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hovercraft79 · 4 years

Text

Hello

Chapters: 1

Word Count: 6, 021

Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: smoking, bitterness

Summary: It’s been fifteen years since Ada Cackle last set foot on Cackle’s Academy grounds. But while her destiny can be delayed, it won’t be denied. Alma has finally demanded that her prodigal daughter return and prepare to take up the mantle of leadership. Is Ada ready for everything that entails? Maybe. There’s one surprise, though, that she never saw coming.

Notes: This is a slightly revamped entry from last year’s Hackle Summer Trope Challenge. I’m including it because it’s actually the first part of this year’s challenge – the ‘school’s out’ trope will pick up after this installment.

My plan is to fill in some of the gaping holes in the canon storylines: when Ada met Hecate, Hecate becoming a teacher and deputy head (as well as coming to terms with her confinement) and finally, the time period where Ada and Agatha tried to co-head the school. Somewhere along the way, these two might even fall in love.

I’ve kept everything within canon (though I did keep the 13-year age difference between Ada and Hecate, there’s certainly room for Ada to be older than that). If you notice anything that I missed feel free to let me know. This is using the ‘First Time’ prompt from last year.

The title comes from Lionel Ritchie’s song of the same name.

Thanks to Sparky for finally whipping this wip into shape.

The sun disappeared behind a cloud just as the dark figure on a broomstick began her descent towards the ground. “Fitting,” she muttered under her breath. She touched down lightly in the middle of the courtyard, sliding off her broomstick and stretching the muscles of her lower back.

Staring up at the castle, she snapped her fingers and a lit cigarette appeared at once. She took a deep drag, blowing a dense cloud of smoke across the lawn. It all looked much the same as it did the last time she was here, nearly twenty years ago. It felt smaller, though, like an old dress that didn’t quite fit anymore. Another drag, another cloud of blue-gray smoke. Another time, she thought. She raked her fingers through her windblown hair – or tried to anyway. The tangled mess refused to cooperate.

“You’re hardly the picture of a proper headmistress, Ada.” Alma Cackle appeared in front of her daughter, waving the cigarette smoke away.

“Criticizing before you’ve even fully materialized? That’s quick, even for you.” Ada dropped her cigarette onto the grass and crushed it with her boot. “Good thing I’m not Headmistress, then.” She placed the back of her hand to her forehead. “Well met, Mother.”

“Welcome home, Ada. You’ve been gone too long. It’s time you started preparing for your birthright.” Alma transferred Ada’s belongings to her rooms. “I’ve cleared Mrs. Drill’s old room for you. It’s been empty since she left to spend more time with little Dimity.”

Ada nodded. She hadn’t fancied staying in the room she and Agatha had shared as children. Too many memories coupled with too much emptiness without her sister there. She’d barely tolerated the two years she’d spent in the room alone, after Agatha had been sent to Wormwood’s.

“Come along then.” She looked pointedly at Ada’s jeans and the faded Pretenders t-shirt under her leather jacket. “I’m sure you’ll want to change into something more appropriate.” Alma turned and walked towards the castle door.

Rolling her eyes, Ada nonetheless followed her mother into the castle. “I don’t reckon you’ll see me in traditional witching robes any time soon.”

Alma sighed but didn’t argue. “Have you spoken to your sister lately?”

“She sends her regards,” Ada said, suddenly very tired. They’d spoken, all right. Agatha’s angry words still scraped inside her skull. Favorite. Betrayal. Abandoned. Why didn’t Agatha understand that Ada didn’t have any more choice in this than she did? They were each forced to live out a destiny based on nothing more than which name came first on a birth scroll.

It’s not like she’d asked for this.

She’d spent nearly twenty years being anywhere but here. She’d left for Weirdsister’s the week after she’d finished her final term at Cackle’s. She’d stayed for summer terms, spent holidays with friends whenever she could and taken an entire year to broomstick across Europe – sometimes with Agatha, sometimes not. She’d taken her teaching credentials to Moonridge High School and then on to Amulet’s Academy. Now she was back. Home, she supposed. Her mother had left no room for argument. In a few years, Alma would retire, and Ada would be headmistress. It was time for Ada to assume her place. She’d start by teaching a few Potions classes, lifting the load from the insufferable Miss Gullet. Then, she would take over as Deputy Head Mistress, learning the ins and outs of running an academy. It all seemed rather bleak and planned out as far as she was concerned.

Ada studied the dining room. The banners had been replaced, but the food was just as bland and the chairs just as uncomfortable as they’d ever been. She’d forgotten how cold it was in the castle and already regretted giving up her leather jacket for a long-sleeved denim shirt.

“Do you have your lesson plans sorted yet?” Alma asked. “You’re taking over the first and second years, correct?”

“For now. I’ll be adding a level each term until a permanent Potions teacher can be hired. Everything is ready, Mother. I’ve taught Potions before, you know.”

“But you haven’t taught it here, Ada. I’ll not have my own daughter coddling the girls. Cackle’s has a long—”

“A long tradition of top marks in Potions, yes, Mother, I know.”

Alma was about to reply when Miss Gullet interrupted her.

“Don’t you fret, Mrs. C. I’ll keep an eye out for her.” Miss Gullet reached across and patted Ada’s hand. “After all, you couldn’t ask for a better mentor than yours truly.”

Gwen Bat, the Chanting teacher, threw her napkin down on her plate. “I rather think I could, Miss Gullet,” she snapped as she pushed away from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Cackle, I’ve lost my appetite.” She walked stiffly away, disappearing before she’d even gotten halfway to the door.

Blinking back and forth between Miss Gullet and her mother, Ada wondered what that was all about.

“Oh, never you mind that old witch.” Miss Gullet waved Gwen away. “She’s been in a mood ever since that dodgery old wizard did a runner on her. Can’t say I blame the bloke.”

Ada looked at her mother, but Alma just shook her head. Later, she supposed, she’d have to get the story later. For now, Ada would be content to get through dinner and retire to her rooms. A headache pricked just behind her left eyebrow, and she felt certain that a tumbler of Witch’s Brew would be just the trick for getting rid of it.

-----

For the third time, Ada ran her finger along the spine of each book on the library shelf. She couldn’t quite believe that Thornapple’s Advanced Potionry wasn’t there. Humming softly, Ada checked the adjoining shelves, just in case. She didn’t find it there, either. Hands on hips, she huffed her hair out of her eyes. Ada glanced around as if she didn’t already know she was standing in the restricted section of the library. Students weren’t allowed to check these books out. They weren’t even allowed in this section without explicit permission. A long-forgotten memory wriggled its way out of a dark corner of Ada’s brain.

It was the middle of the night and the library was much darker than Ada expected it to be. She cast a tiny light spell – about half a second too late. “MONA! Look out!” Ada pointed at the lamp on the table, but Mona had already knocked it with her elbow. Her heart pounded in her chest as the lamp tipped, wobbled, then settled back on its base. She’d scarcely relaxed when Agatha’s hissing made her jump again.

“Will you two be quiet! We’ll never hear the end of it if Mother catches us in here!” Agatha leaned over Mona until the she shrank back, huddling next to Ada. “And if I miss the dance at Weirdsister’s next week, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.” Agatha whipped around and continued sneaking through the library. “And put that light out!”

Ada and Mona exchanged worried glances and crept along behind her, fumbling their way into the restricted section. Agatha had bamboozled the young new librarian into revealing that the wards surrounding the restricted section only kept the books in; it didn’t keep the girls out.

“I still don’t see why this dance is sooooo bloody important,” Mona griped.

Once again, Agatha spun around and glared. “Because Georgie Wintercherry will be there, which means Judith Starling will be there. Which means I will be there. No silly rule that you have to be at least seventeen is going to keep me out of that dance. That toad isn’t getting her claws in him if I can help it. If you weren’t such a little girl, you’d know that.”

“Toads don’t have claws—”

“Shut UP, Mona!” Agatha hissed.

“Well they don’t! And I don’t know what you’re on about – you’re three months older than me. Ada’s older than you!”

“Don’t get me started on that bloody thirteen minutes.”

Ada shook her head, pulling herself back to the present, though she couldn’t keep her eyes from finding the volume they’d been after that night. They’d found it then, too, but hadn’t been powerful enough to make it work. Agatha hadn’t been able to sneak into the Weirdsister’s dance, and Judith had indeed gotten her claws into Georgie – their oldest girl would soon be entering Cackle’s. Looking back, Ada realized that night was probably when the seed for the plan to take their mother’s power had been planted in the garden of Agatha’s brain. Oh well, Ada thought, it doesn’t pay to travel down some old roads. Gathering up the rest of her books, she made her way to the circulation desk, reminding herself to smile at each student as she passed.

“Ada!” Miss Inkwell wriggled a pinky in the air. “I mean, Miss Cackle,” she said in her poshest voice. Ada rolled her eyes and dropped her books onto the library counter, thunking much louder than Ada intended. A dozen heads popped up, as curious students looked to see who was making all the noise.

“Sorry, girls!” Ada ducked her head and waved. “Carry on.” She turned to Miss Inkwell and grimaced.

“Don’t worry about it, Ada. You probably just woke half of them up.” She pulled Ada’s books towards her. “Gracious, you do have a bit of light reading planned.” Her eyes widened as she read the titles. “You must be planning to keep those girls on their toes!”

“It’s really for me – just trying to keep the old quill sharp.” Ada tapped her temple with a long red fingernail. “Um… I wasn’t able to find quite everything I was looking for. The card catalog shows that we should have a copy of Thornapple’s Advanced Potionry in the restricted section, but I can’t seem to find it. I can’t imagine that someone would check it out.

“Thornapple’s?” Her eyes widened when she heard the title. “Ada… that’s some advanced work, even for Fifth Years… surely, you aren’t…”

“Merlin’s beard, no! I’d rather live to a ripe old age. The truth is, it’s been a while since I’ve taught Potions; I’ve been teaching Spell Science for the past eight years. I need to brush up.”

“I see… best get cracking then.” Miss Inkwell summoned a well-worn box with a drawer, its walnut finish darkened by age. “Let me just check on that book for you.” She slid open the drawer, and expert fingers flipped through the cards. “Oh! Why yes, it is checked out, but it’s due back in on Tuesday. I’ll set it aside for you.” Smiling sympathetically up at Ada, she was just closing the drawer when a loud crack and puff of yellow smoke came from the far end of the library. “Let me just…” She held up a finger and transferred away.

Ada glanced back towards the sound but decided Miss Inkwell would have things well in hand. She pulled the drawer around to sneak a peek at the card. Maybe she would ask whoever had it if they were finished with it. She pulled out the card and read the name: H. Hardbroom, written in precise script. Ada thought she’d met everyone on staff, but apparently she hadn’t. A second puff of smoke wafted over the bookshelves. Sighing, Ada transferred into the thick of it.

-----

“Stop fussing with the collar, Ada,” Alma said without looking up from her paperwork.

“It itches.” Ada tugged again at the offending collar.

“You’re whinging like a petulant child.” Alma finally looked up, peering at her daughter over the top of her bifocals. “It’s better than that ridiculous leather jacket you insist on wearing.”

“Hmpf.” Ada pretended to check her list of preparations for the Yule Party. The jumper was warmer than her motorcycle jacket, but she’d never admit that to her mother. She’d already stopped wearing her concert t-shirts, mostly, bowing to her mother’s persistent insistence that they weren’t professional enough, even if they were hidden under her robes. She knew her mother wouldn’t be satisfied until Ada wore the same drab skirts and frumpy jumpers that she did. Never, Ada vowed to herself, no bulky jumpers – sleek power suits would be her signature outfit once she was Headmistress. “I’m going down to the kitchens. I want to go over the preparations for the Yule Dinner with Mrs. Coriander.” If she expected more than a grunt from her mother, Ada didn’t get it.

By the time she arrived in the kitchen, Ada was doubly glad for the jumper. No matter how many warming spells they cast, it just wasn’t possible to heat the entirety of the castle in winter. Corridors were simply left as they were.

Ada opened the doors to the hurly-burly of the kitchen and realized immediately that she was in the way. Pressing herself against the wall, she finally spotted Mrs. Coriander on the other side of the kitchen, going through an order of produce with a young woman Ada didn’t recognize. Holding her breath, Ada made her way across the kitchen, dodging floating pots of boiling soup, flying vegetables, and a near-miss with the backswing of a meat cleaver. She reached Mrs. Coriander just as the unfamiliar witch transferred away. “Bouncing bats, Edna! I had no idea it would be so… chaotic!”

Edna Coriander laughed a raspy, acid-washed laugh. “Just you wait, Miss Cackle. Now that the last of the produce is here, we can really get our skates on.” She passed off the basket of vegetables to a kitchen witch that scurried by. “What can I do for you?”

Ada picked up a sheet of paper that had been blown off the table by the passing witch: the receipt for the produce. Ada scanned the items, impressed at the variety of plants available at this time of year. The name at the bottom caught her eye, H. Hardbroom, written in the same neat script she remembered from the library. She turned to ask Mrs. Coriander about the young woman but was cut off by the squawking of three different time crows going off at once. Now was certainly not the time. With a jaunty wave to Mrs. Coriander and a shout of ‘good luck’ to the rest of the kitchen witches, Ada transferred out into the hallway. Breathing in the sudden quiet, she wrapped her jumper tighter around her chest and began the long trudge back to her mother’s office.

-----

“Have you finished with the expense reports yet, Ada? We need to pay this month’s bills before next month’s get here.”

“Almost, Mother, there’s one that doesn’t make any sense.” She levitated a notice to her mother’s desk. “It’s for a grocery delivery, but not to here, to Darkwood Cottage.”

Alma didn’t even glance at the paper; she just flicked her fingers and sent it floating back to Ada. “Just pay it.”

“Why would I pay it? Why would groceries be delivered to Darkwood?” Ada snatched the bill from the air. “I’ll speak to the grocers; I’m sure it’s a simple mista—”

“Pay it, Ada!” Alma barked. Forcing her voice back to calmness, she went on, “It isn’t a mistake.”

Ada may have spent the better part of the last twenty years away, but she remembered her mother well enough to recognize that this bill represented A Thing. And whatever it was, it was something that her mother didn’t want to get into. And that meant Ada had to ask. “What is this about, Mother? There’s something you don’t want to tell me.”

Alma took her glasses off, methodically cleaning and recleaning the lenses with a cloth she’d magicked up. Ada held her tongue, certain that any more pushing on her part would shut the entire topic down.

Finally, Alma put her glasses back on and looked up with the saddest, weariest eyes Ada ever remembered seeing in her mother’s face. “I guess you may as well know now; you’ll become the Sealkeeper once you take over as Headmistress.”

“Sealkeeper? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Ada felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle.

“No. You wouldn’t have, thank the heavens. It’s old magic. I think Hecate is the last witch requiring a Sealkeeper.” Alma gestured to the chairs in front of the fireplace and summoned her tea set. “Not quite ten years after you’d graduated, I think you were at Moonridge at the time…” Alma poured herself a cup of tea, thinking. “No matter,” she said at last. “You’d been gone a while, and we’d started a new term and were just getting to know our new girls. There was one… Och, Ada, she was a real firecracker, that one. Bright, lively, clever little thing. Still holds the record for the highest scores on her entrance exams. Her name was Joy – and if ever a girl was suited to her name, it was her. Joy Hardbroom.”

“Hardbroom? There’s a Hardbroom that sells us produce and checks out books from the restricted section of the library. You don’t mean that Hardbroom?” Alma nodded and sipped her tea. “Hang on then… aren’t the Hardbrooms also that old-fashioned family that keeps lobbying to bring back the boundary rules that separated us from the Ordinary world?”

“That’s the one. Remember that about them; it’s important.” She summoned a plate of biscuits and offered one to Ada. The Hardbrooms… old magic. Powerful. Unyielding in their adherence to the Code. They brought Joy up the same way – in a very strict, very structured household. But like I said, Joy was bright, curious, vivacious. I think coming to Cackle’s was the first time she’d ever had any sort of freedom at all.”

Ada frowned. This already sounded like a story with a bad ending. “What happened? When Joy got all this freedom…something had to have happened.”

“To this day I don’t know where she got the idea, but during her second year she decided to sneak down to the village one weekend.” Alma vanished her teacup and hoisted herself to her feet. After a moment staring into the flames, she started pacing in front of the fireplace. “Seems the girl spent weeks in the library working out how to get past the wards. Too clever for her own good it turned out. That first trip to the village was like getting dosed with Faerie dust. She went back again and again. Found an Ordinary girl with just enough magic that she could see through the Concealment spell.”

“How is that even possible? If she could see…” Ada joined her mother at the fireplace. “What happened? Did the girl expose Joy as a witch?”

Alma shook her head. “No. Rumors had been going around that Joy had been leaving the grounds, but nobody thought she was going to the village. At least not until Miss Willowbark found a poster in Joy’s room. It was for a music festival that had happened in the village.”

A chill settled in Ada’s chest, right behind her breastbone. Willowbark. She’d never met a person less suited to teaching than Imelda Willowbark. She hated children. She was a stickler for the Code – for all rules, really. “She got caught, didn’t she?”

“Breaking one of our highest laws. Imelda wanted her expelled. Immediately. I… well… after what happened with your sister… I wanted to give her another chance. Imelda went to the Great Witch to try and have the girl expelled. Fortunately, the Great Witch sided with me. Joy wouldn’t be expelled, but she would be confined to the Academy for the remainder of her schooling.” Alma shrugged. “It seemed reasonable. She could go with her parents on holidays, but during term she would be confined to the school grounds.”

“But something else happened, didn’t it?” Ada did a few quick calculations. “She’s got to be twenty-three… twenty-four? Why does she get groceries from Cackle’s?”

“I need to show you something. Come along.” Alma held her hand out. Ada stared at it for a handful of seconds before grasping it.

The next thing she knew, they were standing at the edge of the forest on the south side of the castle. Before them stood a statue of a girl wearing a Cackle’s Academy uniform. “I don’t remember this being here.” Ada circled the statue, noting the detail. She ran a hand down the statue’s arm. It was exquisitely done. Too exquisitely. A knot began to form in the pit of her stomach.

“You wouldn’t.” Alma stepped up and brushed some dirt and leaves from the shoulders. “This is Indigo Moon, the friend Joy made in town. Her best friend.”

“How…” Ada snatched her hand off the girl’s arm. “How did this happen?”

“Loneliness. I don’t think anyone understood just how lonely Joy was. I know I didn’t. I should have, though. When her parents refused to pick her up on holidays, I should have seen about her, but she insisted she was fine. Turns out, she was miserable – isolated and lonely. Desperate for her friend.”

Ada brushed tears out of her eyes. She wasn’t one to break the Code, not after everything that had happened with Agatha, but surely they had to see that sometimes what a young witch needed was understanding. She turned back to Indigo Moon. “How did this happen, Mother?”

“Joy stole my Wishing Star. She couldn’t leave Cackle’s, so she brought her friend to her. Then she gave her magic so she could stay.” Alma shivered as a cold draft of air whistled through the trees. “Night’s falling. Let’s finish this up in my office.” She transferred them back.

“I don’t reckon I need to tell you what happens when you give magic to a non-magical person, do I?” Alma asked once she’d settled herself back in her chair.

Ada leaned forward, elbows to knees, cradling her head in her hands. “No.” Everyone knew what happened. Magic in the Ordinary drove them mad. And turned them to stone if they didn’t relinquish the magic. How many of Witchdom’s childhood stories involved an Ordinary getting their hands-on magic and the terrible consequences that followed? No one ever gave up their magic in the stories. “So what happened? Her confinement just became… permanent? Even though she was a child?”

“Eventually, yes, that’s the punishment she received. She would remain confined to the Academy grounds for as long as the girl remained stone.”

“But she was a child!” Ada threw her hands into the air. “This is just like Agatha! One mistake and your whole life gets taken away from you?”

“The Code is the Code for a reason, Ada!” Alma pointed towards the forest. “What about that little girl out there, Ada? Her life got taken away as well.”

“Don’t try to defend this, this, abomination of a decision that you imposed on a child!”

“That I imposed?” Alma laughed bitterly. “You’re suffering from bloody delusions of grandeur if you think a headmistress has that sort of authority. No, Ada, that punishment came from the Great Witch herself.”

“But you didn’t try and prevent it, did you, Mother?” Ada was shouting now. “She was a child, Mother, and you just let her life be ruined, exactly like you did Agatha.”

“Prevent it? No, Ada, I didn’t try to prevent it. I argued with every last breath I had for them to confine this brilliant little girl to Cackle’s instead of stripping her of her magic, erasing her memory and throwing her out to the Ordinaries.”

Ada sucked in a lungful of air so fast she choked.

“That’s right. They wanted to strip every drop of magic from her blood. Publicly. Turn her into an example for everyone. Her parents were perfectly happy to have her confined if it kept it all private. It worked. The Great Witch made me responsible for her. That’s why I’m Sealkeeper. It’s why you will be, too.” Alma slumped down in her chair. “As long as that girl is stone, Hecate remains confined to the grounds.”

“Hecate?”

“Her middle name. Joy changed her name after that day. She changed everything about herself. How she looked, how she acted, what she went by. I can’t even imagine the guilt that little girl felt – still feels. She caused the person she loved most in the world to cease to exist.”

Ada dropped into the chair across from her mother. An Ordinary life with freedom but no magic? Or a life with magic, but no freedom? Ada wasn’t sure they’d really done Joy, or Hecate, any favors. “And no one’s been able to reverse the spell?” She knew the answer before her mother shook her head. “So, what did you do with her?”

“Do? I did whatever I could for her. I gave her as much freedom as I could. I gave her free reign in the library so she could try to find a spell or potion to restore Indigo. I brought in a counselor once a week to help her deal with her guilt and shame.”

“Did it work?”

“For a time. It took a while, but eventually, thanks to one very persistent young witch, she made new friends. She had a new best friend, but it all fell apart when they graduated. I think that’s when it truly became real for Hecate, when she watched them all leave but she couldn’t.” Alma shrugged. “As for her future… I made sure there was no mention of any of this on her school record and arranged for correspondence courses. I offered to arrange for a tutor so she could get her teaching credentials in case she ever wanted to work as a teacher here. She never expressed any interest in it, and I don’t blame her. She moved to Darkwood Cottage and keeps to herself. We provide her needs and purchase her vegetables and potions ingredients. On rare occasions I’ve been able to persuade her to join us for the odd ritual or holiday.”

Ada leaned back in her chair. It was a lot to take in. “Am I her… jailor? Warden?”

“NO!” Alma snapped. “If it were up to me, she would have been free to leave years ago. Her original crime isn’t even a crime anymore. “But it isn’t up to me,” she sighed. “The Great Witch placed the wards herself, and only she or her successor can undo them. As long as Indigo Moon remains stone, Hecate is confined to Cackle’s. If Indigo is ever restored, you’ll be able to remove the ward. It doesn’t happen automatically.” Alma summoned a bottle of wine and two glasses. Ada accepted hers gratefully. “Truthfully, Ada, I don’t think she’d leave even if she could. I don’t think she’d leave Indigo behind.”

Ada downed her glass in a single gulp and immediately poured another. Some days, she really wished Agatha had been born first.

-----

“What do you mean, we’re out?” Ada stared at the empty cupboard. “How can we be out? I know we ordered more than enough nettles.” Mrs. Coriander wrung her hands for an answer. “What happened to the ones we had?”

“As best I can tell, the Spell Science Fourth Years were working on some sort of healing spell and accidentally summoned a plague of locusts. All I know is more bugs flew through my kitchen than I’ve ever seen in my life!”

Ada shook her head, struggling to keep her cool. “Where can we get more? The market?”

“Sorry, Miss, I tried them straight away. We cleaned them out with our first order. I tried the other markets, too.” Her hands twisted harder. “I’m so sorry, Miss Cackle… With everyone wanting nettle soup for the spring meal… We’ve got all the dairy and such for the more traditional part of the meal.”

At least there’s that, Ada thought, ruefully. The nettles were the main ingredient in the soup Cackle’s served for their Imbolc luncheon – the very same soup that Christobelle Cackle had served the first class of girls over a millennium ago. Back then, it had simply been her favorite soup, made from the first greens of spring and appropriate for feasts celebrating new beginnings, such as Imbolc and Selection Day. Now, time had rendered it an honored tradition, passed down through generations of Cackles and carried on by countless former students.

New beginnings, her mother had said, as had every headmistress of Cackle’s Academy that had preceded her. Ada wasn’t about to be the one that broke that tradition – or tell her mother that they couldn’t make the proper soup. Her nerves screamed for a cigarette.

Ada pushed the craving away, for now. “It isn’t your fault, Mrs. Coriander. You were hardly responsible for a plague of locusts.” She squeezed the cook’s arm. “Go on and get done what you can. I’ll try to come up with something.” Ada nodded, trying desperately to convey confidence she didn’t feel.

Ada strode down the corridor, her heart and feet both flying as she raced to the potion’s storeroom. She rifled through every shelf, adrenalin sparking like magic when she spotted a jar labelled ‘nettles,’ but it crashed just as quickly when she pulled the jar down and saw they were spiny-leafed nettles. Her temper started sparking along with her adrenalin. Miss Gullet caused this whole disaster, or allowed it, yet she was nowhere to be found when it was time to put things right. Trying to think clearly, Ada studied the jars and boxes, searching for anything that might work as a substitute, but there was nothing.

She slid down the wall, cradling her head in her hands. Why did she ever think she would be capable of being Headmistress. She felt something roll against her foot, a jar of dried flower petals. She turned the jar and read the label – Dog’s Mercury. The label was handwritten in small, neat script. Ada’s eyes narrowed – she recognized this handwriting. It was the same handwriting she’d been seeing on the grocery receipts. For produce. Hecate Hardbroom’s handwriting. It was a long shot, Ada knew that. But… She pushed herself to her feet and summoned her broom. She could be at Darkwood Cottage in less than an hour. “What do I have to lose?” she muttered to no one in particular as she mounted her broom.

-----

From the sky, Darkwood Cottage, tucked at the very edges of the Academy’s extensive grounds, looked warm and welcoming. Up close, Ada could see how worn and tired it had become. It was tidy, though. She could tell that it wasn’t being neglected. As she touched down, she felt the slight tingle of magic as she passed through the occupant’s wards. Glancing about, Ada was impressed by the neat rows of vegetables off to the side of the cottage. The front garden was a jumble of flowers and herbs, each one healthier and lusher than the last. Clearly, powerful magic had brought spring early to Darkwood Cottage. The desperate spark of hope glowed a bit brighter.

Ada leaned her broom against the house and knocked, straightening her clothes as she waited. Feeling unusually self-conscious, she wished she’d taken the time to change out of her dark jeans and Iron Maiden t-shirt. She’d been planning to change later, of course, but then the whole business with the nettles started and…

The door swung open, and Ada found herself face to face with a beanpole of a young woman. She looked down at Ada with eyebrows raised impossibly high – whether that was from surprise at finding Ada on her doorstep or the severe bun that sat atop her head, Ada couldn’t know.

Smiling as brightly as she could, Ada bowed deeply. “Well met, Miss Hardbroom. I do apologize for showing up unannounced.” Dark eyes traveled up and down Ada’s body, frowning, and once again Ada wished she’d taken the time to change. “Please forgive my appearance, it’s been a rather hectic day.” The young woman was still staring at her, and Ada couldn’t tell if it was confusion or distaste that was winning the battle for her expression. She held her hand out, hoping that would break the tension. “I’m Ada—”

“Cackle. Mrs. Cackle’s oldest daughter.” With a start, she raised her hand and returned the formal greeting. “Well met, Miss Cackle.” She straightened and opened the door wider, beckoning Ada inside. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

Ada dropped her hand and followed Hecate inside. She explained the problem with the nettles, but her eyes never stopped roaming the inside of the cottage. Shelves filled with potions ingredients lined the walls. Hundreds upon hundreds of bottles and jars sat neatly in rows, each labeled with that same precise script Ada remembered. It was better stocked than any potions lab Ada had ever seen. Finally, her situation explained, Ada couldn’t contain herself anymore. “This is incredible, Miss Hardbroom! I’ve never seen any lab as well turned out as what you’ve made here!”

Flushing with obvious pride, Hecate looked around the room herself. “It’s my life’s work, I suppose you could say.” Her shoulders sagged as her eyes dropped to the floor. “I assume you know… my circumstances.”

“Mother told me.”

“I’m sorry for the burden I’ve placed on you.” Hecate turned around and made her way into the pantry, returning a moment later with a pair of wicker baskets. “I know where to find what you need. There’s a grove that’s sheltered; plants usually sprout earlier in the season. I can transfer us there in a moment, if you’ll allow me?”

Ada nodded and held out her arm. The strength of Hecate’s magic surprised her. No wonder she’d been able to visit the Ordinaries and harness a Wishing Star. In no time, both baskets had been filled and the nettles magicked back to the kitchens.

“You’ve saved my skin, Miss Hardbroom,” Ada said as she helped Hecate clean the baskets and put them away. “I didn’t fancy having to tell Mother we couldn’t make the traditional soup.”

“I expect not,” Hecate said, drying her hands. “Your mother has been very kind to me, though, certainly kinder than I deserved.” She gestured to her kettle. “May I offer you some tea? Or do you need to get back for the banquet?”

“The banquet, I’m afraid.” A thought struck her. “I would be honored if you would join us, Miss Hardbroom. After all, we would hardly be having the banquet if it weren’t for you.” At least I wouldn’t, Ada thought to herself, Mother would have me cleaning out the kitchen bins for sure.

“Thank you for the invitation, Miss Cackle, but—”

“That’s a yes, then? Excellent!” Ada’s cheeky grin was contagious, and soon the younger woman was agreeing to go.

“You don’t have to fuss over me, you know,” Hecate said as Ada was mounting her broom. “Just because I’m bound to the Academy doesn’t mean that you’re obligated to me in any way. I’m content here, and my work keeps me busy.”

Ada thought a moment. Hecate’s work, no doubt, consisted almost entirely of trying to find a potion that would release Indigo Moon. She’d seen the bookshelves filled with journals, and a quick peek at an open one on the kitchen table had Ada itching to read more. “That’s something we have in common then, isn’t it?” Ada asked, leaning on her broom. “We’re both tied to this place, in one way or another. I hope that we might be friends.”

Hecate blinked in surprise – then blinked again, trying to keep tears at bay. “That would be… I don’t... If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Ada said, holding a hand out as she mounted her broom. “I’ll see you at the banquet, then? It’s at the usual time.”

Hecate reached out and shook Ada’s hand. “At the banquet. I’ll be there early, in case you need an extra pair of hands.”

“Well met, Hecate Hardbroom. I’ll see you then.” Ada pushed off and made her way back to the castle, certain that she’d just met someone extraordinary.

#Hackle Summer Trope Challenge 2019 #but it's part 1 of HST 2020 #Hackle #pre-relationship #season 3 fix-it #TWW17

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themadlostgirl · 6 years

Text

Not Dead Yet (Part 56)

*A wild Baelfire appears*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: none

When Peter said someone had entered Neverland I believed that it was one of Wendy’s brothers come with the shadow. I was partially right. The shadow had returned but there was no boy with it. Apparently he had been dropped into the sea just as Wendy had. At that revelation we rushed to the beach but there was no sign of someone in the water.

“What do we do? Can you sense him?” I asked Peter.

“It’s muddled, he’s in the east. That’s all I can figure.” Peter sighed, “If it is the boy I need…”

“We’ll get him,” I assured him, “He’s in the east. The Jolly Roger is anchored in that region. Perhaps they got ahold of him before the mermaids.”

“Would certainly be lucky for us. Take a few boys and the row boat. Get to the Jolly Roger and see if the pirates have him.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Go to my Thinking Tree. I can sense anything when the entire island is before me. Now be quick.” Peter teleported away and I turned to the boys that had followed. Devin, Felix and Curly.

“You heard him, grab the boat and get it in the water. We’re losing time!” I shouted at them. Devin and Curly ran to pull the boat into the shallows.

“This should be fun. Confronting pirates in the dead of night. We never do anything together, Felix.” I grinned and he knocked me in the side of his head with his club. “That seemed uncalled for.”

“Cry about it,” he muttered, “let’s go.”

We got into the boat and Devin and Curly started rowing towards the Jolly Roger. It took a while but we got to the ship and crawled up the side.

“Hello Hook,” I beamed at his annoyed face. “Having a nice night?”

“I was before you and your imps stormed my ship.”

“Oh hush, we’ll be out of your greasy hair soon. We’re looking for a boy that was dropped near here. Seen him?” I asked.

“Then I'm afraid I'll have to send you away disappointed. As you can see, we're only men here.” he gestured to the crew.

“Then you won't mind if we search your ship.” Felix said.

“Be my guest.” Hook granted and the boys fanned out. I climbed up into the rigging in case they had him in the crow’s nest. It was empty save for a few nesting seagulls. The others returned with the same news. The boy wasn’t on the ship.

“Told you lass. No one here but me crew.”

“So it seems.” I nodded and the boys climbed back into the boat. “Just know that if you are lying then I will find out and we both know what I can do.”

“You mean what your demon bed mate can do?” he had the gall to smirk.

“Oh captain,” I swiped his legs out from under him and pressed my dagger to his throat, “Still underestimating me after all this time. I thought we were past all that. You may be a pirate but I’m a Lost Girl with much more blood on my hands. You think yours will stand out amongst all the different shades of red?”

“Get off my ship!” he growled pushing his hook harder into my flesh.

“Fine,” I stood up, “Have a good night, Hook.” I jumped over the side of the ship back into the row boat. Disappointed we rowed back to shore. Peter met us on the beach and confirmed that the boy was still out in the sea somewhere but he couldn’t pinpoint where.

“This cannot be happening,” I groaned and started to pace the sand, “What if the mermaids get him? What if it is the boy we need? If he dies before we can get his heart--”

“Pet,” Peter grabbed me by the shoulders to stop my pacing, “Calm down. You’re more worried than I am.”

“How are you not worried?! If it is the boy we need and he is killed by mermaids or drowns then we’re going to have to find another way to break the curse and who knows how long that will take. Tigerlily’s waning magic can only hold off the hourglass for so long and--”

“Shh, breathe, it is going to be fine,” He held my face rubbing his thumb along my cheek, “I promise. My word is my bond.”

“Need I remind you the last time you said that you ended up nearly dying in the Black Fairy’s mine.” I muttered.

“But I didn’t break my promise,”

“I suppose not,” I pressed closer so my face was buried in his chest, “This has been a long day. I think I’d like to just go to bed.”

He brought the both of us back to camp and settled down in his tent for some well deserved rest. The next couple of days there was no news about the boy the shadow had lost. Peter assured me he was still alive and in the ocean. Either this boy was the best swimming combatant in all the world or Hook had managed to hide him on his ship. The latter was looking to be the more likely option. If that slimy pirate was keeping the boy then there would be hell to pay.

Peter and I stood on a cliff overlooking the island. I was beside myself wondering if the boy we needed was the one missing in the sea. Nevermind the guilt of it being one of Wendy’s brothers. She hadn’t made much mention of her family other than she had some brothers and parents.

To take my mind off such troubling thoughts Peter took me for my first flying lesson. I was keeping back from the edge too scared to move closer. Peter and I at cliffs never ended well before.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, this is supposed to be fun,” he chuckled seeing my fright, “It’ll be alright.”

“I don’t believe you,” I looked over the cliff and my vision tunneled. I feel like I’m gonna be sick.

“Smart girl,” he pulled a vial of pixie dust from his pocket. Before he could uncork it Ben came running up the hillside out of breath.

“Ben, what’s going on?” I asked. He looked manic.

“Pirates...came to shore...said they had the boy,” he explained through his panting.

“I knew it!” I started storming back down the hill, “I am going to skin that pirate alive!”

“Y/N! Wait a moment! Y/N!” Peter ran to catch up to me. “I love the bloodlust as always and yes the pirates are going to pay for lying to us but you cannot go charging head first onto a pirate ship.”

“I can handle them,” I told him.

“I know that and they know that but you are a little too close to this situation.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you going back to the ship. I’ll have some other boys retrieve him tonight. Okay?”

“But I--”

“Need to relax. Go back to camp and take out whatever frustrations you have on someone else. I’ll deal with Hook.”

“Fine,” I grumbled and returned to the camp. I pulled Nick aside to spar with and work out all my residual anger. I was still mad Peter was refusing to let me collect the boy but maybe he did have a point. This was one of Wendy’s brothers and if it was the boy we needed and Hook had purposely kept him from us there was no telling how I would repay the pirate.

So I waited for night to fall. Felix and some boys left to collect the boy from the Jolly Roger and I waited on the beach with the scroll containing the image of the Truest Believer. I wasn’t exactly sure what to think. It was Wendy’s brother so I wanted to keep him safe out of obligation to her but if it was the boy we needed to save Peter then my loyalties were set.

Peter offered to wait with me but I told him I’d rather be alone. After what felt like forever the boys came back to shore with the boy and a sack over his head. Felix and the others pulled him from the row boat and uncovered his mask. A quick look between him and the sketch confirmed that he wasn’t the boy we were looking for. I was relieved I didn’t need to kill Wendy’s brother but also disappointed yet again that the only cure for Peter’s curse still eluded us.

“It’s not him,” I told the boys, “Take him back to camp.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere with you!” the boy shouted digging in his heels and trying his best to escape.

“Sorry about this,” I hit him in the head with my club only hard enough to knock him out. Dead weight was easier to drag along then a thrashing teenager. “Okay, now you can take him back to camp.”

I followed the boys back. Peter was waiting by the bonfire. I shook my head and his features darkened. “Can’t say I’m surprised but I was rather hoping…” he looked closer at the boy we dragged back, “Wait a moment,”

“What is it?” I asked but he didn’t answer. The boy was starting to come to again and Peter’s face split into a sadistic smile. Something good was happening but I wasn’t sure what.

“Not as good as the Truest Believer but a wonderful prize nonetheless,” he grabbed a handful of the boy’s hair tugging his head up. “Hello Baelfire.”

“No…” the boy, or Baelfire, was still groggy but had enough sense to try and rip himself free from the people holding him. “Let me go!”

“Is that anyway to talk to an old friend?” Peter tsked. “I would have thought all these years would have given you better manners.”

“We are not friends! We never were! You only wanted to hurt my father by taking me!” Baelfire was more alert and tried to lunge at Peter.

“Will someone explain what is going on here?” I snapped walking between Peter and Baelfire. “How do you know one of Wendy’s brothers?”

“This is not one of our departed bird’s brothers,” Peter reached for my dagger. “This lad right here is the son of a very old friend of mine. Should be a dodgery old man given the year we picked you from but I believe that is a story for another time.”

“Old friend?” I was going to ask him what in the world he was going on about when he flashed the R carved into the bottom of my dagger. Rumplestiltskin. “Wait, you mean to tell me that this is the Dark One’s son?”

“That he is. Met him many years ago when I was still playing the piper. I made a promise I would have him for a Lost Boy and here he is. Much later than I intended but good things come to those who wait, don’t they?” he grinned victorious. “Go lock him up in the cages. Can’t have him running off.”

“Pan, I swear if you don’t return me to the Darling’s--”

“You’ll what? Have your dear daddy come to Neverland and curse me? Considering you were living with an entirely knew family I’d say he’s out of the question as far as you’re concerned. I’ll let you tuck in for the night and we’ll talk to you again when you’ve simmered down in the morning.” Peter handed my dagger back to me, “Sleep well,”

“No! Let go of me! Pan! Get back here--” Baelfire was finally silenced by someone stuffing a gag in his mouth. The boys hauled him towards the cages.

Peter tugged on my hand bringing me back to his tent so we could speak in private. Once inside away from listening ears I found myself at a crossroads. What should I think of this boy? The son of the Dark One but also one of Wendy’s brothers (in spirit at least). Should I hate him? Protect him? Play along with this game of Peter’s? It was all very confusing.

“Care to share your thoughts?” Peter asked.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I settle on one.” I muttered sitting down and drawing my knees to my chest. “How come you never told me about the Dark One’s son?”

“Didn’t see the point to be honest. It was well before your time and I thought the boy dead before he was brought to our shore.” Peter sat down next to me.

“Alright...what should I be thinking? Do we hate him? Do we have a purpose for him? Are we killing him? Converting him into a Lost Boy? What?”

“We’re not killing him and we do have a purpose for him. Whether we hate him or not is up for debate but we should be working to turn him into a member of our ranks.”

“Okay, I can work with that.” I relaxed, “And Hook? He lied to us.”

“But he returned the boy. We’ll let this one pass.”

“You are going to let him get away with--”

“Y/N,” Peter pinched my arm silencing me, “I’ve made my decision. Besides, one petty lie doesn’t warrant a personal punishment. If I gave some grandiose punishment every time Hook lied to me then he would be dead right now.”

“He lies to you a lot?”

“From time to time but he always makes up for it in one way or another whether he wants to or not.” He stood up again hauling me to my feet alongside him, “Come on, the night is young and so are we. Let’s have some fun.”

“I’m not in the mood for fun. I think I’m just gonna go back to my tent.”

“As you wish,” he left the tent and I followed a moment later. I made sure he was preoccupied with the others and left towards the cages.

No one was around. Isaac was swinging in one keeping quiet and still as he always did. Baelfire was not being as complacent. He was swinging back and forth wildly most likely trying to break the rope suspending him from the ground.

“If you think that’s going to work you’re going to be sorely mistaken.” I told him.

“Leave me alone,” he snapped at me.

“Nah,” I came closer lowering the cage to the ground.

“You’re letting me go?” I could see his eyes peeping through the slits in the wicker.

“No, I just needed to ask you something and figured it’d be easier if you weren’t tossing yourself around like a puppet on a string.” I sat down across from him.

“Whatever you want to know you can forget it. I am not helping someone who aligns themselves with Pan.”

“Your courage is admirable but can we drop the blind hatred for two seconds. You were staying with the Darling’s weren’t you?”

“Yes...I swear if you even think about going back for more of them--”

“Hush!” I kicked the cage, “You want the entire camp to come charging over here? I’m not interested in bringing any more of them to the island. I only came to ask about Wendy.”

“What about her? You stole her then sent her back for another sibling. What should you care?”

“I care more than you realize.” I sighed touching the golden flower crown she had made me, “I liked her. It was nice having her around but she didn’t want to stay. I understood that. I let her go without a fuss but I never got to say goodbye either.”

I scooted closer to the cage. “How was she? When she returned? Was she alright?”

“You…?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Physically she was fine. Mentally she was worried because she said that you people would be returning for one of her brothers. I couldn’t let magic tear apart another family so I went in their stead.”

“That’s all I wanted to know.” I stood up to suspend him back in the air when a thought entered my mind, “One more thing, does this look like either of Wendy’s brothers? Know that if you are lying to me I will find out.”

I showed him the sketch of the Truest Believer. He studied it for a moment before shaking his head. “No. I promise.”

“Okay. I believe you.” I got the rope and hauled him back off the ground.

“Wait, before you go,” Baelfire called as I started to leave, “Who are you? Are you the only girl on this island?”

“I’m Y/N and I am the only Lost Girl, yes. Is that so shocking?”

“I suppose not. But what of your relationship with Pan? I could tell you knew more than the others did when he spoke of my father.”

“It is a long complicated story. Don’t worry yourself over it. Best get some rest. Tomorrow Peter is going to put you through the ringer and you’ll need all the energy you can get. Sleep well.”

I returned to my tent and laid down careful to set my crown where it wouldn’t be crushed while I slept. I still wasn’t sure what to make of this Baelfire. An enemy of Peter’s but a friend of Wendy’s. How much simpler all this would have been if we had returned that little bird as soon as she arrived.

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#slowburn #ouat peter pan #peter pan ouat #ouat #neverland #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

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