Work Text:
Relief:
When Aelwyn’s father turned towards her, there was no fear. She was not filled with that burning sensation of terror to cower beneath his disappointed gaze. There was only righteous determination. For the first time in her life, Aelwyn was sure she understood what it felt like to be Adaine. So full of something that she felt ready to explode. As if she was overflowing with magic and might. It was utterly overwhelming. A cacophony of magic reverberated throughout her. Overwhelming her as she countered her father’s sadistic spell. At this moment, there was no thinking, only doing anything and everything to protect her baby sister. Her baby sister stood before her, wiser than anyone Aelwyn had ever known. She was so full of age and wisdom and power. It was hard to fathom how it all could be contained by a 16-year-old girl.
Aelwyn, who had always cast a shadow so large that the little girl would never know sunlight, watched as her sister’s shadow overcame all of them. She felt every nerve shiver with power and fire, and she knew this was how it was to explode from the inside out. There was a relief when her father raised his hand, and arcane power was commanded. Relief that she would not have to bear this power for a second more, even though her sister carried it upon her shoulders for so long. It was abundantly clear at this moment that Aelwyn was never going to be as strong.
The lightning hurtled through the darkness towards her. Crackling and jagged, ready to hit her. All fear escaped her as it rushed towards her. The life she lived did not flash before her eyes. It did not show her all the things that she would miss. It simply held the promise of ending. Dying was the easiest option. That was clear in her mind. If Aelwyn died here and now, then she would not have to risk seeing a world in which her parents were successful in their endeavor and turned their stark disappointment, cold glances, and cruel scolding to her. She would not have to live in a world where Adaine was reduced to a fraction of her possibility or snuffed out completely. The hollowed-out space in her heart wouldn’t ache with the knowledge that it would have been her fault. That she failed so entirely at being the one thing Adaine asked of her.
If she died, she would not have to risk existing in the future where Adiane and her little friends did manage to stop her parents. Where they had managed to overcome the uprising of the Nightmare King. Because no matter what Adiane said between their messages, Aelwyn couldn’t be changed. She had been hurtling down a direction for so long that abandoning all that she thought was right risked fracturing the walls that held her so rightly in place.
Death was so much easier to embrace than the reflection in the mirror. It was so much easier to accept than facing all the ways Aelwyn had failed and in all the ways she had been wrong. Abandoning Adaine to fight her own battles against an impossible monster was an old hat. She had left her sister to fight by herself so many times before. Death was so much easier to choose.
It did not hurt until she was heap upon the ground, struggling to breathe, praying for Galicaea or the devils of hell to take her away from this place as the clearing lit up. Her head, laid upon the ground, had fallen perfectly so she could see the cause of the light, her glassy eyes watching as her sister’s fury caused mist and lightning to crackle in the darkness. “I’m strong now, bitch” echoed the words as Adaine brought her fist to meet their father’s face, and the smallest of twitches set Aelwyn’s face into a smile.
You always have been.
The darkness was coming. The edges of Aelwyn’s vision were quickly fading as Adaine rushed towards her. She could see the magic being used. The strands of fate that Adaine controlled, the power of prophecy placed upon. Adaine had always carried her fate so well. Aelwyn didn’t want her to waste her time, to waste her power. “I don’t deserve you, and I don’t deserve this.”
And in her goodness, Adaine simply offered her a home to return to, spoke about deserving like she didn’t know all the things that Aelwyn had done. Darkness was coming faster now. The last words between sisters. Aelwyn desperately trying to remind Adaine of all the terrible things done by her hand: Killing the oracle so that fate would fall upon Adiane’s shoulders before she was old enough to bare it with grace. The ship had been full of people, dead by her magic. Another thing she would not have to face until she found herself before the hounds of hell, another failure she would not have to apologize for if Adaine didn’t let her die here.
That was when Kalina appeared. “Be a good girl and die a little quicker,” The Shadow Cat hissed from the darkness. Her heart was beating too fast. Aelwyn’s eyes fluttered, trying to stay here. Just for a little longer, just enough to remind her sister. She tried to tell her about the 5th curse, the last curse, the one that no one remembered. And then it was like she couldn’t breathe like her lungs just stopped as Kalina reminded her to hold her tongue until she died.
Then Adaine gave her something trickling down her throat. A sour tonic upon her tongue. She blinked Kalina away. Adaine gave her peace at that moment. So Aelwyn gave her everything else she had left to offer, a sword, information, and a piece of herself, a look at Adaine through her eyes, before the darkness finally took her.
Repent:
It wasn’t until Adaine died that Aelwyn tried to think about living. Not in those moments, of course. Not when she held the crumpled body of her baby sister, begging anyone who would listen to save her as their mother taunted from above. “Please save her, please.” Maybe it was because suddenly, the loss of having the only person believing in her redemption fading from the earth meant that any progress would be looked over and meaningless. She did not care what the others found in her soul. It was Adaine who had given her a second chance. Or maybe it was because she couldn’t stand to be in the world without the sun. She would gladly stand in the sister of her shadow every day for the rest of eternity as long as she came back to shine.
As Adaine blinked her eyes open from Kristen’s revivify. Aelwyn cried. There were many things she was not ready to face, but she would face them all for Adaine to continue to live. The hundreds of years promised to them. She would repent her sins. Repent for her crimes and mistakes. She would take them all. She would spend her life in any cage, any sphere, any amount of unending days of entrancing misery to make sure that Adaine lived free. She could not take the burden upon her sister’s shoulders (The ones that she had thrust upon her), so instead, she swore in those moments of heavy breaths that her punishment would be living and protecting her little sister from the world. She had been hurt enough by it.
Reparation:
The aftermath was chaotic. As Aelwyn returned to herself, it became clear that she did not have a choice as the chaos of the Nightmare King settled. Or at least there was no other reasonable choice but to return to Solace.
She was as promised by Arthur Augfort that her crimes would be forgiven, and she would be adequately scolded. She was given the option to turn away the country of her ancestors, of her birthright. The opportunity to cast off her history for a new acceptance in Solace. In return, she would never have to fear returning to the orb. She would not have to risk her mind fracturing once again. It was harder to choose once she was outside the confines of battle without her sister’s blood on her hands to make the right decision. Her choice to face her crimes seemed different in the light of day. Like her conviction had faded and could be forgotten and abandoned if she simply did not think about them. After all, she hadn’t told anyone of her decision to go home and try to be the sister Adaine asked for.
But after a moment of calculation, racing thoughts of being trapped and unable to trance all came rushing back. Her father was dead. Her mother was trapped, without magic, in the Nightmare King’s forest. She would be lost forever. The only real connection she had was to Adaine and in all of her heroics she had only asked one thing of Aelwyn: To be her big sister. She supposed she could go elsewhere and live up to that obligation, but logically that was not obtainable from a distance. So, for the time being, Aelwyn returned to Elmville.
Mordred Manner was unfathomably loud and chaotic. The constant bickering that existed in a house where no less than seven teenagers, one of whom was a ghost, and three parents lived with a variety and an unknown number of guests at any given time was not the most challenging part of settling back into Solace. It was not the noise and the chaos that tapped Aelwyn’s wards. In fact, it helped. Years of school and parties and getting lost in the chaos of spell casting had trained Aelwyn perfectly for the buzzing of life inside the home. It was much the opposite of where she grew up. There was a comfort to knowing that even though time was not moving in a way that made sense to Aelwyn, other people were still living regardless of her own feeling of being lost. There was comfort in the idea of falling into obscurity, a ghost to haunt the halls Mordred Manner, unseen. All these years of living underneath her parent’s cruel and judgmental eye, the idea of just existing brought the slightest bit of relief.
No. The hardest part of living in Mordred Manner was not the loud noise but the moments of silence that followed. Aelwyn understood it perfectly. Adaine was a member of the family. After all, Jawbone had adopted her. She had saved the world twice with every ward within the home, and she was Adaine, bright and furiously unstoppable, the candle in the darkness that every moth was attracted to - her request to house Aelwyn was never questioned. Not for Aelwyn to hear anyway. Adaine simply offered, and it was accepted by all. But just because a person accepted something does not mean the underlying thoughts were there. After all, Aelwyn knew what hiding behind a breaking ward felt like. So she understood the moment of silence and the stop in conversation as she entered the room. The awkward pause existed after she politely asked someone to pass the bread around the dinner table. She understood them, but even then, every second paused was a boom against her ward, a blow to trying to keep herself upright. It was judgment in every heartbeat moment.
While the habitats of Mordred Manner became better at concealing their awkwardness and unease around her - it didn’t make the interactions any more tolerable.
Aelwyn spent most of her time hidden as a result. She didn’t stay in the room very long. It was Adaine’s space, her wizard’s tower. She tranced there often, but that was really all she used it for. She had explored finding a proper place away from the accidental change of subjects and uncomfortable interactions. But she also craved somewhere she could be easily reached should Adaine need her. She had found a hidden tiny room, no larger than a closet in the corner down two secret passageways. Perhaps it hadn’t been discovered by the owners, or perhaps it had but had been considered unsuitable. Either way, that is where she found the most comfort.
After a few days, there had been no discussion of how Aelwyn was expected to contribute to the household. So, she started a tab. It started because she wanted to make sure that her debt was paid. The money tied into her parent’s account would not be accessible to her and Adaine until six months after her mother remained lost. And then it would be split amongst the two of them, Aelwyn already having spoken to the solicitor to make sure that the majority of it would go to Adaine. Anything hers would be paid back into the manor and Sandralynn’s and Jawbone’s pockets. For their continual housing. Jawbone had decided to adopt Adaine, but she wanted to make sure he knew that the financial burden of her education, future needs, and healthcare wasn’t his sole responsibility.
But that didn’t contribute towards her reparations now. Aelwyn started to do the grocery shopping. It wasn’t like she had school or a job yet. It had been suggested to her by Jawbone, Arthur Augfort, and Adaine that she take a few months to be re-acquainted with Solace, even though due to her torture, she didn’t really remember the months she had spent away. A few months before, she took upon the weight of engaging in activities expected of her, like advanced schooling or finding a job. So all she had to do was study, wait and think about the dreadful things she had done. That was how she figured out she could help. She was a dreadful cook, and while she used her spells to keep things tidy and clean, it didn’t ever feel complete. While the tidiness met the standards of those in the home, she always could pinpoint where there was imperfection. She knew herself well enough to know that she would start to resent those who made her task imperfect. Grocery shopping was something that she could do and be perfect at it.
She started by taking stock of what was in the cupboard. What snacks were eaten, what drinks were necessary. She took meticulous consideration of what the people in the house and the never-ending trail of guests ate. She would listen to Lydia and Jawbone plan dinners. She would make sure to look up the recipes they used for all their meals and calculate what they would need. Then every Tuesday and Friday at 11:15, she would grab the bag of holding that had been gifted to her by her mother, and she would go to the market. She put the money on the credit card tied to her name and figured that once the tab had been paid and Adaine was taken care of, she would pay it off.
She never told anyone she was doing this, she never asked for what was needed, and if anyone had known, they simply didn’t mention it. Which she was grateful for. She simply couldn’t handle having a conversation about paying what she owed with any of them, not when she was still so reliant on their kindness and generosity.
Relapse:
A few months after she returned to Solace, the occupants of Mordred Manner fell into a comfortable routine. But, Aelwyn could feel her wards damaged. Things were not becoming easier. The tiny little things that used to not bother her sounded like nails on a chalkboard. She felt herself snapping at Adaine more. Who took it all in stride, of course, and rarely rose to the bait. Their quips never really fell to blows and spells as they did before. Which made Aelwyn feel so much worse because she wanted it to. So she kept pushing. And once or twice, Aelwyn would send a too sharp barb on too fresh of a wound, and she would be met with silence and a stair. The torturous silence and blank stare from Adaine hurt more than anything else, especially as she walked away, abandoning Aelwyn with all of these feelings and nowhere else to turn them but inward. On the nights that followed arguments like this, even if they had made up, she wouldn’t trance. Instead, she would just allow the haunted memories of heavy silence to play over and over again in her mind.
This wasn’t a new experience. The short string, jumpy and itchy skin feeling of being trapped was very familiar. So along with grocery shopping, something else was added to her routine to separate the studying, silences, and shifting relationship between her and Adaine. Aelwyn was very good at sneaking out. Even before all of this, she managed to escape her parents’ house once or twice a week, and Mordred Manner had at least two passages that led out of the house that wouldn’t bring her by an adult, and as far as she was aware, no one had yet to discover.
High school parties were a memory of the past, but among her belongings, she had found the old fake ID made from her by a desperate Hudol boy, an item of a life so long ago that it seemed separate from her. It was good enough fake to get in through the doors of the Black Pit. She could live a different life in the darkness of the club where the music was so loud there was no such thing as silence. It didn’t matter what happened underneath the guise of alcohol and drugs. No one cared about Aelwyn Abernant there. She didn’t have to care about Aelwyn Abernant. There was no one to disappoint, no one to stop talking when she entered a room, no one to look at her and see all the damage she had caused. The constant clatter against her wards took a hiatus as she lost herself in the dancing and drugs.
And oh Galicaea, there were so many drugs.
No one cared if she took another shot. No one cared if she went out the back alley with a baggie of dragon spice. No one cared if a man twice her age with a wedding band pulled her into the bathroom, and she lost herself for a little while. No one cared, not even her. At least, not until the morning when she looked at herself with bloodshot eyes in the bathroom mirror and had to face the silence between her and Adaine where she knew she was disappointing her - even if Adaine had no clue.
But even with the heavy guilt, this way of coping worked. Her temper during the days evened out. The conversation paused as she entered the dining room at breakfast time, barely phased her on Sunday mornings. She felt not like a ghost existing in the bones of the house but rather a ghoul, slightly more solidified as she walked through the halls. Familiarity and comfort where a rarity after life takes such a spin. It didn’t matter if she was only kept together by repayment and a bi-weekly excuse to forget who she was. It meant that she wasn’t disappointing Adaine. Or at least, she was doing the best she could.
Reveal:
That was until she was found. Then it all came tumbling down. She was at the Black Pit on a Saturday night, mid-July, three drinks and a line of dragon spice in. Just the right combination where the world felt lighter, like the constant bubble of uncomfortable failure wasn’t consciously around her. In these moments, Aelweyn felt beautiful. She felt powerful. She felt the shadow of who she once washed over her, and that relief made it feel like the world wasn’t ending.
She was flirting with a man, or more like the man was flirting with her. She liked to play these games to see how many drinks she could get someone to buy her before getting annoyed. How long did they let her toy with them before they broke and revealed themselves to be just as wicked and vile as she was? This man was getting closer. His tone was the indication, shorter and crisper than the gentleman facade before. His hands were getting a little more Friendly. She didn’t mind. She laughed at something truly unfunny that he said as she looked around the bar. It was a habit that had come with almost dying, looking for danger everywhere. Around drink five, she could stop looking. She could care less if there was something or someone in the shadows. She wasn’t there yet, but she could be soon.
That was when she met eyes with the woman across the bar from her. The piercing gaze caused her to freeze as if she was stunned. Sandralynn regarded her curiously, her eyes going to the man whose hand was sliding down her backside. The sharp eyes of the surrogate mother had caught her dead. Everything went silent at that moment, like time itself froze. Without even having to look, she recognized the man next to the woman as Jawbone, who seemingly had not noticed her yet. He talked to another person with the expression he often wore when helping others with their emotional troubles. At that moment, she realized she was fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. At that moment, she knew she had ruined any chance of living with Adaine, of being the big sister she asked for. She felt anger crush her, the itch and twitch of wanting to escape. She felt a hand move on her arm, squeezing her and demanding her attention returned. She saw Sandralynn’s eyes darken with recognition. Either way, Aelwyn would have to deal with the disappointment and consequences of sneaking out, of dressing completely inappropriately either way. So putting the nail in her own coffin, she let herself be pulled from the bar, quickly shooting down the last of her drink and losing herself in the alley with a man whose name she would not remember.
Aelwyn expected the fallout to happen the next morning, already somewhat surprised that the ranger had not pulled her away from the bar that night. The kitchen was just as loud and chaotic as it had always been. She was able to slip in unnoticed by anyone but Adaine, who paused in her talking to look at her and smile as she sat beside her only to continue discussing something with the goblin, Riz. Adaine’s pause at that moment turned her stomach over. Had Sandralynn already said something? How would she react when she found out? What would she do when Aelwyn was told to get out? Would she finally accept that her sister was beyond saving? Sandralynn came down soon after, Fig saying something about her mother looking tired with a knowing smile. The mother sent a look to her daughter with a raised eyebrow, and all she said in response was - “Good Morning, Ayda, you’re here early for a Sunday.”
The half phoenix opened her mouth to speak before Fig interjected, “Yeah! You know what they say in showbiz. Nothing beats an early start.” Aelwyn saw the wizard cast a small and subtle skill underneath the table. She looked curiously at the spell components. The movements, subtle yet strong, made her think of Adaine, who was smiling like she was amused and had a secret. It was evident that the half-phoenix had spent the night in Fig’s room, which was strictly against house rules, even though it was never followed by Kristen or Fig.
Aelwyn waited patiently for Sandralynn to turn around, place a barbed tongue comment to Fig, and then turn her attention to Aelwyn. Public humiliation wasn’t something her father and mother ever used; however, humiliation was something they commonly pointed out about Adaine. Surely, she deserved the same attention now that she was the disappointment. But instead, Sandralynn turned around and lifted an eyebrow, clearly not believing her daughter’s words, “Right,” she snorted with an amused tone.
Fig quickly changed the subject. “I can’t believe you didn’t let us go with you last night! Was the ban sick!” Aelwyn stiffened. She barely remembered the music, bleary and loud, slipped into the background of her terrible decisions. She moved slowly to grab a piece of toast as not to catch the ranger’s eye. Fig continued to complain that they hadn’t been allowed to go and Aelwyn was grateful they hadn’t. Being found out by Sandralyn was terrible. Being caught by Adaine’s little friends - that was worse.
From her left side, Adaine’s voice claimed her attention. “Did you have a goodnight, Aelwyn?” She wanted to curse her sister for saying her name for bringing attention to her. But, instead of answering, she lifted a knife to cover the toast in grape jelly. Again, that itchy, uncomfortable feeling washed over her. She felt like she was once again in the nightmare forest, waiting for anything to happen, waiting for lightning to strike her.
She could feel Sandralynn’s eyes on her but did not say anything, and that gave Aelwyn time as the silence in the kitchen fell, and the attention turned to her as she cleared her throat. “It was fine,” She said. That answer seemed sufficient to encourage the others to start talking once again.
Redemption:
After breakfast and no apparent conversation with Sandralynn on the horizon, Aelwyn felt the itch of nervousness wash over her once more. She wondered if she was simply already trapped in the confines, but like a frog that did not know it was being boiled, she had no idea. What was the woman waiting for if not to humiliate and scold her in front of Adaine and the other children? Aelwyn knew she had broken the rules. Even if they had not been explicitly stated, every situation had a set of unspoken rules. Aelwyn had been extraordinary at finding out what they were at any given moment. Because if she knew the rules, she could follow them and bend them to her will. But now, waiting for a trap to be sprung, she felt the confines of her failures to follow expectations. Aelwyn had lived watching her baby sister walk on eggshells throughout their childhood. She was unsure how Adaine had done it. How had she lived a life so full of uncertainty that any moment the delicate balance could shatter.
Aelwyn had retreated to one of the hidden rooms that had become her own, a large closet with a pillow and several books hidden about halfway down a secret passageway only accessible from Adaine’s tower and the greenhouse. She sat staring at a book, planning her next steps. The money still had not come in, but she could certainly find somewhere to rent should Sandralynn tell her to go. Jawbone had officially adopted Adaine, so there was no guarantee that she would be able to see her unless Adaine wanted to continue building this relationship even if she had failed. She was thinking so hard, staring at the book, pretending to read that she hadn’t heard any footsteps headed her way.
The dark and scratchy voice appeared out of nowhere, “Hey, Kiddo,” regardless of its jovial and kind tone, Aelwyn jumped into action. Her wards were thrown up suddenly, impossibly strong as if preparing for battle once more. She sprung to her feet, ready to fight, her eyes wide, chest heaving as her eyes fell upon the werewolf. It took a few breaths for her brain to catch up, and when it did, she looked at her hands in horror. The spell had just gone off. She didn’t even be aware that she had cast the globe of impenetrability. Her breath stopped in her lungs. Her body was completely frozen. She wasn’t prepared for anyone to be here. She thought surely she would have heard him coming. She looked at the man with horror, and he looked back at her, a guilty expression on his face, “Hey….” He said in a deep comforting voice, but it did nothing to Aelwyn. She still was unable to move. She felt utterly dazed. “It’s alright.”
She blinked back to the present moment away from the memory as she dropped the orb as her breathing tried to return. “Oh, I’m… so…” She was embarrassed, trying to keep it together. Trying desperately not to crack underneath the surprise.
“It’s alright,” he said before she could even think of an excuse. “I should know better than to spook a wizard when they are reading.” He tried to make it sound casual. “Especially after everything you’ve been through.” That made Aelwyn want to scoff. She hadn’t been through much compared to the others. She ought to know better than to be scared at a simple greeting. What was he going to do anyway? She already had a half-formed plan when she had to leave, and it wasn’t like he would hurt her. But she didn’t say anything, simply crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to tell her she needed to pack her bags. “Can we chat?”
Aelwyn looked at him and then nodded, and to her surprise, Jawbone sat down right in the middle of the hallway. Feeling odd being the only one standing, Aelwyn returned to her reading cubby, eyes studying the fur-covered man, wary about what he was about to say. So much was different from her parents. “I heard you were at the Black Pit the other night,” he said softly, not accusing her, not even a hint of disappointment. Aelwyn did not react. She just squeezed her arms tighter and prepared for the verbal attack that was about to rain down upon her.
“Now, I’m not trying to be a hypocrite. There were lots of nights in my youth where I snuck into bars, and it resulted in some pretty wild times, but… I guess that scares me a little because I think back to how unsafe I was being back then.” Aelwyn blinked, confused at the turn his scolding took. It didn’t sound like he was scolding her at all. His voice wasn’t rough with disappointment. It was gentle and open and even had a hint of a smile, “And I just wanted to check-in. I know you are an adult, and you get to make your own choices, but there are still a few rules in this house that we expect everyone to follow.” Aelwyn, for a moment, let herself believe that maybe she was going to be given another chance. Instead of relief, it made her insides squirm. She’s messed up enough times. They ought to know better. “And that rule is safety.”
Aelwyn blinked because, in all her experience with adults, not one of them had ever asked her to consider her safety. Her parents trusted her to make the correct decisions, the right ones that would cause the least amount of embarrassment, but at the same time, they never really talked about what that looked like for her. Goldenhoard had asked her to put herself in the line of fire to help him rise to power. She had spent all these years making the correct decision without ever wondering if any of them were safe. No one had cared about that part, so why should she? “It’s not safe for a young girl like you to go to a bar and not tell anyone where you are at. I know Elmville is a safe town, but even the best of towns has its bad people.” Jawbone continued, unaware of the horror happening inside Aelwyn’s head. “Now I know you are a powerful wizard and could handle yourself in a fight, but you still never know, and I would hate for something to happen to you, and none of us know where you were.” His words struck a chord in her. She remembered how many times she had to lie to her parents, to Adaine just to feel a moment of freedom. How many times she had pushed the point of danger just to feel like she could. A trapped bird with clipped wings yearning to know how it felt to fly. It occurred to her that she had been throwing herself off a cliff all these years and called it soaring.
She had expected a different kind of prison when she returned back to Solace, had accepted her cage, but here Jawbone was leaving the door open and unlocked. She wondered if it was a trap. Jawbone continued, “If you do go out, can you let one of us know you are leaving. We just want to know where you are.”
She figured the best way to look for a trap was to set it off with the expectation of it hurting. “I go out several times a week.” She said, watching his face, gauging his reaction.
He just smiled a toothy grin. “Right on, just shoot one of us a text. And don’t get in a car if someone is driving it intoxicated.” Aelwyn wanted to scoff at the insinuation, but then she remembered a time before Johnny Spells had died when she had taken his car for a joy ride, several drinks in. The fight left her immediately. “Aelwyn, this isn’t about trying to track you down or get you to stop. You’re young. Experimenting is just fine. This is about how this family can run successfully, and part of that is trusting each other. Part of the trust is checking in, so the people here don’t have to worry about you. I know Sandralynn has some… well after the Nightmare King’s Forest, she likes to know where everyone is, and it would be very helpful if you could just let us know when you go out and maybe even who you are with.”
Still testing the open door of freedom for traps, she let a sharp tongue comment leave her lips. “I don’t know their names.”
Jawbone’s eyebrows twitched a little, but other than that, no reaction. “That actually leads into my second point. I gotta ask. Did your parents ever talk to you about safe sex?” Jawbone asked, and Aelwyn felt her walls go up higher, hiding the shame that no - no one had ever told her. She had to figure it out on her own.
“Yes, of course.” She lied, bringing her arms around herself. “I do not need the sex talk. And on that note, I don’t need a father; I had one.” And it was the first time she really thought about it. At first, she really accepted that her father was dead. “But Adaine hasn’t, not really. So you should focus your efforts on her.” She deserved the care far more than Aelwyn did.
“I’m not trying to be your dad. But you are a part of this house and a part of this family. For however long as you want to be.” Aelwyn was grasping her arms so tight she was sure they would bruise. This wasn’t her family. Adaine was her family, the rest of them simply excited in her peripheral, and she was trying to leave this situation being as little a nuisance as possible. “You’ve had a hard life Aelwyn,”
The words hurt to hear because they weren’t true. Aelwyn’s life had been a dream compared to Adaine’s. “I hardly remember the worst of it,” she said softly, the words missing the malice and bite they usually held. “I deserved what happened after everything I did.”
Aelwyn expected him to agree, expected him to understand. However, he seemed taken aback and in search of the right words. Carefully after a few moments, he said, “I’m glad that you don’t remember what happened to you, but Aelwyn, it still happened. You might have managed to protect your consciousness and memories from everything that was done, but you’re still her, and if you ever need to talk about the things you do and don’t remember, there are people here who want to listen.” Jawbone looked like he wanted to physically comfort Aelwyn and say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave her one last smile before saying, “Also, you should start going to the Black Pit on Wednesdays. Ladies drink for half off.” And then he stood up and walked away.
Instead of correcting him or informing him that she rarely bought her own drink, she thought for a moment… maybe she ought to. It might feel good to buy her own drink and not owe anyone else a damn thing.
Repair:
Aelwyn’s mind was broken but not beyond repair. It might take her years of examining the walls she had built. Years of examining the decisions she had made.
There were times she didn’t believe she could repair it, where she thought that any progress forward was quickly erased by steps backward. One day she spat at Adaine something unkind. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, and with her going out less, trying to destroy herself less, it happened more often. “Oh yes, Adaine, because you’ve always been so good at everything, shall we go talk to Hudal’s applications office and correct them.” After she spat the words out, Adaine, with clenched teeth and fists, turned away to leave her with the silence. It wasn’t that vicious in terms of sparring words, and the already open wounds they had landed on were not even the most painful. Like all the other times, Aelwyn knew she didn’t mean them, that the words just tumbled out of her mouth on reflex. An abjuration of the most basic kind to tell Adaine, I’m scared you’ll say something that will hurt. Typically, Aelwyn would just let the words stick, but this time was different. She was trying to be different. “I’m sorry,” Aelwyn spoke into the silence between them, even before Adaine had left the room. Aelwyn had been raised to apologize for nothing in this world, and Adaine had been raised to take on enough apologies for the both of them. “I didn’t mean that.” She said honestly, her voice louder and more sure than she expected. She felt her insides squirm, trying to find a way to repair the wall that was letting Adaine see inside. But she didn’t take it back.
She had to look away in fear that seeing Adaine see her like this would only make the feeling of exposure worse. “I know,” Adaine whispered after a moment, and there was a breath of relief that Aelwyn felt when she didn’t leave. The silence seemed to lighten. “I know you are having a hard time, I mean - we all are. I wish you would let me in.” Adaine sounded like Alewyn felt, a devastated wasteland, hopelessly lost. “Let me see so I can help. You don’t have to push me away anymore.”
Aelwyn let out a sound that may have once been a cruel laugh, but now it held none of the power or cruelty. The very idea was impossible. “It’s a mess in Adaine. You don’t want to be inside my head.”
Adaine moved closer to her. And Aelwyn let her eyes fall over her sister. She was growing up so fast. She couldn’t help but, at times, still see her as the six-year-old little girl who used to climb into her room when she had a nightmare. Especially when they were both recovering from something as horrible as what they had survived. Aelwyn didn’t need to know that Adaine was thinking about that time in the hot springs when she could see the rec that her mind was after being trapped in that tower. The few flashes she had seen from Adaine’s memory were enough to horrify her. Then, suddenly, there was a frog in her arms. Adaine set her familiar down with his large eyes and rotund shape. There was a calmness that came with him. Aelwyn held him closely. “I think you forget that I’ve seen you are your worst. I helped you.”
Aelwyn let out a shaky breath, trying desperately to keep calm. “Oh, Adaine, It’s so much worse now.” She said softly, not looking at her sister but instead the frog who looked up at her wide eyes ever patient. “I know what you saw after the tower, how terrifying it must have been, but my mind was in ruins then.” She wasn’t sure if any of this was going to make sense. After all, Adaine was raised with the awareness that she was imperfect. Aelwyn was never granted that opportunity to fail, to be less then. “The memories of my foundation had been long destroyed. There wasn’t a possibility of repair. I was beyond broken, I barely even existed, I wasn’t anything that made me who I am, I was a cracked shell of an almost memory of a girl.” She looked up to Adaine. “I was tolerable because I wasn’t me.” Adaine looked like she wanted to speak, and it was most likely unfair that Aelwyn didn’t let her, but she knew if she stopped now, she wouldn’t ever get this out. “And I know that to anyone else, that would seem like the worst thing in the world, but it wasn’t.” She felt the words get stuck in her throat.
The haze of watching Adaine’s memory of walking through her mind. Realizing what had happened to her. What Jawbone had said was true. “I know I don’t really remember before it all came back, but I was her, the girl who wasn’t me. I was that broken thing that made up the ruins of my mind. And a part of me wishes I still was that.” She heard the uptick in her voice, the surprise as she made the realization for herself and Adaine. “I find myself yearning to live in a life where I was so easily destroyed or that you hadn’t been as clever as you are. That you hadn’t figured out how to unravel me.” She looked at her sister, who was standing so still. It reminded her of how she used to watch a fairy when she was a child. In the forest, as the fairy flew around from flower to flower Adaine would stand so still, not even breathing in fear of scaring the thing away. It occurred to Aelwyn that she was scared of her flying away.
She took a deep breath and stepped closer to her sister. “Being destroyed, being the rubble of myself means that I would never know what it was like to have to repair.” She sniffed and took an uneasy breath. “But you were clever, and I am not easily broken.” She felt her eyes burn as the truth echoed both through her and Jawbone’s words. “I am here. And now I have to face the reality of what I am built of, what I have constructed. But it’s terrible, Adaine. I’m terrible. I am a cowardly broken thing who lashes out anyway I can and I only know how to breathe when I am pretending to be something other than the truth.”
Adaine looked at her, she was shaking, and Aelwyn felt herself start to close up under the examination, suddenly worried she had pushed to far. Adaine deserved a sister who could be easily fixed. Not one that talked about how hard it was. Adaine jumped forward suddenly. “Don’t” She didn’t know what on her face had given her away, but Adaine was begging her not to shut down. “Why do you go grocery shopping for the house?”
That was a question she was not expecting. She let out a breath that could have been a laugh and a bewildered look. “Uh, what does that have to do with anything?”
“Answer the question,” Adaine demanded but still did not back down, looking for something in Aelwyn’s eyes. Aelwyn didn’t know what the correct answer was. This had nothing to do with what that had been talking about, and while there was relief in that, she didn’t have a single clue why Adaine was asking.
“I… I’m supposed to.” She said simply.
“No one asked you to,” Adaine argued back. “You’ve been doing it for months.”
“How do you know I’ve been doing it?” Aelwyn accused her.
“There’s always a peanut bar in the cupboard. I like peanut bars.”
A peanut butter bar, Adaine had always been partial, and while Aelwyn stayed rather healthy with her shopping, she liked the idea of Adaine getting something special. “That doesn’t mean I was doing it. Any of your friends could know that you are obsessed with peanut bars.”
“Jawbone didn’t know, Sandralynn didn’t know, and Lyda barely knew me, so I knew it wasn’t any of them, and it wasn’t Fig or Kristen. Would you please answer my question?”
Aelwyn was shocked and scoffed at her answer, trying to find one of her own. And when she didn’t find one fast enough, she repeated the only truth she could think of, “I’m supposed to.”
“No one asked you to.” Adaine argued again, “None of the adults even knew what was happening for weeks. So you weren’t supposed to.”
“It’s only polite, Adaine. After all, they’ve taken me in and let me sleep here, fed me and you. They don’t make much money and they all work jobs. We were raised with manners!” She could feel herself getting upset, the same way their spats always ended with them getting more and more upset with each other.
“No one asked you to do it. You didn’t have to do it. Besides, Jawbone’s been giving me money twice a week to pay you back, but you never talked about doing it. So your not saving them any money. You didn’t have to do this.”
“So what! There was nothing else I could have done to help, not without your friends thinking I was trying to poison them. It is a lot trying to run this household with all of you running off all the time. Besides, after everything - no one else needs another thing to worry about.”
“A terrible person wouldn’t feel the need to help,” Adaine said as if she had made a clever point. “A terrible person would just walk around feeling sorry for themselves. Thinking only about themselves. You’re helping. You’re a part of this house, this family.”
Aelwyn looked at Adaine, a little stunned at what she was saying. “You aren’t terrible. You aren’t cowardly. Sometimes, we aren’t good at things right away. For me, it’s entrance exams. For you, it’s changing. Sometimes, things take time. It doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means your learning,” Aelwyn looked down at Boggy, who looked up at her, and the creature could think. She was pretty sure it was trying to communicate she was right. “Wanting to be broken after everything is normal, I think. But I think, choosing to stay and to not be perfect is really really brave.” Adaine moved in for a hug. It was awkward because Boggy was in Aelwyn’s hands, so she couldn’t hug her back. But she wondered if that was part of the point. An imperfect hug, an imperfect moment. Adaine looked at her and smiled. “Tomorrow, when you go shopping, can you get two peanut bars? Fig keeps trying to eat mine.”
And suddenly, Aelwyn felt something shift ever so slightly as something inside herself started to repair.