Interstitial - 1 R,L,I (An Order of Amber) (Patreon)

Rhian walked up to her friend from behind, wrapping her up in a surprise hug. "Do you have to go?" She murmured into Irwen'ss ear. "I'll miss you."

A hand moved up to clasp hers over Irwen's breast. "My daughter came to find me." Irwen whispered. "I... I can't just ignore her, and... she's right. I owe Celestine an apology."

In response Rhian simply tightened her hug around the older woman. They had only known each other a little over a year, from the winter before last, but Irwen was her best friend. They had confided all their fears in one another, things she wouldn't tell even her husband. Her lost pregnancy as a young girl, her father's brutality over her 'infidelity', and the one she ran away from. Irwen's magic, her daughter, her... failings.

"You left that life behind." Rhian eventually protested weakly. She had championed for Irwen to make contact again, to send messages and ease her guilt and sorrow. But somehow she hadn't considered that it would steal her friend away from her. "I need you here. What will Orion do without his godmother?"

Irwen twisted around to return the hug in full. "He will have a loving mother and a doting father. You can manage, Rhi. I know you can."

Rhian's lips quivered as her eyes grew wet. She wasn't ready! She was so happy to be a mother, she loved her little boy so much, but she wasn't ready!

A hand brushed through her hair softly and little reassurances flowed into her ear.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, a common refrain when she got so emotional.

"Never apologise for feeling." Irwen said back, the same response as always as she continued too run her fingers through Rhian's hair. "I never said where I got that saying from, did I?"

Rhian shook her head carefully, not wanting to dislodge the comforting hand.

"My daughter said it. Not to me, but a boy who was crying over the death of his family's dog. She told him not to apologise, for by crying he showed he cared. If he apologised for that he was saying it didn't matter."

Having finally met Irwen's daughter Rhian could actually believe it. The little force of nature that had forced her way into their shop seemed larger than life, more than her growing body should be able to possess. So much of her was Irwen it had been a shock to see; and she had even been wearing the dress the two of them had made together, a gift meant for no one save their own dreams of a happy family.

After her ruddy candle-less kobold of a husband had soldit Irwen had been inconsolable for weeks.

"She's strong like you." Rhian said. "I understand why you thought she could make it without you."

It was the wrong thing to say she knew, for Irwen began to tremble.

"I'm not strong." Irwen gasped. "I never was."

Rhian disagreed, Irwen was so very strong. She had survived alone, caring for her little girl, for so many years. She had survived prosecution that made Rhian's look like nothing, had been thrown out even young and survived.

If she hadn't met Irwen, if she hadn't fallen for Todlin and him for her, then her life would have soon become one working from her back.

She was too weak to find a path on her own back then, and even now she didn't know how she was going to survive without her best friend.

"Mama?" Came a call from outside, the girl who was all but family yet taking hers away.

"I need to pack." Irwen said softly.

"No." Rhian muttered, but made no effort to impede Irwen's work.

"Mama!" Gwyneth said as she stepped into the room, the dress they had made for her fitting so very well despite guessing. The only thing amiss was that they had overestimated her bust; but perhaps she would grow into it. "There– oh, hello miss Thyme."

Rhian averted her eyes away from Gwyneth, not wanting her to see their wetness. Yet for all it was embarrassing she kept on clinging to Irwen.

"I've spoken to Lord Mistmantle and apologised for the ruckus I caused." She said casually, as if speaking to his Lordshop was nothing special. "He's offered to take us to Lord Crowley's estate, and from there we should be able to gain passage back to Keel Harbour. I don't want to miss Emma's birthday."

Irwen smiled up at her daughter, a fragile and worried thing that didn't belong on the face of Rhian's strong and capable friend. "That sounds well planned." She said.

Lord Crowley. One of theLords, second only to the King himself.

Rhian wasn't sure whether she should be horrified or astounded at the circles her friend's daughter had somehow made her way into. Nobles were... nobles. She clung harder to Irwen; Lord Mistmantle was a goodlord, and his son was gone more often than not.

She was safe.

She had to be.

"I don't want to rush you so we will be leaving in the morning." Gwyneth said, no question left as to whether Irwen could refuse in her tone. "I.. I'll leave you to it." She turned and left, the door to Irwen's home clicking shut behind her.

The hand returned to caressing her hair. "I'll come back, Rhi. I've... I have to see my sister, my niece, I have to apologise. But this is home now." Irwen's voice wobbled, straining with emotion. "I threw my daughter away and can never get her back. Not truly. And we both know it."

It was Rhian's turn to comfort her friend as Irwen descended into tears, fitful sobs escaping her as she tried to pack up what she would need for the journey.

She abandoned her husband's bed that night to spend it with her best friend, her darling baby boy nestled between the two of them.

-oOoOo-

Lorna paused and straightened her skirts before knocking lightly on the door to her father's solar. She had been out in the orchard when someone came with word of guests, and approaching the house she recognised her best friend's stagecoach easily enough. Why father was in his solar and sent for her here she didn't know, they normally met Vivi and Isobel in the Orangery.

"Come in." Father said and she opened the door.

"Hello father, I saw the Mistmantle– oh!" Lorna smiled as she saw who the guests. "Gwen! It's good to see you again." Right beside the familiar face of the little witch girl was an older woman, slightly taller and with shorter hair but otherwise so very similar. "And you must be Gwyneth's mother, it is a pleasure to meet you." She said, curtsying.

As Lorna watched Gwen's eyes flick up to the rose she was still wearing in her hair – it smelled wonderful – she smiled, tilting her head just so to make her hair sway as she smiled sweetly.

That Gwen blushed like the boys she practised on sometimes was incredibly amusing.

"A pleasure to see you again, Lorna." Gwen said calmly, showing she had better control over herself than said bouts. Which, of course she did, she was a mage! A Witch, rather. "This is my mother, Irwen. I found her."

There was a surprising distance between them, sat at opposite ends of the long settee her father used to entertain guests.

"Magus Arevin will be staying briefly before she continues on to visit her mentor." Father said, the faint crinkle at his eyes showed he wasn't bothered by her lack of formality on seeing her hopefully-a-friend. "Sadly Vivianne isn't here, Tobias lent the use of his coach for transport but..."

"Lady Mistmantle refused to travel, citing the ongoing complications with the wall." Gwen finished for him. "It's causing such a sodding mess." She grumbled loudly. "Stupid Greymane."

"Gwen!" Her mother hissed, scandalised.

"While I cannot echo the sentiment in good company I also cannot dispute it." Father said bluntly, pouring himself a shot of whisky. Gwen's mother, Irwen, stared at father as if he'd grown a second head like an Ettin. "Take a seat, Lorna."

"Of course." Lorna said with a smile, walking over and placing herself in the chair next to Gwen. "You've grown in the last few months, the dress fits much better now."

She glanced down at herself, the blush reaffirming itself on her cheeks. She hadn't grown at allin height.

Elsewhere? Certainly.

"Now that my daughter is here, why don't you enlighten us as to your travels? Outside of a sighting by the Silverlaine's of a Wildhammer landing beside their keep there has been little word." Father said, steepling his hands over his chest as he gazed curiously at my friend.

Lorna knew her father had taken to heart what she had told him about Gwen and the Witches, though not in the way she had intended. She met Lottle Spellwaker for the first time since she was a babe at her mother's breast, and even one of the valiant Paladins of the Silver Hand; Vivi had been green with envy over that. The only reason father would have contacted them was to investigate her claims.

She didn't know exactly what they had done, but when he had returned he gave his blessing to her friendship with the witch should she return. And she had! As the months passed Lorna had worried something had happened, or she had simply forgotten about her and vanished into the background.

"Well, we flew on to Pyrewood..." Gwen said, continuing on to tell the tale of her travels, of finding a clue but changing course to Dalaran, of the wondrous splendour of the City of Magic – a place Lorna wished to visit one day herself. She could scarcely imagine what it took to build spires that reached high enough to scrape the clouds in the sky, or how the presence of so many mages and all that magic shaped the lives of those who lived there in innumerable ways.

When Gwen came to the point of the story where she had left Dalaran, fighting herself not to curse the name of an Archmage, her father interjected bluntly.

"Damnit, Genn." He said without paying heed to his audience, downing his drink and pouring another.

Once again Irwen looked horrified by the casual disregard for the king. Maybe a few years back Lorna would have agreed, she had had a crush on Prince Liam for several years and saw being Gilneanas being loyal to the Greymanes once upon a time.

But such sentiment had wavered and died over the last few months, as the realities of the king's plans showed themselves.

Hundreds of years of loyal service, the place they had won by siding with the King during the War of Broken Oaths, tossed aside and the trust between them shattered as the king betrayed them and split their lands apart.

It made her blood boil.

She kept listening to Gwen's story even as she felt the embers of anger stoking themselves against the Greymanes, and slowly it wound to a close.

"–and when Lady Vivianne mentioned the tailor's name I remembered, and went running."

"It was raining so heavily at the time." Irwen mumured, glancing furtively at her daughter.

"Mmm." Gwen hummed, shrugging off any concern. "It's just water, not even all that cold this time of year. But that's how I found her, there was... screaming and crying but that's were it ends."

"Thank you for the story, Gwen." Lorna said, taking Gwen's hand in hers and clasping it reassuringly. The way her head snapped up and her eyes widened, glancing down at her hand, was adorable. She had no idea how to respond! For all etiquette lessons could be a horrid bore they were worth the effort. "I understand you need to go back and see your mentor, in Keel Harbour?" She left it as a question and Gwen nodded. "But once you are done, we are still without a real healer in our lands. Sister Roper does what she can but she is just a lay Sister, not a true Priest of the Light. Would you be willing to return?"

"Lorna." Father said softly. She was overreaching, she knew, they had discussed the possibilities briefly in the aftermath of him giving her blessing to befriend the Witch but he had not committed. It hadn't mattered until she showed herself again regardless.

He spent a moment staring at Lorna before speaking again. "While my daughter does not speak for me in this, I would entertain the prospect on a probationary basis. A Witch to aid my people, compensated for their work."

Gwen blinked at her slowly. "Ah..." She looked down at her hand, then smiled, a genuine and happy smile. "Yes, yes I would. Mother lives closer to here, it would hard to visit Cele– my teacher and her daughter," She corrected herself as she was about to say a name, "but yes."

"You would not prefer to settle in Tobias' lands?" Father asked.

A good question, assuming Irwen returned to her life she could well want to live nearby. Not that it would be a disaster, a reason to visit Vivi more often would hardly go amiss.

Gwen turned, looking at her mother and frowning. "No. I am... gladI found my mother," Irwen shrank in on herself, slowly raising an arm to reach out to her daughter who took her hand, squeezed it for but a moment, and let go. "But the hurtis too raw." Gwen looked away, back at father. "The wound is drained of poison but still needs time to heal."

Father nodded, and Lorna found herself doing so as well. It wasn't a happy thing to hear but...

She remembered the years after her mother past. For so long she couldn't bare to look at the stables, to approach the horses her mother had spent so much of her time rearing and caring for. A true equestrian who took pride in competing and teaching a little Lorna how to ride...

Eventually she returned one day, taking her mother's old favourite horse out for a ride, and cried. Cried herself to sleep until her father's men found her.

The wound had hurt so much, and yet now each time she brushed down a horse she remembered her mother carefully teaching her how to do it. Happy memories of a time long past, but worth so much to feel again.

"I understand." Lorna quietly. "I'm so very glad you found her, but I understand."

There was little she wouldn't give to see her mother once again, to bring her back. That Gwen regained hers, even if it would be a struggle to be family again, was a truly wondrous thing.

-oOoOo-

For all the painful words her daughter, her little blessing, had spoken had hurt and gouged into her it was the long silence of the road, the ride in the coach from inn to inn at a pace paid for by one of the Dukes, that told her just how much damage she had done. Gwyneth hated her. Her own daughter could barely even stand to look at her.

And she wasn't sure she could bring herself to protest against it.

They had spoken as little as ten words to another each day on the road, for close to two weeks, where before they would have woven stories out of whole cloth to wind away the time until sleep. Where every moment had been one of mutual happiness and comfort, of reassurance and worry, or teaching and learning. Now there was only quiet resentment and guilt, the few times their eyes met feeling like an accusation she had no rebuttal against.

Irwen couldn't deny she had abandoned her daughter. Run away because she was broken.

But she had chosen to do it because being broken, being weak, being so worthlesshad been holding her daughter back. And she'd been right.

In all of the worst ways.

Out of the window of the coach, the only saving grace of their journey, the waters of the Bite spread out before them and the great lighthouse in the bay stood tall atop its peak.

It wasn't long before they slowed and came to a stop, arriving in Keel Harbour outside of the coaching house that they had visited so long ago to find Old Grims, to look for Celestine. Even then she had wondered if her daughter needed her in her life, but it was later she came up with her plan.

Adams, the driver, opened the slat between them. "Ma'am, we're here." He said, rousing Gwen from her idleness.

"Thank you, driver." She said, stretching and popping her joints before opening the door herself and hopping out. "Come, mother." She said, not even even looking behind her as she collected their belongings from the coach.

Little Gwyneth had more warmth for a stranger than for her own mother now.

You did this to yourself.

Irwen choked back her tears and clambered out herself. She had only brought with her what she needed.

"I'll be waiting here a week, ma'am. To bring you back if yer coming." Adams said to Gwen. "Be staying here if ye need me."

"There shouldn't be any problems, but I'll keep it in mind." Gwen said, nodding to him.

"Then good day ma'am, I'll see to the horses." He bowed and left.

"Mother." Gwen said, finally glancing her way. The moment passed. "Let's go."

Three years ago she had walked down this road, from the same place, with a tired and weary Gwen who had been overburdened from the crowd in the inn. Three years ago and nothing much seemed to have changed, it was once again coming upon the harvest and the fields were lush with grain and vitality. For all they kept a steady walking pace Irwen's breath came more and more quickly, her heart racing.

Only by keeping her eyes on her daughter's back, following in her footsteps, could she stay the course.

Three years ago she had come back to the woman she had left behind to chase after a man, to foist upon her a child she could no longer care for. And now she returned again.

"Celestine isn't going to be happy to see me." Irwen croaked, her voice cracking.

"Doesn't matter. You don't have to stay. If she doesn't want you to talk to her, then you won't. But you willapologise." Gwen looked over her shoulder, frowning at Irwen. "And you'll listen. I told Archmage Modera, and she didn't believe me. I told... I told a fair few people. Not enough. But it's about time I told more."

Perhaps at another time Irwen would have felt confused, but here and now it was drowned underneath the mounting dread she felt.

As the Celestine's home, the Tolbecker Farm, came into sight she saw her Sister, her oldest friend, standing with her arms crossed. Glaring.

"Celestine!" Gwen called out, joy and a tremor of relief in her voice, "I'm back!"

For a moment Celestine's glower diminished, a hint of a smile forming, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Welcome back, Gwyneth." She said softly as they got close enough for polite speech. Then her voice turned hard. "Irwen. You've returned."

"I found her. Maybe I should've sent a letter, but..." Gwen shrugged, more at ease than she had been since they departed Northglade. "We moved fast. Would probably have outpaced it."

"Last I heard you were still studying in Dalaran." Celestine said, starting to smile – though there was a tiredness to it. "You got Rosaline asking to be a magewhen she grows up. Not my apprentice, or yours, a mage. It's all your fault."

Gwen laughed. "There's nothing wrong with mages!"

"There's manythings wrong with mages." Celestine grumbled, though she still seemed happy.

"Does she have any talent?" Irwen asked, only to have to will herself not to flinch as Celestine's expression to flatten in an instant.

"Too early to tell." She said coldly. "Why are you here, Irwen?"

"I..." Irwen swallowed, she was here because her daughter had brought her. Because if she wanted any chance of... of being part of her daughter's life, of making up for what she did, she had to do as she wished. "I am sorry, sister."

"You are no sister of mine." Celestine snapped, slashing her hand through the air. "I claim Gwyneth as my niece, my apprentice, for as long as she is willing. But you are notmy sister."

"Celestine...?" Irwen said, reeling back. But even that earned a glare. "Cel... Missus Tolbecker..." A nod, oh how she wanted to cry. Reduced to titles and family names with the girl who had taken her in as sister. "I am sorry, Missus Tolbecker, I... I was weak and let that weakness dictate my actions."

A week was a long time to think of how to apologise. "I hurt you, I hurt my daughter, and I hurt your own connection to eachother." Irwen's hands clenched into her shirt, wringing the fabric into a tight ball just at her navel as she bowed her head and stared at her feet. Her eyes were filled with tears. "I thought... I thought I held her back. And... and if I did, I held her back... I held her back from growing too quickly."

To see the child her blessing had been changed so much, so much stronger and yet so much sadder, was what had shown her it was a mistake.

Every parent wished for their children to live successful lives. To see them grow and surpass them. Or at least, they should.

But what did it matter that they did if it cost them the ability to be happyin that life?

She wanted her child to have the best path in life. Instead she stole her daughter's childhood from her.

"This isn't the first time I've done this." Irwen sobbed, thinking back on their parting beneath their tree so long ago. "And you forgave me before."

"I won't this time." Celestine said flatly.

Irwen shook her head. "I... I have a life again. Elsewhere. I am... I was... happy. I am here to apologise and nothing more."

She took a step back and let her tears flow freely. She wouldn't sob, she would try to garner pity. She didn't deserve it. She had done this to herself.

A land landed on her shoulder."Mother... Mama?" Gwen said softly, then drew her into a light hug. "Well done, and thank you."

"Not enough." Celestine said, then as Gwen let go and pulled away she sighed heavily. "But it is a start. Robin is preparing dinner, you both might as well join us. Emmaline will be ecstatic."

"Before I leave again we need to talk, about the Future." Gwen said, starting up a conversation with Celestine on what they would do before she left. From teaching Emma again, to showing off her magic learned in Dalaran – magic she hadn't even shown to Irwen yet.

The hug had only been for a moment, the words barely a whisper, but a glimmer of hope bloomed in Irwen's heart. It wasn't impossible, it wasn't doomed, she could win... earnher daughter back in time. If she... if she was strong enough to deserve it.