04-05-2017, 11:29 PM
Romek sent his young daughter to find her sister, leaving the two of them alone. Probably that was smart, better somehow, freed them to find the words that needed to be said without worrying how much little ears should hear.
That wasn't why Lilitha was grateful to watch the girl disappear back into the brush and the brambles.
There was enough might have been hanging in the air between them without a whole other almost-sister there too. The adopted twins, Romek’s firstborn twins, at least one other tiny daughter, and the years may well have blessed him with more little ones as well. All strangers who could have been family, in another life where the world hadn’t torn them so thoroughly apart.
Where they hadn’t let it.
She drew a long, slow breath in as they watched little Ana disappear, letting it out and steeling herself to meet his amber eyes as he turned to stare at her once again. Silence stretched out, awkward and endless in the air between them. Her heart ached, remembering how effortless it had once been to tuck herself up against his chest and cuddle close, stealing his warmth and basking in his quiet love of her.
She hadn’t expected him to be small, when he had always been so much larger than life in her memory. Tall and strong, those spots along his spine a beacon guiding her to the only place that had ever felt like home. She wouldn't fit there anymore, tucked beneath the curve of his neck where nothing could ever hurt her or break her heart and no one would ever throw her away again.
She hadn't for fit there in a long time, though, had she?
I should go, she thought as the uncomfortable silence stretched on. She had never meant to impose, and was about to apologize when he finally spoke her name again. It hurt a little less the second time, braced as she was for a painful goodbye. She didn’t fit here, she shouldn’t have come. But Reagan had said he was gone from these lands, and she’d just...needed to know for sure that she could.
“I made a mistake. I was wrong.”
She met his eyes, and her smile got a little heavier, a little sadder as he talked. “Was it a mistake, though? They needed you here. You would have been risking everything you’d worked so hard for, and with so many depending on you. Not just the others you led here, but your wife, your children. I never blamed you for staying with them, Romek. Look what Beqanna did to me for defending you. She wouldn’t have hesitated to do just as much to you, if not more. What else could you have done, with so many people counting on you?”
That he had looked for her, that he had thought of her, eased some of the hurt left from nearly three and a half years spent wandering alone. Maybe only a little, but it helped. “I looked for you too,” she whispered. Every day that first year, every snapping twig or crunching leaf, she’d looked up hoping to see him coming to find her, to check on her, to make sure she was okay.
When she’d still had her wings, she’d watched from the sky, never quite crossing Taiga’s borders but looking for him all the same. Looking for a glimpse of him, a flash of those glowing spots that had fascinated her so as a young girl. But it had hurt too damn much, looking into paradise when she’d been cast aside by the world itself, Taiga’s fallen daughter. It had almost been a blessing when her wings had burned away again, stripped away by the fire so she couldn’t torture herself trying to catch glimpses of the life she might have led.
She’d stopped looking for him then. There had been far too much pain in her life to make room for any more, the fire searing through her and setting her pain nerves alight with every touch. It had burned away the last of her hope, the last of her faith in the goodness of the world, a faith that had already been crushed by Beqanna herself. She’d known as she burned that no one was coming for her. She hadn’t thought of him every day, hadn’t let herself think of him very often from then on. But it helped, a little, that he’d thought of her.
He asked her to stay, and she hesitated a little longer. “I’m not that girl anymore, Romek. You...you weren’t wrong to think her lost forever. But I...I could try. I don’t know if...I don’t think I fit here, not after all this time. It might hurt too much, to be surrounded by strangers who could have been so much more. Would have been, in another life. But I could try.”
At least she thought she could. Still, she looked down at the border, half-expecting it would still be impossible. One step. Just one little step, and she would know. I’m scared, she didn’t tell him, because it had been so long since there had been someone to tell these things. So long since there had been anyone but herself to offer what little comfort she could and try to make that be enough. It had become second nature to keep it all inside, where no one could see how deeply she hurt.
So she didn’t ask for his help, didn’t ask for reassurance, didn’t lock her gaze with his to anchor her in his strength or his solid presence or the feeling of home that had once radiated from his skin. She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, swallowing hard and gathering her strength to try one last time to enter a land that had been forbidden to her for so long. Shaking almost imperceptibly, she raised one foot and extended it slowly, slowly forward. Her heart raced, her breath caught in her chest, and if she’d been alone she might have frozen, retracted into herself and dissolved into a frantic mess waiting for the world to knock her down again, to kick her in the stomach until her diaphragm spasmed and she couldn’t breathe, to spit on her prone body and turn its back once again.
If she’d been alone, she might have chickened out. But he was watching, and she damn well wouldn’t let anyone see her that weak. Least of all him. Just one step. It felt like it took an eternity, stretching her leg forward, refusing to look at him for fear he’d see in her golden eyes just how hard that one little step was.
Until her foot touched down on Taiga soil for the very first time. Relief flooded through her, nearly drowning her, welling up in her eyes and escaping as a single, solitary tear that trickled down her cheek. The second step was easier, and the third easier still, and before she knew it she was standing fully inside the border.
Her voice shook just a little as she turned to face him, still not looking into his eyes. Not when she couldn’t manage to pull herself together, still so raw and naked, still braced as she was for rejection from a world that had given her almost nothing but. “Would...would you show me around your home?”
That wasn't why Lilitha was grateful to watch the girl disappear back into the brush and the brambles.
There was enough might have been hanging in the air between them without a whole other almost-sister there too. The adopted twins, Romek’s firstborn twins, at least one other tiny daughter, and the years may well have blessed him with more little ones as well. All strangers who could have been family, in another life where the world hadn’t torn them so thoroughly apart.
Where they hadn’t let it.
She drew a long, slow breath in as they watched little Ana disappear, letting it out and steeling herself to meet his amber eyes as he turned to stare at her once again. Silence stretched out, awkward and endless in the air between them. Her heart ached, remembering how effortless it had once been to tuck herself up against his chest and cuddle close, stealing his warmth and basking in his quiet love of her.
She hadn’t expected him to be small, when he had always been so much larger than life in her memory. Tall and strong, those spots along his spine a beacon guiding her to the only place that had ever felt like home. She wouldn't fit there anymore, tucked beneath the curve of his neck where nothing could ever hurt her or break her heart and no one would ever throw her away again.
She hadn't for fit there in a long time, though, had she?
I should go, she thought as the uncomfortable silence stretched on. She had never meant to impose, and was about to apologize when he finally spoke her name again. It hurt a little less the second time, braced as she was for a painful goodbye. She didn’t fit here, she shouldn’t have come. But Reagan had said he was gone from these lands, and she’d just...needed to know for sure that she could.
“I made a mistake. I was wrong.”
She met his eyes, and her smile got a little heavier, a little sadder as he talked. “Was it a mistake, though? They needed you here. You would have been risking everything you’d worked so hard for, and with so many depending on you. Not just the others you led here, but your wife, your children. I never blamed you for staying with them, Romek. Look what Beqanna did to me for defending you. She wouldn’t have hesitated to do just as much to you, if not more. What else could you have done, with so many people counting on you?”
That he had looked for her, that he had thought of her, eased some of the hurt left from nearly three and a half years spent wandering alone. Maybe only a little, but it helped. “I looked for you too,” she whispered. Every day that first year, every snapping twig or crunching leaf, she’d looked up hoping to see him coming to find her, to check on her, to make sure she was okay.
When she’d still had her wings, she’d watched from the sky, never quite crossing Taiga’s borders but looking for him all the same. Looking for a glimpse of him, a flash of those glowing spots that had fascinated her so as a young girl. But it had hurt too damn much, looking into paradise when she’d been cast aside by the world itself, Taiga’s fallen daughter. It had almost been a blessing when her wings had burned away again, stripped away by the fire so she couldn’t torture herself trying to catch glimpses of the life she might have led.
She’d stopped looking for him then. There had been far too much pain in her life to make room for any more, the fire searing through her and setting her pain nerves alight with every touch. It had burned away the last of her hope, the last of her faith in the goodness of the world, a faith that had already been crushed by Beqanna herself. She’d known as she burned that no one was coming for her. She hadn’t thought of him every day, hadn’t let herself think of him very often from then on. But it helped, a little, that he’d thought of her.
He asked her to stay, and she hesitated a little longer. “I’m not that girl anymore, Romek. You...you weren’t wrong to think her lost forever. But I...I could try. I don’t know if...I don’t think I fit here, not after all this time. It might hurt too much, to be surrounded by strangers who could have been so much more. Would have been, in another life. But I could try.”
At least she thought she could. Still, she looked down at the border, half-expecting it would still be impossible. One step. Just one little step, and she would know. I’m scared, she didn’t tell him, because it had been so long since there had been someone to tell these things. So long since there had been anyone but herself to offer what little comfort she could and try to make that be enough. It had become second nature to keep it all inside, where no one could see how deeply she hurt.
So she didn’t ask for his help, didn’t ask for reassurance, didn’t lock her gaze with his to anchor her in his strength or his solid presence or the feeling of home that had once radiated from his skin. She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, swallowing hard and gathering her strength to try one last time to enter a land that had been forbidden to her for so long. Shaking almost imperceptibly, she raised one foot and extended it slowly, slowly forward. Her heart raced, her breath caught in her chest, and if she’d been alone she might have frozen, retracted into herself and dissolved into a frantic mess waiting for the world to knock her down again, to kick her in the stomach until her diaphragm spasmed and she couldn’t breathe, to spit on her prone body and turn its back once again.
If she’d been alone, she might have chickened out. But he was watching, and she damn well wouldn’t let anyone see her that weak. Least of all him. Just one step. It felt like it took an eternity, stretching her leg forward, refusing to look at him for fear he’d see in her golden eyes just how hard that one little step was.
Until her foot touched down on Taiga soil for the very first time. Relief flooded through her, nearly drowning her, welling up in her eyes and escaping as a single, solitary tear that trickled down her cheek. The second step was easier, and the third easier still, and before she knew it she was standing fully inside the border.
Her voice shook just a little as she turned to face him, still not looking into his eyes. Not when she couldn’t manage to pull herself together, still so raw and naked, still braced as she was for rejection from a world that had given her almost nothing but. “Would...would you show me around your home?”