《Displacement》Ch 84 [Qc]
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Leah Armande finds herself floating in a void. Unlike the last time, she can’t quite manage to design a room. No matter how hard she focuses, the space remains dark, expansive and empty and lukewarm, slightly terrifying but mainly cowing. She waits.
Eventually another person pops into existence, a little ways off. “Hey!” Leah calls to them, and they turn to face her; the muscular, scarred body she had come to know so well.
“Leah?” Talesh says, sounding wary. “It hasn’t even been a day, what’s up?”
“Listen, I know it was my idea for us to switch back, but I just…” Leah Armande takes a few shaky steps through the void, approaching Talesh. “I came back because I thought my parents deserved their daughter, and because I felt I owed it to my…my legacy, I guess, not that I have one. There’s nothing that binds me to this world anymore, and that’s okay. You turned my life into an enormous lie; one I cannot live.”
Talesh laughs. Not the response Armande had been expecting, but she tries not to be insulted by it. “Oh, you think I ruined your life?” Talesh scoffs. “I read your note in my diary, by the way; great job not ruining things for me. I’m currently the guest-slash-prisoner of a pretender-lord!”
“He’s not a pretender-lord! He’s a Thane and he’s a cool dude and he’s my friend and I want him back.”
Talesh freezes, her mouth open as though to continue the argument. “Huh?”
“Don’t you feel it too?” Armande spreads her hands helplessly. “I thought I wanted to go home. I really thought it. But I miss the people I met in your world. It’s been less than a day, and the thought of never seeing them again in my life kills me!”
Talesh wavers. “I’ve talked with Kain, a bit,” she says haltingly. “And I spent a lot of time thinking on my own, about how I could move on, but I kept coming back to…God, I just left Gloria, no goodbye.”
“I was barely getting by, in my original life. I could have made something of myself, eventually, I’m sure of it. But then I was ripped away and thrown into a fascinating new world, where I was a person who mattered.”
Talesh nods. “I understand, and I’m glad I’m not the only one – although I’m not the one who pulled me away from my awesome new home in the first place.” She drops to the ‘ground’ in a casual slouch, legs loosely crossed. Armande, after a moment, joins her. Talesh rubs her palms on her knees a few times before continuing. “I liked being anonymous, for once; no expectations on my shoulders, no horrific consequences if I failed, no-one caring about my behaviour. The isolation of a city was a relief. I’m tired of mattering; I just want to be a person.”
“Well, here’s the problem we’re in,” Armande says. “You’ve fucked up my life right royally, and I don’t feel good leaving you to fuck it up some more. So here’s what we’re going to try to do.” She rubs her hands together and takes Talesh’s head between them. “Go on, go on, you too.” Talesh, confused, mimics the pose. “We’re going to equip each other.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“That’s okay, it’s all improvised anyway. I just want you to be able to navigate this world with some better lies than what you came up with.”
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“Fair.”
“To begin with,” Armande frowns in concentration. “French.”
“Huh? Oh good God – ”
Armande’s mind shudders under the weight of the sudden shift. “Did it work?”
Talesh blinks, obviously reeling. “Comment avez-vous faites ça?”
“Oh that’s fucking weird. I know I should understand it, but I have no idea what you just said.”
“Bizarre…”
“Can you still speak Volsti?”
“English? Yes, it seems so.”
Armande nods. “Okay, next up: tax returns.”
Another shudder as her mind lightens.
“Oh man, give a girl a chance to prepare,” Talesh grumbles. “It’s getting crowded in my head.”
“Well then, lighten the load.”
“Huh?”
“Give me something. See if it works both ways. It’s Bitter Dream, we should be able to access memories pretty easily.”
“Oh, uh…”
Armande is nearly floored under the weight of a whole new language, dropped into her head.
“Algic? You gave me Algic?!”
“Yeah, well, I won’t be using it anymore, will I?”
“But it’s your culture.”
“And French isn’t yours?”
“Oof…heavy question.”
“Why?”
“Here, lemme…”
They both shudder again, and Talesh nods sagely. “Wow…what a mess.”
Armande laughs. “I can’t remember the details, but I know that’s the truth.”
“What next?”
Armande shrugs. “Bank account password and security questions, how to use email, how to wash clothing, what Christmas is, what Halloween is, how to use social media…although, I’d advise you to not ever be active in any of my old group chats, unless you want to have to live up to their scrutiny as well.”
“Huh?” Talesh shudders as the transfer takes place. “Oh…well for that matter, let me give you foraging, the Algic prayers, riding, horse care, tack care, and fighting.”
“I don’t really want to fight, actually. It’s not my thing.”
“Well it’s not my thing either, anymore. Tell you what: I’ll keep jousting and wrestling, and you get the rest.”
Armande tilts her head. “Sounds fair.” They do the swap.
Talesh brushes her hands clean, symbolically. “That’s all I can think of.”
“Same here. Which brings us to the hard part.” Armande drops her hands from Talesh’s head.
“Oh?”
“Uncomfortable truths.”
“What does that mean?”
“The tarot cards said you needed to come clean about a lie.”
Talesh blinks, taken aback. “Seriously? Okay, um…I assumed it meant the lie to my teammates, how I’d run away from them because I didn’t want to admit that I was tired of adventuring.”
“Well, tarot’s sort of bullshit, and I’m working on a looser definition here. I think you need to confess to your coworkers.”
“About what?”
“Uh, about not being an immigrant adoptee from Morocco?”
Talesh shakes her head ruefully. “I know, I’m not proud of that one. I could have done better if I’d done my research first.”
“Leah, that’s not the problem here.”
Talesh shoots her a scathing look. “Fine, don’t take a joke.” She sighs. “Alright. How do I confess to that lie?”
Armande reaches out a hand, which Talesh takes only after a long hesitation. “I’m here to help. And I’m very sorry, Talesh, but it might end with Gloria dumping you.”
“What? Then no, I won’t!”
Armande rolls her eyes and sighs. “Would you rather have to refuse to introduce her to your family because she’d ask the wrong questions? Would you rather she dump you a year from now when she inevitably discovers the lie? You’re a good actress, by all accounts, but you’ve built a lie too big.”
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“But…”
“I’m here to help. I can coach you through what you have to tell her, but it’ll be up to you to remember it all, so pay attention. And best to do this in person, so like, text her to meet up tomorrow.”
“But…” Talesh takes a deep breath and shakes out her arms. “Okay. What’s your advice?”
*
Leah Talesh jolts awake in the field. The sunset colours make the grass look iridescent and alien. The tiny red ghost of a rat stares at her, then fades into nothingness. She looks around at the assorted supplies, and begins scrubbing off all trace of the runes and other symbols drawn onto her skin.
*
Gloria meets her in the dog park, wearing loose and comfortable clothing. She kisses Leah on the cheek, and they sit on a wooden slat bench. Leah hands over her coffee order.
“They didn’t have brown sugar,” Leah says apologetically.
“That’s fine, it’s not a big taste difference.” She takes a sip. “So what’s the big news?”
Leah stirs her coffee with the little wooden stick. “I had a heart-to-heart with a friend, recently, and I realised that I’d been doing something really mean.”
“Oh?”
“It’s not a mental health thing, not really, it’s just…I had graduated but I couldn’t get a job in my trade, and I was feeling trapped in my life, and I’d lost contact with so many old friends, and just…life was shit, for a little bit, and I felt like shit. So I made up a character.”
Gloria’s face runs through series of expressions, from shocked to sympathetic to uncertain.
Leah tucks her arms in against her sides. “I wanted to be something unique and cool and memorable, so that I could feel unique and cool and memorable. Gloria, I wasn’t adopted, I’m not from Morocco, I can speak French although not super well, and I’m not a compulsive liar, I swear, I just got a little carried away in the story I was building.”
Gloria stares her down, coffee forgotten. “Alors t’as toujours compris tous les choses que les clients ont dit, envers toi?”
“Quand j’ai pu leur entendre, oui, mais la musique est forte en calice dans le club.” Leah takes a sip, staring at the pigeons around a nearby tree. “I didn’t expect it to be a permanent situation; that much is very true. I thought I’d be there for a month or so, until something better came along, or until I’d had my fun little vacation from reality and I could go back to my old life. Instead I…I really liked this new world. Not the fake persona I made to fit it, she was awful, but the people she’d let me meet were wonderful.”
“So when Tiff said she thought she knew you…?”
Leah squirms. “Yeah; we took a couple classes together, so long ago I barely remembered but even so. I didn’t have an escape route planned – what were the odds someone would recognise me, in a city this size? – so I just lied outright. That was rude of me, denying that I knew her just to hold up a dumb facade. I owe her an apology, too…but I owe you one most of all.” Silence takes over for a while after she finishes, broken by wind-carried garbage skittering across the sidewalk and the cooing of pigeons.
“So now what?” Gloria asks, taking another sip. “I’m not angry, by the way. It sort of sounded like a lie, and I always assumed it would turn out to be one. Just a vibe, I guess. Was it all a lie?”
“Not all. I’d sincerely never seen Star Wars, although I did sort of know the twists were coming.”
“Hmm.” Gloria swirls the cup. “Never tell Tonya; they’d be devastated.”
Leah chuckles. “Noted.”
“What about everyone else from work? Are you going to tell them?”
“Well, here’s the thing I came up with,” Leah says, shuffling to half-face Gloria. “You know how all the girls have their stage personas, separate from real life? Different name, different personality, different back-story? I could make this mine.”
Gloria smirks. “It could use some workshopping, no offence.”
“None taken; I’d be glad of any advice.”
“Well.” Gloria shrugs. “Not the date I was expecting, but sure. Want to start right now?”
“Have you already got something?”
“You should be European.” Leah laughs, and Gloria shakes her head, waving a finger critically. “No, hear me out; you should be Portuguese, or something like that. Second or third generation immigrant, so you don’t have the language anymore, but you still have the personality. We’ll find you a name, something cute and hard to pronounce so you can giggle when customers can’t get it right.”
Leah raises her hands at that. “Well hey now, I’m just a bartender, I’m not one of the showgirls. Let’s not put too much on my plate.”
“You can handle it,” Gloria says with a smirk and a side-arm hug.
Leah leans into the hug and sighs. “You’re really not mad?”
“I’m really not.” Gloria kisses her shoulder. “It sorta reminds me of when I made Amber. I went through a bunch of personas before I reached her. I was the buxom blonde: I did surfer girl stuff, playboy bunny stuff, blue-eyed jazz stuff. Some of them were really popular, and brought in way more money than ‘Amber’ does. But they made me feel icky. Amber at least…I like Amber. I feel if Amber were a real person, we could be friends. She still only exists because other people find her appealing, but I found her sort of appealing too. I’d like to be the nerdy girl who lets loose after a couple beers – not all the time, but sometimes. And I guess that’s what you were doing, too. I bet you never imagined yourself working at a strip club before you made that character.” She pokes Leah in the ribs.
“Very true,” Leah says with a smile. “And I think with a bit of work I might even be able to step in and out of this…Portuguese?…character. She might become a fun new face, instead of a half-assed disguise that fools no-one.”
“Not no-one,” Gloria says with a pout. “I’m sure Michel is going to be shocked to discover you’re not from the Middle East.”
Leah laughs so hard she spills her coffee over her knee, scalding herself – but she doesn’t care. She couldn’t care about a thing like that. She dries it off with paper napkins, and Gloria leans down to ‘kiss it better,’ then leans back up to kiss her, and Leah can’t find the room in her heart to be upset at this world.
*
Leah feels cold when she claws her way out of sleep. She takes a deep breath in the darkness of her room, and feels her chest creak slightly with the effort, sweaty skin clinging to the sheets.
“Ow,” she mutters, then breathes out slowly.
She looks out the window; the moon is half empty or less, and casts only a faint glow over the Hold. Footsteps pass in the hall outside the door, and in the room above.
They gave her my room. The nerve! Leah giggles, then gets up out of the bed. She riffles through her belongings, pulling open the drawers of the dresser as quietly as she can, looking for clothing. She finally pulls on the one set of clean suedes she can find, pushed into a far corner of the drawer to make room for Leah’s proper clothing. As she pulls them out, something falls to the floor.
Leah kneels down to pick up the crumpled piece of paper. She knows what it is, without ever unfolding it. She recites Teo’s fire spell and watches it burn away, until there’s only a corner left and her fingertips are singed.
Dressed in the familiar, hardy clothing, she opens the door. Peeking her head around the frame, she sees two unfamiliar guards standing watch. They look at her with caution.
“Deu yu ny anytheng?” one asks.
Leah clears her throat, running through her words in her head. “I uou lie teu spy ue Solace.”
The guard seems surprised. “Alrie, Mess Tales,” she nods to Leah, and the other guard rushes off.
“Thaŋ yu.” Leah smiles, standing at the door to wait.
Less than a minute later Solace has arrived. “You caught me as I was about to leave, Miss Talesh,” she says, shrugging out of a silver and white travel cloak. “My job here was done, apparently. How can I help you?”
Leah’s hands shake. “Solace Avaresh,” she says, a slow grin spreading across her face until it takes over.
Solace’s eyes flicker with confusion. “Leah?”
“Proper and fake,” she says.
The bard immediately throws herself into Leah’s arms, feet waving a good six inches off the floor. Leah wraps her in a hug and picks her up even higher off the ground to spin her around a few times; Solace laughs gleefully the whole time. A few doors along the hallway open up, heads peeking out to see what the noise is about.
“How, though?” Solace asks, dropping back to her feet and leaning back. “How by the Gods did you – ”
“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Leah says, pulling Solace into the doorway for a bit of privacy. “And I think I get it. I knew the basics of all these spells, and I knew what that uber-femme pirate captain had told me about scansion songs, and I knew from watching Seffon dabble that mixing and matching magic is possible, and – ”
“Leah, it’s good to have you back, but can you get to the point?” Solace reaches up to pet her cheek in a teasingly maternal way.
“You told me it so many times, and I never listened,” Leah says, catching Solace’s hand and holding it. “You kept telling me to look into religion, and I never did. I was thinking in terms of my world, with distant gods that haven’t walked the earth for thousands of years, if they ever even did. But – and this is really me going out on a limb – what if in this world, they do?”
Solace’s expression freezes, and Leah feels a jolt of vindication.
“Solace, Lord Valerid thought you were a cleric. You were arrested for reading a secret book of the goddesses. And you kept saying you didn’t know anything about Algi, but you knew a damn lot more than anyone else.” Leah winks. “And that last name you abandoned many years ago? That’s an Algic name, isn’t it?”
Solace purses her lips and does not comment.
Leah presses on. “Leah knew all the prayers of the Algic pantheon, but especially favoured one from the domain of the Lady of Murk – who also happens to be the patron of illicit romances, such as all of Leah’s. Then, anytime shit was about to hit the fan – at the really key moments – you were there. You say you have no interest in this part of the Gulf, other than as the setting of ‘epoch-defining’ events, but you keep coming back here, to wherever Leah is.”
Solace unfolds her cloak and attaches it back around her shoulders. “You’re about to accuse me of something blasphemous, and I won’t hear it.”
“I won’t accuse you of it, not at all, but I already know that it’s true because I’ve barely started learning magic and yet the chimerical monster of a spell that I attempted somehow worked.”
“Congratulations,” Solace says flatly. She turns to go.
“Thank you for that,” Leah says, to Solace’s back; the bard stops. “I’d have been miserable if I hadn’t been able to come back here. I thought I needed to go home, I thought I owed it to them…”
“Leah.” Her tone is impatient but kind. “I told you then, and I’ll tell you now.” Solace turns back and stands on tip-toes to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Closure is a form of healing, too. You’d never have been happy here if you hadn’t gotten to go home and see that things were okay there – see that your parents were taken care of, and that your independence was finally coming into bloom.”
Leah takes Solace’s hands one last time. “I know. Then once I got there, I was so afraid that I’d be stuck…”
Solace scoffs. “You know, I liked Leah Talesh,” she says with a proud look. “She begged the Goddess of Liminality to show her a path to a better world, and then damned if she didn’t walk it with confidence. That takes guts. Why would I ever do something mean like take it all back?”
“And me?”
Solace flicks Leah’s nose. “I didn’t expect you, but I was fascinated at the way the world balances out sometimes. You’re a nice addition to this world, and I’m glad we’re keeping you.”
“Then thank you again,” Leah says, bending down to return the kiss on her cheek. “I know that it wasn’t my doing, and I can’t imagine what it took to make it happen, but – ”
“I’ve got power to spare, my dear,” Solace says with a flick of her hand, fluffing her hair. “But do keep the secret, if you don’t mind; it would break our dear Thane’s heart if he found out he hadn’t done anything all that impressive at all, spell-wise.”
“I promise,” Leah says, crossing her heart. “But, just to be clear; are you…?”
Solace laughs. “Oh Leah, I absolutely refuse to be clear. You should know that by now.” She throws up the hood of her cloak. “Now go scare the wits out of Seffon.”
Leah beams and watches her bounce off down the halls. The guards at the door stare between them in confusion.
“Did either of y’all catch that?” Leah asks, pointing at them. “No? Dope.” She finger-guns, straightens her hair, and starts off down the hall at a brisk walk, heading to the dining room. One of the guards calls after her and Leah ignores him, merely raising a hand and waving over her shoulder.
Rounding the first corner, she sees Adan sitting in a stairwell, reading. The lieutenant closes the book and stands, wary, as Leah approaches. “Mess Tales,” she says slowly, with a nod.
“Adan, you beautiful bitch,” Leah says, taking her face in both hands and leaning in close. “Did you miss me? I hope she wasn’t too rude to you; you deserve better.”
Adan’s eyes are wide, fixed on Leah’s face, darting from her eyes to her lips and back. “Ley?” The guards catch up to Leah, and Adan gestures for them to stand down, all without looking away from Leah.
“I know I didn’t explain anything to you, and I should have, I should have trusted you.” Leah smiles, and drops her hands from the sides of Adan’s face. “I will explain, someday. When I have the vocabulary.”
“Lutenan?” one of the guards asks, uncertainly.
“I never asked for your first name,” Leah says, suddenly realising. “What do I call you? If I’m here to stay, for good, as myself?”
Adan’s eyes flit as she tries to follow, still occasionally darting down to Leah’s mouth. “Ã ju…hẽ?”
“Am I her? Adan, I’m me. I briefly wasn’t, and now I am again, and I’m going to stay.”
“B ã ju…”
Leah shrugs. “What can I say to prove it?” She runs a hand over her hair. “How did you say it? Back at the meeting. ‘An absolute whirlwind of chaos.’ Or, ‘firlfen.’ Gods, what a cute accent.”
Adan’s eyes widen, and lock with Leah’s.
“Don’t move,” Leah says, walking backwards as she continues her path. “Or, maybe just, meet me here again tomorrow? I don’t know, I didn’t plan this far ahead.”
Adan reaches out abruptly and grabs Leah’s shoulders before she can turn away. Leah’s eyebrows jump up in surprise, and then her whole face is hidden as Adan pulls her in for a kiss. Leah takes hold of her face again, thumbs running over her cheeks, heart fluttering excitedly.
When they finally pull apart, she is smiling giddily. “There. Was that what you wanted to say, before?” Leah asks, cradling the other woman’s face.
“Ju owe my,” Adan says, pointing a finger at Leah’s nose. “Ju owe my an explanasion of everyteng da has happen’. Espesially fatevẽ happen’ en d stables, des morneng.”
Leah pats Adan’s cheeks teasingly, still grinning. “I’m coming back for you, okay? As soon as I can speak Olues, I’m explaining everything.” She leans in for another quick kiss, turns to jog down the halls, then pauses at the corner and blows a kiss back to her. “I promise I’ll come back. Promise.” With that she turns around for real and continues her trip through the halls.
She slows when she approaches the door to the dining room; she can hear voices within, and there is a younger guard at the door, watching her approach with a nervous look. “Cou yu annaunce my?” she asks softly and very slowly, as she approaches. “I uan teu spy ue Lõ Seffon.”
The guard is obviously confused, but obeys. He knocks, and Leah waits a short distance away.
Seffon opens the door and looks out to the guard, the lines of his face a bit heavier than Leah is used to seeing them. His eyes flick over to her, and he stands a little straighter, clearing his throat. “Miss Talesh,” he says, with a curt nod. “Your timing is quite unusual. Is there anything I can help you with? If it’s about Beeswax again, I must – ”
“Oh Gods, I forgot to ask her why she named her horse Beeswax,” Leah says, slapping her forehead.
Seffon does a double-take. “What?”
“There was just so much to talk about, and so many memories I had to give her, and it sort of…” Leah pulls her hand away from her forehead, wriggling the fingers. “Slipped away.”
His eyes light up a bit, and his breath catches. “What?”
Leah beams up at him. “Hello!”
“Leah?”
“Seffon?”
“Leah!” He wraps her in a hug and lifts her off the ground; Leah lets out a squeal before she can stop herself, and Seffon laughs.
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