Devotia Ch. 13: Justification

"Magic can be a fickle fellow," Limens jokes after a few seconds, "if our students aren't careful, they may soon find out why we have the rules we have. I won't bore you with the intimate details of the Standard Arcana, hal Devotia."

"I do appreciate it, professor Limens," she grins, forcing a pleasant expression to keep hold of her face. "And is the Magewitch a lifetime appointment? Do you have terms?"

"Lifetime," he answers, though he lifts up a finger to make an additional point, "in that way I am like a Magister."

"Oh, very interesting," she agrees. She takes a breath, seeking a different path forward in the conversation. "Sometimes, I wonder how on earth I am supposed to remain a lifetime in my own role," Callie muses, letting a slightly more tired tone creep forth. "It can be quite overwhelming."

"I imagine so," Limens' head bobs sympathetically. "Devotia have many burdens to carry."

"More than I expected," she mutters quietly, quickly returning to a more enticing affect. "I can't imagine how you have survived for so long as Magewitch. How many years have you held it?"

"Twenty-six," he says proudly.

"You must've been so young when you stepped into the role," she exclaims, "hardly older than I am now."

"Not so young," he grins, appreciative of her subtle compliment.

"I've only been Devotia less than three months and already I wonder how I'll remain another year. Do you ever consider stepping down?"

"I assure you," Limens' eyes soften, putting on a gently parental tone of support, "it does get easier with time. After the first two years, it quickly passes you by."

"That's a relief," she nods, resisting the urge to glare back at Cirene.

"But," Limens says, voice drifting quieter, "between you and me, hal Devotia? I do believe my time has come to step down."

"Really?" Callie forces herself to stifle the shocked expression. It couldn't be this easy, could it? "What would possess you to do that?"

"You, in fact," he smiles, towering body squaring back slightly. "You've been a fresh face for a Devotia. I'm not sure I can keep up anymore."

"You don't give yourself enough credit," she flatters.

"Nonsense," he waves it away. "Forgive me if this question is inappropriate, hal Devotia, but do I detect threaded magic upon you?"

"Indeed," she inclines her head, taking the small risk. Dynasa had warned her Limens would be old-fashioned, it was possible he might resent that information.

"Fascinating," Limens nods. "As I said, it seems Lady Suul is determined to trod a new path - I'm not sure I'm up for marching down it anymore." He takes a tired breath, but suddenly notices something behind her. "As much as I would love to take more of your time, I do believe hal Devotia is hoping to get your attention."

Callie turns to meet his gaze, noticing Junivere waving her over. She waves back, quickly facing Limens and saying, "It has been a pleasure, Professor."

"Indeed, hal Devotia."

Surprised at her luck, Callie steps away from the Magewitch and makes her way over to Junivere, who hovers at the edge of the party. Beside her, a handsome red-headed man smiles to Callie. He's tall and thin, with soft eyes and a boyish face.

"Callie," Junivere grins as she arrives. Callie's brow furrows, surprised by the informality that was unusual for her. "I want you to meet someone."

Callie bows politely to the man, offering a pleasant smile and an outstretched hand. "Devotia Callana, at your service."

The man smiles, returning her bow and gently kissing the back of her hand, his fingers soft and careful against her skin. His motions are fluid and graceful, and up close, Callie feels an irresistible charm from the man. Under his sincere gaze, it's easy to feel the rest of the room melt away; and when he makes polite eye-contact with Callie, lips slowly pushing into her flesh, she even feels an invigorating warmth flush through her skin. His cool blue eyes are inviting, intimate, and surprisingly comfortable to be in view of, though there's mild suggestion hidden within them, exciting and arousing.

"Callie," Junivere says, taking a quick breath and sweetly grabbing her hand, "this is Silas."

- — -

It takes a tremendous amount of self-restraint from Callie not to drop her glass onto the floor, shatter it, and scream explicatives into Silas' face. Every memory Junivere shared with her, every scared moment of fear in her eyes in the late light all flood back into Callie's mind, threatening to push her over the edge.

"Silas," Callie chokes quietly, raising a carefully poised eyebrow towards Junivere. "As in..."

"My ex-husband," Junivere confirms. Callie can't figure out why the Devotia seems so calm, as though she hadn't spent nights sobbing into Callie's arms thinking about him.

"I thought you were exiled," Callie says quickly, trying to force a neutral tone into her voice.

"From Tulla," Silas confirms, a surprisingly peaceable grin on his face. "Honestly it feels like ages ago - so much has changed since then."

Callie holds her breath tightly in her chest. She faces Junivere once more, "And... this is who you were hoping would make it today?"

"Pardon me, Silas," Junivere says sweetly, briefly placing a hand on his shoulder as she steps forward to take Callie's hand. "A word, Callie?"

Callie sighs, but allows Junivere to whisk her out of earshot of the tall man. She crosses her arms and glares at Junivere, confused and angry and unsure of where to direct either feeling. "Why is he here?"

"I invited him," Junivere replies simply.

"Willingly?"

"Yes, Callie," Junivere laughs, taking a quick glance back at Silas.

"Clearly I'm missing something," Callie shrugs her shoulders and raises her hands incredulously. "Am I mistaken for being upset that your former owner, as in, bought you when you were sixteen, has suddenly returned? The one who you had to go into hiding to escape from?"

"A lot has changed, Callie."

"Clearly. So tell me."

"He sent a letter to me a few weeks ago to apologize for everything," Junivere explains. "Apparently, the exile was a turning point for him; it forced him to grow and change. He heard news that I was in Solva now, and he wanted to apologize in person."

"June..." Callie sighs, "This can't be a good idea."

"Do you think I don't know that?" She holds a hand to her stomach, reminding Callie of the scars she was all too familiar with. "But it's been nearly eight years. Neither of us are the same people we were. The old Silas would never have apologized."

"So what is the plan, then? Is he here for a blessing? Here to steal you away?"

"We're figuring things out," Junivere says quietly. "I'm not promising anything, but so far he isn't asking me to... it's been... nice, honestly."

"Why didn't you tell me he reached out?"

"Why haven't you told me what Dynasa said to you?"

"That isn't the same thing."

"It doesn't need to be, Callie," Junivere sighs, taking Callie's hands with her own. "You're your own Devotia, and your own person. You don't owe me everything, and I don't owe you."

"We're friends, June," Callie shakes her head, "Probably well beyond friends, if we're honest. I would've thought you would tell me something like this."

"I'm telling you now," Junivere says, her voice sweet and gentle. It reminds Callie of her more tender moments, where she didn't feel the need to wear the armor of the Devotia, where she felt young and innocent. "I don't understand it, I don't even have to like it, but I was in love with him, Callie. Even after all these years, even with all the bad memories... it feels like the little girl inside me just wants to believe it's possible he can be that person I always wanted him to be, the way he was in the beginning."

Callie wants to argue and tell Junivere she's acting childish, but as she glances back over at Calvin and Cirene, still speaking happily and politely, her own childlike innocence fights its way forward.

You can't have him.

"You know how lonely it gets," Junivere continues, a quiet plea behind her words.

"Yeah," Callie says at last.

"There's even..." Junivere pauses, a tiny, innocent blush spreading to her cheeks. A wishful, precious optimism pours from her voice, tender and longing. "It probably won't even work. But because we were married before I was anointed... it's possible I might get to loosen some of the restrictions for him. He could spend the night, Callie."

Callie's face bursts with jealous heat. Her hands that had so recently settled immediately return to their tremor, shaking as she clenches them to her sides.

You can't have him.

Her mind rapidly devolves into anxious cycles of frustration and envy, opening the floodgates she had been so narrowly holding back. Junivere might get to spend the night with someone, someone other than her. Her sole companion against the loneliness could be so quickly swept away from Callie all because she had the misfortune of being able to be married.

"Hey," Junivere says softly, "What's wrong?"

You can't have him but she can.

"Nothing."

Devotia could marry, but not anymore!

"I know you better than that, Callie."

Junivere gets to, but you don't.

"It's fine," Callie pushes her away. "Just go be with Silas."

"If you don't want to talk now, we can talk later, okay?"

He could spend the night, Callie.

"Whatever," she huffs, muttering, "Go make your scandal."

Without waiting for Junivere to reply, Callie storms away, feeling a dark and brooding energy follow her. Her mind continues to spiral as she forces her way back towards Calvin and Cirene, angrily mumbling inside about Junivere's special exemption.

"Lady Cirene," Callie arrives, forcing an overly nice tone into her words, "Might I borrow the Knight-Commander for a moment?"

"Of course, hal Devotia," Cirene replies, bowing and trying to hide the mild disappointment in her eyes. "It has been lovely speaking with you again," she says, fluttering her eyelashes at Calvin.

"It'll only be a moment, Lady Cirene," Callie tries to hide the coldness in her tone, though she doubts it's very successful.

She waves a hand, directing Calvin to follow her out of earshot of Cirene. She rounds a corner of the shelves, finding a hallway that leads to a large planetarium and observatory, stopping at the marble columns that adorn each side of the hall.

"Away from the crowds...?" Calvin asks quietly. "Are you sure that's wise-,"

"I think you should see Lady Cirene," Callie interrupts.

He takes a step back, as though struck by an invisible blow. "What are you talking about?"

"You and I will never get to be together," Callie sighs, holding her arms tightly across her chest and fighting the urge to cry. "I don't think you should see me anymore."

"Callie," Calvin takes a long breath, pushing away his own frustration, "I want to be with you. I'm willing to do what it takes to make this work."

"Then do it with Lady Cirene, she's perfect for you," Callie turns away, briefly gazing back towards the gala out of sight and wondering how long it would take for her to become like the rest of the nobility. "She's charming, beautiful, threaded, and head-over-heels for you."

"Is this really what you want, Callie?"

"It doesn't matter what I think or want," Callie grumbles. "Cirene can give you everything you want, and I can't. You deserve it. It's as simple as that."

Calvin drops a hand to the place where the pommel of his sword would be, only to have his hand fall through because of its absence. A little uncomfortable, and shifting to cross his arms over his chest, he exhales and says, "Callie, do you want to know what separates you from Cirene?"

"She's free to do whatever she wants."

"You're not nobility," he says simply.

"So?"

He scoffs, lightly pushing away a puff of timid laughter. "You know my feelings on this world," he explains, gesturing back into the main room. "It isn't natural to me, I hate the niceties and subtleties and how disconnected from real life it all is."

"Well, it's my life now," Callie scowls.

"But it isn't," he contests, "You don't come from these circles. You're not vain and obsessed with status and all this nonsense. You actually know what real life is like."

"I'm a Devotia," Callie complains, frustrated he won't just accept reality. "I have rules and duties and obligations that I need to follow. I don't just get to break those because I want to. People are counting on me." Silas' red hair and charming smile flashes in her head and Callie feels a bitterness well up inside of her.

"I'm not saying to abandon those things," Calvin states simply.

She groans, annoyed and disappointed. "I can't be with you, you can't be with me. Stop making yourself miserable by wanting something you can't have."

"Is that what you told yourself all those years in Rookwell?"

Callie's heart stops. The moisture in her mouth quickly evaporates and suddenly it's difficult to swallow. She can feel the headache she's been ignoring force itself back into her focus and so she throws a hand to her head, massaging her temples.

"What does that have to do with anything?" She croaks.

"You're so brave, Callie," Calvin steps closer, daring to raise a hand to softly caress her cheek. "You made a place for yourself despite growing up somewhere that never wanted you to exist. How is that so different from here?"

She closes her eyes, lowering her palm to rest on his hand, gently stroking against the side of her face. She presses her head into it more, feeling comforted by the tender pressure and slight warmth of it.

Is this really so different from Rookwell? She wonders. It was so common to push away the things she wanted... to deny herself simply because others didn't want her to have it. Sometimes it feels like second nature. You can't have him, the voice inside protests, only to be met with the soft rebuttal of, but what if I could?

Calvin continues, a soft and sweet compassion filling each and every word, dedicated and kind. "Why bother with all this? Why waste your time caring about the opinions of people who just want to use you? You're so much stronger and kinder and more interesting than all of them." His spare hand carefully grabs hers, pulling her just a little closer to him.

She sighs, opening her eyes but leaving her face pressed into his palm. "But Cirene likes you so much. Why would you put yourself through all the trouble of being with me when it'd be so easy with her?"

"Do you think you're that replaceable?" He shakes his head softly.

"Yes," Callie squeaks, finally giving voice to the tiny whispers of shame.

"You're not," Calvin's face squares firmly, trying to will her to feel his sincerity. She raises her hand to rest it on his chest, tugging at the fabric of his robes and leaning in to smell his comforting musk. The tightness in her chest loosens slightly, pulled open by the careful, freeing, light feeling of wanting him.

"I don't like that you're threaded because it's some fun experience for me to try out," he says after a moment, letting his fingers run down the side of her face towards her neck. "I like it because every tiny strand of magic that makes you who you are represents a fierceness and resilience that so few people have to face. I look at you and all I can think about is how much courage it took just to make it out alive."

Callie can't fight her tears now. Her eyes send tiny streams of water down her cheek, which Calvin sweetly wipes away with his thumb. She ignores her duties and obligations, abandoning proper behavior to throw her arms around him, pushing her head into the crook of his neck and letting her shaking breaths out.

"So please," his voice shakes a little, resting his hands on her back and bringing her into his body, "don't ask me to move on. I don't want to."

"I want more," she finally admits, burrowing even deeper into his chest. "I can't handle... Gods, I want you so badly."

"You also want to be Devotia," he gently reminds, calling back to their previous conversation. "I'm not going to ask you to leave this. I want more, but I also want you to be the things you want to be."

She nods, scared and secure.

"So, how do we make this work?"

"I don't know," Callie whispers back. "Tell me," she begs.

"Okay," Calvin sighs, thinking quietly for a few moments. "Well, to begin, people are going to be wondering where we are right now..."

"They already know we're close," Callie groans. "I don't care what they say about this."

"You have to care a little, if we're going to really do this," he nudges.

She takes a deep breath, letting the feeling of his beard scratching against her cheek lightly redirect her focus. "Spread the word that Suul gave me a vision for the Knighthood. All paladins and knights should take Saturday as a day of prayer and reflection. Suul wants them to venerate St. Gelmon."

"Patron Saint of Solitude, right?"

Callie nods, briefly grateful for her endless lessons from Velena. "Say that Suul is concerned there isn't enough attention to the needs of widows and orphans."

"And you brought me here to convey this vision?"

Callie pulls back from his embrace, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes. "I was overwhelmed by her spirit, and needed you to walk me aside to avoid worrying the crowd."

"That could work," Calvin agrees. "People will still talk, but at least there will be a counter story."

"What next?" She asks, already exhausted from the careful deflections she'll need to make for the next week.

"If you keep summoning me every week, and spending all of your time at banquets talking to me..." He trails off, letting her fill in the details.

"So we'll have to be careful," she agrees. "How do I get to see you if I can't do any of the normal things very often?"

"I'll leave that to your comfort level, hal Devotia."

"You... you'd be willing to try and see me at night?"

"No," he replies softly. "The risk there is too high, I can't put you in that position."

"How else will I get to see you?"

He thinks for a few long moments, eyes flicking back and forth as he considers a variety of scattered ideas. After a frustrated and dejected grunt, he concedes, "I don't know. We'll find something."

"We will," she sighs. Taking a moment to steady herself more, she rolls her shoulders, trying to push away the tension holding her together. "We should return. We don't want to give them more to talk about."

Callie takes a step away, making back for the main hall, only to have Calvin grab her wrist and hold her in place. She rolls her eyes, turning to face him and scowling.

"I think..." his voice rumbles softly, careful that only Callie would be able to hear. "... that visions from Suul are tiresome affairs."

"Calvin..."

"Hal Devotia," he grins, "you look weary. You should regain some strength before returning to your duties."

"I appreciate the concern, Knight-Commander," she lets humor nudge its way into her tone, softly poking fun at him, "but the people of Solva have need of their Devotia."

Calvin ignores her, keeping his grip on her wrist tight and gently walking her over to the nearest wall. Her body flushes with warmth as he pushes her back into the hard marble, stepping into her space and leaving her trapped by his handsome form.

"You're practically delirious, hal Devotia," he grins, enjoying the act. She stifles her laughter, smirking as his hands rest against the stone beside her head. "I can't let you return until you're feeling well enough."

"Calvin..." she warns, eyes flicking back towards the rest of the party. As much as she wants to protest, the straining in her panties fights back just as hard. With each puff of his warm breath on her cheeks, her torso pulls forward, aching to be fully in his grasp.