Work Text:
For as long as Aelwyn can remember, she has been expected to be perfect.
She’s not sure when the distinction was made in her parents’ heads, that she was the perfect daughter and Adaine was not, but it was a distinction that shaped much of Aelwyn’s formative years. She strove for greatness, but looking back, she’s unsure of how much of her perfectionism was for herself and how much was for her parents.
For a while, she could convince herself that it was okay. Throughout her early schooling, she kept her head down, did her work dutifully so that she could get into Hudol. Who cared if the stress brought her to tears, sometimes, stifled by a fist to the mouth, or that Adaine was being treated like a second class citizen a wall away? It was fine. She would continue to work herself to the bone, to pick fights with her sister, and everything would be as it should be.
Her parents would be proud of her.
When she got to Hudol, it was clear that things couldn’t keep going the way that they were, the stress of school, and of the pressure of her parents - though she doesn’t let herself dwell on that too much - reaching a boiling point.
The partying started innocently enough; Hudol boys are a very specific kind of awful, and she could almost taste the desparation rolling off of them. It was easy enough to begin to manufacture parties and girls for them, and it was even easier to invite people from neighboring schools and really lose herself in the atmosphere she created.
It was at one of these parties that she met Penelope Everpetal, hanging off the arm of a boy she later learned was Dayne. That night is a blur to Aelwyn now, but she remembers talking to Penelope for the majority of the night, instantly charmed by her bright, bubbly persona, and she awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and a text from Penelope.
She and Penelope got along like a house on fire, which was fun at first, and certainly made the parties infinitely more interesting. But soon, Penelope was asking her to do things for her, keep tabs on this girl, watch around the corner while she goes to do a mysterious something, and soon it becomes more, Aelwyn sinking the Harpy and trapping a girl in a crystal while high off her ass and attacking her sister and-
And then she’s taken to prison, and it sucks, but maybe it’s better. She was losing herself, she knows now, things spiraling too far out of her control for her to even begin to figure out how she got there.
She doesn’t remember her time in Calethriel Towers, and she thinks it’s for the better. Everything that Adaine has told her about her limited experience makes Aelwyn glad she had the foresight to preserve her mind from that.
(Despite that, she still feels the trauma of it, something of a phantom limb. She doesn’t remember, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen. Sometimes, she’ll be doing something and a terror so acute will strike her that she can’t breathe, vision swimming. She’s working on it)
She made it to the right side, eventually, made and with it, made amends with Adaine. She realizes, now, how truly awful her parents were, treating her like the perfect child she never was to earn her trust, and casting Adaine away completely in the process.
She’s done truly awful, awful things, things she can never forgive herself for. Sometimes, at night, staring at the ceiling with Adaine sleeping in the bunk below her, she turns over every horrible deed she’s committed, and hates herself with such vitriol she can taste it.
She hates herself a lot of the time, yes, but other people don’t seem to.
She feels cared about, a feeling she’s completely unused to. It’s strange, but not entirely unwelcome.
-
Very soon after returning from the Forest of the Nightmare King, Jawbone makes Aelwyn see a therapist.
Her therapist is a dwarven woman, Dr. Windstone. She’s in her 40s, and the nicest woman Aelwyn has ever met. Even still, it takes quite a few sessions for Aelwyn to feel comfortable enough to truly open up to her about anything meaningful.
Aelwyn had always had limited knowledge about what therapy truly was. She had thought that it was only for people who needed to be “fixed,” and that after a couple of sessions, exactly that would happen. She didn’t know that she would end up leaving most sessions feeling worse than she did before, because it was becoming increasingly harder for her to hide from the things that she had carefully repressed. Like:
The fact that she is currently at a party with her sister’s friends, but, more importantly, with the girls she had either directly or indirectly worked to trap in crystals a little over a year ago. She sticks to the outskirts of the party, nursing a red solo cup of soda (she’s trying to stay sober, now), and trying and failing to control her breathing.
It’s moments like this when she, fleetingly, wishes that she was still the wild partier she was a year ago, or at least how she was at the beginning, before Penelope. Now, the crowd feels a little too big, the music a little too loud, the smell of alcohol a little too strong. Her skin itches with it.
She spends quite a bit of time hugging the wall, no one really noticing or acknowledging her presence, until she’s approached by Sam Nightingale.
Instinctively, her skin alights with nerves, because Sam would be well within her rights to yell at her, or get physical, or use any of her sorcery against her. Sam does none of that, however; instead, she takes up position leaning on the wall next to Aelwyn.
Neither of them talk for a few minutes, but the silence is surprisingly comfortable, helping ease the tension coursing through Aelwyn’s body. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s not truly silent - they are at a party, after all. But Aelwyn can feel her shoulders dropping, minutely, but dropping nonetheless.
“Just so you know, I don’t forgive you for your part in everything,” Sam remarks, breaking the silence between the two of them. She speaks quietly and stares straight ahead, as if she’d had to work up the courage to say that, and she’s still unsure if she should have. Aelwyn had expected something like this, but even still, guilt and fear and self-hatred squeeze her heart painfully. Before she can respond, Sam continues, “But. You knew Penelope, and - the Maidens, I love them, but they don’t understand that part. Not completely. You, at least, can get that.”
It’s not at all what Aelwyn was expecting, and she strongly suspects that Sam wouldn’t have sought her out without the aid of the drink in her hand, but everything that Sam is saying is true. She’s not really sure how to respond, though, so she doesn’t, but she does hum in acknowledgment of the truth in what Sam had said.
Silence befalls them once more, until Penny and Katja come up to Sam, giggling, and pull her away from where they’re standing. That should be the end of it.
It isn’t.
-
Things are slow at Mordred Manor following the party, which is both good and bad; she’s so used to always pushing herself to do better, be better, that the slowness feels unnatural, something she has to force herself to enjoy. But she finds that, sometimes, she does enjoy it: baking with Fig and Tracker, watching TV with Ragh, talking in her room with Adaine. The old Aelwyn never could’ve had this - she’s not sure if she would have even wanted it.
A couple of weeks after the party, she gets a text from Sam: im @ the manor lol are u home?
Aelwyn’s first thought is to question how Sam got her number, until she realizes it was probably from Penelope way back when. The realization aches, somewhere deep in her bones, and before she can think about it, she replies yeah, ill come down be right there.
She opens the door to see Sam standing there, eyes red-rimmed and faint tear tracks staining her face, but she smiles when she sees Aelwyn. “Hello,” she says, letting herself in and sitting on the couch.
“Hi,” Aelwyn responds, confused. She hadn’t expected - this. She’s not quite sure what to make of it. “What’s up?” As she says this, Sam’s face crumples, and silent tears begin to roll down her face.
Aelwyn freezes, unsure what to do. She’s never had many friends, never allowed herself to, and the ones she did have never really shared feelings. This is completely foreign to her.
She sits on the couch next to Sam, not quite touching, but nearly. “Sorry, sorry,” Sam says, voice thick with tears. “It’s the anniversary of Penelope & I becoming friends,” she continues, and the weight of it sits between them for a moment. “I just - everything feels like so much. The - the trauma, I guess, and the guilt. I don’t know.” She sighs, wiping at her eyes.
Aelwyn, going out on a limb, reaches out a hand and places it on Sam’s knee. “Well,” she starts slowly, “my therapist says that trauma is messy. I think this reaction is normal.” She has no idea if what she’s saying is helpful, but Sam’s tears do seem to slow. She takes a deep breath, wiping at her face.
“Thank you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you,” Sam says, voice quiet. It breaks Aelwyn’s heart, a little, how small Sam seems to be trying to make herself, how unobtrusive she’s trying to be.
“You don’t need to apologize. If anything, I should. I - I get it if you still can’t forgive me, but I am so deeply sorry for everything that happened.” It doesn’t feel like an adequate response for the true horrors of everything Sam experienced, but she sees Sam smile, just a bit, and thinks that maybe it was alright. Sam doesn’t respond, though, and Aelwyn continues, “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you come here?”
Sam sighs, moving her gaze from her lap to the ceiling, still refusing to look at Aelwyn. “I guess - I was so mad at you, for so long, but I don’t think it was ever truly about you. I mean, what you did was awful, yes, but - it was so much easier to be mad at you,” than Penelope, Aelwyn can hear in Sam’s voice without her needing to say it. She gets it, placing blame on whoever’s closest. Hell, she did it with Adaine for most of their childhood.
“And now?”
“I think - I don’t want to be mad at you, anymore?” She says it like a question, but even so, it makes Aelwyn’s heart beat a little faster.
“I think I like the sound of that.”
-
In Fabian’s room at Seacaster Manor, Aelwyn sits gingerly on the edge of his bed. Fabian sits next to her, though they don’t touch.
It’s the first time she’s been truly alone with Fabian since asking him out. If it were a year ago, they would already be making out, and Aelwyn would probably be high or drunk or both. But it’s not, and now, Aelwyn feels extremely uncomfortable.
She turns to face Fabian to speak, but he starts to say something at the same time, and they both break off, eager to let the other speak first. God, Aelwyn thinks, things were so much easier when I didn’t care.
Ultimately, Fabian speaks first. “This is weird, isn’t it?”
Aelwyn sighs, dropping her gaze back to her thighs. “Yes, I was thinking the same thing,” she says. They had gone to dinner, made perfectly fine conversation, but nothing had been particularly striking. Their talk consisted mostly of riling each other up, each trying to get the upper hand, but Aelwyn has found that she doesn’t quite find that as thrilling as she once had, and she has a sneaking suspicion that Fabian feels the same. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
She expects Fabian to protest; from what she’s gathered from the other Bad Kids, Fabian was very attached to the idea of Aelwyn for a long time. However, instead he just replies, “Yes, I believe it was.”
That’s how they end things, with Aelwyn grabbing her bag and leaving, apologizing to Fabian - for wasting his time, for thinking that they could possibly still work, for any of it, for all of it. She’s not particularly torn up about it; after all, he had just been an exciting fling for her, another in a long list of boys she’d seen as a means to an end.
She talks to Kristen about it, back at Mordred Manor, because Kristen happens to be in the kitchen when she returns. As she’s describing the shift in her feelings towards Fabian, Kristen makes a face “What?” Aelwyn asks, and Kristen shakes her head.
“Nothing, nothing. Just sounds familiar, is all,” she says, which doesn’t help Aelwyn at all.
“What sounds familiar?”
“Oh, just how you talk about getting with guys. Seems like the kind of stuff I would tell myself about guys before I realized I’m gay.”
Aelwyn is struck silent, not at all the answer she was expecting. Kristen is still talking, but Aelwyn doesn’t process any of it, her brain is working in overdrive. She mulls over and over and over every interaction she’s had with guys; she never felt particularly attached to anyone that she got with, but that was just because it was never serious, wasn’t it?
Although -
She does remember once, when she was still in middle school, when she’d been asked out by one of the guys at her school, and she’d immediately felt uncomfortable. She’d told herself at the time that it was just because he was so not her type, that she had too much pressure already to study so that she could get into Hudol.
But, she also remembers lying in her bed that night, mulling over what-ifs about that encounter, and her mind immediately going to what her parents would think if Aelwyn, their perfect daughter, was -
She forces herself to stop spiraling about this, forces herself to shut down completely, at least until Kristen isn’t sitting across from her. “Interesting” is all she says, and Kristen shrugs, pulling out her crystal.
Aelwyn gets up, goes to her room to change out of her date outfit, considering what Kristen had said. It scares her, thinking about the implications of it all. She resolves not to think about it.
-
She does okay, not thinking about it, distracting herself with her new relationship with Sam. They aren’t friends, right away, but when parties are thrown at Mordred Manor, they often find each other and talk for a little, or even just sit together in silence. A few weeks into the charade, it finally changes. Sam texts Aelwyn again, going to the mall u wanna come w?
She texts back that she does, and Sam picks her up. It’s the first time that they’re really, truly hanging out together, and Aelwyn’s stomach fills with a sort of excited nervousness.
Aelwyn has never been to the Elm Valley Mall, her parents strictly forbidding her to ever be seen there, and Sam delights in dragging her from store to store, trying on clothes and laughing over mall pretzels. It’s surprisingly fun, and not as awkward as Aelwyn had feared it would be. It turns out, Sam and Aelwyn get along great, and it makes Aelwyn feel proud to have a friend that isn’t just putting up with her, or only friends with her because of her sister.
They continue hanging out after that, most often in one of their rooms, talking and watching TV and doing each others’ makeup. Aelwyn could have never imagined feeling this close to someone, and it thrills her. She feels unstoppable, when she’s with Sam.
It’s during one of these hangouts, in Sam’s room with Aelwyn painting Sam’s nails (a soft peach, “It’ll look great against your complexion,” Aelwyn had promised), when Sam looks up at Aelwyn through her eyelashes, and time seems to freeze.
Suddenly, she’s filled with adoration and trust and something that feels awfully close to love, striking her so hard that she’s terrified. Despite her horrible track record with friendship, she does know what that familial, platonic sort of love feels like; it’s what she feels towards Adaine, and even to some extent, Adaine’s friends. This, though, feels different, all-encompassing and overwhelming and terrifying, her heart bursting with it.
Her hand has stilled on top of Sam’s, and Sam raises her eyebrow in a question. Aelwyn shakes her head, forcing herself to refocus on painting Sam’s nails, but the feeling doesn’t disappear.
For the rest of the night, Aelwyn has to work to keep herself present, to stay out of her own head, but she knows it only half works, if the looks Sam shoots her periodically are anything to go by.
She leaves a few hours later, and it’s only when the door closes, and Aelwyn’s alone on Sam’s porch, that the gravity of her realization truly sinks in.
Fuck.
-
The thing is.
The thing is, she’d been doing such a good job compartmentalizing, of not thinking about her conversation with Kristen, and now all of that has been completely upturned, because she’s pretty sure she’s gone and fallen in love with her first true friend.
God, she’s so, completely fucked.
And now, she can’t stop thinking about it. She’s distracted all the time, bumps right into Fig while making breakfast, spaces out during Mordred Manor’s weekly movie night. It consumes her every waking moment, this truth about herself that she doesn’t dare name.
People notice, of course. Sandra Lynn shoots her a few concerned glances, and Jawbone definitely knows something’s up. They don’t ask her about it, though, which she’s thankful for.
She ignores texts from Sam, and if she does reply, she lies and says that she can’t hang out today, sorry, she’s just so busy, and she spends most of her days on her crystal, not really present.
After a week of this, Adaine finally presses. “Okay, this is getting annoying. What’s going on?”
Aelwyn’s still not used to Adaine being so direct, and it’s usually a pleasant surprise. She secretly loves it, feels like they’re finally on an even playing field. Now, though, she resents it, because she knows she’s been caught, that she can’t run anymore.
Still, she tries. “Everything’s quite alright, Adaine. No need to worry,” she says, trying her hardest to make her voice come out light, nonchalant.
Adaine snorts a laugh. “Oh, I’m not worried, but I do know that something’s up.” She crosses their room, sits on her bed next to Aelwyn, voice suddenly serious. “You can talk to me.”
Aelwyn sighs, closing her eyes. If she’s going to talk, she can’t let herself see Adaine’s reactions. “Mum and Dad fucked me up more than I realized.” Adaine hums in agreement, but doesn’t say anything else. Aelwyn’s gut churns, knowing there’s no way out of this conversation now, nothing left for her but to push forward. “I think I’m a lesbian.”
It’s the first time she’s said it outloud, even thought about herself and the word “lesbian” in the same context, and it equal parts frees and terrifies her. Adaine is silent, and she knows, logically, that Adaine is just thinking of a response, that half of her friends are gay anyway, but the silence still makes her heart beat faster, her palms sweat.
“I love you, Aelwyn,” Adaine says, and tears spring to Aelwyn’s eyes, unbidden. Adaine’s said it before, but it feels heavier, now.
Aelwyn swallows thickly, murmuring, “Thank you, Adaine. I love you as well.”
A silence falls between them for a moment, enough for Aelwyn’s heart rate to return to normal, for her to wipe at her eyes, praying that Adaine can’t see. Seemingly out of nowhere, Adaine laughs. “What?” Aelwyn asks, a smile already in her voice.
“Oh, just that Mum and Dad would’ve hated that,” Adaine says, and it’s awful and would have been devastating to hear even just a few minutes ago, but it still coaxes a laugh out of Aelwyn.
“Yes, well, I assume that’s why I was so repressed,” she shoots back, and Adaine grins at her, and for the first time in a while, Aelwyn feels like she’s going to be okay.
-
It still takes Aelwyn another day to text Sam back. She feels awful about it, ignoring her for so long, but she still doesn’t feel ready to talk to her. Telling Sam carries much more than telling Adaine did, after all.
She finally bites the bullet, asking Sam if she wants to meet at a park between their two houses, and Sam texts back immediately, already on my way.
The entire ride there, Aelwyn can’t stop panicking. Fleetingly, she wishes that she didn’t care so much about Sam, that she was just someone who didn’t mean anything to Aelwyn, like all the guys who came before her. She knows that kind of thinking only hurt her, in the past, but it was at least easier to deal with than this terror of losing her best friend.
Her heart clenches immediately when she spots Sam, who’s sitting on a park bench, looking at her crystal. She looks up as Aelwyn approaches and smiles, though it seems more guarded than usual.
“Hello,” Aelwyn says, standing awkwardly in front of Sam. She feels so out of place, in a way that is unnatural to her.
“You can sit,” Sam remarks, and she does. Sam looks at her, unreadable expression on her face, then looks away, saying, “Why were you ignoring me?”
It’s so blunt that it catches Aelwyn off guard. She had come to explain herself, yes, but she wanted to gradually work up to it. “Um,” she replies, almost reflexively, suddenly at a loss for words.
“Did I - was it something I did? Because if I made you uncomfortable, or -“
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Aelwyn says quickly, cutting off Sam before she can continue spiraling into falsehood. “It was more that I was - uncomfortable with myself.”
Sam’s face twists in mock confusion, and she says, “You?” Aelwyn rolls her eyes, smile on her face.
“Unbelievable, I know,” she replies, before her face drops and she continues, “But, no. It - I mean, it was about you, but it wasn’t because of you, I -” she cuts herself off. Breathes, for a moment, grounding herself. It’s so unlike her, to get flustered, and she hates how it’s making her sound. “I like you.”
Silence. Surprise is written in Sam’s face, and Aelwyn can’t tell if it’s good or bad. Either way, she feels calmer, knowing that whatever happens next is out of her hands.
Sam opens her mouth, closes it, tilts her head. “Is this a bit?” she asks, voice uncertain, and Aelwyn’s stomach drops.
“Sam, I care about you, more than I ever thought I would. I don’t say this lightly: you’re my best friend. But. I wouldn’t mind if you were - something more.”
It’s horribly cliched, she knows, but it’s the truth, and it’s what she feels, and she hopes it’s enough. Sam smiles, eyes watery, as she leans in, and Aelwyn feels nothing but warmth as she closes the distance.
-
Towards the end of summer, the Bad Kids and the Maidens get together at the Strongtower Luxury Apartments’ pool to celebrate someone’s birthday. Aelwyn thinks it’s Danielle’s, but she’s unsure; either way, she finds herself sitting at the edge of the pool, sunglasses on and feet dangling in the water, watching her girlfriend.
The past few weeks, Aelwyn’s honestly been happier than she ever thought possible. It’s sort of hard to deal with, sometimes, when the doubt creeps in, telling her that she doesn’t deserve any of it, but it’s easier to ignore, now.
Aelwyn is a good sister, a good friend, a good girlfriend, and that’s the end of it.
Sam swims up to her, slotting herself between Aelwyn’s legs. “Hi,” Sam says, smile bright on her face. Aelwyn mirrors her expression.
“Having fun?” she asks, morphing her smile into a smirk, but Sam’s all earnesty as she nods.
“Very much so.”
“Good.”
Sam leans up for a kiss, quick so as to avoid heckling from their friends. Even still, someone (she thinks it’s Kristen, but she can’t quite be sure) calls “Oooooo!” and Aelwyn pulls away, groaning. Sam swims away, splashing at their hecklers, but not before winking at Aelwyn, and she blushes in response.
Surrounded by people she loves and who she knows love her, Aelwyn smiles.