Chapter Text
i.
After nearly four hundred years of life, General Sarah Alder had been quite certain she’d long surpassed the ability to be surprised. From their kindness to their cruelty, humans were terribly, and sometimes terrifyingly, predictable. Sarah had witnessed the full spectrum of their beliefs and behaviors and had dabbled in each of the shades herself, and so nothing ever truly felt new anymore. Even that which managed to, didn’t surprise her. She could guess how things would play out, how people would act and react.
There hadn’t been a compliment, request, or insult hurled her way that had managed to catch her off guard in nearly two hundred years. No action shocked her. No delight or devastation was a revelation. Everything existed in the most cyclical fashion. Birth, life, death, rebirth. All was recycled and reused. All was repeated over and over throughout the enduring echoes of time, just molded into different bodies and vocalized by different voices. It occasionally felt tragic, but mostly, Sarah took comfort in it. What she could predict, she could account for. What she knew, she could prepare for. What she understood, she could nurture or combat. And Sarah knew plenty. She understood more than any one person perhaps had any right to. It was tiresome but reassuring and, most of all, useful.
That isn’t to say Sarah Alder had lived beyond the ebb and flow of emotion, herself. She certainly hadn’t. She was, after all, still human. The longest living human in written record, yes, but human, nonetheless. In fact, she was a well of emotion. She could be moved, delighted, frightened, amused; and each emotion, shared among the seven women intimately tied to her mind, body, and life force, was welcome. Even the ugly, she welcomed. It was part of being alive after all, and Sarah had no interest in being anything else; at least, not yet.
Still, it all felt familiar. Lovely, but familiar. Horrifying, but familiar. Nothing surprised her. Nothing shocked. Nothing took her breath away.
“Take me.”
What little air Sarah could pull into her rapidly decaying lungs rushed out and away from her in a split second. Desperate, she gaped after it but found only the searing brand of awe. It rippled out like hot water from the young, delicate fingers gripping her shoulder. It pooled in her chest, stinging and alive, and Sarah found she was so thoroughly, genuinely shocked that she couldn’t utter a single word. She could only stare and tremble and grip the ground as if it could somehow make her breathe again.
Yes, after nearly 400 years of life, General Sarah Alder had been quite certain she’d long surpassed the ability to be surprised. Nothing surprised her. Nothing shocked. Nothing took her breath away.
And then Private Tally Craven, a barely blossomed bud of a witch with too much raw talent and too little sense, knelt at Sarah’s side and offered her life.
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Even amid battle, as dust flew and voices shouted like thunder, all Sarah could hear was the sound of theirsong. The Biddies. Together, they sang as if their lives depended on it. Certainly, they did. Certainly, Sarah’s did also. Seed 91, the Seed of Sacrifice, wound through her body like twine, pulling, tugging, binding the various strands of herself into new bonds. Its heady sound softened at the delicate press of Seed 76, the Seed of Bonding, and together, they took her memories, her vitality, her wants and needs and wonders, and in the melody’s ancient embrace, Sarah found Tally Craven’s sunlit, dew-dipped energy waiting for her.
Her vibrant youth rushed through Sarah like a river bursting through a dam. No temperance. No control. But undeniably powerful. And Sarah’s elderly body revitalized in seconds. The color spilled into her skin again and raced through her hair. The thin blur coating her vision cleared.
Tally’s life force was underripe and raw, the youngest she’d ever taken, and instantly, Sarah knew it as she sent her scourge flying forward and watched its searing tip split a grown man down the middle like a knife through warm butter. The energy coursing her body was positively untamed, fed by Tally’s fear and confusion and the immensity of the rapidly dawning realization of what she had just sacrificed for a woman she barely knew and hardly trusted.
As soon as the man’s singed remains hit the dirt, Sarah returned to Tally and found her in shades of gray and white. Tally trembled under the sudden, crushing weight of Sarah’s years, and Sarah could offer nothing to lighten the load but touch. Her newly young again hands grasped Tally’s now gnarled knuckles. Her voice dripped with the rush of the unexpected and the breathlessness of the gratitude swelling in her chest.
“Thank you, daughter.” Sarah could think of few times she had meant the words more.
“It’s my honor,” Tally whispered back, barely able to hold herself up.
Sarah cupped Tally’s wrinkled cheeks and knew she was in no condition to stay. Her Sight had been their greatest asset since the start of the mission, but now it was compromised. Tally was too unstable, too raw and exposed. And if Sarah was being honest, she was in no state to remain either. Tally’s unchecked emotions were like beating drums in her head warring with the pang of loss echoing in every part of her and along the webbed connections tying her to the Biddies. The loss of Sage to the Witch Plague. Sarah felt it keenly. They all did. Paired with the manic explosion of Tally Craven’s immense spirit setting the bond on fire, Sarah knew it was too much. Her judgment was compromised. They needed to leave this place.
She guarded her team zealously as they raced for the waiting bat and climbed aboard. Once they were settled, Sarah filed in and wrapped an arm around Tally. She couldn’t parse out Tally’s individual thoughts even when she tried. There was too much chaos in her mind, too much terror. It was maddening. But she could feel, clearly, Tally’s need for connection and comfort. So, Sarah held her tightly and hoped it would soothe her until they could return to base and catch their breath.
“Raelle!”
Sarah had hardly even noticed the events unfolding in and outside the bat, too focused on Tally, too caught up in the raging whirlwind of grief and fear and adrenaline ripping through her system. As Abigail fought to help Raelle, Sarah felt the change in her body like the live end of a scourge burning its way into her heart. A wave of heat crashed through her chest as Tally’s fear and desire both erupted beyond anything Sarah could have expected. The fear of losing her sisters. The desire to save them, and if she couldn’t save them, then to stay and die with them. Sarah felt it so strongly that her own feet itched to carry her off the bat and out into the field again.
She gripped Tally with every ounce of strength she could muster, because in that moment, even in a 70-year-old body, Tally Craven was a force. Every inch of her pressed forward toward her dying sisters as the bat lifted into the air and carried them away. That kind of loyalty and love was what Sarah cherished most among witches. It was the bond that she had long ago built the Army on and that which kept it strong and enduring, and Sarah was so moved by the immensity of it that she felt tears stinging in her eyes.
In the heat of battle, Tally Craven willingly gave her life to Sarah, and if she hadn’t, Tally Craven would have willingly given her life to lay down with her sisters in that field, and there wasn’t a single doubt about it in Sarah’s mind. There was only awe and gratitude, respect and grief.
Sarah glanced around at her Biddies and saw them each dabbing their wet eyes and cheeks. Sensing her gaze, they each looked at her, and she nodded in turn. Her fingers curled into Tally’s side and pulled her closer. She forced a stillness in her own mind, a quiet that drained her to maintain, but once calm, she sent waves of reassurance through the bond. The wild animal that was Tally’s emotional state could hardly be tamed, but Sarah would try. It was the very least she could do, not only for Tally’s gifts and sacrifices, but for the blessing of an experience she’d long since given up on. The experience of shock and awe, of pure, unadulterated wonder beyond anything Sarah had felt in centuries.
ii.
Tally Craven was not a one-hit wonder. Rather, surprises seemed to be her specialty; at least, where Sarah was concerned, they were.
The tittering of the Biddies along the link as they observed Tally Craven gleefully squeeze her newly young again breasts was almost as amusing as the show itself. Sarah swallowed the laugh in her throat and thinned her lips, but silently, she sent a wave of gratitude along the link. She knew the Biddies could feel her unease. It was never simple to be separated from such an intimate bond, and then to have it replaced so quickly. They took as much of her burden as they were able, but none could take her physical discomfort. That, she had to bear alone. Exhaustion and grief weighed on her joints and bones, and emotionally, she was still reeling from the loss of Sage, the sacrifice of Tally, the loss of Tally, and the addition of Jeanine. She hadn’t been this tired in ages.
When the room began to shake, Sarah rolled her eyes. Another cadet having sex when they should be studying, mostly likely. “The earth is restless tonight,” she said as she finally made her presence known.
“Hi!” Tally spun with dizzying eagerness; a smile so bright it made the room feel lighter. It leveled as the Biddies each filed in behind Sarah. She nodded to them, hands finding their way behind her back as if she suddenly realized she should be standing at attention. “Hello.”
“Everything where it should be?” Sarah couldn’t help herself, and it took all she had not to snort out a chuckle when the Biddies held nothing back in the link. They laughed like hyenas, even as their bodies remained still and stoic. Biddy training was a wonder.
“Yes,” Tally said, and the Biddies erupted all over again. “Thank you.”
“I hope I’m not disturbing.”
“No! No, not at all.”
“I just wanted to see how you’re feeling.” It was genuine. Sarah did want to see how Tally was feeling, knowing the loss she felt herself. Tally Craven was owed her care, and Sarah would give it willingly. She knew how intense the unbinding process could be and the price it often demanded of one’s mind and body for some time after.
“I’m okay.” Tally smiled, cheeks ripening to just the slightest red.
Sarah’s chest bloomed with affection. The girl was sweet, darling even, if Sarah dared to think it. She did, and the Biddies agreed with a soft, lovely hum along the link.
“I…”
Sarah waited a moment, but when Tally shifted on her feet and said nothing more, she prompted her to continue. She had a feeling she knew what was coming based on Tally’s body language. “What is it?”
Tally’s smile only slightly wavered. “This is gonna sound strange,” she said, “and definitely inappropriate.”
Goddess, I wish we had snacks, Peregrine’s voice whispered along the Biddy link like a feather tickling Sarah’s mind. This is getting good.
As the Biddies chuckled, Sarah swallowed her amusement and ordered them quiet. Peregrine was one of her favorites, because she completely lacked a filter; well, she didn’t lack a filter so much as she chose, most of the time, to bypass it altogether. Sarah found it refreshing most days, but in this moment, she knew she needed to keep her composure.
“Say what’s on your mind,” she told Tally and watched the girl’s bright smile fall as a desperate sort of need broke through her voice.
“I’ve missed you so, so much,” Tally admitted. Her body repeated the words just as ardently. She rocked and keened, leaned toward Sarah as if being physically reeled in. She just barely seemed to hold herself in place. “Like I’ve never missed anyone in my life, and it’s only been, like, a day?”
It was exactly what Sarah had expected, but while she wasn’t surprised, she was still affected. The earnestness in Tally’s cracking voice and the tears glossing her eyes flooded Sarah with a rich, lovely fondness. Sarah tempered the feeling and the smile it threatened to form as Tally whispered, “Sorry.”
She stepped closer to Tally and watched the proximity seem to somehow both soothe and irritate her. Tally’s breath stalled, and Sarah watched her swallow as if trying to pull down air that didn’t exist. “This will pass,” she promised her. “What you’ve been through is very destabilizing.”
“Mm. Mhm.” Tally nodded and rocked toward Sarah again. Tears clouded her eyes.
“You may even feel like you’ve lost a child,” Sarah said, “or a mother.” She left it at that, hoping the range of loss between the two experiences would be understood without words. A sister. A mentor. A friend. A lover. The Biddy bond was complex and undeniably intimate. One never truly knew the effects it would have on any given witch. “The bond we shared will endure forever. In some small way.” But it would get easier, Sarah knew. It always had prior. It took time and care, but it eventually dulled enough to press it into memory the way loss so often was. Sarah would come to this comfort faster as she could share its burden with the Biddies. Tally would suffer longer, but Sarah was confident she could manage.
Affection bloomed once more in Sarah’s chest as Tally’s sweet smile returned. “I’m okay with that,” Tally said, and Sarah very much believed her.
“I’m afraid you have no choice at this point.”
Tally laughed, her body finally at genuine ease, and Sarah allowed herself a small smile at the sight.
“Well, I will let you rest,” she said and took a step back. The whimper the step pulled from Tally’s lips was barely audible, but Sarah caught it. It caused a warm stir of energy in her gut. “I’m glad to know you are well.”
“Oh okay.” Tally’s expression fell into a barely contained show of despair. “Right. Of course.”
“Craven, I rarely repeat myself, as I’m sure you know,” Sarah said and delighted in the return of Tally’s grin, “but I want to say, once more, how grateful I am to you for your sacrifice. Truly.”
“Truly,” the Biddies all repeated in unison. Their voices floated forward in perfect harmony, and Tally’s smile brightened further.
“I…” Once again, she hesitated but needed no further prompting. “I know I’m probably pushing my luck here given that I’ve already said something highly inappropriate to you, but since I’m a little deliriously exhausted right now and since you’re apparently so grateful, I figure why not go for it.”
Oh Goddess, help us, Peregrine said with a snort. Shit’s about to get real.
Sarah had to cover her laugh with a strong clearing of her throat. The sound seemed to spook Tally from her sudden courage, but when Sarah nodded for her to go ahead, she regained it in a flash. Then she lunged.
Tally skipped right into Sarah’s personal bubble as if that was something people simply did rather than something people had died for. Granted, those people came with threats and weapons. Tally Craven had just brought herself: a living, breathing ball of nerves and energy. Still, it was the principle of the matter.
Tally was only a few inches away, staring wide-eyed into Sarah’s face, and Sarah was half-convinced she was about to be kissed and half- she was about to be asked for something ridiculous like a private jacuzzi for Tally’s unit. But as Tally looked at Sarah with unabashed desire and hope, what happened instead was…
“Could I visit you sometimes? Please?” A murmur of sound escaped Tally’s throat the moment the words cleared her lips. It was needy, a hum of something desperate and hungry. “I mean, not as a General and her soldier, but as, you know, um, just S-Sarah and Tally. Friends.”
And just like that, twice in less than forty-eight hours after more than three hundred years of nothing, General Sarah Alder was absolutely fucking floored.
That is not what I expected, Peregrine whispered, and Sarah could not have agreed more.
For a solid twenty seconds, Sarah struggled to make her mouth work. Her jaw quivered as her knotted tongue refused to form words, and all she could do was stare and blink as Tally’s hopeful face pleaded for her to agree. Sarah couldn’t possibly. It was inappropriate and out of the question. No.
“I suppose that would be acceptable,” she said only to instantly receive a domino effect of gasps down the Biddy link. Sarah quickly straightened her spine. “Though as I said, Craven, the way you feel now, this need to be near me, it will pass. With time, you will have little want of me, so I’m afraid there is no sense in indulging these sensations.”
“No, it’s, um, it’s not that.” Tally’s cheeks burned a brilliant red. “I mean, it is, I guess in part that, but it’s mostly because I’d just really like to get to know you better. In a way I can’t from the history books.” She gnawed at her lip for a moment then continued. “I think I made a lot of assumptions about you before. I’m sure that happens a lot, because you’re you and everything, but when we linked, I realized I’d assumed wrongly about a lot of things. We weren’t connected for long, but it was long enough for me to see, or I guess hear and feel things that made me realize I should have learned who you were from you instead of from the textbooks and gossip and snapshots of you through time.” Tally laughed at herself. “If any of that makes any sense at all.”
Sarah’s throat felt so tight, it was difficult to breathe. She wasn’t sure she could recall the last time someone had given her the benefit of the doubt or dared to change their view of her based on her own words and experiences. Once again, gratitude and awe spilled through Sarah’s chest, searing and soothing every inch, and once again, Tally Craven was the source.
Sarah’s heart hammered. The backs of her ears itched and burned the way they always had when she felt uncomfortable. Her voice cracked, a slight quaver she couldn’t control. “I will have Lark send you a copy of my schedule. You know how to request an appointment.” She forced a slow breath and nodded. “Right then. Goodnight, Craven.”
Sarah spun on her heel and, in seconds, was out of the infirmary and into the fresh air of the grounds she had called home every single day of all her many lives. It was chilly and crisp, and she couldn’t get enough of it. It was the only thing that could dissipate the heat still pooling in her chest.
I should not have done that, Sarah announced via the link. And how dare you all not intervene. You know my judgment was compromised by the unbinding.
We gasped, Sarah, Peregrine replied. You know what a gasp means. Don’t play.
Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose and grumbled. You are truly an insufferable witch, Peregrine.
I know.
She knows, the others said in unison and fell easily into step again.
Sarah marched them across campus with a bit more speed and fury than was necessary. But she decided, just this once, her meddling, or rather not meddling, Biddies deserved it.