She kissed me. Touched me. Let me touch her. Gave me permission to want, to need, to be something other than empty.
And she called me her partner.
Through the bond, I feel her happiness, warm and golden and directed entirely at me.
I stand and rebuild the fire, adding wood until the flames leap high again. Our home, because that's what this is becoming, needs to stay warm. She needs to stay warm.
And I find I like this. Taking care of her. Taking care of this space we're building together.
Two centuries of serving, and for the first time, service feels like choice.
I could get used to this.
I am getting used to this.
And that terrifies me almost as much as it fills me with something that might be hope.
Iris
The discovery comesthree days after the storm.
I'm in the library again, surrounded by towers of books that are starting to feel less like research and more like an obsession. My tea has gone cold. There's ink on my fingers and probably my face. The fire needs stoking but I haven't moved in over an hour because I'm so close to understanding. I can feel it. In my heart. In my blood. I know we can figure this out. Because I refuse to lose what I’ve started to gain here.
"Iris."
I jump, nearly knocking over my current stack. Cadeon is in the doorway with fresh tea and what looks like toast with jam. He's been doing this lately, appearing with food when I forget to eat, stoking fires I've let die, generally keeping me functional while I disappear into research.
"You need to eat," he says, setting the plate beside me.
"I will, I just..." I gesture at the open book. "I think I found something. Look at this."
He moves behind my chair, close enough that I can feel the soft chill radiating from him. It's comforting now, that cold. Familiar. Safe.
"This text," I point to a passage heavily annotated in what looks like three different hands, "talks about solstice magic and familiar bonds. It says the solstice thins the veil between master and familiar. Makes the bond more... transparent. More honest."
"Honest how?"
"It reflects the true nature of the relationship." I flip to another marked page. "And look at this: bonds require constant reinforcement through the master's will to dominate. Without that pressure, they naturally degrade. But listen to this part: “When the master's will to control falters, the bond weakens in direct proportion to that faltering. At solstice, when all magic is laid bare, bonds cannot lie. They become what they truly are.”"
I look up at him, excited. "Don't you see? The bonds aren't breaking randomly, they're transforming. They're becoming honest reflections of the relationships they represent. Partnership bonds are weakening because they were never meant to be about dominance in the first place!"
He's very still behind me. Too still.
"Cadeon?"
"So your bond with me is weakening," he says carefully, "because you don't want to control me."
"Yes! Exactly!" I'm grinning now, because finally,finally, this makes sense. "I'm not failing at maintaining the bond. It's changing because I refuse to dominate you. The magic is adapting. Becoming something better, something more equal, something that actually reflects what we are."
"Then strengthen your will." His voice has gone flat. Empty. "Command me properly."
The words hit like ice water.
I turn in my chair to look at him. "What?"
"You heard me." He's not meeting my eyes, staring instead at the book in front of me. "Strengthen your will. Maintain the bond as it's meant to be maintained. Before it's too late."
"Too late for what?"
