There was little noise coming from within Rowlett’s Mechanic Shop as the sun waned overhead. The white-washed concrete building stood out among the dusty road before it and the open field of tan, swaying grass behind it. Two barn doors fixed on metal tracks were rolled open at their widest, and just above them were the freshly painted red letters that bore the shop’s name.

Within the shop, rows of shelves, stacks of metal, and parts of every kind lined the walls. Short windows butted against the tall ceiling and lined the back and side walls to let in air and additional light into the room. The occasional metal clang was surpassed only by short bursts of the rhythmic clicking of a ratcheting wrench.

All the while, there was not a single word uttered from the two men working within the shop, building the silent tension between them and thickening the air.

The older man, with his tanned skin contrasted against his short, peppered hair and a dirty white work shirt, was frowning so much the wrinkles of his face were tugged downward. His bushy brows were furrowed over narrow eyes, and the dark brown irises within glanced across the stuffy room at the second man. Despite his short stature, he more than commanded his presence in the room thanks to his wide shoulders.

The younger man was also tan-skinned, but he was tall and thickly built. The hair on his head was black and shaggy, while dark hair ran down his muscular arms and peeked from the top of his own dusty work shirt tucked under a pair of overalls. His youthful face was lightly weathered from spending his teenage years in the shop; but, while he did appear disgruntled, his dark eyes held much less contempt than the man at his back.

“How was your visit with Ms. Stephanie last night?” The older man, at last, broke the weighted silence.

The younger man paused his work as he tightened his grip on his wrench. “It was fine.”

“Y’all datin’ yet?”

Hudson scowled, thankful his face was turned away. “No.”

Timothy straightened his short posture, pressing his hands on the panel of the tractor between them. “What do you mean, ‘no?’ She invited you to–”

“No, Paw,” Hudson shot over his shoulder. “I told you–I ain’t interested in her like that. ‘Sides, she’s real sweet on Adrien–”

“So, you’ve lost another one.” His voice was cool, yet acidic.

Hudson shut his eyes and attempted to redirect his mounting anger in a deep breath.

The silence returned, and the two continued their work. Timothy was still clanking around in the tractor’s chassis, while Hudson remained near the motor to check for loose nuts.

“I'm startin' to wonder if it's the clutch goin’ out.” The older man scratched his chin. His eyes darted to his son when there was no response. “Hudson!”

The younger mechanic jumped and straightened up. “Oh,” he blurted, looked at the wrench in his hand, and returned his gaze to the tractor motor. “The struts?”

“The clutch! Pay attention, son; your head’s in the clouds today!”

He grunted and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Paw.”

“Henry can’t get any work done without his tractor, so we need to get it fixed!”

“Yes, sir–here, lemme check it.”

The two men switched places, the older supervising the younger to ensure he was performing his duties properly. Sure enough, Hudson went straight to the gear box to inspect the inner workings.

Unfortunately, despite his son’s accurate work,Timothy’s frown only lengthened as he stood idly by. “What about Lillith? You two’ve always been close. She’d make a fine wife.”

The wrench nearly slipped from Hudson’s hand as he turned to face his father. “Paw, you know I don’t see her that way.”

“Then maybe you ought’a start!” He snapped.

Hudson froze, his expression a mixture of outrage and shock.

The older man thrust out his hands. “Don’t look at me like that! I don’t know how you’re expectin’ to continue on our legacy if you don’t quit dilly-dallyin’ an’ get married!”

The younger man averted his eyes. “Paw, maybe I’m just not–”

“I’m not gettin’ any younger, you know–and neither are you!” He interrupted. “One of these days this shop is gonna be yours, and how are you gonna pass it on if you ain’t got kids to pass it on to??”

“It’ll get passed on to someone else in town, just like how Grandpa took it over from the Romano’s–”

“Who else in this town would take it over? Everybody else’s kids are following their parents’ trades.”

“I don’t know; but I’ll figure somethin’ out by then!”

“‘By then,’” Timothy repeated mockingly. “So, you’ll pass on your problem to somebody else’s family?“

Hudson scooted closer to his father. “Is it so hard for you to think I wouldn’t follow exactly in your footsteps? That I wouldn’t check off all the boxes you think I oughta check?“ He shook his head as if perplexed, “I am not you!“

Timothy’s initial surprise from Hudson’s outburst had faded into a caustic sneer. “Boy, is that abundantly clear.“

The son winced, his eyes piercing into the floor.

“I guess I’d better accept that our line will end with you!!”

The wrench clattered on the floor. “Is that really all I am to you?“ The young man stepped forward, seething. “Just a–a person to fill a hole??”

Timothy did not speak as a mixture of outrage and regret smouldered on his face.

Hudson grimaced and walked out of the shop.

–

“And, this is why in Romans…” 

William’s practice sermon was cut short as a figure stepped into the open doorway of the chapel. He set down his Bible onto the podium, recognizing the tall, bulky silhouette. “Hudson.”

The man in question said nothing as he stepped inside and started up the aisle. He passed the rows of wooden pews neatly lined within the small chapel’s white-paneled walls and thin stained glass windows. His form hunched further the closer he got to William until he slowed to a stop at the front pew.

William frowned, noticing Hudson’s haggard expression. He also quietly slipped out from behind the podium and gestured to the pew beside them.

Hudson slipped onto the wooden bench, hot tears already stinging his eyes long before William had begun to speak.

“Another disagreement?” He asked gently.

“My life is a disagreement,” the man muttered caustically.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Paw would.”

William frowned and leaned on his thighs to match Hudson’s slouched back. “You know, despite everything he says, he cares about you. Ah,” he held up one of his hands when Hudson’s head darted in his direction to retaliate. “Just listen to me for a moment.”

He grimaced and drooped back forward.

“You know as well as I do your father has become very shop-oriented these days. He lives and breathes that shop, and he’s always concerned about its future. So, at times, he may see you as a part of that shop too.”

“A part that needs replacin’,” he scowled.

“A part that he wants to hone and protect.”

Hudson’s dark eyes slowly slid to William’s pale blue.

“He wants to make sure you are all set to continue his work; whether that’s training you in all he knows, or making sure you have a future in place.”

“But his future ain’t gonna happen,” Hudson scowled. “He wants me to ‘hurry up and get married’–but to who??” He huffed in annoyance. “The girls in this town are great an’ all, but… I don’t see any of ‘em as romantic partners. An’ most of ‘em already have their eyes on someone else anyway–or they’re too young to be courtin’ a lug like me…”

William remained still as Hudson worked through his thoughts.

“Is there somethin’ wrong with me?” He turned his head toward the older man ever so slightly, tears again stinging the corners of his eyes.

“Absolutely not,” William asserted.

“Then why can’t I…” A tear fell from his eye and he opted to leave the sentence unfinished as he wilted in his seat.

“If I may attempt to stand in your father’s shoes,” the preacher continued carefully, “I think his biggest concern is not you, or your actions, as much as it is his sense of control.”

The mechanic’s eyes lost their focus.

“Timothy prides himself on being able to fix anything that comes in the shop. He has full control over his tools and his work. But, he does not have control over you–and that’s a struggle for him as much as it is for you. So, while I will admit he could use so much more patience and kindness in this matter,” William set his hand on Hudson’s knee, “I do believe all of this is him trying to make sure you are okay.”

Hudson rolled his head backward against the pew. “‘Cept he doe’n’t have any patience or kindness–none whatsoever!” He huffed in distress. “He just–he can’t understand that I’m diff’rent than he is! He can’t understand how I can look at somethin’ another way! And he’s never understood it!” He gnashed his teeth. “Gosh, William–if this is really how he’s tryin’ to help me, he’s doin’ the complete opposite!”

William watched Hudson’s expression scrunch and turn away.

“He makes me feel useless.” His words moaned into the empty chapel.

The preacher allowed the silence to return before continuing. “I’m sorry, Hudson.”

“Just ‘cause I don’t wanna court nobody here… just ‘cause I don’t have a way to start a family…”

“You never know what will happen,” he tried.

“There ain’t no one left!” Hudson darted his head back to face him, tears again running down his cheeks.

William bit his lip. With each generation, Westfall’s inhabitants were slowly dwindling. Children were not being born in numbers they used to, leaving a shallow pool of young men and women to choose from. And there was an even greater chance this generation would bear even fewer children.

Hudson sighed, heavily wiping his face in his hand. “I’m sorry,” he admitted through his fingers.

“Don’t be; I know this is very hard on you.”

“I’d like to think things’ll work out. I keep prayin’ every day that they do. But Paw… he’s never gonna be happy.” He let his broad hands fall to his lap. “Not if it i’n’t how he wants it.”

“Then, what you need to focus on is how to make you happy,” he pointed a finger at Hudson’s chest. “You can’t control what other people will think, but you can control what you think.”

Hudson’s eyes were still focused on where William’s finger had pointed.

“I want you to try to look for peace where you are.”

“That’s not gonna be easy when there’s not peace in the shop,” he frowned.

“That will be the biggest struggle; yes,” William returned his hand to Hudson’s leg. “But you can find peace knowing you are doing everything the best you can.”

The mechanic was beginning to tremble again. “But, am I?”

“What do you mean?”

He squashed his lips into a frown and shook his head. “Do you think I should just... marry Lillith??“

William blinked and tried to stifle his smile. “I’d certainly ask her first.“

Hudson’s face turned to him, and his expression hesitant.

William’s smile warmed and he patted his leg. “Hudson, I would only do that if you want to. Don’t let someone else push you into something you don’t feel is right.”

The young man huffed a sigh and leaned over his knees. “My momma would’ve understood.”

Another pang tugged at William Bauer’s heart. It had been a little over ten years since Josephine Rowlett died from complications in childbirth. It ripped a gaping hole in the Rowlett family and was only the beginning of the great divide between father and son. Josephine had always acted as their bridge; without her, Timothy no longer knew how to cope with a son who was so much like her.

“She would have,” he admitted softly. “And I hope–and I will pray– that one day, your father will too.”

The chapel again fell into silence as Hudson wrestled with his thoughts and William sat by his side. It had not been the first meeting to discuss Hudson’s feelings of inadequacy under Timothy’s watch, and he knew it would not be the last. 

William could only hope that his words were true: one day, the great divide would be mended.

-----

Part 2 of Worthless/Useless is now Hudson's struggle with marriage expectations. In as much as Westfall does not have arranged marriage, the marriage pool is so small at this point, it ironically almost ends up that way. Anyone eligible has probably already had their eyes on someone else as they've grown up, and Hudson just hasn't been looking at anyone else that way. I understand because I was the same way 😅

Unfortunately this frustrates Timothy who can't relate/understand why Hudson doesn't. William was a close friend of Timothy (before Josie's death shuttered him away from everyone) so he also understands Tim's mindset, but he can absolutely see how this frustrates Hudson. It's very much a mess, just like Gemini and her family. Also, these shorts take place when both Hudson and Gemini are 21 years old.

But, spoiler alert, although you may already guess, things finally begin to mend between Hudson and Timothy in the main story - not just because Hudson finally finds a girlfriend, but also because certain circumstances (and people) get Timothy really thinking about everything and realizing how harsh he was. He, at least, is given a chance to make things right :)

The sandstone walls of the two-story home almost seemed to glow in the afternoon light, soaking in the rays of the bending sun before the shadows of the neighboring homes could creep in. The air outside of the home was peaceful–save for the occasional puff of smoke in the front garden. The young woman crouching in the grass continually plucked dandelions from the ground, only to catch them on fire with a smouldering gaze.

Inside the home, a woman in a purple patterned dress and a golden sash across her chest sighed as she turned from the window. She walked across the foyer; a tall room that spanned both stories and allowed the second floor to look out at the front door below. On the ground, surrounded by off-white tile, was a wide woven rug in a variety of blues and greens.

“We have to go through with this, Rhas,” she stepped up to a man in a dark blue tunic with her head bowed. 

“I know, Soleil,” Rhas’ voice was low. His arms were tucked stiffly against his sides and his hands clasped together at the golden cloth tied at his waist.

“There are only so many young men left whose families would bother to accept her, and the Sanborns are willing.” Soleil’s fingers reached up to her shoulder to brush through her long brown hair. Her short, curled bangs, on the other hand, were stark white upon her forehead–the tell-tale mark of an Aravasti. “They even have a younger son who could be a great match for Polara when she comes of age.”

“I understand, but…” the tall man sighed through the rest of his statement. He set a hand on his forehead between strands of white hair that covered the crown of his head. The rest of his hair was short and dark. “I just fear the same thing will happen again.” 

“Yes; I would hate to lose the Sanborn’s trust.” The woman’s eyes returned to his. “But this is a risk we must take; one we will have to continue to take until she finally realizes–”

The front door creaked open, causing both to fall silent and guarded as they watched a figure step in from the clouded light outside.

The older woman was dressed in a dull gray dress topped with a red shawl. She adjusted her glasses as the door shut behind her. “Talking about my granddaughter, I see?” She offered almost sarcastically.

“Antonia,” Soleil blinked. She and Rhas glanced at each other before Rhas stepped forward and Soleil awkwardly turned away. 

“What makes you think that?” the man tried.

Antonia cocked an eyebrow. “I met Gemini on the way in. She said you had sent her outside so you could talk in private. I filled in the gaps.”

Rhas sighed. “We’ve made another match for her.”

“So soon? You know she will decline.”

“Mother,” Rhas bit his lip, “Gemini is already well past the age of marriage. We’ve allowed her all the time we could–but now, her time is up. She must realize it’s time to accept a match!“

Antonia shook her head. “She’s not going to.”

Soleil locked eyes with her mother-in-law, only to exhale and redirect her gaze to the hallway.

Rhas held out his hands, tugging the sleeves of his tunic. “So, you expect us to give up? To leave Gemini to her own... whims,” he searched for the word, “and remain unmarried?”

“She is far from the first Aravasti woman to push marriage aside,” Antonia’s white curls contrasted the deep tan of her skin, and they brushed across her forehead as she rolled her head. “While it is indeed customary, the matchmaking process is not a requirement.”

“But, it is a way to ensure our daughter will be taken care of outside of our home!” Soleil, at last, returned to the conversation as she stepped in behind Rhas’ shoulder. “We are doing this to help her!”

“And you believe if isn’t matched now, she will never have another chance?” Antonia raised an eyebrow.

“If she isn’t matched now, there will not be any young men left!” Soleil tried again. “We can’t exactly barter when we have an Igne to marry off.”

Antonia narrowed her eyes. “You speak as though your daughter is nothing more than an unwanted trinket.”

The woman stiffened as her husband’s eyes bulged in shock. “We simply do not wish to keep her somewhere she clearly does not want to be,” she clarified with a hint of contempt in her voice.

“I do wonder why she feels that way.” Antonia, on the other hand, did little to hide her sarcasm.

Soleil was noticeably distressed as she deflected her gaze to her husband. 

He again took another step forward to shield her. “Mother, we are Gemini’s parents, and we will decide who and when she marries. Every Aravasti should be matched at the age of twenty–no matter their power, and we’ve given Gemini a full year beyond to accept this!“ Rhas huffed out half a laugh as he shrugged his shoulders. “I agree with Soleil–by the time Gemini decides she’s ready, where are we supposed to find a single man her age?”

“You never know where travel may bring her to–”

“So, if she were in your care, you would allow her to continue to bend and break our customs?“ Soleil heatedly interrupted the older woman. “You would allow her to forgo marriage? You would allow her to end her line??”

Antonia threw up her hands and snapped, “Why would she wish to continue a line she is constantly told is worthless??”

Silence smothered the air from the foyer. It lingered far longer than any of the three wished it to, but no one knew how to break through the heaviness and continue.

The clicking of a doorknob upstairs broke the standoff.

“Grandmama, is that you?” The lithe form of a teenage girl appeared on the landing that overlooked the foyer. Her light brown hair was long, reaching to the middle of her back. Her long bangs were white as she idly tucked one side behind her ear.

The older woman looked up, but she was eclipsed by her much taller son when he turned around.

“Polara, could you please go back into your room? We’re discussing important family matters,” he nodded.

Polara’s face fell. “But... I was going to play chess with Mama Antonia.” She attempted to bend her neck to see over her father’s shoulder, but when she met his stern eyes, she bowed out and returned to her room. The doorknob again closed with a click.

“Believe me,” Antonia began once Rhas turned back around. “I am grateful daily you did not have to grow up with the stigma of being an Igne,“ her voice was soft, and yet piercing. “However, I was hopeful you would understand what your daughter is going through because of the power she was born with, considering your mother was born the same way,” she raised her green eyes to meet her son’s. “Clearly, living under your wife’s influence has left you unable to.”

Soleil heatedly dropped her eyes to the floor. Rhas remained muted and still.

“Neither of you can’t seem to realize: the reason your daughter is bending and breaking customs is because she sees no point in following them. The second her power was revealed to be Igne, everything changed for her. It doesn’t matter what she does–she is still treated with contempt!“

“Thank you, Mother,” Rhas growled and corralled his wife with his arm.

Antonia took a step closer when the two tried to bypass her to get to the door. “And I hope you realize she is torn between desperately wishing to make you proud of her and knowing that she never can!“

“Thank you, Mother!” He repeated louder, stiffening as he loomed over the much shorter woman.

Antonia’s mouth closed in a frown, but she did not move or look away.

Instead, Rhas and Soleil exited the house, leaving Antonia Inova alone on the woven rug in the foyer.

– 

“Gemini,” Rhas called to the young woman at the edge of the sandstone house. “It’s time to go.”

Gemini turned toward her parents, holding a dandelion in her hand. She was dressed in a black tunic over tan pants and a blue scarf tied at her waist. Her head was crowned with white hair, while shoulder-length brown hair spilled out from beneath it.

She blew the dandelion seeds toward her parents–only for them to spontaneously combust into a flurry of embers.

Soleil darted forward and grabbed Gemini by the hand, crushing the dandelion’s stem in the process. “Stop doing that.” Her words were stern and bitter.

Gemini remained largely blank-faced as her mother released her and started down the path to the street. She eyed her father through her blue-rimmed glasses as he waved her on.

“I told you to dress nicely; is that the best you could do?” Soleil called without turning around.

“Does it matter?” Gemini huffed as she followed behind them. “What are we even doing, anyway?”

The question was never answered as the three continued down the street in silence. They turned corners, walked across a foot bridge, and started down a hill to approach the village square.

Gemini’s footing began to slow. “Wait a minute,” she muttered, noticing another family standing beside the great stone fountain. “No–no, this is not another matchmaking–”

“Gemini,“ her father was quick to take her by the shoulders. His tall form bent toward her as his voice was low enough so that only she could hear. “Please, just give him a chance. I know you don’t want to do this, but you are running out of time and options.”

“But, I don’t–”

“I know you don’t–but just give him a chance!“ He gave her shoulders a squeeze.

The young woman was still frowning in discomfort as her father released her and returned to his wife. Soleil’s expression was piercing when Gemini met her gaze, and her frown grew even more pronounced.

“Ah, the Inova family!” A jovial voice distracted all three to the moment they had walked into.

Rhas put on a smile and reached out his hand toward the stocky man before him. “Orion,” he said as they greeted each other with a brief handshake. “It is good to see you and your family.”

“Hello, Soleil,” Orion Sanborn’s wife nodded with a light curtsy. 

“Marilynn; good to see you,” Soleil’s painted smile was wide. “Don’t tell me this is Ares!”

Ares was a tall, ruddy young man with red hair. Only a small streak behind his left ear proved his Aravasti heritage. His white shirt was neatly tucked into dark gray pants, and he stood almost too perfectly straight and still. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Inova,” he said politely.

“He’s grown like a weed!” Soleil laughed with a hand on the young man’s shoulder, “Are you sure he isn’t a Terra?”

“I’m a Nox, ma’am,” Ares shrugged.

The adults laughed pettily.

Gemini winced.

Orion smiled at his son before turning to the young woman in black. “And here is Miss Gemini! It’s good to see you again!”

Gemini did not fake a smile like the rest of the group. She simply stared at Orion without saying a word.

The man gave a nervous laugh. “A woman of few words, eh? Ares is not much of a talker, either. But here,” he put a hand on each of their backs and pushed them closer together, “you two should get to know each other!” With that, the man turned and continued conversation with the other parents.

“Yeah, I can definitely get to know you in the three minutes I’ll get to decide if I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Gemini muttered under her breath as she crossed her arms.

“Don’t sound too excited to be here,” Ares responded under his breath, eyeing his parents as they scooted aside.

Gemini cocked an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Not particularly, but who am I to disobey my parents,” Ares said matter-of-factly. “If they feel we will be a good couple, I’d have to think we would be.”

Gemini cocked her head. “Really,“ she offered more as a comment than a question.

“Of course! And, listen,” Ares set his hands on his hips as he glanced aside, “I know I’ve not been the best person around; over the years, my brothers and I... well, we weren’t all that nice.”

Gemini blinked. “Yeah.”

“For that, I do apologize. And, I’d like to think we can move past all that and make this work,” he held out his hand and laid it upon her still-crossed arm. “I will do my best to be a good husband and give you whatever you need.”

She looked at his hand almost suspiciously. “What do you think I need?”

“What any other wife would need,” he said, letting his arm fall when it was clear Gemini was not taking it. “I’ll care for you and provide for you while you take care of the house. You can tend a garden, and I can bring home dinner and help you cook…”

Gemini nodded as she followed his blandly spoken words. When he finally stopped talking, her green eyes locked onto his. “And if we have kids?”

Ares faltered. “You... you want kids?”

“I don’t know. I’m just asking.”

“I mean... I had just assumed…”

“Assumed what?” Gemini was now the one encroaching into his space. “Isn’t the point of this process to have kids so that your line of power lives on after you?”

The ruddy young man shook his head and lowered his posture. “Okay, Gemini; let’s be real. Yes, you’ve got strong Nox blood, and I’m full-blooded, which is why our parents matched us together. If we had kids, they’d most likely be Nox as well. But, despite it all, you could still have an Igne baby,” he chewed the words, “and would you really want to bring another Igne into the world? I mean, you’d just be setting it up for failure.”

The truth, at last, was spoken. The feeling of utter disappointment–and ever-growing rage–left Gemini’s expression falling into hollow darkness.

She jumped when she felt Orion’s hand bump against her back.

“Well! I do believe it’s time, is it not?” He said, glancing between the two members of the potential couple.

“Oh, yes, sir,” Ares straightened up and reached into his back pocket. 

Members of the village who had entered the square during their discussion watched in rapt attention as the matchmaking proposal began.

All four parents followed the movement of the ring from Ares’ pocket as he brought it forward between his fingers. He began to crouch, and his knee just barely touched the cobblestone pavement.

“Gemini Inova, will you–”

“No.”

The square turned deathly still. Even the wind appeared to die out when Gemini spoke her singular word.

Ares blinked in confusion while Marilynn and Orion glanced at each other in shock.

Rhas almost nervously turned to his daughter. “Gemini…” he hissed under his breath.

Soleil was much less discreet. “I’m sorry,” she held up one of her hands as her voice trembled with anger. “What did you just say?”

Gemini’s blank expression broke as the diamond-shaped power mark glowed hot upon her chest. “I said no!!” She shouted, heat and embers immediately swirling around her feet. “Is this loud enough for you??” She shot a glance toward her mother with eyes glowing white from her wildly pulsing power.

“Gemini Inova,” she spat caustically, “you have disobeyed this family for the last–”

The Igne shrieked a cry into the air, and the fire billowed higher.

Ares scrambled back to his feet and threw up a dark, wisping shield to protect his parents from Gemini’s ever-growing heat. The ring clattered across the stone street as every passer-by scattered out of sight.

Rhas had done the same, but his wife disappeared into a whirlwind before he could grab her arm.

All the while, the glowing streaks of power that pulsed down Gemini’s bare arms seemed to drip with flame as her fire flared and roared around her. “I will not be set up in some stupid ritualistic barter just so you can wash your hands of me!!” Tears sizzled on her cheeks as they dropped from her eyes. “And I refuse to be pawned off to someone who doesn’t care anything about me!!”

Orion and Marilynn peaked around their son’s dark power, eyes wide and mouths agape.

Ares shook his head slowly in dismissal.

Rhas shut his eyes and prepared for what was to come.

Soleil’s eyes pierced through Gemini’s fire, but her daughter would not yield.

In one last brilliant swirl of flame, Gemini was gone.

–

Antonia and Polara glanced up from the sitting room when the front door opened. Soleil’s steps were heavy as she trod across the rug of the foyer and disappeared into the hallway. The door was still swinging on its hinges when Rhas’ hand stopped it and stepped inside. He gave one look to his mother before blankly turning away and following his wife.

Antonia sighed and took her next move on her chess board.

Polara bit her lip. “I guess it really was that bad,” she said softly.

“You doubted the way your sister came in smelling of fire?“ Her grandmother eyed her.

“She... kinda does that a lot these days.”

Antonia hummed and watched Polara take her bishop.

Soleil returned, dragging a large faded green trunk behind her. She released it, allowing it to clatter loudly on the woven rug in the foyer.

Polara leapt at the sound, almost knocking over the chess board. 

Antonia’s eyes slowly rose from the trunk to Soleil’s smouldering expression.

“Take her.” She growled. “Get her out of my house.”

Antonia stood as Polara cowered in fear. “What?”

Soleil turned on her heels and nearly ran into her husband as he stepped into the foyer.

“Rhas–what–”

“You are Gemini’s guardian now.” Rhas said softly. “You may take her to your home this evening.”

“Rhas,” Antonia pleaded with a hand outstretched, but her son shook his head and turned away.

Polara curled her legs beneath her. “They... they can’t do that,” she whispered. “Can they?”

The elder Igne shut her eyes and exhaled a deep breath.

“Grandmama, they can’t do that,“ the young woman slipped from the cushion she had been sitting on and tugged at Antonia’s dress. “They can’t send Gemini away!“

“My Lara,“ Antonia set her hand on Polara’s light brown hair. “Please don’t ever let them take away the love you have for your sister.”

Polara huffed a half-sob, though she froze when her grandmother crouched closer to her ear. 

“I will make sure we have many times to play chess together at my home–so you can visit her.”

At last, the teenager nodded and returned to meet her grandmother’s eyes.

Antonia then stepped away from the unfinished chess game, around the green crate, and up the stairs to alert Gemini of their departure.

-----

I started writing this (and the companion piece "Useless" that centers around Hudson) about 2 years ago; and it really made me realize just how similar Hudson and Gemini were in regards to marriage expectations. It's no wonder the two found such comfort in each other 😅 I then promptly forgot I had written these until I was looking for a different older file and here they were.

I don't really get a lot of opportunities to show Aravast in Westfall since the only pieces would be in flashbacks, aside from Gemini discussing their culture. This also got to be the first time I ever wrote Gemini's parents. They are largely disappointed when Gemini turns out to be an Igne, and that only grows when she continues to buck every other "norm" in Aravast. Her dad simpathizes the most, but her mom overpowers this - especially when their next daughter becomes a Zephyr like she is. Thankfully, her grandmother understands everything, and while Gemini has already spent much of her time there, this marks the beginning of the 2ish years she's fully under her care. 

I would kinda like to put this somewhere in Westfall, but I don't want the whole thing to be flashbacks and dreams... and it has a 'part 2' with Hudson and I'm not sure how to frame them both in that context... so they will live here for now :D

Nellie found herself back at Silas’s compound the following afternoon. Arch excused himself right away to go rest, leaving the others to pester her and Calix for the gritty details. Calix was more than happy to tell everyone about the snallygaster and the praise he received from the Regere. Nellie took it as a chance to sneak off to the stables.

Hodge was snoozing on his cloven feet. The sunlight from his slotted window caught his dapples causing golden shimmers on his haunches. He started shifting and bobbing his head, his nostrils flaring.

Morgan leaned up against the door, keeping his distance to not disturb Hodge further.

“So, how was it really?”

“He used me as bait,” Nellie said coolly.

Morgan looked unsurprised and shrugged. “I may’ve told him about Ash…. Or, my mother did. Or Amias…. Someone did.”

“What’s Ash have to do with anything,” Nellie asked defensively.

“You can’t think having a pet cryptid is normal,” Morgan said. His hazel eyes darted to Hodge. “Penny’s odd too.”

It never occurred to her that she was still the odd one. She could not wield fire or create gollums. She had not spent her childhood learning to swing a sword or make arrows. She assumed everyone had run-ins with creatures, and that some of them had nontraditional pets even if only for a few days.

She paled. “Did you tell him about Cecily,” she asked urgently. “Does he know Ira has a gryphon?”

“I’d be shocked if he didn’t,” Morgan said. “His highness may’ve been some random twenty-something to you, but for all of us familiar with the Realm we’ve been aware of the small details of his life.”

Hodge let loose an irate bray that nearly had Nellie jump out of her skin.

Brody ran by Morgan, skidding to a halt on the loose straw. His dark eyes were wide and he was panting to catch his breath.

“There you are,” he said. He gulped at the air. “S-sorry, Hodge. Nellie, you’ve got to get back to the house.”

Nellie tore off after Brody with Morgan on her heels. The patio at the top of the hill was crowded with people. It looked like all the kids were outside, and Nellie could make out the short, stout figure of Mrs. Adams standing before them with her cane glittering in the summer light. She was facing down a man that Nellie recognized almost immediately as Uncle Winston.

“Uncle Winston,” Nellie called out, quickening her pace. She collided into him, squeezing him tightly. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“You know this man, Miss Herle,” Mrs. Adams asked stiffly.

“She’s my niece, as previously stated” Uncle Winston said, putting a protective hand on Nellie’s shoulder.

Silas hurried from the glass door onto the patio with Lilac hovering by his shoulder. The excited light dimmed in her eyes when they spotted Nellie, and boredom slowly crept onto her face as Silas motioned for calm.

“Mr. Herle, I presume," Silas said in his soothing, rich voice. “I take it Nathalie gave you the address.” He gestured towards the door. “Should we go inside?”

“That’ll be quite all right,” Uncle Winston said. “I’ll be taking Perenelle home now.”

“What? No,” Nellie protested, ducking out from his grip. “I don’t want to leave.”

The kids were all leaning forward in anticipation. The excitement returned to Lilac’s eyes. Fin and Brody whispered to each other.

“Mrs. Adams,” Silas muttered at her.

“Inside, children,” Mrs. Adams ordered.

Ava gave Nellie an encouraging smile as she filed inside behind Arden.

“I’m staying,” Morgan said defiantly, crossing his arms.

The look on Uncle Winston’s face clearly indicated that he remembered Morgan and that he was not thrilled to see him again. She had seen him make the same face whenever her cousin Lillian talked about boys (prior to the one she was now engaged to).

“Master Morgan–,” Silas pleaded.

“I’m staying.” Morgan dropped on one of the plush, sky blue patio chairs.

Nellie strode over and took the seat next to him. She crossed her legs and folded her arms, hoping it came across as defiant and not plain bratty.

“Very well; it matters absolutely not if you’re here or not,” Uncle Winston said. “Perenelle is going home. End of discussion.”

She tensed at the authority in Uncle Winston’s tone. She was ready to scramble up to her room and pack.

“I don’t even know what this is–?”

“What this is all about, Mr. Javernick, is that my little sister called me in a state saying that… that man has caused her physical harm,” Uncle Winston said icily. He glared down at Silas being easily a head and a half taller. “You assured her, no, promised her that him appearing here would be of no concern. You swore to her that Perenelle going off with him was in her very best interest, and that she couldn’t be any safer. Is all that correct?”

Morgan had also lost his bravado as Uncle Winston went on. He slouched in his chair like trying to fuse with it.

“Nellie,” Silas said, turning towards her, “where you hurt?”

“The snallygaster nicked me, but Mrs. Monroe healed–.”

“Mr. Javernick,” Uncle Winston interrupted, fuming, “you dare tell me you were not informed? Are you trying to pin blame on a mere girl?”

“Uncle Winston! That’s unfair,” Nellie said. “I just got here.”

“Do telephones not exist?”

There would be no talking to Uncle Winston. He was in full lawyer mode. Nellie thought Silas was handling it very well; he was only a fraction paler than usual.

The unmistakable pressure of the Regere approaching caused her to climb to her feet. He appeared in the glass door before opening it and joining them.

He had changed clothes. He wore a relaxed, European suit without a tie and blazer. The beechwood loafers he held were so polished they hurt Nellie’s eyes to look at them.

“I’ll be off,” the Regere said. He set his pale blue eyes on Uncle Winston. “Mr. Herle, please, walk with me.”

“I beg your pardon, young man,” Uncle Winston said, taken aback.

“Oh, that’s right,” the Regere said with a small, fake laugh. “We haven’t met before, have we? No, my wife acted as proxy during the guardianship hearings.”

The color drained from Uncle Winston. “Y-you’re–!” He stiffened, swallowing whatever unpleasent thing it was he wished to say. “You are not at all how I expected.”

“Younger, by the ‘young man’ comment,” the Regere said. He gestured off the patio. “Would you?”

“I will not,” Uncle Winston said. “We English can beat around it all day, but let me just cut to it and say that my brother made his wishes perfectly clear, and it was foolish of Nathalie to bend those wishes.”

“I’m technically American despite my slight accent, so,” the Regere said, “let me be blunt; Perenelle isn’t going anywhere.”

Uncle Winston went from being too pale to too red. His fists shook as he bared his teeth in fury. It was the angriest Nellie had ever seen him, and it made her shake in her seat.

“Let me clarify a bit,” the Regere said, glancing at a shiny watch on his wrist. “Our niece,” he stressed, “needs to learn how to handle herself. I’ll trust Silas to clear things up from there.” He headed off the porch and towards the driveway. “Morgan, behave.”

Silas pinched his eyes with a heavy sigh as the Regere disappeared around the corner. He took a few breaths, straighted, and smiled warmly at Uncle Winston.

“Mr. Herle, a cup of tea,” Silas offered. “We can conference Nathalie in my office.”

Uncle Winston eyed Silas but ultimately relented and allowed himself to be ushered indoors. Nellie saw Silas pull Calix and Arch from the kids scattering to hide they had attempted eavesdropping; the four of them vanishing down the windowed hall towards Silas’s office.

Fin, Lilac, and Ava slipped out the doors onto the patio.

“Was that tall, dark, and handsome man your uncle,” Lilac asked, looking wistfully over her shoulder at the house. “Does he have a son?”

“Are you really leaving,” Ava asked anxiously.

“She’s not,” Morgan said.

“You seem sure,” Fin said doubtfully.

“My father said she wasn’t leaving, so she’s not,” Morgan said coolly. He looked Fin up and down. “Ah, right, you’re the not-so-secret love child. You don’t have a firm grasp on a father’s word.”

Fin exploded at Morgan, lunging and grabbing him by his shirt. Nellie and Ava jumped away with their eyes wide at the sudden movement. Lilac tried to intervene, was knocked away, and let loose a long, shrill hiss.

Nellie coughed as the patio was engulfed with green smoke. Her eyes stung, watering to the point she could not see. She stumbled, fell over a chair, and crawled. She felt grass beneath her fingers and rolled down the gentle slope, away from the cloud of smoke. She breathed in the fresh air and dabbed at her streaming eyes.

Ava staggered over with her hands over her nose and mouth. Her eyes were bloodshot behind her glasses.

“Wuh-what was that,” Nellie croaked.

“Lilac.” Ava removed her glasses to wipe her eyes. “She set off a grenade.”

“Gre-grenade?”

“What on this earth is happening out here,” Mrs. Adams’s voice came angrily from among the dispersing cloud. “Miss Maebry, to my office at once!”

The cloud had now dissipated enough to see Lilac, Fin, and Morgan. Morgan had tripped on a chair and was draped over it, coughing with his eyes watering. Fin was scrambling up to defend Lilac who was nonchalantly following Mrs. Adams back inside on floaty steps.

“Morgan,” Nellie called, storming over as he and Fin eyeballed each other. “Knock it off!”

“Me? He attacked me,” Morgan said sulkily. “Yell at him!”

“You were rude,” Nellie said, crossing her arms.

Morgan was taken aback. “How?”

Fin pat Nellie on the shoulder, giving her a weak smile. “It’s okay, Nell,” he said. He glared at Morgan. “I’m going to go beg for Mrs. Adams to take it easy on Lilac.” He drew himself up, exhaling a long sigh. “Sorry I went off on you, little guy. Catch you girls later.”

Morgan had an expression like he drank vinegar. He glared daggers at Fin’s retreating form, his jaw too tight to spit anything at him.

Nellie decided to let him stew and headed off to the gardens with Ava. She filled her in on the snallygaster, but danced around the final conversation with the Regere and the tease that he knew where her father was. She was told not to let it be known her mother was a dragon, and saying her uncle used her as bait somehow seemed connected.

There was now the nagging worry in the back of her mind regarding the Regere’s interest in Penny, and assumedly in Ira too.

“Just how powerful is this Regere if he was unfazed by Arch’s magic,” Ava asked. “I thought my soul would leave my body the first time I saw one of his gollums.”

“Same,” Nellie said. She dug at a stubborn weed with her fingers to loose the roots. “The light cage was impressive, but Arch didn’t react to it like it was something super strong or difficult.” She rocked back as the weed gave. “Can you feel magic?”

“I don’t know…. What’s it feel like,” Ava asked.

“Like… static, I guess,” Nellie said. She rubbed her arm. “My godfather is a mage, and with him I could feel the hairs on my arm starting to stand. With Arch and Itzel, it’s just this little tingle on the back of my neck.”

“What about me,” Ava asked, excitedly. Her grin fell after an awkward pause. “Oh… you don’t feel anything, do you?”

“Your magic is different,” Nellie said quickly. “It’s better if you think about it. You can help with the jackalopes, and Hodge doesn’t mind you. I bet Ash would like you too. I can’t wait for you to meet him!”

Ava smiled weakly. She plucked white petals off of what Nellie recognized from boxed tea as chamomile.

“The problem with my magic is that it won't always be strong,” Ava murmured. “It’s inherited, not spontaneous. And like with other inherited traits, it can die out completely.” She took a breath and smiled. “Sorry. What about this Regere guy? What’s he feel like?”

“Like I stuck my finger in a socket and have a heavy, weighted blanket over my head,” Nellie said dully.

Ava mouthed ‘wow’ and her eyes sparkled behind her glasses at the idea of someone with that type of magic having been near. She snapped out of her awe and her eyes widened.

“And he’s your uncle,” Ava breathed.

Nellie shrugged it off as embarrassment crept over her. She had more or less told Ava about how the woman everyone called her mom was really her paternal aunt, and that she had only found out after starting school. She had no choice but to tell her about Morgan, and that led into being related to the leader of the Auctorita. She swore Ava to secrecy, making her promise not tell Olivia, Emma, and Sophia. It was too messy to start telling everyone else, and still made her head spin.

She was about to ask Ava if they did anything fun last night, but was distracted by Silas trudging over the slope towards them. He looked at ease with his thick arms swaying jauntily.

“Your uncle has decided to stay the night, and will make his decision afterwards,” Silas announced. He winked. “You’ll be staying the summer, Nellie. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure,” Nellie asked, feeling a fluttering of hope. “Uncle Winston can be quite stubborn.”

“I’m sure,” Silas said. “I believe a lot of his worries come from not understanding all this craziness with the Realm. He’ll feel better seeing you hanging out with other kids.”

It was hard to hope a night, essentially just a dinner, was all that stood in the way of her summer at the compound when dinners rarely went smoothly. Even on their best behavior, someone was bound to say something that would cause Uncle Winston to whisk her back to dull, dreary Shelbyville.

There was not much time before dinner, so Silas allowed Nellie and Ava to skip the evening chores. It was a kind gesture, but Nellie wished she could have hidden in the stables with Hodge until Mrs. Adams rung the bell. She found herself sitting cross-legged on her sleigh bed with Ava, both silent.

Nellie leapt up as the faint echo of the gong rang outside her door.

The dining room did not have the splendor it did when the Regere joined them. It was back to the usual plain plate and simple drinkware. There were two large platters piled with roasted chicken, and three bowls of seasoned root vegetables. A small green salad was set at every place.

“Miss Herle, I’m placing your uncle at the head,” Mrs. Adams said. “Why not sit next to him.”

“No need, Mrs. Adams,” Silas said, taking the seat at the right hand. “I’ll entertain Mr. Herle. Nellie can sit wherever she wants. They all can.”

Mrs. Adams narrowed her eyes at this. She gave a dismissive sniff and began her tour around the table to triple check everything was exact.

Silas motioned for Uncle Winston to sit next to him as the head of the table upon his entering the dining room. Lilac skipped off to take the seat across from Silas to Uncle Winston’s left.

Nellie found herself next to Silas with Ava to her other side. Fin and Arden took the seats across from them, both eager to be farther from Mrs. Adams’s grasp. Morgan frowned at Nellie, eyeing the full seats around her. He slunk to the end to sit at Mrs’s Adams’s right, sinking into a darker mood when Brody took the seat next to him and Calix and Arch filled the seats across, leaving Itzel to sit next to Fin.

“You have quite the array, Mr. Javernick,” Uncle Winston said, peering down the table.

“It happens,” Silas said. “The Auctorita is global now. The kids come from all over.” He nodded towards Itzel. “Brazil.” He gestured at Calix. “Greece. Of course, Nellie and Ava are just visiting. They’re not recruits.”

Uncle Winston’s blue eyes took each of the children in turn, lingering on Arden. His mouth tightened as he frowned into his salad.

“Recruitment starts quite young, does it? That boy can’t be any older than Nellie.”

“A year older, but, I agree, Arden is young,” Silas said. He dropped his voice and Nellie found herself leaning nearer. “His mother is an old friend. I offered to take him when he started acting out.” Silas cleared his throat, straightening. “I don’t exactly have a minimum age for residency. It’s whenever the kid needs to come.”

Nellie looked across at Arden but he was too busy sneakily tossing his cherry tomatoes into Fin’s half-eaten salad to have been eavesdropping. She never asked Arden why he was at Silas’s compound, assuming he was a recruit like the others. That sounded like the case, except it was more interesting that his parents just shipping him off.

She had not asked any of them why they were there, how they got there. She felt like she was playing catch up, and had not gotten very far in learning about her friends; if they could be called that.

Silas continued to politely answer whatever remarks Uncle Winston spoke, no matter if they were a proper question or an attempt at a jab. Her uncle was pausing between his comments to process the new information, and his hands relaxed a degree after each pause despite his mouth still twisted into a grimace.

Lilac interjected by asking Uncle Winston if he had a son, and then several follow-ups about Geoffrey. Uncle Winston slowly started to smile as the conversation went on, but kept his skeptical eye on them.

“Seems to be going good,” Ava whispered as Mrs. Adams circled the table with a cart, piling the salad bowls on it.

Fire erupted over Itzel’s plate in time with an aggravated shriek from her.

Uncle Winston fell over backwards in his hurry to stand and get away from the flames. Fin was yelling at Itzel in Spanish. Morgan was yelling at Fin that Itzel did not speak Spanish. Brody was helping Mrs. Adams up after knocking her and the cart over in his haste to the kitchen for water.

Arch grabbed Mrs. Adams’s cane and blew. The fire went out, and the plates, silverware, drinkware, and bits of food scattered down the table and around the room.

“Miss de la Torre! Mr. Cabrera!” Mrs. Adams shook lettuce off her arms. “My office, at once!”

“Come now, Mrs. Adams,” Silas said. “This was surely just a language–.”

“See to our guest,” Mrs. Adams said icily.

“No need,” Uncle Wiston said, dragging himself up.

Nellie cringed. The majority of dinner covered him leaving him to look like someone after a food fight scene from a movie. His light eyes blazed as hot as Itzel’s fire had.

“Perenelle, show me to a bathroom,” Uncle Winston demanded.

She felt everyone watching her as she slunk from the dining room. Her chest tightened as they moved further and further away from the dining room with no one coming after them to help argue her position. It was not fair she would have to leave because of something that happened between Itzel and Fin.

She sniffed heartily, stopping to wipe her eyes. She moved to hug Uncle Winston when he put his hand on her shoulder, recoiling as her hands found smashed carrots and dampness.

“Listen to me, sweetpea,” Uncle Winston said, stooping to her eyelevel. “I want you to think very hard before you answer me; why do you want to stay?”

“Because…,” she trailed off.

“Your friend goes to your school,” Uncle Winston said. “You’ll see her in a few weeks. These other kids… you only just met them. I can take you home. To Nathalie. To that dog of yours.”

“Would… I have to pretend none of this happened,” Nellie asked, her lip shaking.

Uncle Winston’s expression softened. He went to hug her, stopped himself, and scowled at his wet, gross appearance. He settled for patting her wavy, auburn hair.

“Nellie, lovey, you can stay,” he said quietly. He sighed. “This whole… strangeness is part of you. I won’t force you to ignore it.” He looked away. “Granddad and Nana always encouraged Rhys to ignore it…. It’d be great if he got over himself and paid a visit before they drop dead.”

Her mind jumped back to Maryland, to her conversation with the Regere. She grabbed Uncle Winston’s arm, shaking it as she rocked back and forth on her toes.

“Uncle Winston,” she said, “I might be able to find him!” She laughed at Uncle Winston's perturbed look. “I have a lead on Rhys.”

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This has been sitting as a draft for a day, so everything I was going to put in the comment is gone, lol.