Night Comes To Tallahassee

[we_bring_hell]

The Bar does her best to mother the underage patrons of the Bar, nudging them gently towards self-care and withholding harmful things, but she is not omniscient. She couldn't have known not to give Harrowhark Nonagesimus pushpins and index cards and colorful string.

Harrow has secured a small sideroom in the library, the equivalent of a grad student cubicle, and something awful is taking shape there; the crazy conspiracist murder board equivalent of the bone construct lurking in the depths of Canaan House. There is color-coding. There are crossreferences. There are Tarot cards mixed in. There's a map of Canaan House. There are accidental yarn pentagrams that have somehow not yet summoned the soul of Pepe Silvia.

Harrowhark is dressed way down, and yet somehow at her most feral and goblin-like, sockfooted and gloveless in soft pants and black hoodie, as she shifts the cards around and examines new configurations. Ever so often she refers to her journal. She is humming something under her breath.

Comments

[we_bring_hell]

She stares at a particular card.

"Gideon is from my past. I cannot tell her what I have steeled myself to say, because I know she did not know it then."

"I must let her catch up to me, although it means allowing," she grits her teeth, "unforgivable mistakes to happen. Again."

[lightamidchaos]

Now he looks visibly alarmed.

"Harrow. No. Can you not tell her? Can the mistakes not be corrected?"

[we_bring_hell]

"I am told by those who have been here a long time and have experience in these matters that it cannot be," she says, squeezing her nails into her palms. "At the best I can create a second world where she knows, but then she will have to contend with a version of me who is ignorant. At the worst I will destroy our sanity."

[lightamidchaos]

He feels a wave of dizziness pass through him and fends it off with grim strength of will, bracing one hand against a clear spot of wall and drawing on his golden core to do so.

He is here from almost three years in Wei Ying's future. If Harrow is right, what does that mean for them?

"There must be a way," he says, flat and determined. "I do not know who you have spoken with. Have you asked them about this? If this has happened before, there must be a way to manage things. You cannot -- she will --"

[we_bring_hell]

She looks at him sharply, but she recognizes herself in his grim determination and does not interfere. She merely removes the items from the chair to the desk and turns back to the wall, not looking at it or him.

"She must go back, knowing of Milliways, and be silent, until she can catch up to me," she repeats. "As, perhaps, she always has. A continuous ribbon of events."

She gestures at the table. "I have spent this morning reviewing what I can find in this library. Nothing I find encourages me. I could perhaps erase myself to create a new timeline, but the Harrowhark in that timeline, who does not have my memories, is unlikely to listen to Griddle. Fool that I am. Was."

[lightamidchaos]

"I will help you search."

He glances toward the table, but does not step away from the wall just yet.

"If she has gone back knowing and you were not aware before - then perhaps she could keep other secrets?"

He pauses, thinking that through. Having not met Gideon Nav, he is not certain whether or not that would be likely, and gives Harrow a quizzical look, silently inquiring.

[we_bring_hell]

"I have seen the body of Jeannemary the Fourth," she says heavily.

"They are dead, Lan Wangji. She just doesn't know yet, hasn't had to experience it. It has happened."

[lightamidchaos]

"It has happened for you."

Which, he realizes, is the whole problem. Lan Wangji hisses out a harsh breath.

"... if there is a way I will help you find it."

[we_bring_hell]

She worries a thumb on her temple. "It is... unsupportable. I must go back soon and synchronize with her. I cannot live this way."

She takes a sharp breath through her nose. "I have lived with worse sins," she says a low voice. "And I should have more... resilience. But I feel like I am reaching the end of myself."

"I was going to tell her. I was ready. I was ready to die at her hands," she whispers wearily.

[lightamidchaos]

"Send her back instead," he suggests. "Tell her when to return. Wait here, until she does."

Even as he says it, he is trying to spot flaws in the idea.

"Surely she would be willing? If you told her that you were here from a different point in time?"

[we_bring_hell]

When you are lying in waiting with Palamedes to confront me about the head of Protosilaus the Seventh, return to Milliways instead, she tries out in her head.

"She will have to go back too, of course, eventually," she says. "But I do not want to rush her out of this solace."

"My hope is that she will still trust me enough to return with me, both together. For me it will be no time--well, hardly any time--at all." She will have to deal with Palamedes and the matter of the severed head. But for Gideon it will have been the worst day of her life, in between.

"I had thought... the salt water inlet... a clean breast of it." She looks sideways at Lan Wangji. "Whatever she decides to... you must help her, no matter what. Please. If I am dead she will need a future."

[lightamidchaos]

"When she is ready, then. If you have the gift of time here."

He is still reeling from her request, and understands, given their previous conversations, exactly how important it is to Harrow. That she would even make it--

"I will help her, as I can. If it is needed. I give you my word."

[we_bring_hell]

"I am sorry," she says. "I have no right to ask it. But no one else would understand."

She collects herself, hardening. "Let the Ninth have not failed one of its children, at least."

[lightamidchaos]

He turns to face her directly, standing tall and straight, and brings his hands up in front of him in a full, formal bow.

"Through you, now, it has not."

He finishes the bow and lowers his arms once more.

"But I shall hope for the best, Harrow. For you both."

[we_bring_hell]

"I am so pleased," she says softly. "For you and for Wei Wuxian. And I am glad you have returned. I would have been sorry to leave without knowing."



"He was... anxious about how you'd respond."

[lightamidchaos]

"I do not know why he should have been."

He shakes his head.

"I know now that he did not realize. I thought it would have been obvious."

[we_bring_hell]

"It was clear to me, and to him I believe, that you care deeply for him," she says. "But matters of romance are more than just mutual care. There are... other matters involved, which you cannot control no matter how much you wish, no?"

She sounds very, very academic about it, and slightly uncomfortable with those 'other matters.'

[lightamidchaos]

"I do not think it was that," he murmurs.

He is very certain of it, in fact, but has no intention of explaining how he knows.

"I think he simply did not understand how I felt."

He suspects he knows the reason for that, and it may well have a great deal to do with what Wei Ying sometimes allows himself to believe about what others think.

"Now he does. And he has forgiven me for -- for that which you and I spoke of, before."

[we_bring_hell]

(Forgiveness.)

"Then you have not only my felicitations but my envy, Lan Wangji," she says in a voice that is rawer than she'd like it to be.

(Can you imagine?)

[lightamidchaos]

"I wish you the same fortune," he says, very quietly.

"I know how very lucky I am."

[we_bring_hell]

She clears her throat. "So. That is my crisis of the day," she says briskly.

(She didn't talk about Ingress, though.)

"When I found no answers in books, I decided to turn back to my Lyctoral studies. It is a more than adequate distraction."

[lightamidchaos]

"Mn. I suppose."

He studies the cards and strings for a few moments.

"It sounds as though you had another distraction, though."

[we_bring_hell]

"Mm," she says. She knows what he's talking about. "That was another night. Before things got so complicated."

[lightamidchaos]

He slants a sideways look at her.

"And that does not make it more complicated?"

[we_bring_hell]

"Somewhat," she says. "It seems... petty in comparison."

She shrugs; she still isn't looking at him straight on. "It was very unexpected."