Black Storm - Red Queen Fan Fiction

Chapter 14 - The Fitter part V

Happy new year, dear readers! I hope this chapter of 90 % angst and 10 % talking about clothes will not sink your hopes for 2017! ;-)

(The next chapters will jump back and forth in time a little. I'll try include dates whenever it's possible.)

Today was the 4th of December and it was a day to celebrate. Cal felt as if he was more excited than the actual bridal pair that was to get married this evening. He would have liked to rejoice for Sara and Julian, to decorate instead of interrogate and to float through the day and his tasks. Of course that wasn't possible, life never gave him a break. Julian would not have to bother with the mean-spirited Silvers on his wedding day and Farley had felt ill in the last two days. He had been surprised about this, she painfully avoided to appear delicate or indisposed usually. Yet when he had opened his mouth - to marvel, not to protest - about her absence, Gisa had given him a scolding he would never forget.

"I wonder if you Silvers have any ideas about keeping care of people! Yourselves or others. You will not force anyone to overwork themselves while I'm here."

Ouch.

She had stood before him with her hands on her hips and glared at him as bold as Mare or Farley and he had asked himself if she was right. Did he forget about the needs of his comrades? Did he forget about himself? But he couldn't bring himself to shove his goals aside, not when he was able to achieve something. Yet he didn't know how to comfort anyone, including himself. He kept going, working on anything he could find until he fell asleep. If he didn't occupy himself, he would break, and he assumed it was the same for most of them.

Sara's and Julian's wedding was another thing, of course. They were happy and they deserved to be, and Cal was glad for them.

Actually, Farley had been more occupied with another mission that had been brought up lately. Cal was to be part of it, but the details came in very slowly. Bits and pieces were all that he was told, and Farley didn't seem to know much more either. But she had hinted at something, that this was going to help Mare in the long run.

That was the spark of hope that he had come here for.

Thus Cal had to maintain his focus on the work ahead and so he took Kilorn and one of the veteran Guards, Marian Halcombe, a woman in her late thirties, with him. They weren't much worse as partners, though he missed the routine he had established with Julian and Farley. The Silvers were curious to meet other people, of course. Some liked to play with the newcomers, scaring or teasing them, but Halcombe and Kilorn didn't show fear and Cal was proud of them. After all, they had to find a way to coexist, without keeping a strict seperation, if they ever wanted to have a united front against Maven's forces.

Before Cal called it a close for the day, he pulled Kilorn aside.

"Do you have to tease Farley so often? It isn't funny to remind her of all the - baby clichés. Or to brag about how much longer and better you have known Shade."

Kilorn appeared serious of a sudden, instead of scolded. "You know, someone will say these things to her, sooner or later," he explained. "I think it's better if that was me. I hope she understands this. I want to cheer her up." He shrugged.

Cal frowned. "Are you sure it works that way?"

"You never know. But at least I'm trying to."

Everyone seemed to be better at this than him. So did Julian. He came to visit his uncle in the afternoon, just a couple of hours before he would make his vows to Sara. Together, they assessed the outfits they would wear at the wedding. It wasn't easy to stick to the colour codes of Silver High Houses with the limited resources and the practicality of the rebel base. Gisa had provided some embroidery and she'd tailored their clothes to fit accurately, yet Julian would have to make do with yellow and golden accessoiries and a nice suit while Cal tried on finery for the first time in months. He hadn't bothered about his looks and clothes then, but Julian deserved better than his nephew clad as ragged soldier. It was stunning to see himself styled up, even when this could not compare with the rich fabrics he'd worn as the crown prince. But that was not what this was about - he did this for the occasion and the people involved, not the luxury.