Archive of Our Own ^beta

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     A/N: Special thanks to merrickfemslash for helping me out with this one. This is just a short preview (short in comparison to how long the full thing has become.) because I am not yet sure if I want to post the full thing at once or post it in parts, but I am eager to get feedback, so, here it is. I hope you enjoy it!

     "You have a lot of experience caring for plants?" Inquisitive brown eyes leveled with Misty’s, causing her to nod nervously and offer a subtle smile.

“Yeah, ‘course. I worked for quite a while at a commercial greenhouse as an intern,” Misty shifted in her seat, resisting the impulse to fold both legs beneath herself and kick her sandals off. “I did that for ‘bout — probably somewhere around four years. I just graduated but I need to find something — you know, summer job so I can get on my own.”

“Misty Day, I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere else,” Cordelia murmured thoughtfully, narrowing her dark brown eyes for a second and sitting back in her seat. “I hope you know we can’t offer you a huge sum for your services; I’m afraid I certainly can’t match the wages of a commercial greenhouse. Really you’d just be —”

“Oh, Miss Foxx, lemme be upfront and let you know I’m not too worried about bein’ paid an awful lot. I just need somethin’…to get by,” Misty shot forward in her seat a little, leaning toward Cordelia with enthusiasm. “Please say you’ll hire me. You read my resume and all that, and honestly I just love plants — if I can work with ‘em it won’t matter how much I’m bein’ paid.”

The older woman gave a lingering half-smile and delicately slid forward a contract and a pen. “You start today, if you can, and I can offer you lodgings here as the — school hasn’t yet filled up and we have rooms to spare.”

With a gracious smile and an eager nod, Misty reached for the pen. “Wow, that’s — that’s more than I could ask for. Are ya… sure?” She questioned with a curious flex of her brow before looking down to scrawl out her name, albeit messily, on the designated line beneath the written agreement. “I could get by just fine either way, but if you — if that’s a better arrangement for ya, then by all means—”

The headmistress returned Misty’s smile with her own simple one, before folding her hands together atop the desk. “I think it would be. It could be somewhat of an… extended thanks for your services. It’s the least I could offer.”

And with that, it seemed to have been agreed upon by both parties. Misty would take up residence at the academy, in exchange for some work in the greenhouse, and get some cash doing so. It seemed like an especially good deal to Misty.

 

---

 

     Within a week Misty had settled into the academy, bringing along nothing more than a wooden chest of mixed belongings and an off-yellow 8-track player with some tapes. She’d made a cozy place of the room she was given, draping floral shawls over the footer of the bed and an armchair in the far corner, something Cordelia had noted to give the room an admirable, eccentric quality when she’d stopped by to check up on how the younger blonde was adjusting.

She’d taken refuge in the greenhouse almost immediately like it had been her own, finding solace in it’s stone walls and open space. It was almost as if Misty had spent her entire life in the room, considering how quickly she fell into the swing of things when it came to the plants, and how easily she familiarized herself with every nook and hidden corner of the large place. It almost felt like she was at home here.

She was deep in her thoughts, humming an inspecific tune to herself as she let a lazy wrist guide the watering can over a set of particularly needy plants when the brief patter of footsteps called her attention. Half-lidded blue eyes snapped to look over her shoulder, curious of whose company to expect.

“Miss Foxx! Heya, I was just… doin’ some watering.” she told, turning back to the plants with a firmer grasp on the watering can. Her back straightened in the slightest way, trying to bring together some semblance of method to what she was doing. “Can I help you with anything?” It was falsely uninterested, with the taller blonde consciously pretending to be more focused on her work than anything else.

“Oh, no, no. I was just… around, and I figured I’d stop by, see how you were doing.” Honest words accompanied by a tight lipped smile, followed by the headmistress awkwardly crossing her arms over her chest. “But I can see that you’re hard at work at the moment, so I’ll let you get back to it —”

“No, that’s — that’s okay!” Blue eyes shot back to the woman who lingered by the doorway, her indifferent charade dropped with how her voice was a noticeable pitch higher. “Ya aren’t hurtin’ anybody by stayin’. In fact, I think the plants stood up a little straighter as soon as you walked into the room, crazy as that sounds.” She smiled, warranting the slightest pink blush in the other.

“Well, in that case…” Cordelia grinned wider, letting her previously tensed arms fall to her sides. She took a few steps toward the girl, though cautiously, saddling up to her side to inspect her work. “Do you know what that one is, Misty?” She asked, doing her best to stay out of Misty’s way when she asked.

“Aloe Vera.” Misty answered almost immediately, eyes now honestly focused on the plants in front of her. “I use it — well, used it all the time at my old place. It’s got healin’ properties, did ya know that, Miss Foxx?” She lifted her gaze momentarily.

“I did, actually.” She assured with another soft smile, returning Misty’s gaze before looking back to the plants. “You can call me Cordelia, if you’d like. I don’t even make my girls address me by my last name, so it’s only suiting.”

“Okay, Cordelia.” Misty smiled, pulling the watering can back a bit and shifting to a nearby set of unwatered ones. “Though it ain’t the most professional, workin’ under you and not callin’ you somethin’ like that.”

“I’d hate to reduce you to some ‘worker’ status just because you tend to my garden. You live here, after all. It’s only right that I let you feel somewhat at home with me, I believe.”

“I was perfectly comfortable with ya before ya decided you wanted me calling you ‘Delia.” Misty laughed, looking over briefly, fingers still tight around the handle of the watering can.

“Delia?” Cordelia chuckled softly, eyebrows raised in mixed amusement.

“Cordelia, if you’d prefer.”

“Delia works just fine.” Cordelia assured with another gentle grin followed by a soft sigh, watching as the taller of the two went right on back to work.  

 

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A/N: This chapter is short and it sucks but I promised you guys a fic and the other one isn't ready yet sooo.... here's chapter two to a fic I started with the lovely inspiration of merrickfemslash. 

     Two weeks in and Misty was already almost entirely comfortable with her new surroundings. Sure, the academy’s white walls and tall pillars were a lot more intimidating than the greenhouse she’d taken to, but she was getting there. She’d yet to encounter a single one of the girls, and for that, she was also somewhat thankful. Though, she did find herself somewhat curious, letting her mind create complex identities of the girls she hadn't known, based on nearly no information, as someone as creative as she would likely do if allowed no other option.

The only woman she’d really familiarized herself with so far was Cordelia, the smart and in charge headmistress of the academy. There were certain parts to this woman that Misty would have found intimidating in anyone else, though in Cordelia they just seemed to make her even sweeter. Despite how little they’d actually spoken, Misty felt like she could almost consider the older woman a friend beyond just being an employer.

She had to remind herself that the justification for her staying at the academy was to care for the plants, and that this was a job before it was anything else. Still, it was easy to find herself getting almost too comfortable in this house. There was something, a pull of sorts, that grew the longer she found herself here. It almost felt like there was a reason she'd wound up at this place, beyond her less-than-greatly paying job. 

 

“How come I never see the girls?” It was a soft question, uttered after a moment of comfortable quiet between them. There was the slightest of pitch changes toward the end of the inquisition, no doubt because of how honestly Misty wanted to know.

Cordelia drew in a breath, running through a mental list of possible cover ups for why the headmistress had done her best to keep the woman from running into any of her students. “Oh, well they’re — they’re peculiar like that. They actually stay locked off in their rooms most of the time.”

Misty visibly stiffened, as if she wasn’t entirely pleased with the answer, almost sure there was something more to it than Cordelia was letting on. “Ah. Okay.” Her voice was quiet, defeated.

A hint of something the headmistress identified as guilt nipped at her heart. She could tell the cajun was slightly put off. “But I’m sure they’d love you!” It was a plea for forgiveness, for the younger girl’s smile to return.

Silence.

“They aren’t — they aren’t really like other girls.” Cordelia added. If Misty persisted, she would no doubt crack and tell a secret that wasn’t hers to tell, and what would that bring? What would be Misty's reactions to discovering she'd been not only working at, but living with a coven full of witches? Cordelia wasn't ready to lose her new gardener so early on--- and beyond that, the girl was becoming something more like a friend.

“I understand.” Misty said, giving a tight-lipped smile before turning back to the plants, taking a leaf between her forefinger and thumb to inspect it. Clearly dejected blue eyes raked over the leaf before flickering up to Cordelia’s eyes once again.

"I'll just be here workin' if you need me."

It wasn’t hard to tell that Misty was hurt by Cordelia’s reluctance to share.

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A/N: Dedicating this chapter to therumoursaretruee because at this point, I'm 90% sure this fic is getting read by like two people and a garden gnome, and even if I'm really only writing for one person-- cheers, to chapter 3! Also, feel free to message me with any suggestions of things you'd like to see happen in future chapters. I'll do my best. 

   She was just taking inventory on the plants when she’d noticed it; a small, lifeless figure hidden beneath the workbench. The cajun’s heart sunk at the sight, a frown crossing over her genuine, soft features.

“Oh. Oh no...” She was still for a moment, looking down at it as she racked her brain for a way to pick up the mangled creature. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled an old, worn cloth from one of the wall mounted metal hooks and immediately reduced to her knees, crawling into the space that was beneath the wooden workplace. “No, no, no...” Soft words as gentle ringed fingers scooped him up into the rag. She brought the little, lithe figure to her chest so that she'd be able to stand.

She couldn’t help the tears that collected in her eyes, placing the bird, wrapped in it's cloth, on the surface of the table to further investigate it. The poor thing was hardly held together, feathers ruffled and broken, it looked as if a cat had gotten to it-- though how a cat had gotten into the greenhouse in the first place was beyond Misty; she hadn't noticed there being one in this house. 

 “Hey... hey little guy." Her soft cajun voice cooed, letting dainty fingers smooth out the disarray of her feathery friend. "You — You’re gonna be alright, alright?” She nodded, though mostly to herself.

 It took a second before she closed her eyes, fighting back a few sniffles as she let her clasped hands come down to hover over the lifeless mass of feathers.

A deep breath, in and then out. She felt the exchange of life forces as it happened, a blue imaginary light flowing through her body and down into the bird's, the tingle in her fingertips as she willed the bird to live.

“C’mon...” She uttered in a whisper, eyes still shut tight as she forced her breath in deeper. She would make him live, she had to.

The soft flutter of wings beneath her fingers made her eyes open slowly, a smile replacing the sadness that was previously overtaking her features. “Hey little guy..." The corners of her mouth upturned in satisfaction--- not from her success, but from the simple truth that she'd restored the bird to his once again living state. "Didn't I tell ya you'd be alright?” More soft words as the bird flapped his wings a few times more, clearly getting a feel for his newly reclaimed life force, before he lifted off, taking to the open space of the greenhouse and making a beeline straight for the wide open wooden door frame.

Misty’s blue eyes followed him out, though they quickly caught the other figure, a human one, standing in the doorway. As her eyes focused, Misty recognized it to be Cordelia. How long had she been standing there?

“When— when did you get there?” Misty asked, blue eyes wide as she wiped her hands off on the front of her dress. Panic was soon to replace the relief she felt from reviving the bird. How was she going to explain what had just occurred?

“Misty...” Cordelia sighed, taking a single step forward. Her expression was hard to read and Misty couldn’t help but feel her heart flutter slightly, though a welcomed change from the drop it'd sustained upon finding the dead bird.

“If you’ll give me a sec, I can explain—” Misty assured, reaching her arms out in what mirrored surrender, almost as if to keep the older woman back and away from her, afraid of confrontation.

“Misty.” Cordelia’s voice was slightly firmer, yet still she stepped forward a few feet, to the point where she was an arm’s length away from the taller girl.

“Please don’t fire me. This job’s all I’ve got goin’ for me right now. I swear I can explain.” Misty pleaded, brows furrowing as the thought crossed her mind that she very might well might be out of a job now.

“I’m not going to fire you.” Cordelia couldn’t fight back a grin, barely managing to hold back the laugh that came with the swamp girl's clear anxiousness. “Misty, that was amazing.”

“You mean... you’re not mad?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?” Genuine curiosity lined Cordelia's otherwise neutral face, head tilted slightly in question.

Misty drew in a sharp breath, dropping her hands to her side as the need to defend herself slowly dissipated. “Mama always told me ta never show anyone I could— do that." Her hands were fists at her sides before she brought them to her front, wringing them together as she spoke. "She said they’d think me a witch, an’ that they’d--- hate me and wouldn’t want nothin’ to do with me.”

Something in the younger girl's story tugged at Cordelia's heart strings. It was clear the girl had faced what seemed to be a lot of skepticism and disapproval of her powers, though thankfully--- she'd found herself amongst no few of the same, she was working at a house full of her own kind, and she had no idea. “You are a witch.” Cordelia corrected, the simple sentence being the best she could offer Misty-- some sureness, maybe acceptance?

“No, no, Miss Cordelia, I’m not!” She slipped into the formality, ashamed and embarrassed, shaking her full head of rural blonde curls, sure she'd have to convince the woman otherwise.

“Misty. You are a witch, and that is perfectly okay.” Cordelia soothed, her own hand coming up to reach for Misty's busy, shaky one. She gave it a gentle squeeze. “And by some far shot, you’ve taken to gardening for a coven full of witches just like yourself." She informed, an equally gentle smile crossing her full lips. "Forces work in mysterious ways.”

“A coven? You mean— you mean like... a witch house?” Blue eyes flickered from Cordelia's face to their joined hands, the weight of all the new information and current situation bringing a flush to her cheeks.

“It's a lot to take in, I know.”

“Bit of an understatement, don’t’cha think?” Misty chuckled, though somewhat dryly, earning a small smile from Cordelia.

“But believe me, you are at home here, among us. I mean that.”

This time Misty's smile was a genuine one, and she squeezed the woman's hand back before she spoke. "Thank you, Cordelia." She said, voice quiet despite the angry blush that was working it's way up her cheeks. "I appreciate that, I really do."

A silent moment passed before both of the women's hands retreated to their own personal space, Cordelia clearing her throat, and Misty speaking soon after. “So what do you do?”

“What do you mean?” Cordelia had asked, smile returning to her lips.

“What’s your power?”

Cordelia's smile quickly fell. “Oh, I don’t— I don’t really know. All I’ve got going for me as of lately is potioncraft and... my hobby of botany, which I’m sure you’re familiar with. I’m also sure you’ve seen the collection of rarities I've got around here, too.” The headmistress went on, trying in vain to switch the topic to something other than herself.

“Wow, that’s— that is so cool!” Misty grinned wildly, clasping her hands together against her chest. “I never knew you’d be a... witch, just like me--- I knew there was somethin’ ‘bout ya, I just never would’ve thought—”

“My powers are nothing compared to what great power you have, Misty.”

Again, that silence was back, though this time both women had built up a soft blush, Cordelia's arguably worse this time around. Heavy beating hearts thumped, and in the silence, one could almost hear that they nearly fell in sync.

Misty's voice was the one to break the silence.

“And, ah--- what do tha girls do?” She asked.

“A variety of things. I’ve got one with a knack for pyrokinesis, and another with clairvoyance.” Cordelia told, the faintest hint of pride in her girls showing through the way she stood up slightly straighter.

“I’m not so sure I know what that means.”

"Pyrokinesis?" Cordelia asked, to which Misty nodded. “I tell you what, why don’t you clean up in here and when you finish up, come meet me in my office. By the time you get there I’ll have everything pulled out for you so we can go through a brief little lesson about what it means to be a witch, as well as what all powers witches like us can possess. Sound good?”

Misty's smile grew, and she nodded. Sure, she'd love a good history lesson with her newly discovered witch-boss. Who wouldn't?

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A/N: I’mma write shitonna fics this week so like, send me prompts and what not. In the mean time, here’s this. Previous chapters were written in the past tense, but I’m trying out present tense just to make it a little more flowy.  This chapter is just about 700 words, so yeah... here ya go.

Feedback is appreciated! Thanks. 

     Inside Cordelia’s office now, Misty takes a seat atop the edge of the woman’s desk, Cordelia placed modestly one leg over the other in her office chair. She scrolls through some things on her computer, pausing momentarily to explain them to Misty.

“Pyrokinesis.” Breaks the silence as she shows Misty a set of very clearly outdated pictures. Girls with fire in their palms, witches of many-a-year ago who have most likely long since perished. “If you’re familiar with the term ‘pyromaniac’ it’s a bit similar to that. Witches with this ability are able to control and conjure flames from their very fingertips.” 

There was a brief shift in Misty’s posture, twiddling nervous fingers together. “I’m not too big on fire. Sounds so destructive. I don’t think much good can come from havin’ that ability.”

“I’ve yet to find a case where that wasn’t the absolute truth, Misty.” Cordelia admits with a sigh, continuing to scroll down the page.

“What’s next?” Misty asks, turning slightly to get a better view of the screen, now letting herself be a tad more interested in the subject matter.

“Clairvoyance. The ability to interpret a person’s thoughts, sometimes by choice, and sometimes without control. It can be a bit of a bothersome trait to possess.”

“Anyone at this school of yours who’s like that?” Misty asks curiously, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands, a position atop the older woman’s desk that would have felt the slightest bit provocative had it been anyone else. Thankfully, it wasn’t. It was just Misty.

“One. Her name is Nan. A young witch who’s been here longer than any of my other girls. She’s got a form of clairvoyance that is uncontrollable, which means she isn’t able to stop it from happening. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to hear everyone’s thoughts all of the time.”

“Sounds tough. I’m sorry ta hear that.”

“I’m sure it’s quite something to be able to hear people’s thoughts, but at what cost?”

Misty falls silent at the clearly rhetorical question of the other, looking down to her lap for a moment, somewhat in respect for the younger witch, whom she’s never actually met.

“There’s a flipside to every coin.” Misty offers a moment later, in a means of trying to bring light into the situation. “I’m sure it has it’s advantages.”

“I suppose so.” Cordelia shrugs, lips tugging to the side in the slightest of frowns.

Misty can tell she’s still a little off put, and it only makes her want to console her newfound witch companion more. She tries again to pull the conversation in another direction. “Ya wanna know my flipside, Miss Cordelia?”

Cordelia pulls away from the computer for a moment to look back up at the witch, curiosity swirling behind her chocolate brown eyes. “I would, yes.” She admits softly.

“Well see, my problem is that I can’t keep myself from doin’ it. If I know someone’s lost, someone innocent, somebody who’s done no harm, I can’t help but find myself closin’ my eyes, and when I open ‘em, I’m always there. Come to find out, I’m there ‘cause some poor soul pulled me there. I don’t have much control over it anymore. Anyone who needs me, I find them somehow.”

“So you can’t control it either?” Cordelia’s eyes never break their lingering gaze on the younger woman. She is beyond interested now.

“Sort’ve like Nan, I guess.”

“I see.” Cordelia says, her firm hand rising up to rest atop Misty’s dress-clad knee. “Well, know that you are not alone, Misty. You have found a house full of girls who I’m sure have some insight to offer you, at least.” Her hand against Misty’s knee gives a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you, Miss Cordelia.”

“You’ve taken to calling me ‘Miss’ again. What happened to ‘Delia’?” Cordelia smiles, tilting a sculpted brow inquisitively.

“I can’t help it.” Misty grins, shrugging her shoulders.

“Call me Cordelia, okay?”

“I’ll try.” Another smile.