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W.I.T.C.H.

Chapter 4

Summary:

Stede interviews the widows that bought poison potions from Ed. Things go horribly wrong at the Autumn Festival.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Stede and Ricky got together to interview widows of the “victims.” Ricky told Stede exactly what to do, how to appear sympathetic to their loss, and how to question them and what questions to ask them. The first woman Ricky instructed her to visit was Angela Port. Ricky was waiting at a shop down the street for Stede to come out and tell him everything.

Angela Port was a sweet young woman, short, and with a slight frame. She was being hounded by her two toddlers, a boy and a girl, and Angela apologized over and over for their behavior as she got them set up with their toys in the nursery so they could talk.

“I remember when mine were that little,” Stede said sympathetically. “There’s hardly a moment of peace, is there?”

Angela laughed appreciatively. “It does seem that way, yes.”

A few minutes later, Angela was making tea in the kitchen, and Stede was sitting at the kitchen table.

“Mr. Port being gone… must make things harder,” Stede said gently.

Angela stiffened. “If you don’t mind my disagreement, Mrs. Allamby, it does not.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Carl… never made things easier.”

Stede nodded seriously. “I see. I apologize for my ignorant comment…”

“It’s quite alright.”

Angela poured Stede a cup of tea, and sat down across from her.

“I heard the rumors about your late husband,” Stede said in a low tone. “Seems to me… things might be better without him?”

Angela smiled a little. “It’s had its challenges. Luckily, I was the talented tailor of the two of us, so I’ve started up my own business to make money. Of course, it’s difficult, raising two children and starting a business by oneself, especially when your last name is attached to… a man like Carl.”

Stede frowned sympathetically.

“I’ve been lucky to have had the support I did,” Angela continued. “My brother and sister and my mother and my friends… I don’t know what I’d do without them. When Carl was alive I hardly saw them, and now it feels like my life has gotten so much bigger and grander again. I’m not sure what I would’ve done without…” Angela suddenly trailed off and took a sip of her tea.

“Without…?”

“Without the luck of Carl dropping dead. Sorry, that sounds so… morbid, that’s why I paused.”

“I understand. A lot of women have had… luck… take care of an unwanted spouse… I’d say, we sure are lucky to have some luck in this town. The kind of luck that helps women have happier, better lives. The kind of luck that helps children survive illnesses. The kind of luck that does all sorts of things for us.”

Angela nodded. “And I would agree with you. I might even hope that Bridgetown will continue not minding being lucky, rather than… get upset at the presence of luck.”

Stede nodded. “I agree. Luck gets a bad rap.”

~~~

Ricky pestered Stede with a lot of questions after, and Stede lied to him about getting nothing of value. The next few interviews went the same, with Stede eventually getting them to admit they felt very lucky to have Ed in town, and with Stede lying to Ricky after about none of them admitting anything remotely witchy. Unfortunately, that did make Ricky rather irritated.

“Not one of them said anything helpful?!” Ricky yelled. “Not one?! Not a single one gave you a single helpful clue as to who and where the witch or witches might be?”

Stede shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“They’re just stupid housewives, Stede! How hard is it to get them to admit to foul play! Not one of them regretted it and wanted revenge on the witch who tricked them?!”

“Ricky, you are trying to accuse them of murder. Most people are going to be hesitant to own up to that,” Stede said, trying not to lose her temper.

“We’re not trying to accuse them of murder though! I would never try to get innocent women locked up or executed! I’m looking for witches!”

Stede’s lower lip trembled with rage as she tried to control her breath. She forgot how irritating this man was to deal with. But when Ricky noticed, his face softened.

“Oh Stede, no no, don’t cry,” Ricky said. He reached forward to touch her cheek and wipe away a tear, and Stede slapped his hand away.

“I’m not crying!” Stede insisted.

“I’m sorry,” Ricky continued. “There’s a reason detectives are men. I figured you’d be able to gain the trust of the widows more quickly, but I was wrong. I gave you a man’s job and I shouldn’t’ve put that pressure on you.”

Stede bit her tongue and hoped she wouldn’t accidentally bite it off, while Ricky looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers.

“Ah, yes! I know what you can do. Set up a support group for recent widows. You’ve already proven to be sympathetic to their suffering. Run those meetings and eventually get them to believe you want to off Marcus, so you can learn who the witch is. Meanwhile, I’ll do the real detective work. How does that sound, Stede? You could serve tea and biscuits, it’ll be lovely and helpful!”

“I can do that,” Stede said softly.

“Good, good,” Ricky said. “Are you okay, dear? I really am sorry for putting so much pressure on you to find the witch immediately. That was not very gentlemanly, and I do apologize.”

Stede just shook her head. “I’ve had enough witch hunting for today, that’s all.”

“Yes, it’s been a difficult day,” Ricky agreed. “Go home, rest. I’ll send you a note in a few days for us to regroup, sound good?”

Stede nodded. “Yes, sounds good.”

~~~

Stede ran and ran, until she found herself in a clearing in the forest, and she screamed. She screamed and screamed until her lungs were hoarse and then she punched a tree until her knuckles were bleeding and then she fell to her knees and cried.

She should be better than this, she should be stronger than this, but it hurt to be reminded of how everyone would see her forever. Weak and silly and stupid and useless. She cried herself out and then just sat there on her knees on the ground, thinking about how she was getting dirt and grass stains in her dress.

Oh well.

She then heard footsteps come running up behind her. She turned around, ready to yell at whoever it was to go away, but it was Ed, and she looked concerned.

“Stede?” Ed asked gently.

“Hi,” Stede said, her voice still hoarse and scratchy.

“Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Stede said, standing up and dusting herself off.

“You don’t seem fine.”

“I have good news, actually,” Stede rasped with a sniff. “I interviewed some of the widows today as part of my undercover operation with Ricky. They all agreed that they’re happy you’re here and hope Bridgetown stays witch friendly. So you do have allies.”

Ed’s face fell and she shrank in on herself a little. “Stede… it’s one thing to say that casually… it’s another thing to… actually be an ally. But it’s fine, never mind that. Let me make you some tea with honey for your throat, okay? Please?”

Stede sighed, accepting defeat. “Okay.”

~~~

Izzy gave Stede lots of attitude when the pair entered the house, but Stede wouldn’t pay her any attention back. She felt tired and empty. She accepted the tea with a quiet thank you, and for the first time since they met, things felt awkward and tense between them. Izzy eventually gave up on trying to get a reaction from Stede and curled up on the armchair for a nap. Ed paced around while Stede drank her tea.

“Sorry…” Stede said. “I’m sorry…”

“For what?”

“For… for… being such a pain.”

“You’re never a pain.”

Stede wiped her nose and chuckled. “That’s nice of you to say…”

The room went quiet for a moment.

“Come with me,” Ed said suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m leaving. Come with me.”

“You’re leaving??”

“Yeah!”

“Why?”

“It’s time to go. I don’t want to, Stede, but… as soon as some cretin comes to town talking about witch hunts it’s already too late. So… come with me.”

Stede looked at her, utterly perplexed. “I can’t— Ed— where are you even planning on going?”

Ed shrugged. “Don’t know yet. I’m buying a horse and a caravan. I’ll end up where I’m supposed to be.”

“That seems awfully…” Stede trailed off.

“Awfully what?”

“Sudden. Unknown. You could end up very far away.”

“Well, yeah.”

“I… Ed, this is ridiculous,” Stede said, standing up. “I have a husband and family. I can’t just leave them. Arthur and Louisa deserve a mother. And Marcus… I entered a contract with him in front of God and I’m bound to honor it…”

Ed shrank in on herself and looked away. She twirled a bit of hair with her finger. “Ok,” she said softly. “I respect your decision.”

Stede swallowed. “And I respect yours.” Stede bit her lower lip to prevent it from wobbling in an infantile manner. “Can I know when you’re going, at least?”

“It’ll be about two weeks.”

Stede nodded. “Ok. Ok…” She tugged on the sleeves of her dress. “Well…”

“If you change your mind, let me know,” Ed blurted out.

Stede nodded. “I will… I think I’ll just go home now. It’s been a long day.”

Ed nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Thank you for being so hospitable, as usual. I’m sorry I haven’t returned the favor.”

“S’all right…” Ed said shyly. “I wouldn’t know what to do anyways at some kind of fancy dinner or something. I’d use all the wrong forks. I probably don’t even have a dress good enough to wear.”

“You should come over,” Stede said. “Before you leave. I’ll set it up so Marcus and the children are out of the house. They can go to dinner at his sister’s. His sister doesn’t like me anyways. Marcus can tell them I’m sick or something, and we can have a little dinner, just the two of us. We’re about the same size. I can lend you a dress, and we can serve ourselves. I could give you a tour, after. Show you my library and the gardens. But only if you want. You don’t have to.”

“Might be nice,” Ed said.

“That a… yes?”

“Yes. Yes!”

Stede lit up. “Ok! Great!”

Ed smiled brightly back.

“You know…” Stede said. “It’s Saturday. The Autumn Festival is happening right now.”

“You wanna… go together?”

“I would. If you don’t mind going with someone who has to stop and look at all the knick knacks for sale.”

“As long as you don’t mind going with someone who’s gonna eat three cinnamon autumn rolls because they only come once a year.”

~~~

The second half of Stede’s day went much better than the first. Stede hadn’t gone with anyone to the Autumn Festival in years. It was so much more fun with a friend. They tried on scarves and hats, looked at art, and got an assortment of food from the food stalls. Stede cheeks hurt not just from the brisk cold, but from smiling and laughing the whole afternoon.

She willed herself to banish thoughts about how temporary this friendship was the whole time. Tis better to have loved and lost, or something, right?

The sun set on Bridgetown, and the entire square lit up with candles. It was enchanting and romantic. A band set up and started playing dance music, and Ed and Stede ate cups of beef stew while they watched couples dance.

“Do you know how to dance?” Ed asked.

“Of course. I’m fairly mediocre, though. Balance and… all that… it’s not where my skills lie.”

“I don’t know how to dance,” Ed said sadly.

“I could teach you… well…”

“Well what?”

“There’s two aspects to dancing,” Stede began. “Leading and following. Men lead and women follow. They’re mirrors of each other, two different sets of moves, two different sets of rules. I learned to follow. I could only teach you how to follow, and then we couldn’t really dance together… it’d be too silly, anyways.”

“We could figure it out,” Ed said. “I’m sure you’ve picked up some things on how to lead.”

“Yes, but…” Stede paused, trying to think of how best to explain the situation, when there was suddenly a blood curdling scream. The music suddenly halted, and everyone went quiet, save for whispers of “what was that?” and “what happened?”

“EVERYONE CLEAR A PATH!” a booming voice commanded. Stede sighed and rolled her eyes. It was Chauncey Badminton, chief of police, and Nigel Badminton, his lieutenant. They marched through the crowd, parting the sea of people, until the cause of the scream was revealed. A horrified young woman was clutching a pole, next to a dead body.

Ed clutched Stede’s hand, as the near empty stew bowl clattered onto the cobblestones.

Stede looked at Ed. She was pale and horrified. “Arnold Rivers,” she whispered.

“What happened here, ma’am?” Chauncey asked in a booming voice.

“He-he-he was-” the woman began, shaking even more than Ed. “He was- he was-”

“Spit it out, woman!” Nigel shouted.

“He was talking to me when he just dropped dead!” she cried, bursting into tears. “I didn’t touch him, I didn’t do anything, he was alive one minute and dead the next, I swear, I swear!”

“We believe you, ma’am,” Chauncey said in his best approximation of a comforting voice. “Nigel, gather the officers, get someone to fetch the coroner.”

Ed tugged on Stede’s hand. “We have to go. Now,” she whispered.

Stede nodded, left her bowl behind, and they left as quietly and inconspicuously as possible.

“Where are we going?” Stede whispered, once they were outside the festival.

“I dunno. Home,” Ed said.

“Your home?”

“Yeah.”

“No, we should go to my home.”

“Your home?!”

“It’s bigger. Safer. I can hide you there if need be.”

Ed looked at her for a moment with big eyes. “Okay,” she said.

~~~

They rushed to Stede’s home, but as soon as they opened the door they saw a commotion in the foyer. Stede froze and squeezed Ed’s hand tighter.

“Stede!” the two men said, in completely different tones. It was Marcus and Ricky, whom they’d caught in the middle of an argument.

“Stede, I’ve been looking for you!” Ricky said, elation in his eyes. “Did you hear what happened at the festival?”

“What happened?” Stede blurted out.

“A man died. Another victim of the witch,” Ricky said.

The room went silent, and the silence became increasingly tense.

Ricky and Marcus stared at Ed and Stede’s linked hands. Stede dropped Ed’s hand.

“I’m glad you’re home safe,” Marcus said. “Someone was accusing me of not looking after my wife better,” he added snarkily.

“I just think it’s a husband’s job to know where his wife is,” Ricky said haughtily, not looking at Marcus. “Especially when the town’s getting more dangerous by the day.”

“Bridgetown isn’t dangerous,” Stede said. “And I really am terribly tired, Ricky. Can we discuss this tomorrow?”

“Stede, the cops want in on our work now,” Ricky said, coming closer to her. “And we’ve barely begun!”

“I know,” Stede said softly. “But it’s been a very long day. Please, Ricky?” she asked, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

Ricky sighed. “Fine. Call on me tomorrow. Goodnight, Marcus, Stede, um…” Ricky said, looking at Ed.

Everyone’s attention finally turned to the stranger in their midsts, much to Ed’s horror. Ricky had seen her face now. He’d remember her now. This was bad.

“J-Jenny,” Ed said. “My name’s Jenny. Short for Jennifer.”

“Well, goodnight Jenny,” Ricky said quickly, before stomping out.

“Hi,” Marcus said awkwardly, stepping forward and holding out his hand. “Um… I’m Marcus, Stede’s husband.”

“Yes,” Ed said. “Jenny.”

“I’m very sorry about this,” Marcus said. “And I’m sorry to you too, Stede. I couldn’t get him to calm down.”

“It’s okay. I know you tried,” Stede said. “We’re going to have some tea now.”

“Oh, ok…”

~~~

Stede took Ed to the kitchens and made them both a cup of tea, and then collapsed in a chair.

“Why does nothing ever go right?” Stede asked, breaking the silence.

“Dunno…” Ed replied. “It’d be nice if it did.”

Stede stood up. “I need something stronger than tea.” She went to the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of brandy and two glasses. She poured a drink for both of them. They clinked their glasses and drank.

“That’s some damn good brandy,” Ed said.

“Only the best,” Stede said with a tired chuckle. “God…”

“Yeah…”

“Your husband seems… nice.”

“He’s terribly nice.”

“Ricky seems… not nice.”

“He’s such an asshole. I just…” Stede groaned, “I wish I could be rid of him.”

“I know someone who could help…” Ed said with a small smile.

Stede smiled back. “You do? You’re so talented yourself, they must be even smarter and prettier…”

“You think I’m pretty?”

Stede flushed, having realized what she said out loud. “Yes, I suppose, who wouldn’t? You’re beautiful, anyone can see that.”

“I think you’re pretty too. And smart. And talented.”

Stede went beet red and looked at the floor. “You’re very kind.”

“So are you.”

Stede finished her brandy and poured herself another. She drank it quickly and fussed with the lace on her sleeve.

“Do you really have to go?” Stede blurted out. “Really?”

“I do. Now more than ever. Ricky’s met me.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave either.”

“Then stay,” Stede said, putting her hand on top of Ed’s. “Just stay, Ed.”

“No,” Ed said, shaking her head. “20 years ago… I was in a coven. Me, Jack, Anne, Mary, and Felix, all run by this old horrid woman named Hornigold. It wasn’t a proper coven. None of us knew that at the time. Hornigold told us that this was how covens worked. There was the leader and her underlings, who did what she said. We were all too young to know better. Covens are supposed to be democratic and run by the collective. Not run by a dictator. We did what she told us, and we all had to wear charms that gave her access to our locations at all times. She didn’t care about staying safe, she just wanted money and power. But when the town started to crack down on us, none of us were allowed to run. She watched as Felix burned and told us that’s what happens when you’re not careful, as if it wasn’t her own fault Felix was caught.” Ed paused to wipe away tears. “After that, me and Jack decided to run away. We gave our charms to a pair of squirrels and ran. That day I vowed never to stay that long again. Felix was the best of us. She… she was sweet and a good person. She didn’t deserve that. She was 16.”

Stede found herself holding Ed in her arms. Ed cried, and Stede hugged her tight.

“I’m sorry,” Stede whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Ed composed herself and took a deep breath. “I should get out of your hair…”

“Let me take you home,” Stede pleaded. “We’ll take the carriage. It’ll be much faster and safer than walking.”

Ed shook her head. “Dalia Rivers may have already been arrested. She may have already cracked and put the blame on me. I can’t put you in danger like that.”

“Then just take the carriage. Just take a horse,” Stede begged.

“No, I can’t. Those are all too loud. If there’s police or even a mob at my home, I need to be able to slip away. I’m not worried about Izzy. She’s a cat, she can slip out of anywhere. We’ll meet at the rendezvous location and head off.”

Tears filled Stede’s eyes. “You mean, this could be… goodbye?”

Ed’s lower lip wobbled and she bit it. “Maybe,” she whispered.

They fell into each other harder, holding each other tight, both trying not to cry.

“It might not be,” Ed babbled. “They’re quite incompetent.”

Stede tried to chuckle. “I’ve known Chauncey and Nigel since we were children. Bunch of strong-headed idiots. And Ricky is too. They’re probably fighting amongst themselves over what lead to follow and accomplishing nothing.”

“Yeah,” Ed said with a sniff. “They’re probably just squabbling…”

They held onto each other for a bit longer in silence. Both were scared to break this moment.

“Sorry,” Ed whispered. “I have to go.”

Stede let her go and watched her stand up and ruffle out the wrinkles in her dress.

“I had a lovely time with you at the festival, until, y’know…” Ed said, with a sad, brave smile.

“I had a lovely time with you too.”

Stede stood up and walked Ed to the front door. They hugged again, and Stede asked to make sure Ed really wanted to walk home alone, which Ed confirmed.

Then Stede watched her go, walk down the path from their home, and disappear into the dark. She closed the door, and her eyes started to fill with tears. She slid down the door until she was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest.

“Stede…?”

Stede looked up, and saw Marcus standing at the other end of the foyer. He rushed over to her and bent down.

“Stede, what’s wrong?”

Stede sniffled and wiped her tears away. “Oh nothing, nothing… I’m just being sensitive and silly…”

Marcus frowned. “I don’t believe that. Something’s been up lately. First you were happier than I’ve ever seen you, then you show up with a new friend I’ve never heard of, and now you’re crying on the floor? And that’s not even mentioning Ricky showing up and telling me you’re helping him with a witch hunt. Why are you doing that? Who’s Jenny?”

Stede sniffled again and swallowed. “I thought we didn’t interfere with each other’s business,” she said coldly.

Marcus was taken aback, and then his face went stony as well. “Well… okay then.” He grabbed his coat off the coat hook and put it on. “I’m going out, Stede. Don’t expect me back until late.”

Stede blinked and stood up, so Marcus could have access to the door, and he left.

“Mum?”

Stede turned around, and Arthur was peeking from around a corner. Stede wiped her face and went over to him. “What’s wrong Artie?” she asked gently.

“Did you and dad just have a fight?”

Stede froze and tried to think of how to explain herself. “No, no no no, it’s ok, darling.”

Arthur looked at his feet. “Maybe you two should split up.”

“What?” Stede choked, before coughing. “No, don’t worry, that’s not going to happen. We’re married, remember?”

“I know…”

Stede patted Arthur’s head, and went upstairs to her dressing room, where she flopped down onto her bed and tried not to cry. She just wanted Ed to be safe and alive. Maybe she had to leave, but at least if she was safe and alive out there, Stede would probably be able to sleep every night.

But for now… she’d have to live without knowing.

Notes:

you can find me on tumblr @jellybeanium124