Standing Steady in the Storms Ch. 43

Setting Off on the Journey

Notes:

It's going to seem like there was a BIG time skip. That's because I extended the amount of time between a) when J, K, & L first connected and when Amrah appeared [it wehnt from 2 days to 4 days], b) when Amrah appeared and when the fencing practice happened [it went from 1 day to 1 weekish], and c) when the fencing practice happened and when this chapter starts [it went from 3ish days to 1 weekish]. The original work has much less time between all of this and is also less realistic, imho.

*****

“I have returned,” Amrah announced, bursting through Kal’s bedroom door after she unlocked it. 

Kal glanced at her and couldn’t help but think how ridiculous her entrance had been. He had been drawing for the past few hours, just waiting for it to be late enough so that he could sleep without waking up at the crack of dawn the next morning and having an entire day to spend in boredom. 

“You were gone for, like, two weeks. Where did you go?” he asked evenly, making a mental note not to reveal that he had made contact with Janner and Leeli multiple times, including one rather informative one several days before. Janner had written a message on a piece of paper and it had said: “Amrah was here. Don’t trust what she says. I’m coming soon.”

Kal had smiled when he read it, partially because it was a relief to see that Janner was coming to get him and also because it was funny that it had taken him this long to come up with a decent form of nonverbal communication. 

“Oh, just some around for some sightseeing. But my main destination was Anniera,” Amrah said, smiling. “It really is beautiful this time of year. I discussed negotiation strategies with your brother. He may come at some point. Convincing him that you were even worth the effort was quite difficult. He still blames you for his wife’s death."

Kal sent a silent prayer to the Maker, grateful that he had learned the truth within the past two weeks. Outwardly, though, he narrowed his eyes at Amrah, keeping Janner's message about lies in mind.

"Oh, that irritates you, does it? I am sorry, I wish I could make him care,” Amrah said, assuming her false composure of sweetness. "Supposedly he can’t come because something is wrong with him, but personally I think he is just making excuses because he does not want to have to deal with you.”

“What’s wrong with Janner?” Kalmar asked.

Amrah stared at him. “I have told you this a hundred times — he simply does not care about you. He’s spending his time with your family, having a wonderful time not evening thinking about you. He does not want you to come home. It is easier without you.”

Kalmar rolled his eyes inwardly. Had Amrah’s arguments always been so ridiculous? There had been times when he had been on the cusp of believing her but had held back the part of himself that knew the truth. Now, though, her words sounded idiotic and were frankly an embarrassment to liars everywhere. 

And when he said, “what’s wrong with him,” he hadn’t meant, “why is Janner being a jerk,” as Amrah assumed.  He was actually asking what was physically wrong with Janner. The first time he had seen Janner he had looked absolutely terrible, and each subsequent time he had started looking more like his old self, still a little hollow, though. He sincerely hoped Artham and Sara wouldn’t allow Janner to even step foot off Anniera until he looked (and was) perfectly healthy again. He wanted to know what Janner had actually done to himself, and a tiny part of him had hoped Amrah could tell him.

But when he turned back to continue sketching, Kal caught a glimpse of Amrah’s face out of the corner of his eye. She looked angry and eager, almost as though she had a dastardly plot hidden up her sleeve that would destroy life as they all knew it forever.

Kal hoped Janner would indeed come soon. 

***** 

“You’re absolutely certain you have everything?” Nia stood just a few feet away from the little group of three that was preparing to leave, holding Elquinn while Arundelle, who was resisting the urge to strangle Artham in a hug, held Evnia.

Janner adjusted the straps of Sara’s leather pack again before looking up to answer his mother. “I think we should. Sara has the food, Uncle Artham has the flint, matches, and oil, and I have…” He crouched down to look at his pack again, just to make sure he really did have everything. “Canteens and extra of pretty much everything. Oh, and we all have a warm cloak packed along with scarves and gloves.”

“Don’t forget the bedrolls,” Artham reminded him as he checked the leather bag he had slung over his shoulder. A normal backpack wouldn’t exactly fit over his wings, so he used a single-strap back that hung by his waist.

“And your cloak,” Arundelle added. Janner’s mouth twitched in humor at the look in his uncle’s eyes. 

“Yes, Arundelle, I have my cloak,” he said with just a hint of testiness.  A normal cloak wouldn’t fit around his wings, and Artham would have gone entirely without one saying that he would “be warm enough,” but Arundelle had threatened to make him stay behind. In the end, he had brought a fur cloak with buttons in the back that were situated in just the right manner so his wings could still come through. Arundelle had made it years before, and Janner knew Artham hated to admit that he had yet to wear it. 

“Right — the bedrolls,” Janner looked at his bedroll that still lay on the ground and picked it up, lashing it to the top of his pack. He picked it up and held back a grunt as he hefted it onto his left shoulder. 

“Janner, let me help you!” Sara said, getting behind him to take some of the weight as he pulled it on. 

“Uh, no, that’s fine!” Janner said quickly as he slipped his right arm through with another stifled grunt. 

Sara came around to face him and looked at him suspiciously. “Janner, how much weight are you carrying in that pack?”

Janner chuckled nervously and barely noticed his right hand dropping to his side involuntarily to finger his sword sheath. That is, until the odd numb sparks that he had briefly forgotten about shot through his hand. “As much as I can handle?” 

Sara planted her hands on her hips and glared at him just a little bit. It wasn’t a glare of anger, though. Mostly one of frustration and concern. 

“Well, Uncle Artham is carrying more,” Janner said quickly, realizing a second after he said it that he was only digging himself into a deeper hole and using an excuse that only Kal would tell someone.

Sara folded her arms this time. “Janner, deflection doesn’t work and you know it. My pack is so ridiculously light that I don’t even think I’m carrying all the food.”

Janner looked at her and gave her a half-smile. He would rather her just stay in Anniera for her own safety, and for the twins' as well, but if she wouldn't do that, he wanted would have to make things as easy for her as possible. “Sara, you’re the slightest. And you just gave birth to twins.”

“Over a month ago!” She retorted this time, her eyes sparking with what Janner knew was worry masked by frustration. Sara glanced over at Evnia and Elquinn. Then she looked back at Janner. “And I’m not the one who starved myself or nearly died of dehydration out on a raft or practically smashed my skull into a rock or—” her blue eyes filled with tears and she choked on her words.

Even though the memories of what Sara said were still fresh and a little painful, Janner felt his heart hurting for Sara more than anyone else. He hated that she had suffered as she had and wanted to alleviate her pain, but something told him that would not happen soon. 

He took her hands in his and squeezed them, looking deeply into her eyes, totally oblivious to anyone around them. “Hey, it’s going to be alright,” he murmured. Janner couldn’t help but find the reverse situation a little surprising.  

In the past few weeks, Sara had comforted him in his trials. The moments when she or Artham had been there were the only clear moments. Everything else was a blur of stormy skies and grief. 

Now though, Janner felt the strength and urgency of a Throne Warden driving him to rescue Kalmar from Amrah and bring him back home to Anniera, to the family, to the people, and to Galya. That same dedication flooded into his care for Sara and he found himself longing to rescue her from her fear that something dreadful would happen. 

Sara nodded and blinked back her tears. “Alright,” she whispered. Then she walked over to Nia and took Elquinn from her, holding him close. Janner followed her and heard her whispering, “Be good for NiNi, my little squeeblin. Sleep for her and smile for her and try not to scream too much.” Sara kissed the top of his forehead before turning around and placing him in Janner’s arms. 

He smiled at his son and watched him blink at the bright daylight with those too-big blue eyes of his. It was one of the few times when Elquinn’s face wasn’t puckered in preparation for screaming, and Janner relished every moment of it. The brightness of his eyes, the softness of his face, the smallness of his body, the lightness of his weight — he jotted down every single detail that he possibly could in his memory. 

They did the same with Evnia, who was gurgling happily usual and perfectly ready for a snuggle. She smiled up at Janner, or at least as much as an infant can smile, her green eyes twinkling. He brought his forefinger close to her cheek and stroked her baby-soft skin gently, then passed her to Sara a reluctantly. Watching his wife and daughter, the former's diamond blue eyes brimming with tears, he made a mental note to write something about this the first time he had the chance.

Janner hugged Nia and Arundelle goodbye while Sara was occupied with Evnia, and a sinking feeling settled over him. Something told him that the journey would not be easy and there would be more pain and tears and grief. More demands and anger, more questions without answers. 

More time to lean on My strength and not your own.

He felt peace wash over him, and he slipped his hand into Sara’s the moment she gave Evnia back to Arundelle, just to remind her that he was there and provide some comfort. He wished she would stay, but he knew suggesting it now would be utterly pointless.

They walked over to Hulwen and the large blue dragon. Leeli was on the ground beside her friend, talking to Galya. As they drew nearer, Galya turned to look at them. 

“Janner,” she said softly. “I was wondering if you could give Kalmar a message from me when you see him.”

Janner smiled. “Of course, Galya. What is it?”

Galya looked at him, her green eyes brimming with tears. “I just want him to know,” her voice wavered for a second, but as Janner watched she steeled herself. Her voice was steady and pure when she spoke again. “Please tell him that I love him and that I’m waiting for him back home. And that I’ve been using the sketchbook he gave me.”

Janner grinned. “Of course I will. In fact, I would love to.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “This is for him.” She pressed a sheet of paper into Janner’s and before running off, back down the path that led to her house. 

Janner tucked the paper into his pocket, not intending to see what was inside until he saw his brother again. 

“Let’s go,” he said firmly, and they mounted the dragons and set off for the Killridge Mountains.

*****

Notes:

Galya appearing at the end was an effort to bring her back into the story. She'll appear one or two more times. This wasn't meant to be ship-centered in the slightest, but the ships (Janara, Arthundelle, Theeli, and Kalya) were supposed to interweave themselves and dance throughout the story.

And I know Sara should stay, but I promise: you'll see it resolved soon.