Amaia and Kasienka - Grief and Consolation
A Collab with @Seba
Having finished her conversation with Tahlia, Kasienka was left outside and in her own mind. She fiddled with a sleeve of her tunic before turning to look back up at the mansion. She felt like she was forgetting something, something important. She had apologized to James, which had been on her mind for most of their short journey, and she had tried to comfort the woman who watched her husband die. Death was a funny thing. It was supposed to be so permanent, yet she had seen it denied by two members of her party.
It clicked with her when she began to think through all the death she had seen in her nightmare, and the talk of it afterwards. She wasn't sure who this Giselle person was to Amaia, but she would never forget the look on Amaia's face when she was told the horrible news.
The elf raced back into the mansion and towards what she hoped was Amaia's room. After a quick sprint and hopefully a dose of luck, she knocked on a door.
"Amaia? Are you in there? It's Kasienka."
Amaia laid on her side, loosely curled up in the fetal position and staring at the wall. She'd passed through the wracking sobs of raw grief into something that was a mix of sadness and exhaustion. Instead of being a sobbing mess, tears leaked out slowly but steadily, long past the point that she'd thought she would dry up and have no more tears to shed. As much as Amaia wanted to just sleep and get away from her thoughts for just a little while, she could not. Whenever she closed her eyes she saw Giselle again, glaring at her and calling her a monster and killing herself, over and over and over again. It drove her eyes open to flee from the mental image, back into the arms of the mental self-flagellation that came with open eyes. She was a monster, she didn't deserve love, she only hated and only deserved hate in return, the world would be better off without someone like her in it. Those painful thoughts were infinitely better than seeing them come from Giselle again.
The knock on the door startled her from self-loathing for just a moment. And the voice.. Kasienka. One of the people Amaia hated just for being different. Just for being an elf. Kasienka was a better person than her, though. She actually cared and helped people, no matter what shape or color those people came in; Amaia went through life like a rampaging beast through a village, not a care for anyone she left wounded in her wake. Not a care for anyone left dead in her wake. That thought drew a heavy sigh and a few more tears from her. She didn't think she could bear to let anyone see her right now, in this state. It was not a matter of vanity, even though Amaia knew she must look a mess, she just didn't know if she could bear the shame of seeing the inevitable contempt that they all must feel when looking at her. But having someone else to talk to would perhaps help get her mind off of her troubles, and... and did she really deserve a reprieve from them?
"Go away." Her voice was weak, lacking conviction. To Amaia's ear they sounded more a plea than a command. She sighed and laid there, not sure if she hoped her words were obeyed or ignored.
Kasienka was usually one to respect one's wishes for privacy... but she wasn't sure if that was what Amaia truly desired at the moment. She slowly opened the door and entered slowly, giving Amaia a chance to yell and scream and throw things if she truly wanted Kasienka done.
If not... she closed the door slowly behind herself and began to approach the woman. She was slow, not wanting to upset her further. The elf approached the bed and then knelt beside it, her voice soft in an attempt not to startle Amaia,
"Amaia, what can I do to help? Is there anything you want right now?"
The sound of the door opening made Amaia wish she'd been laying under the covers of the bed rather than atop them, so that she could have pulled them up to cover herself and hide from the elf's sight. Shame and fear rose like bile in her throat as Kasienka approached. She was turned away with her back to the door, but there was no doubt that at least the side of her tear-stained face was visible to the tall woman. She was relieved when Kasienka knelt and left her peripheral view, but then those soft words of concern cut through her like a knife to her spiteful heart. Why would this woman, this elf, show kindness and compassion to someone like Amaia? Gloating or mockery would have been more appropriate in her mind.
She shrank away from Kasienka, hunching her shoulders and trying futilely to swallow the lump in her throat.
"Y- no, I..." Amaia's voice was thick with emotion, sadness and fear and more than a hint of self-loathing as she spoke again.
"I don't deserve any help."
Kasienka sighed softly before getting up and retrieving a decorative quilt off the back of a chair. She draped it across Amaia then knelt beside the bed again.
"No one is beyond help. Everyone deserves help when they are hurting like this. I can't watch someone I care for hurt like this."
The words "it's not your fault" were on the tip of her tongue, but she knew better than to say something like that. Giselle was not in a better place, she had no way of knowing if it had been a painless death. The cliches would only serve to hurt Amaia further, so she waited to see if Amaia would open up at all.
"No, I-" Amaia cut herself off as that last bit of what Kasienka said sunk in. She wiped a hand across her face, clearing away most of the tears still there though her eyes remained watery, and turned over onto her back to be able to look at the elf. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her brows were drawn down .
"Someone you care for? Why would you care about me? I've done... I'm a horrible person." That self-loathing was still in her voice, though now mixed with confusion.
Kasienka shook her head as Amaia talked about herself, giving the woman a small smile. She pulled the sleeve of her tunic over bottom half of her hand to start wiping Amaia's tears away gently, then stroking the woman's hair back into place.
"You're not a horrible person. You defend Princess Kouri, you are kind to Mikan, you allow my company, and the company of the rest of the party. You are no angel, but you are not a horrible person. You are as... Human as the rest of us, even if some of us look far from what you expect.
"If you wanted me to see you as a horrible person, you would have already attempted to kill some of us in our sleep. Given that we are all still alive, I would say you're doing quite well, young lady. Life is too hard to be kind to everyone we meet. I was terrible to James when I first met him, and I was unkind to you after discussing what path to take in the war room. No one is perfect." She stopped to take a breath, then started trying to gently untangle Amaia's hair, assuming her salty tears had clumped locks together.
"Everyone has done things in their past they are not proud of, things which still hurt them in their current lives. All we can do is reflect upon them and decide what we will do differently today. I have had over a thousand years of doing this. It's ugly; it's unpleasant, but we survive. You will survive, Amaia, no matter how much it hurts right now."
As much as Amaia wanted to protest and argue that she was in fact terrible, Kasienka's soothing voice kept her quiet and listening, and the hands stroking her hair seemed to hold her self-hatred at bay. It was a decidedly strange feeling. She hadn't had anyone talk to her like this, comforting and softly chiding at the some time, since her mother died. It made her feel like a child, weak and naive, but not in a patronizing way. As Kasienka spoke, she realized what she'd been getting wrong damn near her entire life. The elven woman was obviously good, someone who helped and cared for even those she disliked, but even she had failings and could do bad things. Amaia had always thought of people as being one or the other, like badness was a rot that made the whole thing bad, but she had ignored the rot on her own soul in order to look down on others while feeling good about herself. Being brought literally face to face with that part of herself had come as a shock, and of course she'd come to the conclusion that she was horrible as well, but Kasienka was presenting another way to think about things. Amaia wanted to grab it like a drowning man reaching for a line to safety, but one thing held her back, her greatest failure like an anchor tied to her feet that was pulling her inexorably down.
She turned onto her other side, now fully facing Kasienka and letting her do as she wished with the mess that was Amaia's hair. That was another oddly soothing thing that made her remember her childhood before the sickness took her parents, for her mother had also teased the snarls from her hair after she'd made a mess of herself. Amaia laid there and watched Kasienka in silence for a little while, mulling over what had been said and what she felt needed to be said. She was startled to realize that she was no longer weeping, that her eyes remained sore and watery but no tears had been shed since the elven woman had pulled her out of her insular sadness.
"I don't know if just surviving is a good thing." Amaia took a deep breath and let it out quickly, forcing herself to go on, to explain what she had done that seemed to her to be beyond forgiveness.
"You must have seen me and heard what I asked, like I saw and heard you. Giselle-" Her voice wavered, but she cleared her throat and pushed on.
"Giselle was a necromancer. I was supposed to go kill her, my second solo job as a witch hunter. I couldn't though, she was so beautiful, and she wasn't hurting anyone, or not anyone living at least, just trying to find a way to bring her family back from the grave as real people instead of servants. I talked to her, and she was so sweet, not an evil witch at all, and she was as interested in me as I was in her. I.. stayed with her for a few weeks. She taught me a little bit of magic. I was happy, and I didn't even think about the fact that I'd been sent to kill her. I've been with many people, but this was different. I think I grew to love her."
Amaia was quiet for a couple seconds after that, savoring the memory before it turned to ashes.
"Izar, my teacher and mentor in the witch hunters, came to find me. She saw us together and yelled at me to stand aside, said Giselle must have done something to my mind. I didn't believe it, and I still don't, so... I fought her. I told Giselle to run away, and she did. Izar must have brought others with her, but I never saw them. I kept her busy for a few minutes before I ran away too. I'd always thought Giselle had gotten away safe, out of Liveria and away from the grasp of the witch hunters, but.. I didn't go looking for her then. I was too afraid of being known as a witch lover, so I just kept running. I looked for her later, but I couldn't find anything, so I thought she'd just gone far away. Izar, or other witch hunters, I don't know, some of them must have followed Giselle and killed her when they caught her." Amaia sighed and her voice grew quiet, weary.
"I never told her I was a witch hunter. Never warned her that she'd been found out. We could have gotten away and never been found by them if I'd told her instead of just pretending everything would be fine because I loved her. I didn't even try to find her until after she was probably already dead. I don't think I can live with that. I don't know if it want to live with that."
Kasienka silently listened to Amaia's story, her fingers still moving through the woman's hair. It wasn't such a mess that it took the whole story to finish, so she began to braid bits and parts to make a half crown out of the locks. When Amaia had finished, and her voice faded away, Kasienka reached down to hold Amaia's hand instead of work on her hair.
"You were young. You were hardly on your own. You tasted a love that I have striven to never forget, although at times I worry it fades from my mind.
"Love is a powerful drug. It can make us delusional, paranoid, terrified, hazy, and drunk. Giselle may be gone, but it was not your fault. You did what you knew to do at the time. You cannot look back on it now and blame yourself. You have lived longer, learned more. Had this happened today, you're right, you could have done something differently." Again she paused, and took her hand off of Amaia's and began to twist the ring on her middle finger. She considered not telling Amaia at all, but did not think her to be a gossip, and so she continued.
"Had I become a mother today instead of so long ago, I may have been able to help my child more than I did. I could have had both of my twins, instead of just one," her voice sank into nothing more than a whisper,
"and twins should never be separated like that." For a third time she was silent, but put a smile on her face, squeezed Amaia's hand, and sighed before speaking again.
"We all have our regrets, things we wish we could change for our loved ones, things we think we can never outlive. Here I am. I do not remember my children much, only that one reached paradis (heaven) and another ought to still be with their people. I have forgotten their names. I did not write then. How terrible is it for a mother to forget her children's names? For a long time I was angry with myself, ashamed, but now I see it as a blessing. If I was to remember their names, I would remember more of the pain. Instead I have sketches of their faces, before they were torn apart."
She took out the oldest, most ragged journal out of her bag, and flipped to the first page. There was an ink sketch of two small faces, and what appeared to be a smudged date in the bottom corner. Kasienka took a deep breath to steady herself then put the book away.
"You are no better or worse than me, Kouri, or Tahlia. You are simply different. We live through our differences."
Amaia felt a smothering weight lifted from her as Kasienka said it was not her fault. The words rang true. She hadn't purposely done any harm to Giselle, she'd been a fool and had done the best she could, she'd done what she knew to do at the time, and it just.. hadn't been good enough. It still hurt, and she didn't know if it would ever stop hurting, but now it felt like a scabbed over wound rather than a raw and festering one. Amaia would do things differently if the same thing happened now, she knew that, but before hearing it from someone else it had just seemed like an excuse. It seemed the healer had a talent for mending pains beyond the physical, and it quickly became apparent that she'd learned from personal experience.
She listened to Kasienka's tale of a painful past, and she felt a new tear slide down her cheek as she looked at the little sketches, this shed for the elven woman's pain rather than her own. She'd heard of elves of her type losing their older memories over time, but she hadn't realized what sort of pain that could bring. The idea of forgetting Giselle's name felt just as bad as, or perhaps even worse than, remembering what had happened. As Kasienka fell silent once more, Amaia pushed herself up onto her knees, letting the quilt fall from her shoulders, and hugged the other woman.
"That's horrible. I had no idea." As Amaia hugged the elf, she remembered what she'd seen when Kiune had showed everyone the conversations in the void, and what she'd been told about the sickness that plagued elven children. It was easy enough to put two and two together and see why Kasienka had it her mission to find a cure.
Amaia pulled back from the hug, now sitting up on the bed on legs folded beneath her, and took Kasienka's hands in her own.
"Thank you for coming and talking to me. I guess I needed someone to kick me out of my dark thoughts and into some.. less self-hating thoughts, I suppose. I used to think you despised me, you know, and I didn't like you, but.. it's strange how quickly feelings can change. I think we sort of have to be friends now that we've shared these pains and regrets with each other." She flashed a brief smile at Kasienka, then looked down at their joined hands, brows drawing down in thought.
"Thoughts of Giselle used to keep me going. The idea that I might find her one day kept me wanting to wake up and go to new places. I'll live with the regret, and I've done a lot of bad shit aside from that that I won't forget any time soon, but I think I need to find other things to work toward. Good things that will, I don't know, maybe make up for the bad in some way?" Amaia looked back up and though her eyes were still reddened and full of tears, they were also filled with determination that had not been present since she'd woken from Kiune's dream test.
"I think one of those things is helping you find that cure for your people, if I can, if I live long enough. Not just because you helped me, or because I've been an ass to your people all my life and should try to make up for that. It's just.. it's like this whole mission with Kouri. It feels like the right thing to do, and I want to start doing the right things instead of just the easy and fun things."
Kasienka laughed softly and tucked one a stray piece of hair flat on Amaia's head.
"You're right, it does feel like the right thing to do, but I have centuries left, my dear. You would be far happier on your own adventure rather than trying to keep up with someone as hairbrained as myself. I also go where you may not, if only because my body has been hardened to more elements. I appreciate your offer, but I couldn't forgive myself if I led to your death. No, after this mission with the Princess, you should stay with her. She will need someone like you around. Healers? She can find more of me if she looks hard enough." She leaned forward and kissed Amaia's forehead before getting off the bed, letting go of the woman's hand.
"I think I've taken up enough of your time. I should give you your privacy. Just... keep in mind that whenever you need a friend, I'm here with open arms, an open heart, and open ears." She walked across the room and waved to Amaia before leaving.
The gentle rejection did not sting, for it made all the sense in the world, but Amaia did not accept it entirely. If there came a chance to help she would do so, and if not then so be it. She wasn't quite sure what Kasienka meant by Kouri needing someone like her around, and she was doubtful of the ability to find someone equal to a healer with centuries of experience, but there was no reason to pursue those lines of thought for the moment. Instead Amaia nodded and managed a slight smile at the offer.
"I will. Thank you."
As the door closed and left her alone once more, she felt gloom and darkness settling over her once more. Not the same all-consuming darkness of self-loathing, just.. sadness. Grief for what she'd lost, regret for what she'd done. But there was a path forward through the darkness now, a plain stone path through the murk that Kasienka had showed her. Before Amaia had always thought of herself walking a golden high road above the filth and the muck, but now she saw it clearly. She was down on the ground like everyone else, and sometimes the path got muddy, but there was no use in wallowing in that mud. Keep moving and do better next time, that was all there was to it.
Amaia sat in the privacy of her claimed room for a while, thinking on this and giving a silent farewell to her lost love. That hope to reclaim past happiness had probably been weighing her down than she'd ever cared to admit to herself, keeping her from ever growing too attached to anyone else and keeping her moving to avoid those attachments, and though it was sad to let it go she felt she would be better for it. She would remember and regret her failures, but she would keep moving and do better next time.
After some time, perhaps only minutes, Amaia pushed herself off the bed and headed for the door. She'd spent enough time today on regret, or if not enough time then certainly enough energy. She felt drained, and like she might start crying again later, but that was fine. For now she didn't want to be alone, she wanted to focus on something else and move past it. There would be time for tears later, so she headed for the door to seek someone else to talk to and perhaps put her newfound life perspective to use.
