WHO Adam & Persephone WHERE Fox Way WHEN August 12th late afternoon. WHAT Tarot practice and parental pride. STATUS Complete! WARNINGS Some thoughts of death and sadness, crappy parenting.
This was not the standard practice session with Persephone. Adam had come over with intention, to get advice from the one person who could stop his train of thought in its tracks, if it was actually going to be a horrific idea. But he was easily derailed by tea and pie, and the stack of tarot cards in the middle of the table. After being told to cut the deck three times, in three different ways, because everything was better in threes, Adam had spent the last thirty minutes placing his hand on the top of the deck and determining the feel of what was beneath before showing them to Persephone.
He wasn't sure if this was a testament to the inability to let go of some control, or if this was simply to test how intune with the world he was, but the percentage of cards he guessed correctly was slowly shifting from fifty to seventy-five percent. That was still a C in academic standard, and Adam was not someone who would allow himself to get Cs.
Always an aggressive overachiever, even in things that weren't graded. It was the principle, and Adam's desire to not fail himself.
"Ten of Swords," Adam said, flipping over the card for Persephone's approval. But as he went for the next one, the deck felt warmer than before, electric and pulsing. This was his card, interfering with his lesson. He flipped the Two of Wands, unsurprised. He knew, he knew.
A manifestation of decisions. Take a risk or stay put. Long term plans needing actionable items.
"Do you know what I'm already going to ask?" It wasn't that he minded if she did, only that Adam was struggling to find the right words to bring it up all together, despite the fact that the idea had been slipping in and out of his mind since Cabeswater showed up.
Persephone leaned back in her chair, casual and calm, collected as she always was. Tea in hand, she had continued drinking it well into Adam’s lesson, on her third cup now. She might regret it later, but it was a better option than just filling the little cup with vodka as they worked.
Well, as Adam worked. Persephone had infinite patience, the kind that she was hoping would wear off on him, and knew eventually they would get there. She had known he would get it right this time, and her smile beyond the cup said as much. Adam had already taken the card as a launching point into his true reasoning for being here, and she’d expected that as well.
One didn’t need to be psychic to tell that Adam Parrish always had a lot on his mind.
“People still like asking things,” she gave as a non-answer, on purpose, because she knew he’d get it and possibly be lovingly annoyed with her over it. “I wouldn’t want to take that away from you.”
If it were anyone else, Adam would have become frustrated by the vagueness of Persephone. Adam liked to deal with facts, data, and things he could physically see and feel. Anything less felt complicated and distrustful, needing a closer examination and analytical approach about what was or wasn't being said between the lines. However, Adam was used to this by now—the easy way she opened up the conversation for Adam to still have control, to explain what he needed to without misinterpretation of assumption.
He drew his hands back to the edge of the table, away from the cards. Adam was internally pacing his way through the question. Persephone had taken some of the guesswork out her reaction. Not that Adam expected it to be bad (okay, maybe a little bad); he had not had great luck previously with sentient forests. There had been a lot to consider. But Persephone was unbiased, she hadn't been around when everything had gone to shit and how badly being connected with Cabeswater had gone in the end.
Adam was given to many undeserving second chances, he couldn't let them go to waste.
"I think—" No, that wasn't right. He didn't think he wanted to. He wanted to. There was no indecisiveness about it. Adam took a deep breath, and said, strong and sure, "I want to bond with Cabeswater. Again." That wasn't a question. He glanced down and away, then back to her. "Is it a bad idea?"
Boys. Persephone sighed into her cup, knowing this was coming and still, it gave her pause. There was a lot to unpack with Cabeswater alone, even knowing more than she had when she’d first arrived. Her unbiased position was marred, and less biased than Adam knew. She saw a lot of herself in him, but not just that, she had a great need to comfort Adam.
He deserved a great deal better than what he’d been raised with, and had slowly been finding it. It wasn’t something Persephone could give him, she knew that, but the instinct to nurture was there, and not as easy to stamp down as she thought it would be.
Telling him no wasn’t on the plate, however. She didn’t do that, with him, or Blue, or … really, anyone. Even her arguments with Calla didn’t put Persephone in the position of drawing hard lines. So she just took in his body language and stared him down in a way that usually made people uncomfortable. “That depends. Why do you want to?”
Adam did not shy away from hard questions, and being interrogated by his intentions with Persephone was softer and gentler than the conversation he was ultimately going to have with Ronan and Gansey. This was almost like an audition, a practice for how well his determination and resolve could hold up against people who might not agree with his choices.
"I know that the last time, the circumstances that brought us together were not ideal. I gave up a lot for Cabeswater when I wasn't sure what I was even giving up. I sacrificed—too much." On the surface level, offering Cabeswater his hands and eyes seemed small to the outside observer, but it had cost him his agency, a level of control that he wasn't truly ready to risk. It had been impulsive, dangerous, so unlike Adam.
"And I know, I know that Cabeswater was not the source of what I can do," Adam said, looking at the cards in front of him and knowing inherently that the next one was the Magician, and the one after that the Ace of Pentacles, Strength, the Knight of Cups, the Three of Wands—Adam would always be tapped into the world, and knowing, but the chaos would always be overwhelming to him. "But there is a piece of me that is always going to belong to Cabeswater. And with it being here, I can't ignore the pull I feel to it. The calm and the wildness and the magic. If we just had a mutual connection, one that was not built like it was previously..."
There was a desperation to his voice that had climbed and climbed as he spoke, he could feel himself yearning for something more, for Persephone to understand. "I could help everyone. Cabeswater gave itself because we asked, but what if there are things it needs? All it ever wanted was to protect us and care for us, and I want to give back, equally. The forest and its magician, like I’m supposed to be.”
Persephone leaned forward slowly, reaching out to place her hand on top of his. It was a calculated move, quiet and soft, a gentle touch that he could have easily removed himself from if it made him uncomfortable, and light enough to be a steady warmth. Adam had felt enough pain from hands that she would only ever give him something good to grasp onto.
“You are enough,” She met his gaze straight on, not something Persephone did often. “With or without a magical forest. You are enough for them, and for you.” It was important she got that out of the way, to give Adam that booster first. She’d had a fair few conversations on lighter notes with all of her ladies of Fox Way over the years on similar topics of self-worth. It was just as important here as it had been then, a desire to help someone know where they fit in.
“That said,” her smile turned soft, gentle and welcome, like a breeze just came through the room. “You are connected even if you do not bond, you always will have a piece of Cabeswater in you. There’s no reason to deny yourself that.”
Unexpected contact still managed to throw Adam, but he was less likely to pull away. Persephone reaching for his hand was immediately welcomed, and he squeezed back. There was so much talk of grounding with magic, but what about grounding in the real world? In the present? Persephone could do that, this was enough.
"Sometimes," Adam said, closing his eyes and only finding darkness instead of the comfort of the forest he had longed for and had missed. "I don't know if I can be anything more without Cabeswater. I may have a piece with me, but it feels empty, unused. Until recently, until a piece of it showed up at the Barns."
When he opened his eyes and saw Persephone smiling, he couldn't help but smile back. It was a confused, uncertain thing—he wanted to be happy with the possibility of doing something he thought was lost. Just when he had started to understand. Adam wanted someone to understand his insatiable need to be a completionist, a perfectionist, to find every answer and go down every path.
"And what I have is enough for anyone, and I don't need to have the connection, but I want more. I was doing things I had no right in doing before, but I've learned, I'm learning. The potential feels huge." And then he added, softer and hesitant, "Is it wrong to not be content with what I have?"
As with most of their conversations, Persephone wanted to draw him into her arms and hug him as he deserved, but held off for now. The hand was nice, and the tangible connection she gave him in return. He might not have known it, but it helped her as well, brought her back to something that made Persephone remember when she was much younger.
It had been a different time, and she had seen a great deal in her life, but admittedly had become complacent in a great deal of that as time went on. Time was so silly of a concept that she hadn’t expected to find herself bored and in a way, lonely. Lonely despite the fact that she was surrounded by a house of exceptional women. She still saw herself in this struggling young man.
“It is never wrong to want more for yourself. No one should ever just be content.” Persephone squeezed his hand. “But you will always be more, with or without Cabeswater. It does not define your greatness.”
Persephone stared straight into that greatness as it was budding and growing around her. It had already grown so much while she was gone, and she was sad to have missed it. Eventually, she nodded, as if that answered some unasked question. “You know your right path, coca-cola.”
His greatness. Adam subscribed greatness to Gansey. To Ronan. There was nothing great that he could find about himself without the help of other people. Sure, he had searched for it, worked for it, was better about believing it. But Persephone with looking right at him and saying it, the word felt charged with more purpose than he could dig up inside himself. His chest hurt with it, an emotion he wasn't used to feeling filling up inside.
Adam nodded, then nodded again, as if he was coming to terms with a decision. He hadn't been unsure of his bond with Cabeswater, but he had been uncertain if it was needed. If he was being selfish for wanting something like that again. But it wouldn't be the same; Adam was sure of that. And now that he was allowed to think through the possibilities he would be careful, considerate, and cautious. There wasn't a rush aside from his own anticipation. No one was going to die.
There was a choice laid out for him, and this time he could pick for himself and not in spite of someone else.
He looked at the cards again, spread across the table, and then to their linked hands. "You've known longer than I have," Adam said, his voice curious. "Is it safe? I know that will be one of the first questions they're going to ask when I tell them."
Persephone got out of her seat, and moved just enough around the table to lean in and give Adam’s forehead a gentle kiss. She smoothed his hair out of his face as one does to teenagers that insist on not getting haircuts as frequently as they should. Persephone followed up the sweet movement by snagging her teacup and moving over to the nearby table with her kettle and Maura’s loose tea, it was easier to do idle things than it was to connect with Adam when she had to know things.
“It’s safe, for now.” Not meaning to make it sound so ominous, she shrugged arily. “But I think that’s only because of the nature of this place. Vallo is difficult to read, and things change. The others will be there to help if it goes sideways.” She was confident in that, and it was clear in her voice.
With fresh tea now steeping, Persephone turned back to look at him with her clear eyes. “Hold out for something better than twizzlers, please.”
Adam froze. Not in a bad way, not the kind that said I don't like this. But in a good way, the kind that didn't know how to react to something so appropriately affectionate. The kind that came from people showing a level of warmth and tenderness often given to children. Adam's inability to react for a second, two, ten, came from the unexpectedness of it, the unfamiliarity of being kissed on the forehead and taken care of in a way that should have been given to him years ago.
He blinked, trying to rein in his emotions that had suddenly been cut loose inside him. It took a second to mentally stumble back into the conversation, noticing that Persephone was steeping tea and Adam had missed her move away.
"For now," Adam echoed. "I have to consider what I can offer that won't absolutely throw Vallo off balance too." His voice trailed off, already starting to be lost to that over-analytical side, pulling up options and trying to sort through them now, because his patience was anxious and frayed.
That was until his thoughts were interrupted by the mention of twizzlers. Adam smiled and ducked his head, suddenly shy. He knew exactly what context she meant. "I would be okay with twizzlers. I know you said I don't have to be content with things but there are some I can be for."
Persephone was quiet while she let that rattle around in her brains. He had given too much before, and she had helped him learn to cope with that. Less was better, but magic was not always sated so easily, especially something as all encompassing as Cabeswater was.
But it liked Adam. It was drawn to him, and all of their group, there was no mistaking the pull of that. It would be forgiving, it would be kind. It just needed something, and she wasn’t quite sure what.
She was sure that Adam knew, somewhere in him. She turned back to her tea with a messy swing of her hair and indecisive look on her face. “Hm. Don’t become Ariel.” Vague, yet not. As helpful as always, she was internally happy with that suggestion as she finished up her cup of tea so she could turn back to him. “There will always be twizzlers, but--” She gave him a little salute with her teacup. “It will only improve.”
Adam should have been better about picking up on Persephone's ambiguity. He knew it was part of her charm and possibly not to have any control over the future by giving specifics, but hindsight in her words was not helpful in the present. Adam smiled, confused and amused; he committed the words to memory, for safe-keeping later. That was one constant—they would always be needed later.
"I'm finding," Adam started to say, as Persephone saluted him, "That a lot of things are improving. And a lot of them are because I'm doing things I wouldn’t have been able to do before. Or wouldn't have wanted to do before." Harvard, distance, ignoring that innate magical greatness inside of him, those were all things he thought he needed to survive. In reality, it was holding him back.
"Can we keep going?" Adam asked, looking to the deck. If he was going to make any more informed decisions about Cabeswater and this future, it would be with Persephone around and practice. He cut the deck, then pulled out two cards from the middle and held them both up to her for confirmation. The Magician. The Empress. "Me. And you."
“You’re improving.” Persephone hummed a little into her teacup, looking over the cards as they moved around his graceful hands. She never had to correct him, because Adam was always much harder on himself than she could ever be. She couldn’t begrudge him that, either, because she did remember the time fondly when she was far younger and still learning a great deal herself.
That was a lifetime ago, but it didn’t matter. The here and now mattered, the magic, the place, the second chance. In the general context, she didn’t see herself as an Empress (Persephone was far too modest for that, even if others would disagree with her), but in this case, it was fitting - she knew it to be true, as well, and smiled in the most accepting of ways at him, full of warmth and pride. “You must be feeling in tune now. You’re up to a B, at the very least.”
She gestured to the cards in front of him. “One more. Cabeswater - and interpret it. It will help.”
Adam let out a soft laugh. A B was never going to be good enough for him, not when an A was achievable. Of course, Persephone would play to that side of him, nudge him that direction. And although Adam sounded charmed by the grading system, inside he was rawly determined to impress Persephone.
He didn't have to think, when Adam tapped into the world on a conscious level, it was second nature. Like breathing, blinking, just existing. No one has to consider being a person—perhaps the meaning of their existence, sure. But touching the cards, searching for Cabeswater, that was an extension of himself.
Cutting through the deck, less gracefully than his usual nimble hands allowed, Adam drew the Two of Cups. "Cabeswater," Adam said, as his fingers ran along the edges, slow and with reverence. "There's unification that's mutually beneficial, and respect. It's reaching higher planes of consciousness and intuition together." Adam paused, considering that the card did not have a single entity in the image, but two people twining around one another.
"Cabeswater can exist alone, just like any of us can. But it needs someone else. Someone who understands."
Persephone’s smile only grew as she looked over at him, proud to have taught this young man such a great deal, and equally proud he had still managed to find his own way without her. It was similar to watching Blue grow up and find her own way, as well, while being the wild and cool aunt on the side. Persephone knew that she could let Adam run free, if he was ready.
But she selfishly liked having him stick around. And was all too happy to give him a gentle nod of encouragement. She continued to sip her tea, as if not having a true single care in the world while watching him. “Almost like a relationship. A marriage of two entities.” She could breeze through a great deal of conversation with vagueness and just that hit of a child-like smile on her face, and now was no exception.
Hopefully, Adam could read the humor on her face as she moved a little closer to him and put a delicate hand on his shoulder. “Almost as if Cabeswater has favorites, and a connection that might like a certain Magician just a little better.”
"Being favorites with a sentient forest would cause some people to run the other way," Adam mused, still contemplative of the card. He grew quiet, and for a moment tuned out the room and its ambient noise. Even the light seemed dimmer.
A marriage, a relationship. Adam thought of his closeness with Ronan and how that was built upon knowing another person, and allowing himself to be knowable and vulnerable in a way that scared him. Adam thought of his friendship with Gansey, created from trust and respect, filled with a loyalty that was unfounded because Gansey was cut from the same cloth, even if their experiences growing up wildly differed.
And with Persephone's hand on his shoulder, he thought of what he had with her—someone who appreciated him for his strengths and his faults, who nurtured even the smallest fragments of potential.
If he was going to recreate his bond with Cabeswater, Adam knew what he had to offer.
The hand with the card dropped to the table, while the other reached across his body to hold her hand. He looked up, matching that same gentle smile she had offered him before. "Thank you. I don't know if I say it enough. And I don't want to forget to, in case."
Persephone squeezed his hand in return, and his shoulder with it. It was easy to provide that comfort, even if that in case made her sad. But the sadness was fleeting, as the moment was here and now and there was no point in dwelling on it. They couldn’t predict the absolute future, no one could, but little pieces and little parts of it, they could lean into. Embrace.
She knew she had nothing to go back to, should that change, so embracing was all she had. The thought process wasn’t one she wanted, though, and Persephone’s eyes took on a far-off look for a second before she snapped back into herself and leaned down to kiss the top of his head in a gesture similar to before.
The blonde gently detangled herself from him but gestured for Adam to follow her to the kitchen, should he so wish. She needed something different now, before any dark thoughts wormed their way in. “If you really want to thank me, you’ll come help me work on test pies for Pie Club. Come on, coca-cola.”
A strange sense of nostalgia came over Adam as Persephone kissed his head and then pulled away, It bordered on sadness. Letting her slip away was never something Adam wanted to experience again, but his fears in this moment were too big and unfounded. He nodded instead, pushing himself up from the table.
"I—yes, I'm coming," Adam said quickly, shuffling the tarot cards back into the pile. His fingers danced over the top card. Adam made the last minute choice to flip it over, leaving it face up on the table as he followed after Persephone. It was the Chariot—determination and courage, telling Adam to stay the course, or as Gansey would have said, excelsior.