Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Anger coiled through her like a snake, disgust contorted her face, and jealousy burned in her eyes. Just the sight of them together made her want to burn the world down. Seeing his hands on her child was enough to make her shatter the glass tumbler in her hand and send its smokey amber contents all over her old oak desk. It had seen many a frustrated spill in its lifetime. 

Her biddies hissed vengefully behind her but it was a distant white noise that didn’t break into her thoughts. Her piercing gaze was locked steadfastly on the little family outside in the field in front of her office. 

The woman with fair skin, eyes of melted chocolate, feisty red hair tamed back in braids, with a smile that could win the heart of anyone who gazed upon it, held her child closely. The infant girl with a small mop of that same fiery red atop her head and gleaming bright blue eyes giggled up at her, blissfully unaware that her life could have been so very different. And then there was him. Tanned skin, an angled jaw, and combed chestnut hair, but those beady little eyes and thin smile made her skin crawl. He was laughing at something said by the redhead, but his gaze was on the baby. 

The look in her eye was capable of killing, she knew she was powerful enough. She could do it from where she stood. It was tempting. She’d probably get away with it too. A menacing smile slid across her lips just considering it. 

Of no conscious will of her own the sky darkened before her eyes. Thunder clashed in the distance, startling the couple. The baby flailed and squirmed in the redhead’s arms. The boy swept the child into his arms and helped the redhead off the ground in a hurry to get out before the impending rain. Just as quickly as he had taken the child, the woman took her back. He took her hand instead and attempted to walk away. The woman did not let him though. Instead, those chocolatey eyes turned up toward the building, peering into the office. She would see nothing but closed curtains as Sarah had whipped them shut only a moment before and returned to her desk, a fresh tumbler filled more than it should have been with amber. 

Her biddy, Annalise, had taken it upon herself to clean up the mess Sarah had made. That was the third glass she’d broken this week, and she had lost count of how many times she’d brought storms over the base, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t help it, the thoughts and the sights were unbearable. They tore at her insides and battered her mind. 

How dare he put his hands on her child, on her person?!

“Because they aren’t yours, General,” Another of her biddies spoke up, shattering through the echoing cavern that contained her rageful thoughts. 

She didn’t dignify her with a response, instead, she knocked back a large mouthful to reinforce the bandages she’d placed over the hemorrhaging wounds in her soul. 

The seven older women came together and stood before her. “General, it has been half a year since the birth and longer still since you turned her away, you must see it is unhealthy for you to continue on like this,” Marion spoke for the group.  

“So. What?” She glared across each of their faces as they stood opposed to her. 'Feeling daring tonight, are we?' She challenged telepathically with no shortage of spite. They didn’t retreat nor break their stance.

Marion glared at her with cold eyes. “So you should do your best not to forget that you gave that child up when you forced Mrs. Shelbark to uphold the agreement you forced upon her. The opportunity was presented and you turned her down. You have no rights to her and no rights to her child. You have no choice but to move on,” 

She was about to set a record, two glasses broken in one night. It strained and cracked in her grip. Mrs. Shelbark. No amount of amber could wash the disgust away at hearing those goddess-forsaken words. They assaulted her and the resulting anger only coiled itself tighter inside her. 

Approximately 1 year and 3 months ago...

“Sign here, here, and here,” The Imperratrix stated sharply behind her. Sarah had already signed everywhere, she knew the document well. She was bound to it and once per generation she was called upon to uphold her agreement. She did so with little difficulty. It cost her almost nothing, just a sliver of time; her scientists working in conjunction with the imperative were able to do the rest.

“I’m sorry, this can't be right, the child is forbidden from knowing he or she is related to you?” The timid voice of the selected cosigner broke through the office, somewhere between confused, shocked, and maybe even offended. 

“That is correct,” The Imperatrix confirmed with no margin for discussion, not one word. Her cosigner found more words though, and without a doubt, it would not go over well with the older witch. 

“But…how is that fair? Surely you would be in his or her life, at least somewhat?!” Shrill and most definitely offended, but Sarah didn’t turn around. 

She knew the imperatrix would take care of this, there was probably no reason for her to even be here. “Keep reading, young lady,” Right on cue. 

“‘The child is not to have any direct contact with the General unless in a professional setting directly related to any future service in the armed forces,’ That is insane, you cannot possibly want that,” The girl scoffed and pushed the papers away from her. 

“How dare...this is the highest honor! You should be grateful to serve your country in such a way, without question!” The woman huffed bitterly. “General, I recommend you don’t go through with this. This one clearly doesn’t have what it takes,” 

Something about the statement irked her and prodded her to turn around, but she remained still, eyes focused on the blackened night that shrouded the field below. “That’s enough. I will not allow you to disrespect her in such a way,” 

“Perhaps you did not hear my recommendation to find another suitable candidate,” The imperatrix was always stubborn and it was true suffering to endure her presence for even insignificant amounts of time. At this point, they had been at this for an hour and she was truly insufferable. 

“You are mistaken, she is the one. There is no other in her generation that better fits the requirements. But, as we are not in agreement, you may take your leave,”

Her imagination ran wild with all of the flabbergasted expressions the imperatrix could be making. The woman never seemed to learn. Sarah did not like her, and it gave her great pleasure to remove the other woman from her office every time.  

"I shouldn't need to remind you that your contribution is not an option, if not her due to her lack of agreement, then…," 

The haughty woman was swiftly interrupted. "You misunderstand. I was referring to the lack of agreement between you and I. She is the candidate. That much I know. But please, you may go," She turned around now with excruciating intention to her movements. Her eyes caught a shred of a glimpse at the girl who sat with eyes glued to the documents on the desk, before finding the imperatrix’s disgruntled face. 

With a cross of her arms and a shift of her weight, the other woman sneered. “Excuse me, but you need a witness for these signatures to be valid,”   

"I am well aware, but as I said, you may go. I can handle it from here," Sarah was losing her patience, but she willed herself to remain calm, especially in front of the cadet. 

That was the final word on it. Angered footsteps thudded gruffly against the carpet of her office until the thuds turned to clicks as the woman entered the hallway and slammed the old wooden door shut behind her. 

Now she and the Cadet were alone. Her biddies had been dismissed for the night when the sun was still in the sky. 

There was not a moment this evening she could recall where their eyes had met, and now the girl still did not look up, even as she sat down beside her. 

“Craven,” She needed the girl to look at her. It was always a difficult subject to discuss, even with a witch she knew well, but she knew Tally on an intimate level and that fact was making it infinitely more difficult. They had shared a mind for a good amount of time. Tally had been willing to make certain sacrifices for her before, but she realized this was potentially asking for more than the girl would be willing to give. 

At first thought, it would seem to pale in comparison to the act of surrendering one’s life, but in reality, this was a far greater sacrifice.  In her mind and in her heart, there was no other witch she would rather have from this generation to carry out this task. No other witch was as capable. She trusted her with this more than she had ever trusted any other that came before. 

“Tally, look at me,” The redhead did not move, her eyes not even scanning the pages anymore. “We can talk through this. I recognize you must have questions and there is quite a bit of information to digest,” 

“Why?” Her voice trembled quietly. 

She would not dare assume what the cadet was asking her, there was too much at stake to allow a miscommunication. “Why what, Tally?”

Tally’s soft chocolate eyes were narrowed in confusion. Their child would be lucky to have those eyes, Sarah thought. “Why me?” 

“Because you are of good lineage, you possess incredibly rare work, and beyond that, I personally know you have the heart for it. There is no one I would rather choose,” She tried to convey just how much she wanted Tally to be the one for this. 

“But I don’t understand. You say you know me, but I know you too. I don’t believe that you wouldn’t want to be involved,” Tally’s voice was sharp and adamant with rightful confidence. Tally wasn’t entirely wrong, but it had to be this way no matter how she herself felt about it. 

“I’m afraid you are mistaken in this case. I raised a few children over the years and it just isn’t for me,” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“What about Anacostia?” Tally was fast with the redirection. 

There was always something about the way Tally defied her. Something about the way she couldn’t let things go like she could sniff out the slightest hint of obscured truth as if she could see right through her. “Yes well, Anacostia was a special case and she was not a product of this specific agreement I have with the Imperative,” 

“So the children born from this ‘agreement’ you have, are lesser in your eyes than others?” Tally could never help pushing all of the buttons. 

Reflexively she clenched her jaw. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see Tally noticed with a furrow of her eyebrows. “No. Not lesser, I didn’t say that. Do not put words in my mouth, Craven,” And she slipped back into formalities, which would undoubtedly also not go unnoticed.

“I struck a nerve, did I, General ?” Apparently, her timidness only moments ago was due to being overwhelmed. She had found it odd for Tally to behave with such reservations, given their history. She had only known Tally to be bold and somewhat unforgiving in her willingness to pry information out of her. This was more like the Tally she knew. “I am not. You, yourself, said Anacostia was a special case that you wanted to be involved in, thereby insinuating any ‘product’ of your agreement with the imperative is less than and does not deserve your involvement,”  

“ Deserve my involvement ,” She repeated to herself, bitterly reminiscing several of her key failures. “You are correct. The children do not deserve my involvement. Let’s finish this another time. Tomorrow afternoon, sixteen hundred hours, here. Please come with a decision in mind,” 

“But - “ 

“Goodnight, Cadet,” She only had so much patience, and on top of the imperatrix, Tally’s ability to see right through her years of practiced emotional defenses was exhausting. 

Tally thankfully responded respectfully. She rose from her chair with a nod. “Yes, ma’am, may I take this to review?” The papers ruffled in her hands. 

“You may,” 

“Thank you,” Sarah didn’t watch her leave, but just before the thud of the door closing, she heard the girl’s soft voice “Goodnight, General Alder,” Hearing her title tugged at something deep inside her. 

She did not want it to be like this. It shouldn’t be like this. Desperately she wanted to tear the contract up, be rid of it, take Tally as her partner, and still carry out her agreement with the Imperative.

It couldn’t be that way though. It was better this way. The last time she got involved in her blood child's life, her daughter turned out to be a murderous villain who killed civilians for sport. The differences with Anacostia were that they weren’t related by blood, Anacostia was older when she took on a parenting role, and she had made her boundaries very clear from the beginning. It was a militaristic approach. An approach she hadn’t taken with her previous daughter that had clearly pushed her down that dark path. It was an approach she knew she wouldn’t have the self-control to take with Tally and any child or children they shared. So Tally was right, the children didn’t deserve her involvement because she knew they would be better off without it. 

The contract had been amended after that child grew up to be a killer. It wasn’t enough that her own self-loathing told her it was her fault and she failed her daughter, but the Imperative came to the same conclusion somehow, and it was they who determined she wouldn’t have any contact. She could have fought harder, after all, she had raised many successful witches over her lifetime, but one or two rejected the standard way of their lives and suddenly she wasn’t fit. 

She had several decades to come to terms with it. The Imperative had allowed her to skip a generation and excused her from the previous one as she elected to raise Anacostia instead. There was no exception this time. 

“Here, I’ve signed it,” Tally said immediately as she stepped into the office, not giving Sarah even a chance to greet her. Stiff-armed, she held out the bundle of papers, not moving further than she needed in order to close the door behind her. 

Taking the bundle, Sarah looked between the papers in her hand and the distant brown eyes. She had never felt further from Tally than she did right then. “Did you have any further questions? Last night you seemed -” 

A shake of her head tussled her red hair slightly and it caught the late afternoon sun like flames in the breeze. “No, ma’am,” 

“Well, sit then, Tally, please,” She motioned to a chair by the cold fireplace. 

“I would prefer not to, ma’am,” Her words were strained, forced in her breath. Sarah wished she had been present when she made this decision. “I am doing this as a personal favor because of our intertwined history, but you need to understand that the terms you have set for this task are not met easily and…I need your help. Starting now,” 

“Of course, whatever you ask, within reason,” Sarah was quick with the reassurance. Perhaps a little too quick.

“The vast majority of the requirements pertain to after the birth of the child and their subsequent upbringing…” 

“That is correct. I, obviously, will not have any difficulty keeping my distance and allowing you to raise the child in whatever way you see fit,” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Sarah could hear the bite in Tally’s words. “ But, that is not my concern. My concern is with now. I need you to treat me like everyone else. Respectfully, do not call me by my first name, do not ask me to sit so casually in your office like we are familiar, and do not act like you have seen the inside of my soul and I yours. This contract represents the end of any and all contact between us that is not strictly of a professional nature. Do you understand?”  

That stung, more than she anticipated, but what could she say? She was still the General, any action on her part was forbidden and then there was the agreement she had to fulfill with the terms banning her own involvement. She nodded forcefully. “I understand, Ta-Craven, and that does not affect my choice for you to carry out this task.”  

“Fine. Schedule the procedure,” 

The procedure went without a hitch, painless as always for them both.

“I’m sure our daughter will be -” A slip of the tongue that did not go unnoticed by the cadet as they left the necro facility. 

“No assurances please, General, but allow me to remind you that she will not be our daughter, she will be mine…and whoever chooses to stand at my side to raise her, which by the sound of it, will be Mr. Shelbark, or at least that’s what the Imperatrix has told me,” 

Sarah gritted her teeth. “-It doesn’t have to be him, you can choose whomever you like, she only offers suggestions,”  

“I cannot choose whomever I like,” Tally took a deep breath. “But that doesn’t matter. He will be a good father, probably, who knows? I barely know him,” 

“Goddess protect you both,” Sarah grumbled under her breath.

“What did you say?” Tally looked over at her, but Sarah did not turn to meet her eyes.

“Nothing at all, Cadet. I simply hope you are right,”  

“Even if I’m wrong, you’ll never hear of it,” Tally stopped walking and finally she met her serious gaze that matched her tone well. “Here is where we part ways,” 

She looked at Tally intently, focusing on the light in her eyes and the way her red hair framed her face so delicately. "Of course, thank you for doing this, Tally, you will be a great mother,"

Tally gave a short nod and flashed a slight smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Goodbye, General," 

There was no description fitting for the emptiness that settled deep into her. A heavy, all-encompassing feeling that threatened to drown her in its darkness as it spread out through every part of her.

She didn't cry, she didn't yell, but she drank. She drank with reckless abandon. Her soul felt fractured. Hours ago she had dismissed her biddies with a wave of her hand. Their attempts to be comforting only served to provoke her emotions until she was positively beside herself with this insatiable grief and frustration. It wasn't their fault, they tried to help, but there was nothing they could do; nothing anyone could do. 

Chapter Text

The third glass of amber since sitting again slid over her lips and down her throat with such ease that she may as well have been drinking water. 

Several minutes passed in silent agony. All but one of her biddies had returned to their seats, her will for them to stand aside overpowered them. Few things crossed her mind outside her intentional will to wallow in silent peace. The biddy that had defied her was tending to various housekeeping items, the remaining glass shards on the floor, now empty bottles of whiskey, and so on. Sarah paid her no mind, that was until she dared draw the curtains open again. 

"Leave them closed." Sarah snarled and covered her eyes. Even with the clouds she had incidentally brought into the sky minutes ago, the light that streamed in from the window behind her still stung in her eyes. 

"No. They have gone now, running from the rain you brought on. You have nothing more to fear from the outside." Annalise stated sternly.

Sarah reflexively scoffed. "I do not fear the outside," she muttered into her glass. 

"No. Perhaps not, but you do fear her, and as we put it so bluntly time and time again, you need to move on...or..." 

Sarah dragged her eyes up from the blank surface of her desk as Annalise trailed off. Some of her other biddies were shaking their heads, but she didn’t know what they were thinking. They were keeping something from her. "Or what? Does this discussion not only end with you telling me once again to move on?" Sarah said distrustfully looking across them. 

"Or you could... "Annalise continued.

"Annalise, don't. Do not encourage this self-destructive behavior." Marion interrupted forcefully.

"Am I encouraging it or are the rest of you?” Annalise hissed, eliciting a hiss in response from the others.

"If you ever thought of Tally's best interest, of Sarah's, or that of their child, you would cease this line of thinking. Too much has happened, too much time has passed. Should they not all be left in peace, or whatever version of peace they have found?” Marion challenged with a disdainful glance in Sarah's direction. "Does Tally not deserve that? Does baby Flora not deserve that?"

"Do they both not deserve more than that?" Annalise retorted bitterly, but Sarah was slow to catch up, her brain had been jarred painfully by some new information. Like a car going far too fast over a speed bump, she felt like she was going to lose control and crash. This was information she had long ago reserved herself never to learn. Yet here it was, they had spoken it into existence, she only need ask for them to repeat it. 

"What is her name?" Sarah found the words.

"None of you speak. She was there when we were told, she knows. Let her remember on her own." Marion glared at them all. 

"You know her name, General." Annalise put a hand on Sarah's shoulder.

 "She did drink more than a lot that day though, she may not..." Devon muttered. 

They have gotten so bold. Talking around her like she was not there, Sarah thought bitterly.

 "Flora. The child's name is Flora Craven." Annalise repeated finally, bringing Sarah out of her thoughts.

Sarah played with the name in her mind; silently rolling it over her tongue. Surely she would have remembered that, right? It was perfect. Saddened only by the fact she hadn't been an equal participant in its choosing, she was otherwise delighted to know it. Of course Tally would have chosen well, and she could only assume it fit the child. She had never actually seen the child close up so she could not be the judge of that, but it sounded like a beautiful name nonetheless. "No uhm…no middle name?" Her voice broke. They looked amongst each other, some of them shrugging. "I'm sorry ma'am. We don't know what it is." 

At least she knew more than before. A blessing or a curse, after the initial shock and delight faded, the new knowledge made the sting of regret burn more fiercely and the ache of longing settle deep in her chest. 

"What... What were you saying before this, Anna?" Sarah asked quietly. 

"Forgive me, but I was saying you should get off your pathetic butt and go get her back. You hate the Imperative anyway. There’s no other way to prove them wrong than to defy them. Or you will not only miss out on time spent with Tally and Flora more than you already have, but what will you do when the Imperative comes back in a decade? Will you go through this again? Subjecting yourself and those around you to this drunken suffering, over and over endlessly?" 

Sarah didn't answer, instead, Marion did. "Why now? Why today should Sarah do something? Tally gave her so many chances, so many opportunities. Anytime their paths crossed in the beginning, all the way up to the wedding and even beyond, but especially at the wedding. That was really the day she should have acted."

1 year and two weeks prior

There was a quiet knock on her office door, so quiet she could have been convinced she hadn't heard it at all. The hour was late, the building should have been mostly empty by now. 

Her scheduled meetings had been finished, her tasks complete until the coming day, and she was not expecting anyone. Truthfully no one should have expected her to be there either. 

“Enter” She commanded, curiously watching the door as one of her biddies slowly opened it. 

The first sight of red hair made her chest seize. “General-you're here, I apologize for the intrusion. Do- do you have a moment?” 

“For you, Cadet, always.” That was the most familiar she allowed herself to be. “Please, come in, sit down, may I offer you something to drink?”

“No thank you. I will only a take a moment. I had wanted to drop this off but I didn't expect you to be here actually. So…” Tally shifted between her feet and tapped her fingers on a small envelope clutched between them. “I- well, maybe I won't, actually-nevermind. Goodnight, General.” The girl rambled and stammered, Sarah couldn't help the slight grin on her face. 

Tally was quick though, she almost made it back to the door before Sarah spoke. “Craven.” The girl froze. “You didn't come all the way here to turn tail and leave without completing your purpose. Why did you come here? More importantly, why did you come here expecting me to not be here, in my own office?” 

Sarah would make this easy. She stood and stepped from behind her desk, holding out her hand. “You came to deliver this, I presume?” 

Tally nodded and inched closer back toward the desk. “Yes, that was my intention. I was going to leave it on your desk or with your assistant but…” she laughed nervously. “...here you are.”

“May I have it, then?” Sarah had not moved, as if doing so would scare her away, instead she watched Tally carefully. 

“Fine.” Tally conceded. “But please let me leave before you open it.” 

Sarah felt the tick cardstock within the envelope. There were only a few things this could be. “No, I don't think so Cadet, you are not dismissed.” She said absentmindedly slow, her attention now almost entirely on the paper in her hands. She carefully peeled back the flap that had been glued down.

Just the top edge, the tops of photos and elegant calligraphy, instant regret hit her. Dismissing Tally may have been the smarter move, but it was too late for that now. She slid the cardstock fully out of the envelope and held it tightly in her hands. ‘You're invited to the union of families Shelbark and Craven’ was written in swirly letters, laid over a color photo of Tally and that boy. Had Tally not been there, there was no telling what reaction she would have had, but as the girl stood mere feet from here, she had to maintain a certain level of composure. 

“I-uh-congratulations first off, Ta-Craven.” She corrected herself quickly. “But secondly, are you sure you would like me to attend? This is an event for you and your family. I'm not sure it would be…” 

Tally didn't let her finish. “If you don't want to go, just say so. I wanted you to be there, but no. Like I said before, nevermind. You're busy. I was being…” 

“I will be there.” There was no more thought on the matter, she committed herself to going because…because Tally was here right now and she couldn't say no to her. 

A small smile graced Tally's lips, it didn't meet her eyes, but Sarah couldn't read her. “I'm glad. Well, I will leave you alone now, not alone, I suppose. Ladies.” She nodded at the biddies before she turned back to Sarah. “But I will stop bothering you. Goodnight, General.” 

She nodded and watched her walk away, closing the door behind her. “Goodnight, Tally.” She whispered to herself. 

Almost immediately after the door clicked shut, she collapsed into her chair with her fullest bottle of whiskey. Tally standing immediately before her was enough of a reason to stay calm, but now alone again she saw no reason whatsoever. 

Resentment for her past weakness that allowed them to arrive at this point ate at her resolve until one glass of whiskey became three and then seven, and mumbled curses became shouts and screams of agony, and all but one of her glasses found their way to being broken onto the floor. 

Two weeks later

She could hardly stand still. Her hands were clasped together behind her back and her jaw was clenched such that she could have broken her teeth. She had not drunk nearly enough before arriving at this event. In hindsight, she should have forced each of her biddies to take a shot with her first. Then again maybe that would have made standing still all the more difficult. Perhaps the amber would have eroded her composer, deepened the cracks in her will, and compelled her to speak things she committed herself never to utter. 

She was there as a formality. It wasn't even necessary and that may have been the worst part, she did it to herself. Goddess knew she didn't want to be there or did she. Did she want to see the woman she loved so much be bound to another? If for nothing more than to confirm that she herself could close the door on the insane idea that they could have been together if she had only acted on it. Perhaps if she didn't see it in person, she would never believe it, never accept it. So in a way she needed to be there, or so she had managed to convince herself prior.

Watching the smiling faces that surrounded her, her stomach roiled and flipped. This was torture of a kind she had rarely experienced, one she could certainly do without experiencing more of. 

More simplistic than her desire to suffer and need for closure though, Tally had actually invited her which made her laugh at the cruel irony of it all. 

Her reaction to her invitation was not exactly fit for any audience after Tally left. The wards soundproofing her office walls came in handy that evening, and an increasing number of evenings since. Between the curses and the shattered glass, she was lucky she wasn't interrupted by anyone else, specifically anyone with the ability to relieve her of her duty. That very well could have been the last night of her command. All could have been willingly tossed away because of these feelings for this girl and their unborn child, and her inability to easily follow the agreement she herself signed. 

At the end of that fit of rage, her biddies near forced her to step away from the base for a few nights, insisting she take a trip to literally anywhere else in the country. Conduct a few surprise inspections of some of their lesser manned bases to take her mind off it all. When she was calm, she could return.

The calm did not find her, but she returned anyway. She arrived back at Fort Salem the evening before the ceremony to further avoid giving herself time to ponder and dwell on it, and even less time to act on it.  

So here she stood, nails biting into her palms, relaxing only ever so slightly as she caught sight of Tally. The girl was stunning beyond compare. Her breath caught in her throat.

Tally’s red locks were braided and pinned up, and she had a dusting of makeup that highlighted her already bright cheeks and soft looking lips. Her white dress hung off her shoulder and was tailored to flow smoothly and elegantly over the small protruding bump of her belly. 

Sarah had to remind herself that it was only a five year commitment for which Tally and the child would have to endure this man. Unless Tally decided to keep him around, that was. 

She shuddered internally at the mere thought. 

“General, would you like to give your blessing of this union?” The officiant, a member of the imperative, asked her pointedly. She honestly had not been prepared to speak, but she should have been. How often was it really that she was not asked to speak at least a few words at events like this? While she didn’t often attend weddings, when she did, saying a few words was a guarantee, it was just part of her job at this point. Today, she was not prepared though. 

She cleared her throat and stepped forward. “Yes, yes of course. If I may?” The officiant nodded. What was she going to say? What did she say at the last one? Did it matter, this was different, entirely different. She focused only on the idea of Tally, but she did not meet her eye, instead, she swept her gaze and addressed the audience. 

“I do give my blessing to the union of these two young witches. The future is bright for them both, they are highly skilled, with so much potential that you can practically feel it in the air us.” She took a breath. The audience was mostly smiling, crying, or nodding along, except Tally. Sarah made the fateful mistake of landing squarely on Tally’s face. Tally’s lips smiled, but her eyes said she was disappointed.

The girl's expression disarmed her and she struggled to find more words until she crowbarred her eyes away. “I uh- well I mean look at them, I personally cannot see any reason whatsoever to condemn this match. Let them be wed and let us celebrate their union on this joyous day. May the goddess watch over you both.” There was much boot stomping that followed, but notably, Tally did not join in.

Alder sighed, no longer in the spotlight and everything she could have said hit her. That had been her chance, her chance to change this in the way that she wanted, in the way they both wanted. She could see the discontent in Tally’s eyes and yet she still couldn’t do it. 

The ceremony was over before she knew it everyone around her was clapping joyously, out of obligation she put her hands together politely. 

The couple shared a chaste kiss so quick it had barely even happened, but that instant scorched her eyes. If it had lasted any longer she wouldn't have had the strength to stop herself from turning away. 

Tally's radiant smile faltered ever so slightly when Sarah locked eyes with her again. Sarah couldn't have been sure she had seen a hint of perhaps sorrow, perhaps anger, or perhaps something else entirely in the girl's eyes, but if she had, it disappeared just as fast. The boy beside her took her attention back and Tally turned away, their eyes not meeting again that evening.

Sarah left almost immediately after she considered enough time had passed to not be considered impolite. There was nothing in her that could compel her to stay for the reception, rather she elected to return to the sanctuary of her office. There was whiskey there after all. The combination of silence, warm amber, and the singular company of her biddies allowed her to, in great agonising detail, lament the life she had condemned Tally and their child to live. Every painful moment thus far when any intervention on her part could have put them both o n a better path, tortured her until she was out of whiskey yet again and forced to retire for the evening. 

Chapter Text

“You're right, she should have acted long ago, but better late than never, for everyone's sake. How long do you expect she could go on leading the army like this?” Annalise shot back at Marion who just huffed. 

Sarah had had enough of this. “Stop it. Stop. Both of you.” 

“Yes ma'am.” They all answered internally. 

There really was nothing to consider. Taking any action on their suggestion seemed impossible. The consequences were too great should it go poorly. Even if it somehow did not at first go badly, it soon would as there would be no way to keep it from the Imperative. The strife she would potentially be inflicting on Tally and on Flora was not something she wanted to risk. 

“Wouldn't it be better to try?” Annalise spoke again. “If Tally says no, that is one thing and you are no worse tomorrow than you are today. But if she says yes, think of how your life could be. We all know you’ve thought about it before.” She spoke directly to Alder.

“You are being irrational, Anna. For the last time, let this go. If Tally says yes, there are so many issues. You have the binding contract with the Imperative, you have Tally's binding contract with Shelbark, and that doesn’t even take into consideration how jarring it would be for the child.” Marion argued pointedly. 

Sarah couldn’t say she hadn’t thought about it before. How could she not have. Everyday she wished things could have been different, but to act on it was something she had thus far been able to hold herself back from. Both sides of the argument were familiar to her. The pros and cons of going back on her word constantly fought a raging battle within her from the moment Tally marched into her office with the signed agreement. 

“Oh please Marion. The child would not remember anything different, she is still so young.” Devon added. 

“And what of when she grows older? Being recognized as the General’s daughter could have damaging effects on her as well.” Marion hissed. “Let us not forget how the pressures got to her previous child when she came of age.”

“Who’s side are you on? What happened with Nicte’s daughter was not Sarah’s fault. The Imperative is being unreasonable at this point for holding it over her. Nurture can only go so far, especially when one parent is so obviously not suited for it. Sarah was nothing if not the attentive parent in that instance.” Devon snapped bitterly. “Just as a child should not be liable for the crimes of their parents, when children are grown, parents should not be liable for their crimes either.” 

Sarah leaned forward against the desk, head in her hands. The mere thought of the tragedy that was her youngest biological daughter, made her chest ache. “Let this matter rest, I beg you all.” Sarah spoke aloud in a strained mumble. It had all been resolved 50 years ago when her daughter had been tried and convicted for treason and terrorism. The girl had only been 25 and was already capable of so much evil. 

They all fell silent, but still Sarah knew they weren't done. After barely a moment, Annalise’s voice ended the thoughtful pause. "Moral of the story is that Sarah isn't a bad parent. The other children raised openly by her turned out fine, letting the imperative get away with this isn't right. Why not do something if she is this upset about it?! It isn't too late!" 

"It is too late! They already got away with it and Sarah stood by and let them!" Marion yelled. "She didn't move a muscle when Tally signed the contract. She didn't lift a finger at the wedding, and she didn't bat an eye when Tally came in here begging and crying for her. She encouraged her to go through with all of this over and over again and for what?!" Marion wasn't wrong. That was just another opportunity that came and went with no action on her part to change. 

Spiralling back into the memory, she didn't even register the next cruelly honest words from her biddy, but she felt the cold emotion they carried nonetheless.

10 months earlier…

“General, Mrs Shelbark is here to see you," Her admin assistant poked her head through the door. 

"Send her in.” By the way all the biddies stopped their tasks and were paying attention, she should have known better than to answer without thinking, a mistake. A grave grave mistake on her part. In her denial and sharp refusal to accept their marriage, she had never associated her with that name. Seeing it on her schedule, she didn't think twice about it. She should have. 

The realization didn't snap into her mind until she saw the woman before her. Red hair still framed her face, slightly flushed cheeks, and now with the new addition of the unmistakable swell of her belly. 

It took all of her strength not to stare, not to imagine the life they could have had, not to imagine how she would have cared for her through this and after. This had to be a short meeting, otherwise the dam containing all of her feelings on the matter would break and the cadet did not deserve that.

"I'm sorry, I really did ask her to use my first name but she said it was unprofessional," Tally shrugged and walked unevenly over to the desk. "Mmm," the girl winced, pausing briefly in her step. 

Sarah felt her heart pounding in her chest.

"Sorry, someone is restless and has quite the kick, mmm," 

Seeing the grimace of apparent pain or at least discomfort on the woman's face kicked her into high gear and she sprang up rather abruptly. "Allow me to assist you." She stepped around the desk and offered Tally her hand. 

"No don't touc-" It was too late. Whatever the cadet was going to say turned into a mumbled gasp the instant Sarah wrapped an arm around her and grabbed her bare hand to support her down into the chair.

The redhead froze. Her brown eyes glazed over with a ghostly white hue for just a moment. 

Like she was burned, Sarah released her and Tally's eyes reverted back to normal immediately. Though they quickly welled with unshed tears. 

Sarah watched on helplessly, not sure if she should stay beside her or give her more space. 

"Sarah?" 

The General had never heard her first name uttered from those lips. It vibrated in a shiver across her whole body, over every nerve, and she could feel the goosebumps rise on her skin. "I am here, Tally.” She knelt down in front of her, careful not to touch her again. "Are you alright?" 

Tally swallowed thickly and shook her head, inadvertently freeing some of those tears from her eyes. "No.” Tally sobbed into her hands. 

"What just happened? What can I do?" She was at a loss. 

"I saw- I saw-," Tally slowly brought her eyes up from her hands, they were puffy and red. The longer Sarah looked into them the more lost she became, and she noticed the smaller things. How the sunlight almost gave her irises a golden hue, the depth of the black pools in the center, the dark rings of exhaustion that bordered them in their entirety. "Nevermind," Tally cleared her throat and took a breath. "That's not what I came here for," Sarah leaned back, bewildered, and still concerned for what she'd just witnessed. "ow. That was a strong one. Do you-" Sarah's stomach did a flip, but she would not dare assume. "Do you want to feel?" 

"Craven, I don't- well I don't want to trigger another event.” She said quietly, but yes more than everything she wanted it, despite the very real possibility that it would be the end of her resolve. 

Tally shook her head with a small sad smile. "The clothes are enough to prevent it, don't worry.” 

Carefully, not quite trusting Tally's word on it, she slowly inched her hand closer but she didn't dare touch her. "Here." Tally placed her own hand on Sarah's forearm, over her jacket, and guided her hand over the place where her baby had kicked her most recently. "There - mhmm. You had to feel that." 

She had. The small thump against her hand had nearly startled her, but she didn't flinch. She was too focused on trying to keep herself composed. "Life is a precious thing, Craven, you should be very proud.” 

Tally scoffed. “I haven't done anything yet, I'll be proud when I have my body back, and this little creature gets out of me." 

"A common sentiment, or so I've heard.” Sarah stood again about to return to her own chair, to allow the distance to be firmly placed between them again where it belonged, but Tally's grip on her arm stopped her. 

"No, sit here, by me. Please.” 

Sarah paused, but those eyes held her in her place. Silently she obliged with a nod.

"So tell me, what can I do for you?" 

Tally looked down at her hands that rested on her stomach. "I don't know." 

"You must have a reason, afterall you scheduled this meeting almost a week ago." As she said it, she hadn't realized it had been looming on her schedule for that long. 

The girl had a blank expression. "I don't know. General, I'm sorry, I just- I don't know what to say? I thought I would know when I got here, but I've been feeling so many things. Maybe it's just the pregnancy itself, the power of the child making me think and feel things I know I shouldn't. Maybe I just needed to see you? Maybe I wanted to give you one last chance to be part of this child's life? Maybe I wanted to look you in the eyes again and ask if you are sure you didn't make a mistake in choosing me? Over the months there has been a lot on my mind, but most of all- I think I'm not ready for this and I don't know what I was thinking agreeing to this!" She sounded near hysterical by the end and if Sarah could have soothed her in any way she would have, but she was bound by the contract she signed and by the promise she made when they began this. 

"Your thoughts are valid, Tally.” She started in a formal tone. "But you could not be further from the truth. You are strong enough for this on your own, you are capable, and I know you have the support of your friends and that of your - husband. You do not need me for this. You are afraid now that you have come so far and gotten so close. Everything is about to change for you once again, but I know you are ready for it.” 

The girl's eyes were wet. "But what if I don't want to do it without you. I thought I could, but everyday closer I get to meeting this little angel, the more I feel sorry for them, that they will never know you like I have." 

"Then they will be blessed." On that issue Sarah felt strongly and had no problem letting her know it. 

"You're wrong.” 

Sarah stood and rounded her desk. This is the way it had to be. She needed the physical barrier, the tangible distance. She felt desperate to tell the imperative to screw off, to tell them they had no right to keep her from her child, but she was not that strong. The weight of the past pressed on her and told her she could not give in. She could not afford to be so selfish. Tally's child did not deserve her influence, no matter what the girl herself said or thought. "I am sorry I cannot give you what you seek.” 

"And what if something were to happen to me and my husband and our child was left an orphan. Would you step in then?" 

Sarah was silent. That was an eventuality she would not allow herself to fathom. "No." she said reflexively in denial that it was a possibility rather than that she would take no action but the answer served her the same. 

Tally nodded shortly. "I see." 

"The chances are so low, I do not see why my promise of potential involvement is necessary."

"It isn't necessary, but then again, the chances aren't so low are they?" Tally eyed her intently. "Afterall, witches die everyday. Old, young, on the field of battle, or here at home in tragic accidents. It doesn't hurt to have a back up plan, but I understand your position. I felt the need to clarify considering that eventuality was not clearly defined in the documentation.”

"I'm glad I was able to assist in clearing that up. We will have that verbiage added to the contract for the future of this initiative.” Sarah said through gritted teeth. No part of her wanted to endure this torment again. Why did it have to be so difficult? “I did not make a mistake choosing you. You're going to be fine.” 

“You're unbelievable. I don't know what I was thinking coming here.” Tally rolled her eyes. 

A sigh escaped her. “You are always welcome here.” 

Tally stood. “Save it.” 

Should she bother reminding her she was still in charge? That felt like it would only drive Tally further away, not that there was much further away she could get at this point. 

The door closed behind Tally before she could think to say anything else.

Chapter Text

Rarely could she block them out, and only when she was extremely focused did their voices almost fade to the background. Now was one of those rare times when the combination of alcohol, exhaustion, frustration, and vivid memories temporarily blurred and distorted their voices into a white noise. It did not last longer than the few moments she spent dwelling on the last time Tally sat before her. Still their voices were raised, Annalise and Marion continued to go at it. 

"Both of you, will you stop this?!" Devon interjected. "We all know she's conflicted, you personifying that conflict and making it an external issue is clearly not helping, I mean look at what your arguing has done to her." 

Lifting her head out of her hands that rested on her desk, she glared at the biddy. "Say that again. Say again how terrible and sullen I appear. Why not? It isn't as if there is a shred of respect in this office." 

Devon was silent. 

"That's what I thought." Sarah grumbled and leaned back in her chair. "So did you solve all that ails me then? Have we reached a conclusion so this matter can be buried and we can all move on from it?! I'd much like to forget today had ever happened, and if you must get it out of your systems so it need not happen again, then please, I swear I will hear each of your opinions on the matter, and then never again. Clear?" 

Marion and Annalise stood opposed to each other, Devon stood in the middle. The other four who had until now mostly remained out of it, stood along the back wall.

"Well..." She drawled. 

No one immediately spoke as she swept her gaze over each of them. As this was clearly going to drag on, she decided to pour herself a fresh glass of whiskey. They all watched her until she returned to her chair, glass and bottle in hand. "I've heard enough from Marion and Annalise, their views are known to me. The rest of you. Elaine, Lianna, Rosali, and April, where do you stand?" 

The four of them shuffled uncomfortably, looking to the other three for help, but there was none. "Elaine, you first. Do you agree with Marion or Annalise?"

The woman's eyes lowered to the floor in obvious submission. Sarah's palm connected with the table, the four biddies jumped at the sound. "I do not want this to come up again, so spit it out. Elaine. Now."  

The woman sighed. "I think Annalise is not being realistic about Tally's feelings. You've already openly rejected her so many times. It feels insensitive to suggest making any move to reverse course." 

Sarah did not respond, instead, she looked to the next woman. "Lianna? Thoughts?" 

"Who does it hurt if you take Anna's advice?" She paused to take a breath. "Tally maybe. Her husband, but that's not a real concern, I suppose. I agree you have openly rejected her too many times, but if your heart has been telling you all this time to be with her, then I think you should try, or things will only get worse until it becomes something you no longer have the power to change." 

Was it wrong she was actually hearing what they were suggesting and that she wanted to listen? Still she was determined that her final judgement would be that she take no action. Until the last of them spoke their mind though, she would refrain from saying such things. Instead, she sipped on the whiskey and nodded to the next woman. 

Rosali had always been fairly reserved and her nerves showed in another quiet glance toward her comrades, again met with no aid. "It is a tough call, ma'am. Neither side seems inherently right or wrong... as in they both have merit." 

Sarah wasn't playing this game. "Choose a side, Rosali." 

"Right, well then I agree with Annalise. This ongoing issue has impaired your ability to perform your duties and if talking to Tally is what you need, then you should. Even if nothing but a sense of closure comes from it. I fear if you don't, the pain it causes you will continue to diminish your capabilities." 

"How blunt." Sarah muttered into her glass. 

April didn't need to be told it was her turn. Rosali's sentiments had hardly vanished from the air before she began. "General. Like the others, I tend to believe you need to reach out to her to at least get it out of your system if nothing else. On the other hand, the suffering you've felt on account of your own actions is what you deserve." 

Sarah's grip tightened around the now empty glass, and she tapped it impatiently on the desk's surface, but April didn't stutter. "You have a lot of ground to make up if you do reach out. Further if you do, you need to do it the right way keeping in mind how the imperative will react, and being sensitive to Tally's needs as well." 

"I can't believe this. Have none of you any thought or care for Tally? April said it best. Sarah deserves every bit of this pain and suffering." Marion scolded them while Annalise looked pretty smug. 

"Yes, Sarah messed up big time, but as long as both Tally and the child are alive, it isn't too late for her to try to be part of their lives. And since the majority agrees with..." 

"Devon, you have not made your opinion clear. Enlighten us." Sarah spoke pointedly, stopping Annalise in her tracks. There was only one answer she wanted to hear, but she knew Devon has always been typically utilitarian when it has come to her decision making and problem solving. Unease settled in her gut while she waited for Devon's response. 

"You can't talk to Tally ma'am..." Sarah's heart dropped, but she would accept it as she intended. "That is, not until you find a way to deal with the imperative and the contract. There has to be a way to get out of it, something we haven't thought of, something in the fine print, something they didn't think of."

That had to be the most productive thing any of them had to say, and yet it was nothing she had not thought of before. Not that she deserved to be free of it, she didn't, and she certainly didn't deserve to be involved in Tally or Flora's lives. 

'It will mean nothing if Tally is no longer open to your involvement." Marion seemed to continuously have negative things to say, but reasonably in this she was inescapably correct. There was no reason Tally should want her to be involved. 

Once again her elbows hit her desk and she caught her head in her hands, letting out a frustrated sigh. She was still stuck in this paradox of wanting to reach out to Tally, but not wanting to give Tally or herself false hope, wanting to deal with the imperatrix but not wanting to bother if it wasn't something Tally wanted anymore. One had to happen first, but offering Tally something she might not be able to give didn't feel better than taking the time to weasel out of the contract without Tally's consent. So she was considering it after all, but nothing eased her sense of self loathing that ate at her. What right did she have to involve herself in this? 

And all the while it weighed on her that every minute she continued to wallow in her misery and debate about what was right or wrong, what she did or didn't deserve, was another minute she was potentially not spending with them. Time she'd never get back. There were already so many things she missed. Moments that were gone, taken from her. Moments she gave away because she believed what the imperative said of her, that she was the evil influence that corrupted her previous daughter. Her belief in those sentiments didn't disappear, but for the first time they faded to the back seat. 

Xxxxxxx

Six months ago…

"What is it Izadora?" Alder drawled. For a Monday morning, it had been particularly tiring. She had barely slept, there was an incessant pounding in her head, and the endless barrage of meetings ahead of her made her want to run for the hills. Not only scheduled meetings, but unscheduled as well apparently. She had stepped out for no more than ten minutes, just to stretch her legs, and upon her return, Izadora was waiting at her door. 

“Come in please, what can I do for you?” She stepped around the other woman and found her place again behind her at her desk. 

"I am here to inform you that the child was born over the weekend." That couldn't be right. Craven wasn't due for another… how long had it been? Surely it was clear on her face that she didn't comprehend. It was a good thing she was already sitting down.

"The child, ma'am, Mrs. Shelbark’s child. Tally Shelbark. You specifically requested to be kept informed," 

The wind was knocked out of her as if she'd been windstruck by the information being thrown at her. "W-When?" She couldn't breathe, let alone formulate more of a response.

"Saturday evening.” 

"Uh- well- and- are they-" She couldn't settle on what she wanted to know, what she needed to know first.

The scientist nodded though. "Yes, both mother and daughter are doing well.”  

"Daughter.” Sarah mouthed breathlessly. Of course, she only ever had daughters, but still it was something to behold. Everything she had felt today until this moment seemed so inconsequential. Her imagination ran with that bare amount of detail, trying to picture how the infant looked, what traits she had. In her mind’s eye, the child appeared to closely resemble Tally’s best features, her chocolatey eyes, but in reality she had no idea. Goddess forbid the child favor her own side, that would be not unfortunate, but she imagined Tally was a cuter baby than she was. 

"Yes, Mrs Shelbark had a daughter. She’s a little underweight but healthy." 

"Underweight?! By how much? Will she be alright?" 

Never before had she been absent from the birth of her child, and hearing about possible complications was almost too much for her.  

Her eyes blurred at the thought. 

“I did say healthy, ma’am. The child will be fine.” 

As she felt the tears sting in her eyes, mourning the loss of that moment and everything that has been and would be, she turned away and stood looking out over the base. The sun was thankfully overcast and didn't shine in her eyes as she tried to blink the wetness out of existence and scrub it before it impacted her ability to speak. “What…what does she look like?” 

“Hair to match Tally’s, ma’am, I guess you have some red hair somewhere in your ancestry.” 

Sarah tried to muffle her sob with a laugh at suggestion, but it didn't sound quite convincing even to her own ears. “Yes, yes I suppose I might.” Still blinking furiously, there was nothing she could do but wipe the fresh tears away with the palms of her hands. “What else?” 

“Well the rest of her features will become more distinct with age I’m sure, however, her eyes are a nice bright blue to match someone else’s that I know.” 

“Goddess forgive me.” Sarah muttered. Not that she’d have an opportunity to see those eyes, but she had so hoped in the back of her mind for them to be brown. 

“I’m afraid there is not much else I can tell you.” 

Sarah nodded slowly, taking another inhale, drying the last of the streaks from her face. “I appreciate your diligence. One more thing, has a name been chosen?” 

“Per the imperative, you know I cannot tell you that.” Izadora said pointedly. 

“You know I will find out eventually.” Sarah warned, her voice low. 

“Yes, but…well, I don't know it, myself.” The scientist admitted. “But I do have this. When I did a check up on them this morning before stopping by, I was asked to deliver this.” Sarah turned around now. 

Izadora held out a small white envelope. 

Taking it, Sarah flipped it in her hands, it was sealed shut. “From Tally?” 

Izadora responded with a nod. 

“If that is all, Izadora, thank you.” Slowly, she sat down as Izadora left, shutting the door with a click behind her. 

She sat and stared at the envelope in her hands for a good long while until she set it down. Paced. Found some whiskey. Paced some more. Placed it in a drawer. Stared through blurry eyes out the window. Paced. Cried. Pulled herself together for a meeting with Petra. Let herself fall apart again. Paced. Picked herself up to have a meeting with two other generals. Fell apart again. Drank some more whiskey. Didn't pull herself together for her meeting with Anacostia. Deflected the barrage of questions as best she could until Anacostia reached the conclusion that Tally's child was the subject of her strife. She sent Anacostia on her way, and spiraled further and further, until she was on her second bottle of whiskey. 

Near collapsed in the chair by the cold fireplace, she held the tiny envelope in one hand and the bottle of whiskey in the other. 

By this point her biddies could only watch her implosion in horror and despair. 

She gulped down more of the whiskey, leaving the new bottle nearly empty already. Barely capable of opening the envelope, she proceeded to black out and no part of her was able to absorb the information that she so desperately wanted to know. The information that was right in front of her. 

The envelope contained a picture of the infant with her blue eyes open under which, written in Tally’s delicate handwriting, was the child's name.

Flora Alder Craven. 

When she’d eventually wake, there would be no sign of the envelope or photo. Not for lack of looking, but in her hungover stupor, her biddies gave away nothing of what they did with it.