handle was broken and bent, and dear God...the smell...

It now reeked of her purge, and the taste of it hung deep in her mouth, a curling dragons breath. She couldn't speak, if she spoke then everyone turned away from her, and even the act of speaking made her feel ill. She knew it wasn't just because her breath smelled bad. God, there was guilt written all over her face, but Willa and her father were never one for reading. 

She had a feeling after this incident the young man wouldn't be either. 

The look on the young mans face made her head spin, she wanted to explain herself but she couldn't- Hialeah knew what primal fear had caused her to do an act like this, but the others wouldn't get it. 

They wouldn't understand

Willa sat at the table, nursing her plant, the smell stronger than ever as she whispered things to it in a language that was incomprehensible to her. Her mouth and throat still tasted of sour milk, and her lips and tongue burned to such an extent that they almost felt numb. 

Hialeah was stupid. So, so stupid.

When she was young her father had taken out to the forest, for a small walk, when they had first laid eyes upon a doe. She was beautiful, still young, with a spotted coat and deep brown eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered in the sunlight, her legs were bent and bristled when her father came too close. Hialeah had stayed behind, just near a bush, watching her father inch closer and closer to her, interested by a mark on her side. Just as he reached out to touch, right as he was about to yell out his answer, she bolted. 

Hialeah had watched, breathless, as she quickly disappeared into the bowels of the forest. She never saw her again.

"Probably had some bad experience with a hunter.", he had explained on their walk back, Hialeah still at the age where she hung onto his arm. 

"I've heard down in Gaitlenburg some of the worse ones are starting to befriend the deer- if you can believe it, then shooting and killing 'em as soon as they get close. It's messed up, if you ask me, that little one must've had survived one of those attacks. I could see this little scar in her fur, in fact I'm still surprised she decided to stick around for that long. Probably thought she could trust me- but then changed her mind."

Hialeah held his hand, looking up at him as they walked, "She was pretty."

"Just like you, my girl. You shared the same eyes."

Hialeah giggled, skipping ahead to the house, running straight into the screen door as she did so. 

She left, quickly slipping out just as her father went to get a bandage, walking quickly at first, but then running.

The screen door slammed behind her, parts of her hair ripping out as it got caught. The shadow of the house made her entire world go dark, until she had closed her eyes and went in a direction she didn't know. Anything was better than being in there. The memory of the gun burned fresh in her mind, the scars on her body too many to count

Her eyes were wet, glassy, no tears slid down but some threatened to. Her lashes were gleaming in the sunlight, the hot air binding to her skin, making her feel claustrophobic and agoraphobic at the same time, as she looked around at the grassy expanse. There were no trees for protection, no bushes to curl up and hide behind, the grass reached her knees and that was it. 

She needed to face her actions, but how could she do that when she couldn't even face the root? It was like a weed, it was one more thing snagged in the garden of her life, but the weed was the same. It came from the same root, like so many others. All of them swayed in the little wind, taunting her, the biggest ones tugging at her arms and legs, telling her to join them, join them. To live in their soil prison, to feed off of tears and toil, to be nourished by an easily swayed earth. 

Even the forest called out to her, whispering at her to join the doe, to never be seen again by the ones that hurt her, and the ones that she hurt in return.

At night dreams, the doe's eyes mesmerized her, but the emptiness behind it always left her at the edge of the woods.

The dirt was hard, it burned her palms as she looked up at the sun, and was nearly blinded by it. The sun burned in the sky, roiling flesh that was constantly bursting with pus, the hot pain of it secreted onto the land below. The flowers were wilting, and from far away she could see little balls of dust being blown up, dirt, crushed bones of tiny dead animals, the crumpled up remains of the dried up flowers. 

Move with the wind, sway with it.

Sweat mixed with tears, as Hialeah stumbled a couple more steps and collapsed, the grass crunching underneath her knees. It smelled like ash in the air, hot, singing ash. 

Her palms were burning, sweat smeared across her face and clothes, her mouth ached, she needed to throw up again. 

It was never about the knife.

Be clean. 

That's what she swore to herself, ever since she was released, ever since she understood to the full extent what happened in those tunnels. Her body wasn't hers, her mind wasn't hers, and her soul had been cleaved from what it once was. She was like a used rag, forgotten, but so tore to pieces that it wasn't truly a rag anymore. 

It wasn't anything at all. 

She was so hot, and she wanted to break free, tear out her confines and be truly free- but then everyone would know. 

Her thighs, hips, chest, shoulders, were contaminated.

She could see it on her skin, it twisted her to no end, leaving her...wrong. 

Hialeah hoped the sun would finish her off, burning her to a crisp until nobody could tell which part belonged to her, and which part belonged to it.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

As soon as those words left her mouth, it was like time stopped. Hialeah stared defiantly at the woman's turned back, her heart beating quickly in her chest. Her fingers clenched around the wet fabric she was holding, her breathing coming in short, controlled stances. There it was. The word's that she had been dying to say for so long, the scalpel was in her hand and the body was laid out in front of her. 

It was so quiet that she could practically hear the beat of the woman's heart, as she stilled, her back still turned but her eyes straining to look at Hialeah. She took another breath, building up what little courage she had left. She didn't plan this out...this plan was doomed from the start. 

"Don't-Don't leave. I'm not going to let you leave until I get answers." Her voice came out scratchy, all the confidence from earlier blown out the window. She slowly took another breath, this time to calm to nerves, her eyes still locked on the woman. 

She sat completely still, her ankle still poised to get up if the woman decided to run, ready to pounce and tear into her. 

The clouds, which had slowly began making their way across the sky, stalled, the gentle wind and rain that had been blowing left the air, and the grass stilled its dance. Her voice, which had broken through the clearing, died in her throat as the woman looked at her. Goosebumps prickled up on her cold skin as the mist settled on the two of them, her breath coming out in shallow pants. Forcing that sentence out was like all the air blew out of her body, leaving her hollow.

She wondered if it was the right decision to make, what if she had been wrong the entire time and now she was half naked in front of some man?

But those fears quickly vanished as she turned around, and Hialeah got the first look at her face, her true face. She didn't know if it was the lighting when they first met, or if the shadows had alinged themselves differently on her face, but she could tell that that was a woman. Peering closer she could see a soft jawline, a nose that curved like a river down her face, and peach-colored lips, her eyes curved downwards but still sharp as a wolfs. Her face was a slight greenish tint in the light, her fists balled as she said,

"Pardon?"

There was slight resentment, anger, and just a touch of fear in her words. She strangely liked it, in some sick way, how much she wanted the woman to hate her. To fear her, to be scared but not be able to do anything. 

Hialeah could hear the faintest tremble in her voice, and she watched as her hair unraveled, long, dark locks spilling out onto her back. She was trembling, a slight shake in her body that she noticed, and for some reason, watched to feel. She wanted to know the true extent of power she had over the woman in this moment, the strings that held her up too tightly even her bones began to crack, and tremble. For the first time in a while, Hialeah could feel herself smiling.

She had finally caught her. 

She had fallen into her web. 

She looked into her eyes. 

They were hazel, but looked like a myriad of greens and browns whenever she blinked, like the reflection of foliage in a pond. Her pupils were fully dilated, like a wolf circling around a fresh kill- wary for other predators that could fight it off for the prize. 

In their case, the prize was her secrets. Hialeah wanted to be like the mountain lion, tearing her open, looking at her flesh and organs and moving it past until she got to her prize. Pumas and wolves in the wild hated each other. They were enemies of territory, of prey, of everything in the natural world that they sought to survive. But she had a feeling that they would work well together, the fire from before, when the sun burned high to kill, being ignited. 

Saliva dripped in her mouth, as she spat out, literally and figuratively, "You heard what I said. I know your secret, but I won't tell."

In some strange, sickening way, she felt like her father at his worst, using power to his advantage to force things out of people. His voice was like a little crochet hooking, poking and tugging away at a person until they completely unraveled in his arms. Hialeah wanted to pull her apart with her bare hands, but she kept her voice level and cool. 

"Stay there. I will get changed and then we will speak."

She stiffened, like a dog. But she stayed. 

Gill. 

Chapter Text

Gill.

The name still reeled in her mind, as she talked, it rolled over her tongue and nestled in her brain like a rabbit making its nest. Hialeah listened intently, probably more than what was considered normal, as she continued to talk. 

Gill was the daughter of two poor farmers up in Tennessee, she had ten other siblings and was originally sent out to find work in the textile factories up north. She decided to stay in the south, the reason wasn't given to Hialeah, but she was perfectly fine with that. Their hands overlapped, the bleats of the goats seeming far away in the distance as she listened intently to what Gill had to say. 

"I...saw an ad in the newspaper while I was staying in a town near here. It was from your father- asking for a strong male farmhand to help with the work. I thought that the pay was good...and I needed to support my family so-"

"So you faked it.", Hialeah breathed out, the pieces finally clicking in her mind. Gill nodded, turning away from Hialeah and looking down at her palms. 

"I-I won't tell!", she stammered, her hand suddenly reaching out and grabbing hers. Gill looked up in surprise, and Hialeah quickly flushed a bright pink. 

"I won't tell. I promise.", she said sincerely, breathing out a deep sigh, "Thank you- thank you for telling me. It helped clear some things up."

Gill nodded, "I won't tell anyone about your, uh, mishap in the fields.", she muttered, but the silent question still hung in the air. Hialeah looked away, remembering that she would have to face her father soon. Her chest felt tight, the dress (Now covered with small bits of spiderwebs, dirt, and hay) clung tightly to her skin, an inescapable prison. 

She wondered what they were doing right now, if they were even looking for her. Hialeah felt even more uncomfortable at the thought that they might be. She had so many chores she had planned to do today, but her fit ruined everything. What was going through her mind?

That incident was nothing, she got so overworked over nothing. 

Looking back at Gill, however, strangely her heart settled. Gill's soft hazel eyes glanced at hers, and Hialeah realized in that moment, that Gill was one of the first people from outside the farm and even Cades Cove and Gaitlenburg that she had befriended. Gill didn't know about anything about her and her past, her family, and even the graves that lay south of her family farm.

Gill, in a way, was Hialeahs way to practice being normal again.

She smiled at Gill, and Gill smiled back, both for reasons the other didn't understand, as Hialeah murmered, "I need to get back. I have laundry to do."

Gill leaned back, clearing her throat, "Of course. Would you like me to take you?"

She nodded, too fast and too eager.

Chapter Text

The walk back was slow. 

It was midday now, the sun still covered by grayish-blue clouds, the tree's swaying in a gentle breeze. A light fog had descended on the farm, coating everything in a dewy moisture that got onto Hialeah's already ruined dress, her lips and face wet. However, the air still carried the warm bite it had had earlier, so there was no chill in her bones. Just a certain sleepiness that comes when too many emotions override ones brain. Her limbs were sandbags, and her eyes were draped blinds, she stumbled on multiple rocks through their trek back up the hill.

On the contrary, Gill seemed perfectly fine. Hialeah didn't know where or what she had been doing that morning, but whatever it was, it didn't seem to be labor or energy consuming. She waited for her whenever Hialeah would inevitably stumble, walking farther when she managaed to almost catch up. Gill's shirt was damp, it stuck to her brown skin and whenever her back was turned, she couldn't resist a peek, hoping to glance at the strange wire-contraption again. She had nice back muscles too, something Hialeah had noticed.

When she was young, she had originally wanted to be an artist. Unfortunately, her hands could not recreate what her mind came up with, and the obsession didn't last long with her temper. Hialeah still had a couple of anatomical references her mother had been kind enough to gather for her, magazine pictures and newspaper photographs from clippings. Her favorite was the one of a strong woman, taken from an advertisement for a freak show, her biceps bulging out and her mouth stretched into a wide grin. 

Hialeah absentmindedly wondered if Gill happened to be from one of those, although in this situation, Hialeah was more of a freak than she was. 

However, she digressed. 

Looking back at this woman's impressive strength, Hialeah felt the urge to pick up a pencil again, and she let out a low whistle through her teeth. No wonder she passed as the opposite sex. If Gill was the opposite sex, she definitely would have tried to start up a courtship with her. Hialeah never liked boys that much, but all it took for her to be wooed was strong arms and a good heart.

Gill would've the right man for her. 

The river that flowed through their property was nothing but a mere whisper in the distance as the house came into view, the squashed-in windows darkened, the muddy path showing signs of multiple footprints. Someone had lit a lantern, the wax that had dripped from the candle inside was spattered on the dirt, although it was quickly covered by Hialeah. 

This was a tender moment in time for her, she had found out who the mystery woman was, and strangely, Gill didn't mind her company. 

She didn't want something like this to end it. 

Gill opened the door for her and beckoned her inside, the wet noises of her dress sticking to her skin the only thing that filled the otherwise silent building. Spots of mud slid off at the entrance, and her bare feet left tracks of dirt, hay, and bits of blood. Already her chest felt tight, the memory of the morning weighing on her heart like it was trying to stop it from beating. 

Everything hurt. 

Hialeah excused herself, explaining that she needed to go change, sweeping up her dress and quickly toddling up the stairs into her bedroom. The shades were now drawn, the window closed to keep water from leaking in. The mess from the morning still stayed, the Bible now damp rather than brittle.

Strangely, although the smell had been practically wiped from other areas of the house, it still hung in her bedroom. Her room was such a mess, dust gathered on the heavy curtains, the drawers had multiple scratches and scrapes on it, the room smelled of sweat and acid, her bed was messy and unmade. 

There were muddy footprints, the same boot trackings she had seen earlier, at the front of her doorway now, she only noticed it when the dress smeared it against her wall as she turned around, her bleeding soles leaving stains on the floor as her fists balled up and her eyes burned. 

Peeling off her clothing, she stood, shivering in the chill that had overtaken the room. Her skin used to be so healthy and radiant, reminiscent of the wood on an oak tree, or the nourishing soil, but in this lighting it looked gray as ash. The dust inside of her was slowly leaking out onto her body, dripping down her until she was as quiet and still as a statue. 

But was that so bad? Statues sat still, they stayed the same, when they broke, they were easily put back together. Hialeah was a mirror, breaking, shattering, never to be the same again. Even the reflection certain items had were different in her gaze, even if she didn't want to they always broke themselves, joining her in her shattered misery. 

She sat across from her mothers ruined dress, every meticulously cared for strand of it now just a ruined copy of itself. The seam at the bottom was half-torn, the buttons were now a dull brown instead of a bronze, the fabric color looked washed out and cheap in the lighting. There were patches of dirt that she hadn't gotten out, bits of hay and animal dung, a wet spot where a kid had nipped her, and near the armpit was a small tear from when she had collapsed.

In numb shock, Hialeah looked at it.

Her mothers prized possession, and the minute she had gotten her hands on it, she had ruined it.

Anything she touched, she ruined. Anything she touched, IT got onto it. 

She just ruined everything, didn't she?

Dirty

Hialeah bitterly wept in her hands, as more clouds covered the sun, a gentle rain beginning to descend on the mountain. 

Chapter Text

The clan was struggling, and it was after the last harsh winter that Gillian had set out for the money.

It was the spring, Gillian was supposed to be getting drunk on sweet gem berries, trying to find a partner of her own, to bloom and grow from a bud to a rose. The spring always brought about new change, which was why it was her favorite season, new love led to new babies, more food led to more abundance, spring was easily the happiest season for the clan. 

But this year a switch had been flipped.

The summer before had been so bountiful and plentiful that nearly everyone forgot to store for the winter months, long hot summer days seeming endless, shoots and leaves popped up like weeds, and fruits and flowers hung heavy on the vine. Gillian herself spent that summer dancing and singing for hours until her throat and feet hurt, but the soft moss covering green hollow provided a cushion. She danced by herself, not with the other clan members her age like her sister had, staying in her own pocket and 'accidentally' smacking someone if they got too close. 

They thought it would never end. 

As the months passed, and the chill got closer, the repercussions of their actions only grew and grew. First it was the food, shoots began disappearing, berries and lichen shriveled up until they had to begin trading with local farmers for their extra crops, faeran men shifting to become human men, always coming back telling stories of slaughterhouses, the smell of murdered trees, angry dogs growling at them from the window.

A killing stick was always in the human men's hand until they began carrying killing-sticks. 

Then there was the blistering cold.

A sudden freeze had descended onto the forest, and for the first time in ages, snow fell like fragile diamonds from the sky. It would have  been beautiful, but it turned the clans fingers and toes black, and Gillian wished she had had the pelt of a bear to warm her.

Willa and Adeline had really not thought out Green Hollow's practicality during extreme cold like this, so while Willa sat in her human-house thinking everything was fine and dandy, drafts blew in constantly, the earth was hard and not suitable for sleeping, and many of the elders froze during those cold nights.

Finally there was the sickness. It came quickly, soon many of the faeran were coughing, spitting up pleghm, their noises stuffed and their foreheads hot. Nothing Willa and Gillian tried could calm the raging infection, and even Gillian herself soon came down with it, it left her half blind for weeks. The medicine that the humans seemed to use couldn't be traded, instead the few shifters they had left were directed to something called a apothecary, where they had to exchange human money for those precious pills that could save their lives.

But the faeran were supposed to depend on the forest, and the cold had left everything dead, so they had nothing to sell. 

The proposal of the plan was brought up during a clan meeting, one where Willa wasn't there. The remaining elders huddled around with the others, shivering, their breath frozen in the air. Gillian had sat with Sacram and Marcas, her own twin sister Nellaig asleep next to her. 

The mood was somber, their faces downcast as they faced what they had brought upon themselves. Wallowing in her own misery, Gillian half listened to what the elders said. Someone, a shifter, needed to go work for the humans. Even though in the past they could just send a jaetter out to steal, to pocket some coins of their own, even that would not be enough. 

Someone needed to go work for the humans, and Gillian sure as hell didn't want it to be her.

Humans were monsters.

Everyone, from the former padaran to Willa agreed on that. But they suddenly were at the mercy of a changing, human world. The medicine Willa spoke of rising in costs to the point where they needed those strange circle coins to exchange for it, instead of basic trading, and even some of their best shifters couldn't handle the culture shock of leaving the forest.

Many were still sick, and with the sudden lack of forest goods, in spring nontheless, they needed help more than ever. 

Willa would've been disappointed with the lack of clan morale, but the overwhelming consensus was to survive, and to do that they needed a convincing enough human. Just...nobody needed to tell Willa. She was barely around anyway, so she wouldn't find out. 

Gillian- Gillian didn't want to be picked.

If Willa ever found out about the whole scam they were running then their friendship would be ruined, besides, she could not interact with people who were not Faeran like her. If anyone saw her green skin and green hair, she'd be done for. One pop of a killing stick, and Gillian would be no more. 

But when Sacram and Marcus refused to shift, and when Tanic adamantly stated he'd rather die than let any of his remaining children go out into a human world, all eyes turned to her. 

There is no 'I', only we.

Before she knew it, she was pulling on stolen clothes, taking a stolen name, and stepping her first foot from the forest into the eyes of her clans number one enemy. 

Originally, the clothing had been a skirt and a blouse, but Gillian quickly swapped it out her first night in the nearby human town.

Women weren't as well treated as she thought, an experience in a bar nearly leading her to brawl with a man, and with a sour taste in her mouth she left the skirt in a dumpster.

Her new clothing was also stolen, her former days as a jaetter coming in clutch when she swiped a pair of trousers and a hat from some luggage left at the towns train station. A new name even came with the hat, Dante's Menswear, written in bright blue cursive on the little tag.

As 'Dante' she found the job in the paper, even though eng-lish words were still relatively new to her, she saw that the pay rate was high, and it was quite close to Green Hollow. The man was quick to accept her over some coffee and a handshake, even though Gillian barely spoke out of nerves. 

Secretly, she spent her first coin on a hot bun someone was selling on the street. As she bit into it, the wind whipped her hair as they drove down to her employer's house, but she nearly choked as she saw a familiar face as they pulled up. She quickly stuffed some bills into the drivers hand, getting out with the man who's hair shone like wheat in a field. She recognized him from somewhere...but she didn't know or couldn't remember where. She could barely see anything with how high the hill seemed, but if that who she thought it was, she was going to be sick.

Her hot bun suddenly tasted very...very cold. 

Chapter Text

She had spent the morning gathering her money and supplies for another trip back to the clan, her third one this time. Nathaniel was very lenient with days off, meaning that Gillian could go ‘supply her family’ with their needs before returning by sunset. She had just dropped off the medicine today, and the healer she gave it to snatched it away, bustling off to the sick and dying before Gillian could get a breath in. She hadn’t even seen Nelliag or her father. 

She was planning to spend midday cleaning her binders, her breasts did not need that much binding but Gillian didn't want to take the risks. Even though sometimes the wire dug into her skin, and even though it left red marks on her body at the end of the day, it did it's job. Gillian looked like a human man, and thats all that mattered. 

And then it happened. Gillian was still reeling from her talk, the fake story she made up, how Hialeah had so effortlessly dragged her into her web, almost making her reveal everything. 

To be frank, Gillian didn’t even know the humans had divided the mountains into names before she got into their world. She had always assumed the world was mountains, a rough terrain that stretched for miles, and that the humans came from some end of it. She only learned that the mountains were just a small part of a larger world when she was twelve, first hearing that fateful name.

Tennessee. 

Gillian had made up the story on the spot, of coming from a large family far away, with siblings, a mother, and a father to feed and care for. In a way, that was partially true, but she was just waiting for Hialeah to see the flaws in her story and confront her on it. Heck, Gillian didn't even know if Tennessee had mountains, or large families in need of monetary assistance.

Tennessee was the first thing she thought of, it popping into her mind from a memory long past during her days of a jaetter, a human woman who was still up talking to another human woman. Gillian had been at the very end of a take, sneaking out the side door when she heard the porch door creak open, and she had hidden right underneath them. Breathing very quietly, she clutched her take to her chest as two human women sunk onto the porch chair was an audible screech, the first one opening her mouth. 

“We’ll go to Tennessee”, she had whispered, the light of the lantern she was holding illuminating her face, “We can say it's a trip, then we’ll take our bags and leave to the north.” Her voice got quieter, as she looked over her shoulder, unbeknownst to the second listener hidden under the porch. 

That night Gillian had gotten a good take, a silver locket, three coins, and two small ribbons. She was twelve, but she had still had the small shoulders and bendable arms of childhood, and she chewed on the satin ribbon as she listened intently. 

“We can disappear. Me and you. Together.”

After that she only heard hushed whispers, and when the sound of pattering human footsteps left the porch, was when she left. She took one final look back at the cabin, the women's silhouettes still visible in the curtained windows, then looked back up into the night sky, the moon fully waxed. 

Humans didn't stay up during the night, so the memory still stuck around in her mind, until it eventually drifted and faded as her curiosity for them did. 

But something about Hialeah made her remember. Maybe it was her hair, her voice, how her words were always carefully chosen, those sad rheumy eyes that so reminded her of the forest’s neglected ponds. They were brown, deep, easy to get lost in and murky with what seemed to be thousands of secrets. Gillian was no swimmer, but the first time she gazed upon Hialeah's face- oh how she wanted to dive in. 

But her voice was really the star of the show. What sirens used to beckon sailors to their watery deaths must've gotten into this woman's vocal cords, because what God out there taints a girls voice box with the cries of a drowned woman from days long past?

Yes, it was her voice, through and through. The way she had called out to Gillian reminded her of that sad woman’s murmur, the desperate plea yet the firmness to it, the way it pulled her in like a moth to a flame. It dug that memory out of the graveyard of her mind like a wolf looking for its next meal, tearing it apart until she was left with only the bare bones of it, that midnight conversation a spirit haunting the insides of her mind, wailing like a banshee until she could no longer focus on the task at hand. 

But she would try. 

Gillian sat in the living room, a newspaper in her hand, as she absentmindedly flicked through the pages. It was still damp, the black ink making the eng-lish words half blurry whenever she smeared her thumb across it, the watery cup of tea she had made thirty minutes ago going cold.

Hialeah had quickly went upstairs after they had came back, and while Gillian was half-grateful for the silence, she couldn't help but wonder what she was doing. She was, in a way, mysterious, like a flower that hasn't bloomed yet, hidden inside of a bud, not ready to come out yet, or a doe drinking by the river- one wrong move and she could dart away. 

Gillian had tried her best to keep Hialeah with her as long as possible, she had never had any luck with connection, but she had tried her best. 

 Outside it was still raining, she didn't know where Nathanial and the others were, but their scent still hung in the air. She could see dirty boot marks from where someone probably rushed putting their shoes on, and the killing-stick was missing from its spot on the wall. 

She wondered if any of it had to do with Hialeah, her half-clothed form had scared her that morning, the hiss in her voice and look in her eyes pulling Gillian so, so close. She looked cryptic, black hair hanging around her face, wide, bloodshot eyes staring right at her. Her dress was stained and muddy, and she wondered what had happened to her. But the way she spoke to her was completely different. It reminded her of how Venus fly traps pulled in their prey, a promised sticky-sweetness that was so intoxicating that small bugs couldn’t help but fly in.

"I want to talk to you."

Gillian flipped another page. 

Chapter Text

It was evening by the time they returned. Gillian was in the kitchen eating an apple when she heard the door open, the sound of hushed voices and the sounds of aching bodies collapsing onto couches filling the air. She saw out of the corner of her eye the first person who walked into the kitchen, Iska, who imminently poured himself a glass of water and sunk into a chair. 

"Have you seen her?"

Gillian turned to get a better look at him, grimacing internally. His hair was wet, plastered against his face, his face pale and his clothes damp from the afternoon rain. There was flecks of dirt on his face, grime collecting underneath his fingernails, his shirt ripped and torn in several places. Both hands gripping the cup, he brought it up to his mouth to drink, gulping the liquid down while Gillian stared at him. 

Before she could speak, he opened his mouth again, his hand on his forehead as he looked down at the floor. In the living room she could hear the killing-stick being hung up, someone rustling in the cabinets for a bandage, the whine of an armchair, and the lighting of a cigar. The smoke floated into the kitchen, and Gillian coughed as the sickly scent entered her lungs. Iska seemed unbothered, as he continued to speak.

His voice was ragged and tired, his leg bounced nervously as he continued, "We've been out for hours. We don't know where she could've gone- fathers going to go into town soon to ask the sheriff for help.” 

Iska continued to drink, staring dejected at the ground as the words died in Gillian’s mouth. The funny thing was that she knew exactly where Hialeah was. She, just for some reason, didn't want to tell them. 

It was just nice having a quiet house. 

Her attention was diverted as another, unfamiliar, face walked in. He was taller, older than Iska, around Gillian and Hialeah's age. He walked with a slight limp, he had stringy black hair and a short neck, hunched over like his back hurt him. Noticing Gillian, he gave a half-wave, smiling weakly, “Don’t mind me. I’m going to leave soon, i just need to get my stuff.”

The look on his face gave Gillian the impression that he wasn’t planing to help with the search. He had a bandage on his arm, his shirt looking a bit to tight, smaller than what a man his age would wear. He shifted on his feet, looking around warily before his eyes glanced towards the kitchen opening, than at the door.

She looked over at the table, noticing a small brown bag, picking it up silently and handing it to him. 

“Thank you.”, the young man said, before offering his hand to her, “I’m Waysa. I haven’t seen you around before, whats your name?”

She felt her name slip through her lips, but stopped it at the last second, clearing her throat and speaking in a deeper tone, “I’m Dante. I work for Mr. Steadman. Pleasure” She shifted on her feet, as he looked at for a moment with a calculating gaze, before his face broke into a soft smile. She had passed. 

He reached out and patted his arm, Gillian almost flinching back, god, Waysa looked so much like the padaran, in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. Almost in a way that she could still smell his hot breath on her, the feel of his fist on her skin when her take wasn’t good enough, the blood filling her nose and mouth until all she could taste was iron. She glanced back at Waysa, who was leaning against the wall, patting Iska’s back, murmuring that ‘Hialeah would turn up’, and ‘She couldn't have gotten that far.’

They talked about her like she was a runaway dog, sorely missed but gone by her own accord. Just dashed out the back door, running away to a butterfly farm out in the middle of nowhere. Hoping that she’d turn up, they spoke of it lightly, but they both knew that she could also just be lying dead somewhere, killed by the forces of nature rather than fighting back. Iska was like an innocent child, refusing to believe that his beloved pet could be bleeding out dead, living in a state of perpetual denial. 

But deep down, Gillian could see that he knew the possibility, he rocked on his backside as Waysa left, his fingers trembling around his cup. 

As soon as Gillian heard the front door shut, was when the third, and final, person walked in. Her boss, Nathaniel Steadman, his face pink as a ripe peach, his hair mussed and his clothes dirtier than everyone elses. Ignoring Gillian, he turned his attention to his son.

“Your wife’s said she’s going to bed. Not feeling well, I’ll walk her home than go to the sheriff- Willa’s still out looking, she’ll come home when she wants to.”, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his half-bald head, “Christ.”

Iska stared into his cup, than put his face in his hands, “I just…”, he whispered. From her view, she could see his nose and ears slowly turn a soft red, “I just…I don’t know…”

Nathaniel sighed, seemingly miffed, “This was just an overreaction. You know how it is with her, she probably just had a nightmare that scared her out of her wits. Buck up, son. Your sister’s fragile. We all know that. But it’s our duty to protect her.” 

Gillian was surprised with how they viewed her. In her mind, Hialeah was the least fragile out of all of them, but then again, she hadn’t been around to view what had happened. Maybe she was fragile, but as she threw her apple core away, the sudden noise sent Iska into hysterics, and before she knew it, all three inhabitants had to leave.

Hialeah woke up after a couple of hours. She was sweaty again, her eyes puffy and swollen, her limbs and joints aching as she shakily stood up. Outside, the morning sun, less severe than the day before, shone over the valley. Condensation was gathering on the windows, and her door was still locked and undisturbed. She wondered if the others had gotten up yet, if they even noticed her disappearance or were still out searching. 

The nervous feeling seared through her gut again, Hialeah’s guilt felt overwhelming to the point where she just stared off into the distance for a couple of seconds before changing out of her underwear into a clean nightdress, pulling back her hair into a simple ponytail, wincing whenever her brush ripped through a knot.

She didn’t care about her appearance today, not even bothering to do her morning prayers before stepping out of her room into an empty house. Her cross sat, unworn, on the dresser as she thought of Gillian, the memories of the previous day coming back to her.

What would she think of her? For some reason, Hialeah didn't mind Gill seeing her in her nightgown, there was something so...close about her, like she was a sister from another mother, or a twin that she had never met. She brushed out her nightgown, stretching, as she decided that she would be just fine wearing something like this. 

The only person who would probably see her like this was Gill. That was ok. Perhaps her father or brother would notice, if they were even home, but she was sure if they weren’t she could finish doing laundry in the span of that time. 

Going downstairs, she walked through the darkened hallways to the kitchen, confirming her thought that they were in fact, not home yet. The kerosene lamps were not lit, her father had not made his morning tea, and Willa was nowhere to be seen. That was comforting, the silence that surrounded her. 

For once, she didn't have to cook breakfast, so she sunk down into a chair and drank some cold tea from a pitcher that was left on the table. The taste was bitter, it burned as she swallowed it, but for once, she felt at peace.

Hialeah’s mind was silent, and she traced circles on the tablecloth. 

Then there was the knock on the door. 

////////////////////////////

Don’t you see what you have done?

Look at your sister, look at me, look at your brother

Don’t you even care about us?

Can you just control yourself for once?!

She barely heard any of it.

She looked down at the floor, gripping her nightgown until he could see her knuckles were turning white. He was awful with emotions,with talking. He wanted to tell her that for the first time in a while, he was scared, he feared for her, but watching her just sit there with no acknowledgement made fire burned in his guts. 

Nathanial Steadmans face was as pinched and purple as a bruised peach, the worry and fear in his voice translating to the only emotion he could get across to his daughter.

Anger.

///////////////////////////////

Hialeah, for the first time in her life, wept like a child. Curled up in the kitchen chair, her throat felt tight and constricted with all the replies she wanted to say, but couldn’t. Her father stormed out, his face pinched and red, a very tired looking Willa following suit, although she did look behind her shoulder at Hialeah, giving her a sympathetic look.

She didn't need their pity, but in that moment Hialeah was so, so tired.

Her entire body hurt, she was cold- the chill of the river still ran through her bones, and she felt like that doe from all those years ago, hurt beyond recognition, a shell of her former self. Her stringy hair hung around her face, some bits already falling out, her vision blurry and her breathing constricted from the snot. 

She was nothing, broken down into small bits until she was her fourteen year old self again, falling apart in the bathtub after everything had happened.

Hialeah didn’t see her brother walking in, but she heard him. She tensed up- she didn't want to be seen like this. She was her brothers rock, not the other way around. Hialeah didn't need pity.

But as she felt his thin arms around her, his own stuttered breathing, the sudden wet spot appearing on her shoulder, she couldn’t take it anymore. Her ragged breathing turnd into loud, ugly sobs, a conglomeration of her bottled up feelings and all the things she could’ve said but never did. Her younger brother stayed for a couple more moments, as Hialeah lay in numb shock. 

There hadn’t been a moment like this since Inali died, since her mother died, since her grandfather passed away when she was seven and she held Inali for two hours straight as it poured down outside, his tears matching the weather with how fast and thick it all came. 

It was dry outside, but her face was still slick, silent pools gathering at her eyelashes, staring off into space like she was seeing her own ghost. 

Chapter Text

Gillian stood in the goats pen, as the animals moved all around her, pushing against the wooden fence with their wet noses to the outside. She periodically spread a bit of feed, but had spent most of her morning daydreaming away.

She had gotten a late start, exhausted from the activity the night before she had passed out in her small room. She only woke up to the sounds of bustling in the kitchen, a commotion that she didn't hear until she saw the very end of it, just as she was getting her morning coffee. They had finally found her, and Hialeah was wiping her face just as Gillian walked in. Iska gave her a slight look, but she seemed calmed as Gillian went about her usual routine, and soon after Hialeah herself had gotten up from her seat. 

She seemed to like that Gillian didn't ask what was wrong, what was the issue, and now she kept her company as she worked. Sometimes she even pulled out a small flask, probably swiped from the kitchen when she left, taking a swig out of it. It helped keep her calm, whatever the liquid was, Gillian tried some when it was offered to her and she disliked it immediately.

Hialeah sat on the outside of the goat pen, picking flowers and bits of grass, throwing them in the wind and seeing where they landed. She pulled strands of her hair out and threw that too, getting even more comfortable as the hours progressed. The sky was a bright blue, the air crisp from all the rain the day before, with light, fluffy clouds lazily moving across the sky. 

It was Sunday morning, everyone else had left for church once she was fine, but for some reason, she decided to stay behind with Gillian. 

Hialeah was wearing a simple brown dress, still wet from the wash, with white stockings and brown shoes, her black hair messily done by someone else into a braid. She chewed on her fingers, staring off into space as Gillian worked, checking periodically on Hialeah. She was doing better it seemed, her face was not as red, her eyes not as puffy, and Gillian even got he to eat some spoonfuls of oatmeal that morning, like she was a fragile baby bird in need of assistance. 

She knew Hialeah hated the treatment, her eyes glowered with some sort of shame as Iska ran his fingers through her hair and wiped her face. 

But now they were at peace. Gillian didn't try to speak or interact with her, just giving her some space. Nathanial had pulled her aside and asked if she could just take Hialeah with her to the fields for the morning, needing her to have a break from the house. There was an undertone that she just needed a break from the family, Gillian didn't ask why, but she did wonder. 

Father and daughter did not exchange goodbyes when he left. 

She needed to be put under close supervision, he had explained, to make sure she wouldn't run off again. It was clear that he didn't understand why she left, and neither than Gillian, but Hialeah was in too weak of a state to even consider escaping. In fact, it was like the liquid was a sedative, Gillian watched as her brown fingers trailed through green and yellow grass, her chestnut eyes drooping pools of muddy water.

There was no raincloud to overfill them, no foot to splash them, so she was in a tranquil state of dissociation, just peacefully existing for a moment. 

Gillian fed and cleaned up after the goats, giving the kids their bottles, milking the nanny goat and even stealing a taste of her creamy milk. She remembered she used to do this often, when she was a jaetter, sneaking into day folk's barns to steal a drink from their animals. It was a way for her to get nutrients, especially the days where there was little to nothing the foragers brought back.

It helped save her when she was a skinny little shoat, helping her hold on for multiple winters, even the year her mother died and she felt like she was going to crack.

Looking over at Hialeah, she fished a small tin cup out of her bag, dipping it into the pail. She looked over at her, and grunted, pushing the cup over the fence. 

Hialeah looked up, taking the cup with both hands and bringing it to her mouth. She drank, gulping it down before wiping her mouth and giving the cup back to Gillian. She put the cup away, standing up, the goats surrounding her as she opened the pen door. They deserved a walk- she'd herd them down to the valley for some sweet grass, then return them back.

As they moved down the sloped hill, she watched Hialeah follow them, always at the back of the procession like a long lost spirit trying to find her way home. She kept her fingers running through a billy goat's coarse fur, periodically touching the tips of his horns and running her fingers down his back, always keeping eye contact with her. Gillian noticed that the cross necklace that she usually wore was missing- perhaps she had forgotten to put it on?

Why was she even wondering about this?

Sometimes she stumbled, but always caught her footing. Hialeah took drink after drink, each one leaving her dizzy for a couple of moments before she steadied. 

Into the valley they went, Gillian letting the goats go a bit farther this time, picking flowers while she waited for them to feed. She found a large rock and sat on the flat surface, Hialeah leaned against it and shielded her eyes from the sky. For a moment, all the pair could hear was eachother breathing, looking away from eachother. Gillian stared at the goats, and Hialeah looked at the flowers. 

She picked one, a convolvulus, and brought it up to her nose for a sniff. She tucked it behind her ear, before picking another one. She reached up, and gently tapped Gillian's hand, giving her the flower before getting up, and slowly walking to a bigger spot of flowers in the valley. Gillian looked at the white flower, remembering something she had overhead about the flowers meaning, but the traces of the memory were long gone from her mind. 

Still, she tucked it behind her ear, mimicking Hialeah. 

The sun shone, and the goats ate, calling out to each other and staying close in the valley. The house was a mere speck from where Gillian could see, Nathanial completely trusting her with Hialeah. She went far off, now wading in pools of brightly colored daises, picking as many to what seemed her hearts content. 

Gillian looked at her, at how her black hair whipped in the wind gently, her neck long like a swans, her movements gentle yet precise. Her arms were overflowing with flowers, and her face looked so soft in the glowing sunlight. She walked back over, setting the pile down on a spot on Gillian's rock, handing her a couple flowers.

"These ones aren't bent. You can hang them in your room and dry them. It'll look nice."

Gillian didn't know why, but she flushed as she took them. Hialeah still had that dazed look on her face, like she didn't really know what she was doing, but she still pushed more convolvulus into her hands. She watched as Gillian weaved them into her hat, scooting over and letting Hialeah sit next to her. 

Maybe it was the warm sun, maybe it was the soft bleating of the goats, and the perfume of the flowers in the air. But before she knew it, Hialeah's soft hand was in hers, and they were both laying next to each other on the rock. She passed the cool metal flash over to Gillian, and not wanting to disappoint her, she closed her eyes and took a big sip.

Fire burned down her throat, but she still managed to smile and look at her. She smiled back, as she played with the flowers, weaving them into little daisy-crowns. One of them was placed on Gillians head, falling off instantly. 

Her touch was soft against her head, as Hialeah tried, and failed, to fix it. She continued looking up at her, for some strange reason she liked it when her fingers tangled through her hair, and her eyes felt droopy so if she kept doing it, Gillian might just fall asleep. 

She really wouldn't mind sleeping in Hialeahs arms.

It was probably the flowers, but whenever Gillian looked over at Hialeah, she felt lightheaded. The scent drifted through her nose and mouth, overpowering until her eyes were blurry and watering, but she still watched Hialeah sink back down to her level. 

She must've felt lightheaded too, because before she knew it, Hialeahs head had lolled over so close to hers that their noses were brushing. She looked into her eyes, pools of unanswered secrets, conversations, feelings. Her lips were soft, her cheeks were slightly gaunt, but there were slight smile lines at the corners of her eyes from what seemed like better days. 

We're rushing into this. We don't know what we're doing. I don't even know you.

This is wrong.

But it felt so, so right, like two twins holding hands, two flowers growing out of the same stem, a puzzle locking into place when-

Oh god, she couldn't even say it.

Gillian felt as dazed as Hialeah when she finally gave in, and kissed her. She didn't taste anything, just the wind on her lips, but it was worth it.

The fire that had burned down her throat reaching her face, the sins she committed dancing in her brain as she suddenly pulled back, looking at her. 

The bleat of a billy-goat could be heard as she pulled away, the soft warmth getting to her as she fell into a dreamless sleep, Hialeahs arm wrapped around her as the herd surrounded them. 

Chapter Text

Gillian awoke to Hialeahs arm wrapped around her breast, her mussed hair spilling out from her head like inky waves trailing down a sinking ship. The sun still shown bright in the sky, beginning to kiss the surrounding forest in bursts of pink, yellow, and blue. Rustling of the tree's reached her ears as her eyes stopped being so fuzzy, the smell of wildflowers in the air still evident as she blinked herself awake. Gillian's breath was soft, her hands tangled in Hialeahs hair. She couldn't have been asleep for more than twenty minutes, and looking around, she sighed as she noticed the goats hadn't run off.

They all surrounded the rock, most of them asleep as they were, some of the awake ones just sitting and waiting for Gillians familiar call to rise, to move back to the barn. Some of them were even confused why she hadn't done it yet, a small kid, still a baby, cocked his head and bleated a bit loudly. 

Feeling Hialeah stir slightly, Gillian looked at the kid, and whispered, "Ela da duhnen. Tierno hairver daduhnen."

Shush. We'll leave soon- be patient.

There was a slight breeze as she glanced back down, she lay her head back down onto the rock, one of her fingers was on Hialeahs chest, and she could feel the steady beat of her heart. Her dress today was cut lower than the usual ones, she usually wore high-collar outfits that concealed her chest, her arms, going all the way down to her ankles like a sheet upon the body of a dead person. This morning her dress's sleeves only came to her elbows, her ankles were exposed and she was wearing a pair of simple brown shoes, her heart only slightly exposed- not enough to be considered a scandal. 

Even on days she wore dresses like these, her cross or a necklace always obscured the view of her collarbones, the steady pump of her heart always shielded from the world. Gillian didn't understand it, in the lair, before the padaran's downfall, and after, women always wore dresses looser than day-folk women did, regardless if she wore her heart on her sleeve.

Gillian, even now, wore her sleeves short, no matter rain or shine. 

Hialeah didn't. 

Was that the reason why Gillian found her so enticing? 

This morning, she could feel the beat, like the playing of a piano, dance across her side. She shifted her position, her sleepy eyes focusing on her almost-angelic like eyelashes, dark and fluttering as she slept, her resting mouth not pulled into a scowl, her cheeks still slightly-pink from the flask. 

Her fingers ran through Hialeah's hair gingerly, it sunk into her touch like quicksand, softening against her. It smelled sickly-sweet from the flower, squished behind her ear, the scent clouding her mind until her head ached. It still hurt, even as she pulled away, still gazing at her face. Gillian couldn't bear it anymore, she turned her attention to the goats, who were now surrounding them, sitting in the grass as if waiting for her to lead them back home. 

The black billy goat was closest to them, sharp horns glinting in the sunlight. Nathanial had gotten him a while back- he was old and mean, and was prone to butting strangers. Willa had still insisted on not blunting his horns, stating that it would be inhumane to the animal. He was prone to running off during these little walks, Gillian having to dash after him, and pin him down, tying a rope around his neck and leading him back to the group. Iska called him Satan incarnate under his breath whenever it was his turn to care for the goats, and even Nathanial didn't like going near him. 

But now he sat, as tame as a common dog, his head resting against the rock. He was closer to them than any of the other animals, his fellow kin keeping a distance away from him, but he still bleated like he was a kid as he glanced up at Gillian. 

She sighed in response. It was time to leave- better to leave early when he was still in (What seemed to be) a very rare good mood, she didn't feel like chasing him down again, in front of Hialeah nonetheless. She stood up, brushing the dust and dirt off of her pants, touching the top of the billy-goat's head. He stood up eagerly, and the rest of the herd slowly began to stand up, like they were scared of not following his lead. 

She pushed her stick forward, and they all obediently began walking back up the hill, as she bent down, whispering in Hialeah's ear. 

"It's time to go."

She stirred, taking Gillian's hand, her lips pursed as she groaned, getting up and popping her back.

Her lips...

The memory came rushing back to Gillian, she glanced back at Hialeah, but she seemed to have no recollection of the incident, beginning to walk ahead of her. Her walk was less wobbly, more controlled, her dress had been settled, and now she could see the cut of her dress had covered her heart again. Her heart ached, for a reason she didn't understand, the feelings of affection being pushed back down as she walked after Hialeah. 

She was at the very end of the line, the distance between her and Hialeah palpable, once again, it was like she barely even knew her. Her black hair blew in the slight wind, the flower tumbling out of her hair, and she stepped on it as she continued following the lead of the Billy goat. The goats bleated at eachother, white coats following in succession with the black coat in front. 

Gillian stumbled as she finally caught up to her, Hialeah barely glancing at her as they continued their ascent, their breathing coming out ragged as the hill progressively got steeper. 

"What were we even doing down there?", her voice cut through the air like a hot knife on ice, she instantly glanced at her confused expression, and felt her heart sink. 

"We were herding the goats. There's sweeter grass down there so I led them there, you followed me and we-"

"Oh.", she said, dismissing Gillian as she continued walking, soon gaining considerable pace over her as the barn grew in the distance.

Gillian continued walking, a strange feeling of dejectedness forming in her gut, they were so close to just becoming...friends and yet her feeble attempt at becoming bosom friends had been forgotten. The, thing, she couldn't even say it, was probably the closest they were ever going to get to closeness. 

They reached the barn in no time, the goats being herded in, her mind already off the topic and onto something else. In front of the barn entrance, there stood a woman of short, boxy figure, the years of maidenhood still evident in her cheeks, long golden hair tied up into a bun. 

Gillian breathed out in relief.

Adelaide.

Chapter Text

Gillian hadn't seen Adelaide in what seemed like months now, seasons passing by without even a mention of her name. She knew that her mother had gotten stricter over the years, after losing her husband and almost her daughter to that mudslide, but even though Adelaide worked long shifts wherever she could get them, she was never this busy.

Cades Cove, a town that was just a ways away from their home, was where she lived, and slowly work was becoming scarcer there. With ten other siblings to feed, Adelaide would often complain on the rare occasion she made it to Green Hollow, but never said a bad word about her family. 

They were friends, she was Willa's twin sister, and one of the few woodwitch's the clan had, and a talented one at that. Her song of growing was like no other, being able to build multiple layers with just a belt, bushes shaped like anything she wanted being grown, wood twisted and curved to her will. She loved nature to its fullest extent, always wading through ponds, climbing trees, picking flowers whenever she was out in the woods. 

The last time Gillian had seen her was last spring, when she had come to Green Hollow to patch up some areas of the foliage, the song of growing echoing throughout the walls of the den. She was always like Willa's shadow, one was never there without the other, even while they were in the day-folk world. They were both twins, closer than close, like how Gillian interacted with Naillig, they were two souls on the same coin. 

Then she suddenly stopped showing up, and Willa wouldn't tell anyone why. Evidently, Hialeah as well didn't know, because when she saw Adelaide, she shrieked and took off toward her. Gillian watched as she was tackled into a hug, a small worm wriggling in her gut as Hialeah, ever so silent only a couple of minutes ago, started speaking so fast and hard that her English words jumbled up in Gillian's mind. 

Adelaide smiled, and nodded her head to everything Hialeah was saying, before she buried her head in her shirt, arms wrapped around her waist. It was only then, with her hairs running in her hair, did the almost-stranger look up at Gillian. 

God, she looked different. 

Her hair, which used to be a bright golden, had faded to a dirty yellow, her skin paper-thin looking, bluish veins crossing her forehead like thread on a cross stitch. She was wearing a gray dress that had a high collar, and long sleeves despite the warm morning, sweat beaded on her lip yet she did nothing to wipe it away. The area around her eyes sagged, making her eyeballs look bulged out at all times, Adelaide's normally rosy pink cheek's a grey, brown color. It was like all the forest that had inhabited her had been sucked out, replacing it with a strange...blending human. 

She looked more day-folk than ever before, she was good at blending but never this good. Even out in the dayfolk world before she had eyes as clear as the sky, pale green markings on her cheeks and hands, a general aura of the sweet air of the woods about her. 

But her eyes were a pale grey now, the stink of the city beyond hung on her clothing, ash and smoke that polluted the air of the bigger cities clouding up her scent. Whatever had happened to her, it covered her up good, and now even she barely recognized her. 

Gillian quickly adapted the persona of Dante, clearing her throat and walking up to her. Adelaide's shifty eyes met hers, and for a moment, she faltered. It was like she was seeing right through her, through her persona, her mask broken and her naked face staring up at Adelaide's disapproving one. Still, she gave a weak smile, and avoided looking to her piercing gaze again.

"H-hello.", Adelaide's arms tightened around Hialeahs body, which fit into the crook of her arm like a puzzle piece. Her fingernails dug into the fabric of her sleeves, gripping onto her like a child hiding behind their mother in the presence of a stranger. 

They were as close as sisters could be. 

Gillian swallowed down bitter bile when she noticed, the worm in her stomach beginning to claw its way up her throat. The weight of her gaze hung in the air like bad perfume, as she struggled to find words to mask herself with.

She was barely clothed in front of her right now, and desperately needed to cloth herself before she was paraded around like a false king realizing his mistakes. But all of her dresses, shirts, socks and pants were missing. And the one who had stolen them was standing in front of her right now, almost taunting her with the way she waited, waited for the words to tumble out of Gillians mouth like a bad parade.

"Hi." 

Her voice was smooth, silky, a rich cream colored gown compared to the state of her appearance. She smiled, revealing wolf like teeth set in bright bleeding gums, stained from cigarettes and other human things Gillian didn't understand. It was a warning and greeting at the same time, a trap open with a delicate piece cheese set on the very end, waiting for a mouse to snap down upon. 

Hialeah finally pulled away from her sister, grinning for the first time in what seemed ages, finally turning to Gillian. 

"G- Dante, this is my sister Adelaide. Adelaide, this is Dante, help my father hired."

"This is Dante? He looks...awfully familiar." 

Gillian stiffened, as Hialeah shot her a quick look, swooping in and stating, "He's from Tennessee, Addy, and we met that one gentlemen a couple summers ago who was also from there. Perhaps you're mistaking him for that violin player?"

Adelaide stepped forward, her finger grazing her face. She flinched at her touch, her fingertips were unusually cold for such a warm summer morning, and they felt like ice was being pressed against her skin, cold water running down into her shirt and neck. Her lips were pursed, her eyes squeezed in concentration as she stared and stared at Gillian. 

"No, I know who he is."

The word he was spat with so much contempt that instantly the blood in her veins turned icy cold, her heart dropping faster than a mallet could ever fall on her head. The goats bleated even louder as they all herded themselves into the barn, now pushing their noses out of their pen as they cried for water, food, for attention from Gillian. There was a sudden stink of animal feces and hay in the air, as the Billy goat bleated the loudest, his horns giving him an advantage as he pushed others out of the way.

"Excuse me?"

He

She said those words like they had personally hurt her, and as Gillian finally met her gaze, she saw hate, fear, disdain...but jealousy? It was a snake that was entwined in her pupils, staring at her, her clothing, her fearful face, and it hissed, rattling its tail in defense. 

But underneath all of that simply looked like pity. 

Her eyes softened, she looked older, tired, as Adelaide softly said, "You're not fooling anyone, you know that?"

Chapter Text

"Excuse me?"

Gillian's heart felt like it was stopped. Her skin felt ice cold as she stared at Adelaide, who leaned back on the fence, her fingers mindlessly tangled in the goats hair, lightly touching the base of his horns. He pushed his head forward in response, her touch felt light and soft on his skin, and after years of being handled hard the moment of comfort felt like a thousand suns kissed him all at once. The goats were all silent now, having retreated back to the pen when they realized that they were not going to be fed, but he male goat just sat on his legs and stared up at Adelaide.

She sighed again, like Gillian was some sort of child, not even bothering to look Hialeah in the eyes, "I said you're not fooling anyone. Look at yourself Gill, I can see it in your eyes. I know it's you, you're not carrying yourself in the way that other-". She stopped mid sentence and faltered, looking straight at her, "I mean- does anyone know? What are you even doing, Gill?

Her heart nearly stopped. Hialeah was right in front of them, if Adelaide truly saw through her cover of Gill, then she was done for. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hialeahs face turn towards her, a questioning look painting her face, her brows furrowed- the skin pinched up between them. 

"Its...its hard to explain.", she stuttered out, Hialeah looking nervously between the two of them. Her fingers were bunched up in her dress, clenching and unclenching, without a cross to fondle nervously, before snapping out: 

"Why are you even here? You were gone for several months, Adelaide, if there's anyone that should be asking questions, it should be me."

The familiar hiss in her voice was back, the questioning tone that felt like a paring knife on pasty apple flesh, coring it to get to its seeds. Her hands switched to running it through her long black hair, although she was still relatively close to Adelaide, she slowly stepped over to Gillian's side. It was a subtle move of support, something she greatly appreciated. 

"Hialeah...come on, don't be like that.", Adelaide crossed her arms, her attention completely on Hialeah now. Although the two women were three years apart, Adelaide looked the same age as her, and Gillian suddenly felt awfully young compared to them. Both of them seemed to have so much history with each other, well of course they did, they were psuedo-siblings in a way, but in a way that felt deeper than whatever Gillian had with Hialeah.

They had only known each other for a couple of weeks by now, so they were still friends of course, but Gillian couldn't help but crave the close relationship Hialeah seemed to have with Adelaide. She would always be an outsider of course, this was family matters it seemed, but as she watched Hialeah touch her arm in such a caring manner, she felt something inside of her ache a little. 

"I was worried. Willa refused to tell me anything.", she said, a tightness to her voice and mannerisms that Gillian hadn't seen before. She knew she was often stressed out, she had seen her little actions throughout the weeks, and even implicit details about her character; bitten fingernails, thin hair, eyes so hollow that if you gazed in long enough something would stare back. The culmination of all of that even happened this morning, but this was a quieter, more intimate sadness.

When Gillian's mother got oak wilt she had seen it in her father, the fear of losing someone so great that you begin tearing yourself down in hopes of building the other one up. Her mother had eventually died, her body burned with the other ones, but that fear was still present in her own father, until he eventually contracted it himself and nearly passed away a couple months earlier. 

But they were sisters, a strange type of course, but sisters nontheless. It was like how Gillian felt with Naillig, they were halve of the same sun, the quarters of the same moon. 

"I'm here now, and that's all that matters.", Adelaide aburptly said, pushing back Hialeahs further questions about where she had gone. She turned back toward Gillian, her hawk eyes blazing over her form again, "And back to you. Gill-"

"I do not know who you are.", her voice was rough as she glowered at Adelaide, her grip tightening on her pants fabric. Thankfully Hialeah had wandered off again, now sitting a bit farther from them, far enough that if Adelaide said anything incriminating Gillian could just pretend not to hear her. 

She stared at her quizzically, as Hialeah sat in the grass between the two of them, gazing up at them both. Her face sat in her hand as she picked at the flowers again, switching between gazing up at them and the goats. Gillian watched as her hand sneaked through the fence to pet the billy-goat as she waited for a response from Adelaide. Horns met flesh, digging into her calloused brown skin, the bumps and edges on Hialeahs palm acting as armor against the sharpened horns. 

"I think you do. Why are you even acting like this?", Adelaide leaned in closer and hissed, "What the hell are you even doing here? You're supposed to be with the clan- and what the hell is this Dante persona you've been putting on?"

"Its been rough.", Gillian's voice felt tight, pinched. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel the blood rushing up to her ears. She was pleading silently with Adelaide, her eyes burning into her retinas, hoping to sear a silent plea into her mind. 

It seemed to work.

Adelaides face fell, sighing, "Hasn't everything been?"

"I have to work like...this so we can get enough money for the clan." Gillian's face felt hot with shame as she waited for Adelaide to respond, looking down at the ground, "The forest couldn't help us, so we need to help ourselves."

"What?"

She couldn't bring herself to tell Adelaide about the disease. 

Normally Adelaide would've tried to fight back against her claim, gave suggestions to find other medicinal herbs that could potentially fight off whatever Gillian was talking about, said she would've gone to speak with her sister or something. Even if she didn't tell her, she'd keep digging, like a spring bear looking for shoots, waiting for the right moment to tear her out of the ground for all to see. 

But this time was different. Adelaide got up from the fence, cracking her fingers as she did so. She breathed a sigh of relief, even though she knew she was going to be bombarded with questions later, the acceptance and most of all, silence, was appreciated. 

"Lets go back to the house.", she said, "All of us. We can talk more there. And...", she stared back at Hialeah, "Me and you can...catch up. Its been awhile since I've seen you- Gill."

Her eyes lingered on Gillian's pants, was it jealousy in her eyes or was she just imagining things? She suddenly swept forward, dress billowing around her, setting off towards the house. Gillian checked the goat pen, then looked towards Hialeah, who stared back at Adelaide with a wistful look in her eyes. 

"My head hurts...remind me to get a glass of water once I go inside." She thought back to the flask and grimaced, but still helped her up. The two women followed Adelaide, the Billy goats bleats filling the air as the wind blew, and the sun shone down upon them. 

Gillian looked back once to find the goat staring right at her, looking away as quickly as she could, as she walked just a bit faster away from it, Hialeah always slightly behind.

+-+-+

The kettle whistled as Hialeah took it off the cast iron stove, holding it away from her body as she quickly set it on a lace doilie on the table. Adelaide sifted through their pantry, taking out jars of pickled peaches, cucumbers, red onions until she found a small can of coffee and passed it over to Hialeah. Gillian watched in silence, her feet rocking as she sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair, as spoonfuls of the dark powder was dropped into tin mugs, the boiling hot water spilling over it letting a rich aroma into the air. 

Her straw hat was hung up on a peg, the other's gone or untouched. Even though church was over by now, they were probably out working in various areas of the farm...or at least avoiding the house, the weight earlier still hanging over everyone like a bomb just lying on the kitchen table. One wrong move and bang- everything could blow up again.

But, at least right now, the overwhelming pressure seemed to be lifted. It was mostly quiet in the room, the clinking of metal on metal the rustling of Adelaide in the pantry, and the scratching of Gillian's nails against her dry skin mostly was the only sound around. She looked down at the stained table cloth, realizing that she was sitting in Nathanial's seat. The area around him had noticeable wear and tear, some of the fabric discolored from where he set his glass down, food stains left uncleaned leaving bumpy residue which made her shiver in disgust whenever she accidentally brushed it. 

There was even some beer splotches, she knew he was a drinker, but it looked excessive, even for a man of his age. But as she looked closer, she could see even smaller stains where the bottle must've fallen or been placed, whoever was drinking it had been wearing some sort of lip coloring, which was now faintly on the tablecloth. Gillian remembered one night when she woke up to someone sneaking downstairs, but she never really thought much of it. 

She watched in silence as Hialeah washed out the metal flask, hiding it inside of her dress pocket before she turned around and set the cups down, steam rising up from them then dissipating into the air.

She didn't look at Gillian, or even glance at her, just moving the cups down to the center of the table. Occasionally, she looked over at the other woman, who was doing something (Gillian really didn't know, and didn't want to know) but she spared naught a single eye twitch at her. 

She felt a sudden touch, and looked up in hope, only to see that it was her arm- Hialeah had merely brushed her while setting up Adelaides spot. Some sort of feeling...not bitterness...not jealousy, but what felt like a pang ached in her stomach. 

Gillian looked down into her cup, at the swirling black liquid as Adelaide finally sat down, Hialeah sinking down after her. 

"Wait-", she watched as the blonde woman's fingers grasped Hialeah's dress sleeve, "I remember, when we were young, your father had a box of tobacco in his bedroom. Remember? I loved to chew on it, and I've been gone for so long I've forgotten the taste. Besides", she gestured to Gillian, "Gill and I need to catch up. She used to live in Cades Cove when we were children, and I want to know what's lead to this...predicament."

Hialeah's eyes softened towards her in a way Gillian didn't like, but she watched with great relief as she left the room and trundled upstairs.

"That was a lie.", Adelaide sighed, "I don't think Nathanial's done tobacco since the last time I was here. I used to be able to smell it all the way from down here, but I don't anymore. She'll be looking for awhile."

"Now.", she began, her fingers curled in her long blonde hair, "Where should we begin?"

Chapter Text

Gillian watched in silence as Adelaide drank from her cup, the steam rising up in the air as she touched the cup to her lips.

Gillian didn't drink any kind of human beverage, she preferred morning dew sliding off of tree leaves, or the gentle streams that used to run through the clan hideout. The water always flowed, it always had movement that gave her energy, she would feel the forest's power simmering through her veins afterwards, pushing her forward through the day. Even while she was here, Gillian would sneak out after dinner to the property's river, making the whispering currents swear that they wouldn't tell Willa before sipping from them, water dripping down her chin and wetting her shirt like she was turned a wild animal.

Gillian winced as the scalding liquid hit her lips, than her tongue, a horrible stench filling her nose and lungs. It tasted like dirt, crumbly, sun-baked dirt. This was something the paradran would give them when she was younger, and didn't bring back a good take- enough to keep her alive, but barely. She quickly set the cup down, the swirling black liquid almost taunting her, parts where the grinds and water had seperated a grayish-black. But then she looked at the other woman, Adelaide was drinking hers down like it was the only thing keeping her alive, her ears turned slightly towards the staircase. 

She looked back down, then cleared her throat, looking towards Adelaide, "I guess I should start of by...explaining all of this."

Adelaide looked up, her body fully turned toward Gillen now. The weight of her cold blue eyes fell onto her, all of the attention that she had barely gotten suddenly all on her. It was an unflattering spotlight at first, she sputtered out a couple intelligible words, garbled versions of the bouncing thoughts in her head. She needed to clear her mind, she focused on a spot just above the tips of Adelaide's undone hair as she cleared her throat. She felt sluggish as she gently traced the mouth of the mug, sharp tin cutting into her soft skin as her mind began spinning a tangled narrative to save herself. A net to catch her fall, so to speak. 

"The clan is dying."

"What?!"

Excellent opening Gillian. You really hit it right there...

"I- well...I mean that...we're just struggling right now.", she sighed. Her mind buzzed, as she tried to reassure Adelaide and herself, the shocked and dismayed expression painting her features mirroring her inside feelings. She felt like a mother trying to reassure a child that everything would be alright, even though everything would not be alright. She was a spider spinning a web of well-crafted half truths, hoping to catch Adelaide into one of them to keep her from finding out any further. 

If Adelaide knew that this was the extent that they were going to, that they were suffering this much, that the forest had failed them in a way- she'd definitely tell Willa. Willa would tell Nathanial, and Gillian would be sent back to the clan, back to the monotony of things except she'd never be able to go back. Maybe out of some sort of pity Willa would return to them for a while, patch them up just a little bit, like the padaran- just enough to survive. 

In a way, Gillian would just be even more trapped. The clan would turn on her over time, she'd be seen as a failure for not holding out long enough, and after another winter the cycle would start all over again, except it wouldn't be Gillian it would be another faeran creature, and another family.

Not a family with Hialeah, or the goats, or even the river- another family. And Gillian wouldn't even get to see it. 

So she lied. She felt it burning on her tongue as she said it, like hot coffee had been poured onto her numb mouth, and she prayed Adelaide wouldn't see the black liquid dribbling down her chin and out her mouth.. 

 "It was just a bad harvest.", the words tumbled unceremoniously out of her mouth. Gillian was good at making up stories, of spinning narratives. She had trapped Hialeah into her own little web, so what was this horsefly, Adelaide, going to do?

"Just a bad harvest, I promise you, and we need some human money to help us for winter. We need coats- you remember last winter, right?" 

Adelaide silently nodded her head.

"Y-yeah! We just need to prep in case another bad winter hits us, and if it doesn't work out, we'll sell the clothing and supplies to homesteaders, and give the money to- somebody. We haven't decided yet. Nathanial's was the one with best pay and good work, so they sent me out to take the job...its just until the end of summer Adelaide, nothing permanent."

But what if it was? The question scratched at the back of her head as she continued yammering, the numbers of the faeran clan were dwindling, and they needed all the help they could get. She already knew that the winter would be rough on them, from the few times she came back she was that few crops had been grown, half of the clan were usually out in the forest or out trading, the younger ones playing and dancing like it was still the summer before instead of coming to help.

Gillian knew it was bad to think that- but she'd cross that bridge when she got there. For now, she simply told Adelaide that it was her own idea, just for some extra, support, and yes they were doing fine. 

Adelaide sat and listened, and she slowly saw her shoulders relax, her tense form becoming into something that was close to Adelaide, but still not quite. She didn't talk about where she had been however, merely sat and listened to Gillian's story.

But as Hialeah came downstairs, explaining that she hand't found anything, lightly touching Adelaide's back as she apologized, Gillian noticed the look on her face.

As she saw her face break into a soft smile, her hand gently touching hers, she bitterly figured that it probably had something to do with her.

But how?

Chapter Text

One week prior:

It was late evening when Adelaide had gotten off the train. She smelled like cold sweat and cherry juice, she had taken advantage of the few refreshments offered on board to get her mind off of things. Her entire body had started into a nervous shake once the train had screeched to a stop, adrenaline pumping to her heart like it was expecting a wild tiger attack- but this could be considered worse than that. 

Steam and smoke still whistling in her ears, her minimal bags stuffed in her hands, she quickly stumbled off the platform onto the wet grass surrounding the station, a light rain had desended on cades cove which wet her coat and hair until she was shivering in the spring air. Her boots trampled on small dandelions as she made her way to Cade's Cove's only inn, she didn't want to return home- besides after what had all happened she was probably not wanted back.

Adelaide's mother might want her to at least visit- see how the institution did her, but any reminder of that place made Adeliade's head hurt and heart ache. Yes it had changed her, but it changed her like how a trapped bear preforms tricks in a circus, it brings entertainment to the people, but there's still woven scars scattered across the bear's matted fur like constellations drawn on by an unforgiving God. For months she had been that bear, stuck in a small cage, her captors were not ringleader carnival men but 'doctors' that were supposed to 'fix' her. She fought back against their tricks at first, but she realized that the only way she was going to survive is if she went along with them. It burned the entire time, she was slowly putting on another persona again, but this time it wasn't Adelaide instead of Alliw, it was just a cold dead version of herself that she feared was taking over her own body.

When she had first been taken to the institution, she had sworn that she wasn't going to end up being the starved bear in the cage. She swore that she was going to fight, she was going to survive, she was going to break free and run all the way back to the forest from which she came from. She would stay wild. 

But she had greatly underestimated their chains. Not only was she bound to that forsaken house, but the city surrounding it made her feel so ill, the smog choking her lungs like a poisonous barrier until she stumbled back inside, not being able to escape their binds for long. Even if she did escape they would confine her again, but this time to a much, much worse place. Somewhere, her mother threatened, that had no trees, no light, and where she'd be strapped down and be forced to change.

"I don't want that.", her mother had whispered the first night after everything broke, cupping her head in her hands, light tears glistening on her cheeks, "But if it comes to, Adelaide, it will come to. I just want to fix things."

She had meant the best, really.

She had seen the devestation that had happened when it had come out that Adelaide was having relations with some farmer's daughter, one who Adelaide refused to name when confronted on. Her reputation as dearly departed Jim Mclaren's christen, good girl, hardworking daughter had been destroyed. Now mothers had pulled away their children whenever she walked past, the few friends she had had refused to look her in the eye, and even though she had stopped hanging around the Steadman house- to avoid raising suspicion on who the farmer girl was, Willa still barely visited her anymore.

Nathanial probably advised her not to.

So in her mothers eyes, this was a way to fix all of this. If she could change her daughter, try to pick up the porcelain pieces of her shattered self and glue them back together, then everything would be ok again. Adelaide would get back to standing on the mantle piece, a broken Little Bo-Peep, but if she could continue standing next to a Little Boy Blue and not a Mary with a little lamb, then all's would end well again, life would continue to go on as normal. She wouldn't lose her sheep if she had a little boy blue. 

But for Adelaide, she didn't feel 'normal' anymore.

Her own scars were buried not just on soft pink flesh, but deep into her bones, etched into the writings of her soul. It was like at that, at that place they had forced their fingers in and crossed the carefully made stitchings in her own private tapestry, unfolding it as a way to 'fix it' but leaving it messy and out of place. She was lost, her strands drifting in the wind, she had slowly begun to lose herself. But she still tried to fight back, small bits and pieces were still intact, just barely, but the old Adelaide, the old Alliw, they had been gone with the wind. She had lost them, with not a single hope of return. Chasing after those pieces meant going back to the institution, where she'd only lose more of herself until she was nothing at all, and locked in that lightless, treeless place, forgotten about by everyone else. 

Was that why she didn't recognize this place anymore?

That was not her home

Not anymore, at least.

Her home was in someone else's bed, a bed surrounded by dead wooden walls, but was more alive than any part of the forest she had stepped foot into. She wanted to go back to that safe place, that soft glen in an unforgiving forest- but it wasn't her home, it was their home, and after hearing what had happened she couldn't ever go back to that place.

Her face burned with embarrassment as out of the corner of her eye she saw a couple of townsfolk look her way as she quickly trudged down the path, the incident- although it had probably been months since it first came out- still it was clearly on everyone's mind. She touched the cross wrapped around her neck like a noose as a signal to them that she had changed, the nervous tic had first started out as annoying but had become helpful over time. She gripped the sleeves of her long dress, thin blonde hair covering her face like a veil as she waved to one of them- one of the mothers that had stopped letting Adelaide watch over her little children.

It worked.

The mother waved back, smiling, but the insides of Adelaide's body still burned with shame when she turned away. The mask worked all to well, and it was like she was in the institution again, threads unwinding and being lost to the wind.

She was losing herself, and she needed to go to back to the person who could fix it all, the person who could bring back the old Adelaide, the person who had started it all.

She would rest in the inn for two days, then go back when the time felt right. She needed to fix all of this, but she couldn't continue breaking herself in the process.

Adelaide looked out one last time at Cades Cove before slipping into the inn, like how a dog cowers away from its owner before reeling back for the bite. 

Chapter Text

Adelaide immediately tried to visit as soon as she woke up.

It was full on raining, water pounding at the windowpanes, running down like fat tears to the shriveled up garden below. She had spent the night tossing and turning,the mattress squeaked and the bed frame groaned as she did so, her thoughts filled with her. She had eventually given up and gone to the window, like the olden days when she couldn't rest. Just like when she was twelve, she climbed onto the top of the dresser and peeked through the small window, watching the moon, letting it run her mood as she looked out at the peaceful valley surrounding her. There was almost no one out, and the people who were out were mainly loggers returning home, or drunken, boisterous men causing trouble.

She used to love watching those people like they were wild animals, her own private show that she would giggle at from afar.

Now, Adelaide was focused on something else.

Scanning the mountains, her blue eyes fell on a specific spot that she swore she saw chimney smoke arising from the trees, her heart beat faster with a slight ache as she fixated on it.

I see you, she whispered to herself, watching the smoke rise and dissipate into the night sky, until the sun peaked it's head over the trees, and the smoke stopped. She fell into a deep sleep, lulled by the taste of woodsmoke on her lips, whether it was just blown over by a careless wind, or it was her way of saying hello again, Adelaide felt the sun on her face and curled up on bed.

It's you, it's you, it's all for you.

She had made up the trek a couple hours later when clouds had covered the sun, and the overpowering smell of a world before a storm had clouded the fading scent of woodsmoke, hurrying out of the inn and into the world. Barely anybody was out during such poor weather like today, and Adelaide was about to use that to her advantage. She had forgotten most of the language of the faeran, but she still knew how to make the mud cover up her tracks as she made her way to the house. She didn't want anyone to trace it back to her, and use it to find the mystery woman. She felt her face burn with embarrassment as she climbed over a tree branch, the branch reaching out as if in a greeting, but Adelaide didn't answer.

She didn't know how to. The institution had sucked everything out of her.

She pushed past confused oaks, pines, and willows, each one confused why she didn't stop to curl up in them like rest like the old days. She ignored their questions because she feared that if she answered they would realize and tell the clan. She didn't want to be ostracized from anywhere else anymore, so she stayed quiet. Soon enough, the protection of the thick leaves seemed to dwindle with every step she took, and even heavily forested areas suddenly became as clear as a prairie every time she walked in it.

By the time she reached the house, she was soaked.

The little wooden cabin used peeked up like an expectant face, eyes soft with a warm glow from the lights lit inside, a sweet scent from the flowers planted hanging in the air, the sounds of her what was almost a second family always in the air. 

Man...how things had changed.

It was completely silent. No birds sang, no bees buzzed, and the only thing that she heard was the pattering of rain on the wooden roof, the smoke long gone. Looking around, she saw that something- a wolf probably, some wild animal, had gotten into the flowerbeds Hialeah had so painstakingly planted. She remembered the summer two years ago when Nathanial had brought back flower seeds for her, Hiaeah had been moping around that year and did need something to do. Willa had offered to help her plant them, but she had snapped back with the sharpest "Its my project.", Adelaide had ever heard.

She suspected it was deeper than that. 

The flowers had turned out beautifully, reds, golds, pinks dotting the front of the house for summers to come, but as she watched rain wash dirt away, she just felt a heavy pit form in her stomach. Hialeah had been so proud of them. Even though by the end of it, her fingers were cracked and bleeding from the summer heat, her hair falling out and her body practically shutting down with how much time she had spent in the hot sun, she beamed at them like they were an extension of herself.

"It's beautiful.", she had whispered, taking Adelaides hand when her fathers back was turned.

"You're beautiful.", she had whispered back, not wanting to pass up on the opportunity. Her grip on Adelaides fingers tightened, and just like that, her mood was changed. 

"Don't lie to me.", she hissed, her eyes growing dark as a shadow passed over the flowers. Adelaide grew quiet.

Of course, Adelaide thought this as she made her way towards the house, she had Hialeah's relationship had been quite...rocky. She liked her first, back when she was seventeen, when she still had blonde hair that tangled at the end, and a gap-toothed smile. It started out as her just watching Hialeah work, watching the woman from afar while Willa talked to her about something, or while she was out gathering food for her family. When she started working part time for Nathanial, just helping with the apple orchard and crops was when she had began to make advances. Hialeah was only two years older than her, but Adelaide chased her like a desperate man twice her age. 

Sure...it might've been a bit out of character of her, but Adelaide knew nothing of this feeling, other than it was obsession and that she liked it. 

Now, she stood in front of the Steadman's front door, fingers poised to knock like it was any other day. Once the news had broken out she had stopped coming to the Steadman residence, and Nathanial didn't seem to mind that. He hadn't even sent any of his children over to see how she was doing, or visited to give her mother some extras from their farm- that was just simple help but still. It was like Adelaide was gone from his life. From what she had last heard, he had hired a new handyman, which just made her stomach hurt.

She knew that she and Hialeah would never be the same thing they were before again. Too many things had changed, in such a short while.

She was only coming to say hello, and that was it.

Adelaide steeled herself as she knocked.

She waited for what felt like an eternity before she heard pattering footsteps, not Hialeahs, come to the door. A short woman with dark hair and monolids opened the door, her eyebrows creased as she looked up at her. There was a dishrag in her hands, flour on her apron, and a slight bump that saddled her. She held herself like it was her secret, but it was so obvious to Adelaide that it was almost obnoxious. She had only been gone for a couple of months, god dammit, was life really moving this fast without her?

At least it wasn't Hialeah.

"Hello...?". Her voice was soft, yet pensive. Adelaide had never seen this person before in her life, so she assumed that this was either the new farmhand (She doubted it, her hands looked too soft and too clean to ever see the grunt work of a field), or someone had gotten married. She hoped it was Iska, they weren't close but it'd be nice if something good like that happened to him, but she wouldn't be suprised if she was Nathanials.

"Um...hello. I'm Adelaide. I'm here-I'm here to see Hialeah?", she cursed herself for stuttering, her heart beating fast and strong.

The woman's face grew more pinched, as she looked behind her shoulder, and leaned in towards her, "Adelaide right?"

She nodded impaitently, looking over her shoulder trying to catch a glimpse into the kitchen.

"Alright, umm I'm Yajian", the woman caught one glance at Adelaides questioning face and sighed, "Just call me Jane." 

"I'm here to see Hialeah.", she repeated, trying to push past Jane. She felt unusually strong fingers clamp into her back, and felt her body being pushed away from the door, "The thing is", she snapped, looking at her shocked expression, "I'm not supposed to let you in. He told me to."

"What?"

She wasn't that surprised, but it still hurt. She had a feeling she knew who 'he' was. He always knew something was up, they weren't slick at all. She wasn't slick at all. All those nights spent in the barn, all those days out in the fields working, he had known this entire time. He had seen the outcome of it. He was trying to protect his daughter.

But what did that mean for her?

If he didn't tell, then he must've not cared, but...

Adelaide's mouth gaped open like a fish before she closed it, still looking at Jane in trembling shock.

"Just...just go already ok? You aren't supposed to be here. They didn't tell me why...", she trailed off, staring at her awkwardly.

The message was received. 

"No- I, I understand. I will take my leave. Thank you, Jane.", she swallowed what felt like a rock down her throat.

Things really have changed. 

Chapter Text

Adelaide sat on the fence post, her long blonde hair rippling in the wind like laundry on a thin wire. The coffee that had sat inside of her system was long gone now, and even though she was supposed to feel hunger, all she could feel was the warm sun on her face, and the tickle of grass at her feet. The sun was in the middle of the sky now, the full force blazing back down onto the earth. A couple trees dotted the expanse that surrounded the house, but she didn't even bother trying to sit underneath one of them. A normal faeran would, not to pass up the shade of a good friend, but she felt more like an enemy these days than an ally. She felt a pit in her stomach form as she imagined Gillian seeing her like this. A reject of the forest, the one abandoned by the very thing she'd been chasing all her life. The secret was pins and needles stabbed into her heart, it roiled inside of her like a snake trapped in a constrictor's grip. 

Nobody else seemed to notice. Hialeah was resting herself against Adelaides knee, laying back in the grass with one hand shadowing her face and the other at her side. Gillian was steadily watching the road beyond, hanging onto the fence, her body pushed outwards as she strained looking through the tall grass and steep hill. She still didn't fully understand why she had to call her 'Gill', Hialeah would understand her plight and not tell Willa, but she assumed it was something deeper than that. She watched with steady, knowing eyes, as the woman lightly touched her shoulder, bending down and whispering something into her ear. She pointed at the wildflowers beyond, at almost the very edge of the forest, at the bottom of the hill where the road touched the firsts of the trees. Without a glance back at Adelaide, she quickly jumped the fence with surprising agility, making her way carefully down the incline, whenever she stumbled Adelaide felt her heart flutter with a slight panic. 

It was probably nothing, she was just being paranoid. Memories of a man falling from a rock into a mudslide played over and over in her mind until she blocked it out, it had been practically a decade, she needed to get over it. 

Still, she breathed in and out. She wouldn't mention what Gillian had told her to Hialeah, for whatever reason that was, but Gillian wasn't one for making rash, or silly decisions. There was a reason behind this, and although she didn't seem like she wanted to tell her, Adelaide would somehow find out the whole truth. A 'bad harvest?' Really? The forest was supposed to be able to help them, but as she watched a nearby oak almost retract the leaves in her vicinity, she sighed.

There was more to it. There always seemed to be more to it, these days. She was getting really tired of that expression...

A lot of things had changed while she was gone, and as she looked up at the sky- the sun had now just moved a bit more than what felt like minutes before- she wondered if she would ever catch up again. A couple days before she had made her second, and successful attempt, she had overheard from someone at the inn a girl she used to know had gotten married and was expecting children. She spotted some of her youngest siblings already out of the house and working in neighboring fields, they had been growing cabbages when she left, and now they had suddenly switched over to potatos, even with the smallest glimpse she had gotten of her mother, she looked like she had aged significantly in the time she was gone. She wondered what she had missed, what people had seen that they weren't telling her. 

It felt like the few people she knew and trusted were all in some big thing that she was being excluded from. 

Everywhere she looked, every place she went, everyone she spoke to all seemed to be hiding something. To be concealing something, to be keeping a secret from the rest of the world. Adelaide had acted like that once, but once everything spilled her life was over. Whos to say these folks weren't hiding as something as huge as that?

"Hialeah?"

Her voice cut through the warm air, a fly that had been buzzing near her ear flew away as she looked down at the woman. She looked preoccupied with something, lost in her thoughts, occasionally looking over her shoulder down at the road.

"Hmm?"

"Did I- did I miss something while I was gone?"

She heard a slight chuckle, "No, I don't think so. Nothing ever happens here- well, Iska got married, but other than that, nothing serious took place."

"Thank God", Adelaide said, almost instinctively, reaching up to touch her cross then reminding herself that it was gone. She had taken it off earlier that morning, prior to visiting Hialeah, the memories of the institution almost too much to bear. She wasn't that religious, but she still did believe, even though these past couple of months it felt like God had turned his back on her. The institution didn't make it any better, presenting a false idol that she should pray to, one that had hurt her mind and body. She was still trying to heal, but the vision of the cross brought back more bad memories than good.

"You know, the most interesting thing that's happened to me so far was finding out you knew Gill.", Hialeah tittered. Her eyes looked cloudy, like she was only half the way there, and Adelaide could sense what she said was...half true. There was something more behind it. 

"Yeah well, I could recognize her from a mile away. Yes, we met in childhood, we used to play by the..the river together."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Thats nice."

"I suppose, I suppose it is."

Hialeah fell silent again, and Adelaide sighed internally. She wished things could go back to the way they used to be, they used to sit at this exact same spot, just out of view from the house after both girls finished their chores. Those moments were quiet...intimate, whispers and giggles being shared, another Hialeah blooming in front of her eyes. Adelaide remembered one warm Sunday evening, just after a full day of church, they had brought out her fathers mulberry wine and drank, the sweet liquid leaving them wanting more, more, more. Adelaide couldn't control herself, she had kissed her warm cheek with such passion that for several heartbeats she just sat there, taking her all in, as Hialeah downed the rest of the bottle, shoving her away as she did so.

They talked so much that one evening, Hialeah had ran the conversation, and whenever Adelaide leaned in for kisses, for love, she always broke out into another round of just speaking. It stung- but her voice had such a sharp edge to it that it was a hook to her gaping fish mouth. The wine had brought out a lot in them, and by the end of the night, Hialeah had finally given in.

"Just this once", she had hissed, "Just this once and you won't tell anyone, you hear me? Anyone."

She seemed reluctant, but she leaned in and gave Adelaide a long kiss on not the cheek but her lips, the smell of soap and pine needles strong as Adelaide leaned in. Her eyes were completely closed, like she was trying to block Adelaide herself out, and only trying to focus on the fact that she was, she was a girl. It wasn't a problem, she understood. They were probably the only people like this in the mountains, and she allowed herself to get lost in that moment. 

Adelaide wanted that reality back, other than this awkward tension that the two held. Hialeah seemed to think that she could drop the pin whenever she wanted, and Adelaide just felt constantly confused by the new world that she had been plopped into. 

"Come on.", she said, her black hair whipping in the wind as she got up, "Father will be back soon. You should...you should probably leave soon."

Gladly. 

Adelaide opened her mouth to speak, to say something before she was left alone again, but instead of her cracking voice, an ear shattering scream took its place. 

The two women spun around to find Gillian, her left hand holding a couple of wildflowers she must've picked, her body rolling down the hill and landing onto a stone with a sharp CRACK. The two women watched in horror, not even noticing at first the figures walking down the road, oblivious to the sight that would soon befall them. Adelaide's face went white, as she quickly stumbled down the hill towards Gillian, Hialeah speeding in front of her. 

"She must've- she must've tripped, oh my god Gill, say something..."

The hill was steep. 

She noticed a couple rocks pushed up in the ground, rocks that were so well concealed that someone not looking could stumble over them and fall onto their back. The wildflowers were clearly meant for someone, and if she was moving at that speed...

No. 

She wouldn't think about the implications of that. 

"How the hell did this happen? Gill, what were you doing?", Adelaide glanced nervously at the figures, who were getting closer and closer. She couldn't be seen by them...she wasn't supposed to be here, and if they- he in particular found out that she was with his daughter...

"I have to go.", she hissed, "I'll come back later, ok? I'm not allowed to be here."

Hialeah didn't even respond, muttering to herself she practically shooed her off, "I'll figure out something", she said, then quietly mumbled shakily, "I..I always do."

Was it to herself or Adelaide?

She didn't find out, because as soon as the figures got close, she ran into the bushes, not even a second glance behind her. 

Chapter Text

"I'll figure out something", Hialeah silently insisted to herself as Adelaides figure disappeared down the back road that sloped around the house.

Her blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight as she rounded the corner, escaping like a trapped deer from a bear trap. She was both grateful and terrified at the fact that she had ran off like that- Adelaide would just make things worse, and with all the memories that flooded back to her after her high from the flask had worn off, she really couldn't handle more stress. But Adelaide, even though their relationship was rather strained, was a better bet at helping than the others.

Adelaide knew that Gill wasn't Dante, and in the event they had to take an article of clothing or do something that made her gender obvious, then there wouldn't be any issues. Her family and the doctors in the mountains on the other hand...

Great.

Just great.

Her day was going wonderfully.

There were two options, and both ended with her and Gill being seperated. Even though they had only known each other for a month or so, she felt closer to this woman than any other person in her entire life. Gill seemed to understand her, could read between each sharp-toothed comment and every bramble encircled sentence, and if she lost her...she wouldn't know what she would do.

She couldn't go back to the before. If she lost Adelaide than fine, it would just be a bit of her past breaking off, but if she lost Gill, as in fully lost her, then it would be like her mothers death all over again. Gill surviving was the best bet, even if her family shunned her for what she had done, even if she was sent to a mental ward, she'd be alive and Hialeah would still be able to visit her. Somehow.

So she needed to do this. 

Her hands sticky with blood, she looked down at Gill, who thankfully still seemed to be still conscious, but she gulped as she assessed the damage. She had gotten good at treating injuries, she had had to, back in the tunnels she'd have to bandage either herself or others when the guards were feeling particularly violent. They were usually minor injuries, no broken bones or bashed in skulls- the guards wanted to break them but not literally. 

It didn't take a medical certificate to understand that this was serious. Hialeah quickly tore a scrap of fabric from her dress and pressed it to her bleeding skull, a gash had been torn by the rock into her soft flesh, her brown hair now matted and stained red. She looked over her body, and internally gagged. Her leg was clearly broken, she could see the white bone sticking out of her shin, and her left ankle been twisted from where she had stumbled. Gill had fallen on her back, and rolled down the hill because of that, so she hoped her spine wasn't damaged either. She deduced that her heel must've spun on a rock with the force of how quickly she had been running up- one of her mothers warnings played like a track in her mind- " Use the path, its clearly paved, that's why we have it, Hialeah."

Shut up, shut up, shut up...

"Its ok...you're gonna be ok, you'll be just fine, don't you worry!", she cried aloud suddenly, the crack in her voice scaring her. She couldn't lose anyone else...she couldn't be alone again, "Gill, you better stay right here with me...". She could finally see her father and her brother clearly, his wife and Willa trailing behind, talking about something Hialeah couldn't hear. She raised her hand tentatively, then started waving it around like a madman, the fire inside of her crackling and roaring as she began screaming incoherently for help.

It doesn't matter if they find out or not, what mattered is if she survived.

"He's hurt!", she wailed, cradling Gill's bleeding head to her chest, her hazel eyes fluttering opening and closing as Hialeah screamed louder. Sticky blood trailed down the front of her dress, her sleeves were fully pushed up as she rested Gill's head on her lap, and unfortunately her heart appeared to be showing with her sleeve. This moment had made her show more emotion than even these past few weeks, it was like the morning but ten times more intense.

This wasn't about her anymore.

She screamed and sobbed as more panicked voices surrounded her, and she was dragged off of her, scooped up in Iskas arms and carried toward the house, away from her. She felt someone hoist her up, she had completely lost her mind as she ran after them like a madman, her sense of self completely gone.

An animalistic feeling coursed through her veins, similar to when they had first escaped the tunnels and were running through the woods, the scars, both inside and out she had gotten in there burning themselves into her body. Except these were new scars, and future scars hung around her head, memories of the knife she had used just the day prior crawling out of the deepest pits into her mind.

She pushed it back down and continued running and shouting after them, but the two men ignored her like she was of no use, even though she had quite literally held Gill in her arms before they had gotten there.

Nathanial held the now blood-soaked cloth to her head like he put it there, barking out nonsensical orders to Hialeah and the two other women. She only half understood what he had said, she laid a towel on the floor and gathered the gauze and bandages, as Yajian got a couple boards that she didn’t even know they had lying around. Willa had gathered a couple vines, and she watched with a sick sense of horror as they bandaged Gill’s leg up, her stomach aching as each vine gently tightened the boards around it, making a stiff cast so that her leg could heal. 

Her head was tightly wrapped with gauze, some ice from the icebox pressed against her swelling ankle, and her left hand had somehow found Hialeah’s. Her heart stopped for a moment as she felt a gentle squeeze, her breathing easing as she looked at her worried family members. 

“Hes…he’s awake. I think…Dante-”, she paused for a moment, looking back down at the young man. Her family sat tentatively around her, as she felt another subtle yet gentle squeeze, “He’s alive. Are we going to be moving him somewhere?”

He ignored her. 

Her father, his eyes still not meeting his daughters, sighed deeply through his nose, “Lets keep him here for now. Jane, go put the kettle on. Iska, go with your sister to find some herbs, and Hialeah…”

He looked at her strangely, like he was almost unsure with what he should do with her. She had stopped crying, and was looking up at him definitely, but all he  seemed to be able to see was the incident that morning,which now seemed so far past. Her hand still was being held by Gill, his cold blue eyes fell onto that as he sighed, once again.

“You finished the washing yet?”

The washing? 

Hialeah stared at her father in disbelief, and watched as he flushed, quickly trying to play it off with a, “Go get something clean for him to wear, preferably loose. You washed my pyjama pants, yes?”

She nodded quietly. 

“Go get that.”, he said, the familiar tense bark in his voice. His shoulders were tense as he watched Hialeah get up, then as he crouched down to tend some more to Gill, who had let out a pained moan when she had began to walk down the hall. She knew he only meant the best, but watching the others with such important tasks, she felt undermined. She knew that if she hadn’t pressed that cloth to her head to staunch the bleeding in time, Gill would be much worse than she already was. 

She knew that, but she still stayed quiet, shifting through the piles of laundry she had done a while back. She still hadn’t gotten to her clothing yet, the dress she was wearing she had worn a couple days prior, and the thought of only seeing her mothers dress made her sick. She needed to get to everyone else first, tend to them first.

After that, her needs would matter. 

‧₊˚📜✩‧₊˚

“He’s awake.”, Iska said a couple hours later, his head popping into her bedroom. Hialeah looked up from her book, the sudden shock she felt making her completely abandon it as she stood up, the book being knocked onto the floor. 

“He is? How?”

“Doctor came ‘round. Gave him something, i don't remember what, but he’s been asking for you.”, he raised an eyebrow, “Got something going on?”

“What? No, of course not- just, take me to him.”

Iska sighed, then nodded, “Come on. You’re in for an earful from him.”

Chapter Text

Hialeah quickly peeked into the room, the doctor and her father long gone, but she could still feel their presence deep in the air. She could feel their eyes through the small photographs that hung on the wall, like they were trying to catch her, watching through the thin wooden walls for any sort of foolishness. Even though the doctor had long left, and her father was downstairs in the kitchen, they both had a certain electricity to them that unsettled her.

At the very least, Gill looked better, her head had been wrapped more securely by the doctor, her leg propped up on a ton of pillows, and her breathing looked steady and normal. She had fixed her sheets a little, there was a blanket blocking her nose- Christ did these people know anything?- which she had promptly secured, like she was some sort of robot. Hialeah sat in a chair near her bed, her hand tracing Gill's forehead, it was instinct to check for a fever whenever someone was as vulnerable as this.

God, she hated this. She hated this feeling, she felt so helpless, so lost, being forced to watch on the sidelines and not do anything. She was no doctor or magician,she couldn't fix broken bones or heads, and she definently couldn't fix Gill being sent back home after this. She felt like she was falling with no end to the pit, so lost and trapped in a world that seemed so against her. 

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't even hear her brother peek in. 

Iska stood in the doorway, two beats of silence passed before he sighed and said, "I'll leave you two to it. Dinners going to be ready soon."

Hialeah nodded, half-paying attention to what he was saying, the rest of her focused entirely on Gill, "Call me down when it is. Who's making it?"

"Yajian. She said she'd give you a break besides...", he gestured awkwardly to Gill, "We assumed you'd be preoccupied."

"I don't have anything going on with her- him.", she snapped, "I'm just worried ok? I don't want anyone else dying here. I'm just doing this to make sure he gets home with all pieces intact- Brennan's farm-boy a couple miles over fell out of a pear tree and had to get his shin removed."

"He's gonna be fine. You're overthinking it. I mean- we've objectively been through worse and we still-"

Hialeah pinched the space between her eyes and turned away, her mind suddenly filled with memories and recollections she didn't want to remember, especially in this moment. Iska paused his sentence, and sighed.

"Sorry. I know you don't like to talk 'bout it."

"I would its just...", she rolled her eyes to herself, her hands gripping her dress in bunches, "Nobody would get it. Like 'get-it'. Even father never really spoke about it, did he?"

"He did to me once. Just a couple of questions, asked if I was hurt, e-t-c."

She paused for a moment, and turned back towards him, her eyes crinkling in confusion and slight shock, "Really?"

"Yeah, he pulled me and Inali aside a couple weeks afterward. I don't think Inali really remembered anything, bless his soul..."

"Amen", she quickly added, the memory of her dead brother making the fresh wound of the memories hurt even harder, "But that's strange. He never- he never asked me about anything."

"He might've just been scared. Father loves you, you know, he just doesn't know how to show it. It's easier with boys anyway...", he trailed off, "I should be heading back downstairs. That woman, love her to bits but I cannot trust her not to set a kitchen on fire-"

Iska quickly left, and Hialeah sunk back down into her chair, grateful to leave the stifled conversation. Her attention turned back Gill, who was beginning to stir, her hands stretching out and her fingers twitching. She took a deep breath, pushing back some of her sweaty locks and looking into her  eyes. Her face crinkled into an involuntary soft smile as she cupped her cheek, Gill's puffy lips cracking into a lopsided sort of grin.

"Welcome back. You took quite a fall."

"Fmmgr-"

"Shh...", she pressed a gentle finger to her lips, "You scared me, you know that?", she gently reprimanded.

Was it just her, or was she blushing?

Hialeah gently pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, pushing back her thick curls to get to soft, sweaty brown skin, her lips touching some scratchy gauze, so she moved her mouth down to her cheek. She pulled back, and gingerly felt her forehead again- no fever of course, but there seemed to be an instinct inside of her to protect, to serve, to care. She knew that these last few weeks before Gill would be sent home would be fleeting- the ending was inevitable of course, so she wanted to make the most out of everything. 

Hialeah worked in silence, the sounds from downstairs being blocked out of her mind as she changed the pillows propping up her leg to something more comfortable, wiping her head with a cool cloth and fussing over the state of her sheets. She found a water jug and poured Gill a glass, bringing it to cracked lips as she held it for her, nursing her like she was a baby bird.

Gill cleared her throat once, opening her mouth to speak, and in the softest voice Hialeah had ever heard, said, "I'm sorry this has all happened. I found some flowers that I thought you'd like, and in my excitement I guess I must've..."

"Fallen.", Hialeah whispered back, her hand on hers, Gill's head nestled into the crook of her elbow as she cradled her. She had never experienced such an intimate moment like this, and with someone she'd barely known for a month now, but Gill made it feel oh so right. She had had relations similar to this before, Adelaides was a rose in the garden that was her life, but the thorns had underminded what had been the beauty of it. But Gill...Gill was like a marigold. She wasn't that much, something simple and plain really- Hialeah really didn't know her backstory, but she stuck out. She was colorful and interesting, there were so many layers to her that Hialeah wanted to uncover. 

Gill was different. 

"Yes, I...I fell.", she said, leaning back into Hialeahs warm embrace. 

A heartbeat passed.

Than another. 

More could've made their way down her heart and into her body, but a sudden noise jarred her out of her system. She startled so hard that Hialeah could practically hear her heart stopping, and as she turned towards the noise, an overwhelming sense of dread seeped into her veins. Cold, hard fear was the only thing she felt as she turned towards the doorway, the familiar face looking back at her making her want to puke.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

The young man from Qualla Boundary, the same young man who now had a moon-shaped scar on his forearm, was standing in the doorway, looking right at the pair.

Chapter Text

Understanding the mind first came with understanding the body. 

Hialeah learned from a young age that you didn't need a fancy slip of paper to tell how someone was feeling, their shoulders, posture, the way they twisted their mouth or squinched their eyes could tell you everything about them. She had used the method to survive her father in the earlier days after the attack when even a single loud noise from him could send her into hysterics, she used it to escape conflicts long before they began, she used it to weasel around the damming topic that hung so heavy between Adelaide and her. 

The young man in front of her’s shoulders weren't tense, so he wasn’t as shocked as she thought he would be, his brow was furrowed in confusion, and as he stepped into the room he cleared his throat a bit. Her fingers, laced with Gills, left her hand as she quickly sat back down in the chair. She straightened her posture, put on her usual cold expression, her eyes set sternly upon him like a schoolteacher observing a misbehaving boy, even though they appeared to at least be the same age. 

“Right, ah, your father wants me to tell you that theres a plate waiting for you downstairs. Whenever you want to get it, of course”, he said, quickly adding on the last part, Hialeah could tell he was trying to imply that he wasn't going to tell about her and Gills…relationship, but she still stood on edge. The two of them reminded her of the time she had seen a hawk and a fox trapped in a hunters cage, both of them were bloodied and bruised from past battles yet they as they sat on opposite sides watching her, she could tell that in their situation they were equals.

She wondered if this man might sympathize with her, see how she was trying to protect her only companion in this jungle of a house, maybe he was the hawk to her fox. In any case, she still sat on edge. She couldn't tell if he was a threat yet or not, and she wasn't willing to risk any chances.

Gill’s left pointer finger rose weakly as she stared at the man, he nodded in recognition, “I heard. Dante, you took a nasty fall didn't you? Never took you for the clumsy type.”

Hialeah looked down at her expectantly as she heard a weak guffaw, it was clear that they weren’t as close as she thought with a hint of jealousy how easy Gill had it when making friends. She wondered if her upbringing had something to do with it, Hialeah had grown up in a small family with not that much human interaction outside of her mother and father, and Gill had supposedly grown up in a large family who were ‘as interconnected as tree roots’, whatever that meant. In any case, she felt awkward standing there, the memory of the knife coming back to her mind as she tried to push it out, looking away from the man and at her feet. 

“And you’re…you’re Steadman’s daughter, arent you?”

She pressed her eyes shut and her mouth into a thin line, her hands folding in defeat in her lap, before answering, “Yes, yes I am. I think we got off to a bad start…my names Hialeah.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, “Waysa.”, he said, sticking out his hand for her to shake. His grip was surprisingly strong, because to Hialeah he looked like a Willow-branch in march, weak with the first buds of spring popping up. She glanced at small red bumps on his chin, it was clear that manhood had hit him later than the others and was still going to keep it's hold on him for at least a couple more months. Interesting. 

She felt Gill's arm brush hers, she had enough control over it that she could move it- thank god- but still she swung it like it was a wet sack of meat. She gently took her hand in hers, and began stroking it softly, whispering to her, "Go to sleep. Rest will be critical for recovery."

Hialeah stood up, she didn't want to leave Gill, but she knew she had spent too much time up there and she didn't want anyone getting suspicious. Gill was Dante after all, and believing his daughter could be involved in 'ungodly affiar's she knew that if they spent too much time together, she'd get sent away quicker. 

"Tell me about yourself.", Waysa said, walking down the stairs, "Whats your thing with, well Dante?"

"We're friends.", she answered quietly, "Good friends."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm?"

"He's a...well I don't want to sound weird here, but is he a girl or am I just going insane?"

The hawk showed his true colors. Hialeah turned towards him, trying to act normal but on her face there was a clear look of horror. Strangely though, Waysa's face was calm, he seemed relaxed like they were just two friends sharing stories about strangers they didn't know. 

Chapter Text

Hialeah turned and glanced at the young man as she stood at the landing just in front of the stairs, contemplating if she should just walk down and leave him there all by himself. Her heart pounded in her chest like she was a foal in the entrapment of a maw of a wolf, desperately trying to wiggle out and free herself. Hialeah took a breath to steady herself, reminding herself that she was also at equals with this man, and she could get out of this. Maybe if she pretended to not hear him he’d forget about it, but judging by the way she could practically feel his eyes bearing into the back of her back…there really was no way getting out of this, was there?

Waysa seemed trustworthy enough. Although their meeting was not quite on the most proper terms, he had still treated her kindly. Maybe she could give him a chance- he did look similar enough to be her brother, and maybe thats what made her feel so relaxed around him. Hialeah never took to keeping close to men, especially after the incident, but the only men she spent most of her time around were her father and his pale-skinned friends, and even before that, the occasional faeran man who would come by the house for one of her sisters many, many meetings on the human-fae relationship. And the fact that although they probably weren't from the same tribe, they were still at equals in their place in the world. Waysa had interested her, he seemed so in cahoots with their shared culture. He had the invitation to a party that she didn't even know how to get to, as the invite she was supposed to receive she had never gotten, her mother locking it away somewhere. Before her mother had died she had few friends over, the ones she did have she had left when she had went to get married, and her only brother had died long before Hialeah was born. Both their grandparents lived too far away to travel, and Nathanial's parents, their grandparents, had made sure to sink into that extra, missing hole.

Her relationship with her other half, her mother, her bridge between her and her second history had been burned when her mother had died. Nathanial himself admitted that he didn't know much about the Cherokee culture her mother had grown up with, that her mother never really liked to mention that side of herself, leaving Hialeah’s thirst still aching. It was clear that this young man had had grown up surrounded in that world that she so wanted to be in, and she knew even with his backstory so contradicting hers that they would have similar stories about their lives, their childhoods, and maybe more. Waysa looked kind, he looked like he could keep a secret. But men were like dogs, loyal and tamed, but that wild, dangerous side still lingering underneath. The air between them felt taunt, like an arrow about to released from a bow, but also like the moment before a release from pain, a numb, build up of tension before everything broke loose.

She slowly turned around. The sun was slowly setting, casting long, grey-colored shadows in the hallway, bathing both of their faces in a golden light. His black hair hung loose around his shoulders as his eyes locked with hers, his brows furrowed but with the soft reprimand of an older brother or mentor. 

“Is…”

“I know, it's dumb. Just a thought, sorry you had to hear that”, he tittered awkwardly, trying to alleviate the tension, “Lets go downstairs, I can smell dinner from here”.

“Why do you want to know so badly?”, she asked, her tongue swirling the words and spitting them out like hellfire.

“What?”

“Why do you want to know? Question for a question.”

“It’s just- I just had a feeling, ok? I wouldn't tell anyone if it was true, that isnt my business…”

“Are you suggesting that you believe he is transsexual?”

“Even if he was, I assure you, i would not tell your father. I am here for one reason only, besides, dramatics aren't really my thing.”, Waysa effectively brushed off her accusation, gently leading her downstairs to her father. Hialeah could tell he was telling the truth, and even when she flinched away from his touch he didn't question it. She decided that she liked him, maybe in the way that women her age did with other men, the normal way. 

Yes, the normal way. 

+-+-+-+

“I’m sorry I put you through all this trouble…”, Hialeah said to Yajian, gently touching her hand as the family quietly dined. The sun had completely set, the dining room lit aglow with soft, flickering gaslight. The memory of Hialeahs outburst that morning was just a memory swept underneath the rug, same with her hangover- which was now beginning to come back.

Her head slightly pounded, whether from stress or her flask she didn't know, or even care really, but she drank more water in hopes it would counteract the alcohol, and to also give her mouth something to do. She didn't know how to talk to Yajian, the younger womans personality clashed so heavily with hers, so she pretended to sip her water daintily as she waited for a response.

Cornbread was steaming on her plate, along with the remains of a salmon her father had caught earlier that morning, greenery was arranged in a way that it wasn't touching any of the other components of her meal- just the way she liked it. She bitterly thought for a moment that it was better than she could ever do, and watching her family members quietly eat their meals only proved her point. Usually they’d be deep in conversation by now, the food growing cold over discussions on whatever her father felt like talking about, but the only sound tonight was the scraping of forks on plates. 

Even Willa, who usually made backhanded comments about her food, especially when meat was a large part of it, was quiet over her alternative meal of some soup Yajian had cooked up in the kitchen.

“No, no no! You were busy tending to Dante, I completely understand!”, she responded quickly,” Besides, I need to get my practice in. I’ll be cooking a lot, i'm sure of it, especially with how much Iska eats.”, she giggled.

“We used to say that his real mother was one of our horses.”, Hialeah laughed gently, trying to connect herself with her sister in law. See? I don't bite. 

Yajian squawked loudly at this, and Hialeah quickly put a hand over her ear, out of the corner of her eye she could see her fathers head shoot up.

“Speaking of Dante”, Iska quickly said, trying to change the subject, “He seems to be doing better. He was awake and speaking when I went to go see him.”

“Hopefully he’ll be up and at it soon…”, her father mumbled, “It's going to be high-time crop season soon, and we’ll need all the help we can get…”

“You're not sending him back home?”

“It would cost too much money”, her father said, his blue eyes casting it's glance onto his daughters face, “He’ll just use a leg brace, it's fine.”

Internally, Hialeah's heart began to stop pounding. 

Shes fine.

She’ll be fine.

We’ll be fine.