03: Changes
Insects buzzed and strange croaking growls kept Alexa awake that evening. She knew the noises were coming from the lizardfolk and lizards of differing sizes, so she wasn't afraid. She'd even used her gift from La Chanson to translate the noises for an hour, hands sleepily drawing notation in the air as she hummed softly. The notes clustered around her, catching in her hair as she closed her eyes, listening to welcome sounds of family. What started as a horrific cacophony of cracking wood became the sound of a concerned mother calling her young. As she strained her half-elven ears she could hear the guard at their door gargle out a warning to some young who were apparently trying to catch a glimpse of...well, her.
Eyes closed, listening to the world, she wondered what Vee made of it all. She knew he was listening to the noises - she knew he could hear more than she, even if he couldn't understand it. As the hammock swayed unnervingly, she thought about the fact that he was, again, proud. She sighed gently, uncertain. Yes, she had brought the lizardfolk to their cause. Yes, it was in their best interest to help, but she was still uncomfortable with what she had done. People were going to die tomorrow - this was a fact - and the thought did not sit well with the young woman. It was more than that, though. As she lay, listening to this peaceful world around her, she could hear La Chanson weaving its gentle serenade through the air.
People were going to die, and despite knowing it was Tallman's fault - that without him there none of this would have happened - despite that, a small portion of each death would belong to her.
The problem - the big problem, was that a tiny part of her didn't care. A tiny part of her was jubilant at what she'd achieved - that she would be able to bring the lizardfolk some justice. Some vengeance. They were owed it - just as she was owed a stinging slap to Ellinora's cheek. Tallman - and those like him - needed to be taught a lesson. She knew that. She did. She could look deep enough into herself - the Song wound itself into the deepest hissing corners of her mind, after all - to know these feelings were here. So what was the problem, really?
Vee.
Since leaving home she had seen a different side to him. She knew and understood that his task was to keep her alive - to look after her so she could do what needed to be done. And she thought, often, about the fact that grandmère had failed in that task, whatever it was. She shifted in the hammock, aware that Vee would hear her every move, remembering a time when she was very small that he had woken her from a nightmare and held her until she fell asleep. There were hundreds of memories like this:
The times she'd infuriated Maman trying to sleep standing beside him; the times she'd forced him to wear a bonnet and pretend to be a baby; the rainy days she'd spent hours clambering over him like a tree; the times he had watched silently as she yelled her hatred of anything that moved; his patience as she regained control of her temper and struggled (everytime) with the process of apology...
Alexa rolled over to peer out of the hammock at the construct. In the dark as they were, perhaps he couldn't see her from where he stood, but he could hear her. She drew in a breath to whisper to him and hesitated. Lying back down, she let the edges of the hammock fold in around her as closely as her thoughts closed in around those memories. Like the first time she saw his armoured state, she was struggling to reconcile all these gentle, beautiful moments with the ruthless efficiency Vee was showing now - the open disgust he showed for Tallman's existence. She expected Lucas to be efficient - he was a soldier and soldiers were trained to kill. She expected Jasper to be ruthless - he was a criminal and they did bad things - saw bad things. But Chevalier? He'd held her four-year-old hand as she dragged him to the kitchen for milk, had stood with her in the rain as she learned to shoot rabbits, had helped her steal sweets...
And of course the questions it raised about grandmère...
In all the stories grandmère had told, she'd never warned Alexandrie about the feeling of killing. Of the consequences. She'd never mentioned the sense of justification and the powerful feeling that came with manipulation.
She'd also never told Alexa why or how she had failed La Chanson.
So the question that kept Alexa awake for some time now was:
Did grandmère fail because she wasn't ruthless, or because she was?
Vee - Viellard - Chevalier - was the closest proxy she had to her grandmère here. He had learned of this world from grandmère and her party. Did Alexa need to be more like grandmère, or less? Which would make La Chanson happy? Which was Vee proud of?
Shifting again, the hammock began to sway slightly. Behind the lids of her closed eyes, she could see the light of the spell fading, the lizardfolk sounds returning to their horrific rumble.
'In the morning,' she thought sleepily, plunged into darkness, the croaks and growls quietening around her, 'we fight.' Fighting sleep, she furrowed her brows as she tried to hold onto fleeting thoughts. 'I don't want them to die...I don't want them to die, but they don't feel the same.' Her breathing slowed, became more regular as she drifted. Hammocks were comfortable when you got used to them. Despite her concerns, despite the fears, she was falling asleep.
"I won't let anything happen to you, Vee," she whispered at last, and slipped into a deep, deep slumber.
