Standing Steady in the Storms Ch. 58-59

Face to Face

Notes:

Panic was probably allieviated through comment threads^^ But I do love drama so....also there is some mention of blood and I personally don't think it's that gorey and it's fairly close to minium.

There's some Theeli in this chapter! 😁

*****

Janner found himself on the cold, stone floor of the prison, dazed, in pain, unable to breathe, and trying to figure out what in Aerwiar had just happened. He backtracked in his mind, remembering his walk through the stony corridor, trying to pick the lock to get Kal out, and then the oddly painful but painless stab in his heart.

Wait, did I just—

Janner pushed himself up from the ground, feeling panic rising in his chest as he realized he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t force himself to breathe, he couldn't tell himself to breathe, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he wasn’t breathing. And his fear only multiplied when he realized there was an arrow sticking out of his chest.

He opened his mouth, willing his voice to come out of it so he could scream or say something, anything, but all the breath was gone from his lungs and throat and mind and someone was ringing a bell somewhere and they wouldn’t stop and somebody else kept lighting matches—

And then the matches burned out and the bell muffled until it was almost totally silent, except for a little voice ringing amidst the last echoes on and on and on into eternity.

***** 

“Leeli, what ‘xactly was supposed ta happen when you sang with Miss Hulwen?” Thorn asked from where he sat in the grass clearing, tearing off little blades of grass one at a time.

Leeli stood, her arms crossed, her silver whistleharp in its case on her back, chewing her lip as she gazed up at the mountain. It had been hours since she connected with her brothers, and now the stars were out, twinkling happily. Hulwen slept on the other side of the clearing, her majestic, spreading form curling around itself. “The thing that did happen,” she murmured. “I was supposed to be able to feel what Janner and Kal and Uncle Artham are feeling and maybe even get a glimpse of where they are.”

“And?” Thorn said expectantly, pausing in his lawn-mowing job. “Did ya? An’ were ya?”

Leeli fingered the strap of her whistleharp case and nodded. “Yes. Uncle Artham is worried and waiting in a cave, Kal is worried and waiting in a cell, and Janner is determined, outside of Castle Throg, and worried that Kal is going to reject him.”

Thorn whistled softly. “That sure is a whole lotta worryin’ an’ waitin’.” 

Leeli turned and looked at him, not being able to stop herself from smiling. “I think it’s our favorite thing to do as Wingfeathers,” she said quietly. “Worry and wait. Worry about whether everyone we love will live to see the next sunrise, whether the peace we love is about to be shattered, whether what we know and cherish is going to be uprooted without a second thought. And then we spend a while waiting for the Maker to come through, waiting for the right time to act, waiting for the right time to change.”

Thorn said nothing for a few minutes, he only looked at her thoughtfully. “Seems ta me,” he said slowly, sounding out every word carefully as though each was vitally important but also as if he were treading on uncertain ground. “That if ya all spent less time worryin’ an’ more time doin’ somethin’ ta stop yourselves from worryin’ that ya’d be a whole lot less worried.”

Leeli felt her heart breaking a little at the truth in his statement. The only people in their family who didn’t worry all that much were Kalmar, Arundelle, and Sara (if Janner wasn’t in trouble or doing something dangerous). “Life is just so worrisome,” she whispered, feeling her eyes brim with tears. “It’s not always like this but when it is…oh, Thorn, when it’s bad is really bad. There are never any in betweens.”

She heard Thorn shift and get up from the grass before walking over to her. “But when it’s good, well, then it’s really good, ain’t it?” He said kindly, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She glanced up at him and smiled. “I guess you’re right. When it’s good it’s real good.”

“Really,” Thorn corrected her, a grin plastered on his face.

Leeli giggled. “No, Thorn, it’s real this time. When things are good at home, they’re real good and they’re real real.”

*****

“Please, please, please, don’t die on me Janner. Please don’t,” were the words that slowly drifted back into Janner’s mind. Well, the words really slipped in unnoticed by the pounding army that marched around in his head. He consciously took a shaky breath that sent a pained groan through his lips without him intending it to.

“Janner, are you alright?” the voice that Janner’s mind was slowly, letter by letter, identifying as belonging to his little brother spoke again. It filtered through slowly, fighting against the pounding headache that consumed every thought.

“‘m…okay,” he hissed through gritted teeth, trying to force himself into a sitting-up position leaning against the wall. When he did so, little trickles of something warm ran down his front. His chest felt like it was a huge bruise, centralizing at his heart. The pain was the worst there. Janner convinced his left arm to snake its way up so he could feel what exactly had happened. His fingers crawled closer and closer to the source of pain, until he felt Kal’s hand grasping his wrist and pulling them away. 

He shook his head. “Don’t. You can look, but don’t touch it. It’s an arrow. A Fang shot you with it and if it weren’t for these furs that I’m too scared to take off,” he indicated towards the most obvious one, Uncle Artham’s cloak. “I don’t actually know if I’d be talking to you right now.” 

Janner closed his eyes, feeling the panic from earlier coursing through him again. “So…we need to get it out,” he said slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Can you do it?”

He heard Kal sigh, and when he opened his eyes, Janner could see the fear mingled with hesitation in Kal’s face. “I-I don’t want to hurt you anymore than you’ve already been hurt,” Kal replied quietly.

“There is an…arrowhead in my chest…right now. It’s not that deep…but it hurts like crazy,” Janner breathed shallowly, trying to jar not only the arrow shaft but his body as little as possible. His ribs ached and his sternum felt as though someone had pierced it with a needle. Though technically, they did. “Please, just pull…it out from…the angle it’s-it’s already…at. I’ve…I’ve got bandages and some…other—”

“You have things to take care of this?” Kal looked at him earnestly, and Janner nodded. 

“Jus’ help me get this out…so I can…breathe again,” he whispered.

Kal looked at the arrow worriedly and flexed his fingers, clenching his fists in and out. Janner watched him through the slits in his eyes, feeling the listlessness from lack of air to breathe settling over him again. 

“Okay,” Kal finally said, speaking from somewhere underwater. “I’m going to pull it out in three…” 

Janner felt the shaft shift as his brother grasped it and held back a groan of pain as it dug further into his chest. 

“Two…” 

Now Kal’s voice and hands were shaking, and it took every bit of Janner’s willpower to not mention the arrowhead biting into his skin far more than he wanted it to. 

“One!” 

It came out with an unexpected jolt and spurt of blood that was hidden beneath Uncle Artham’s cloak. Janner gasped in pain and clenched his teeth, not so much at the damage the point had done as it went into his skin and more so at the damage it caused on its way out.

“Can, can I try and clean it now?” Kal asked warily. 

Janner forced himself to breathe first — it still hurt, but not so badly as before — and then responded with a breathless, “Sure.”

His mind so groggy that if Kalmar had told him Sara was in the room he probably wouldn’t have registered it, Janner found himself doing absolutely nothing to help his brother as he took off the heavy cloaks to reveal his normal shirt underneath. He didn’t know what it looked like, but it felt wet and cold in the frigid cell, and he shivered. 

He thought Kal’s trembling fingers unbuttoned the front of it and drew it back, revealing the wound that most likely felt much worse than it looked. “Pr’tty s’perf’cial?” he asked, half asleep and half awake.

“Eh, kinda. Still lots of blood, though.”

There was silence for a few seconds before Janner heard the light trickle of water being poured onto something. Then the water and the something touched his chest and his eyes flew wide open. “Agh!” he half-yelled. “Kal…not…only is that freezing, but…it hurts.”

Kal smiled at him sympathetically. “It’s gonna get worse. I can distract you with a story, though. Do you want me to tell you about what happened to me now or later?”

He gently rubbed the cloth or whatever it was across the wound and it hurt. Janner gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, clutching at the ground with his fingers. “Now’s…..good,” he hissed through gritted teeth, even though he was secretly scared of finding out.

Over the course of the cleaning and bandaging process, both of which were excruciatingly painful, Kal explained what had happened after the Bat Fang took him. Janner couldn’t help but feel the guilt and grief boiling up in him again, just this time, it was dulled by the stronger pain. When it was all over, though, when the wound was clean and bleeding less than before and Kal had put some sort of salve on it and bandaged it as best he could, considering there was no easy way of doing so because of where it was situated, Janner felt the well of shame threatening to overflow. “‘m sorry,” he murmured. “‘m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to. I came…after you, I pr’mise.” his words slurred, and he felt as though he weighed so much that he could do nothing but sleep.

Janner’s eyelids fluttered shut, but he caught a glimpse of the tears in Kal’s eyes. 

“I believe you,” he whispered, his voice cracking a little. 

He raised a hand to his face and Janner guessed he was brushing away tears. “Are-are you sure?” he asked.

Kal nodded fiercely. “I believe you,” he said quietly.

Those words were the last ones Janner heard before he fell asleep, and they echoed in his mind the entire time, filling him with sweet relief that Kalmar at least knew that he had not purposely left him alone, briefly numbing the pain in his heart.

*****

Notes:

This was one of the few things I did medical research for! Rather, I did medical research for the original injury, which was supposed to be much worse than this. I toned it down for two reasons a) I need Janner alive for...more time and b) I want the climax to be phsyically possible, and if the arrow had gone elsewhere (say....shoulder), the climax probably wouldn't be able to physically happen.

On the trail of that-should've-been-way-worse-than-it-was, here's my theory: fur cloaks = bullet proof vest. It's an analogy. Also, he was wearing both his and Artham's (one was supposed to be for Kal) AND he was standing at an angle. This absorbed the blow a good deal, hence my analogy. So I basically treated this similar to the cliche scenario in TV shows when someone fires at the cop, but they're wearing a bulletproof vest, so they're not dead 😁

Disclaimer: don't use this for actual medical adivice. It was probably my sleep-deprived 2:00 a.m. brain wriitng sooooo...

Grief into Joy

Notes:

Another one of those chapters where I have fun, abrupt tonal shifts that may or may not be physically or psycholigically accurate, but who are we kidding - since when is fiction physically or psycholigcally accurate?

Also, keyword last chapter was that the guilt and such was briefly numbed, which means it still needs to be sorted through. Actually, there are several layers that need to be sorted through, but we'll cover them in time^^

*****

When Janner woke, the first thing he noticed was how cold his nose, cheeks, and ears were and how warm the rest of him was. The second occured when he opened his eyes and realized it was bright, but oddly so. It didn’t look like the sun normally did when it rose over the peaks in the Killridge Mountains. He was laying on his back, something rock-hard beneath him but something thick and warm above him. It reminded him of his time with Artham in the cave, and for a second, he thought he was there. 

“How do you feel?” were the words that brought Janner back to reality and reminded him that he was not trekking up a snowy mountain, he was not in Anniera, he was not on a raft, he was not on an island. He was in a cell below Castle Throg. With Kalmar. 

Janner’s mind stalled for a second. Kal. He was actually, physically with him again. A thousand thoughts of apology, grief, love, conviction, and longing raced through Janner’s head, and even though he desperately wanted and needed to convey everything to his little brother, when he opened his mouth, no words came forth. Only silence. Kal looked at him, waiting for an answer to his question, but when Janner tried to respond to it instead, his mind would not allow words to come. 

The two brothers stared at each other, Kalmar’s once-white nightshirt covered in mud, curly, dark-brown hair tangled in dirty knots, and face grimy and fixed in a look of concern and joy, and Janner’s tan button-up stained dark brown with dried blood, straight hair still looking windblown and tossed, and face pale, tired, and strained. 

“How do you feel?” Kal repeated after they had stayed in that position for several minutes.

Janner shook his head and coaxed his mouth to move. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears spilling down his cold cheeks. 

Kal looked puzzled and scooted closer to him, looking directly at his face. “Janner, what are you talking about?”

“I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered again, this time pushing himself into a sitting position so he could at least look his brother in the eye. It hurt his chest horribly, but Kal deserved that. Kal deserved anything he was willing to give him. Because he was willing to give his King his life. “It was wrong of me to chase y-you away, it was wr-wrong of me to grieve instead of looking f-for you, it was wrong of m-me to not try h-h-h-arder to rescue you from the F-Fang, and it was just so inex-inex-inexplicably wrong of me to s-s-s-spend so much t-time in Anniera w-when you w-w-were stuck h-here with Amrah, thinking tha-tha-that you had k-k-killed Sara a-and Galya a-a-a-an—” Janner’s breath hitched and he shuddered, a wracking sob going through his entire body and jarring his chest, hurting almost enough to make him forget about the shame he felt but not quite. Tears poured down his cheeks and onto his neck and when he glanced at Kal and saw his little brother’s face twisted in something he couldn’t place, he assumed the worst and, crossing his legs and folding his arms around himself, leaned forward and looked at the floor, weeping. 

He was angry at himself for doing what he had done and grieved beyond measure because of what he had forced upon Kal. 

“Janner,” his brother’s voice broke a little when he spoke. “Janner, please listen to me.” 

Janner fought the urge to shake his head at Kalmar in response, because even though he wanted to, his little brother deserved to be listened to. So he did.

 “I was never angry with you. Not really. What you said…it hurt but,” Janner couldn’t bear to look up and if he did, Kal probably would have been too blurry through his tears to be visible, but it seemed like a spot where he would shrug his shoulders. “At the same time, I thought I deserved it. I thought I deserved your anger and frustration and anything else you leashed on me. Later, when I was with Amrah, she tried to get me to hate you because of what you said when you were angry.”

 Janner squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the inner pain of the thought of Kal hating him because it was his greatest fear. 

“But it didn’t work,” came the unexpected but gentle words, filled with love. Janner blinked and looked up, finding himself staring straight into Kal’s dark blue eyes. “She couldn’t make me hate you. Do you want to know why?” He didn’t answer, but Kalmar said it anyway. “Janner, it didn’t work because I never hated you. I never have and I never will. I love you,” he spoke firmly, his voice thick with tears. “And I always will. So please, stop getting yourself hurt or almost killed or dead because of me. It’s terrifying!”

At the words, “I love you,” a weight he had grown so accustomed to that it had faded into the back of Janner’s mind lifted from his shoulders, and he felt liberty coursing through him, like a renewing spring rain. His heart was lighter than it had been in what seemed like forever, so light that when Kal asked him to stop almost dying, he laughed aloud and didn’t care that it sent a shock of pain through his chest in the process. 

Kal’s face had been serious, but he couldn’t help but smile at the reaction. Janner saw it. He saw the corners of his little brother’s mouth turning up into a happy curve, and he saw his eyes grow brighter with happiness. “I’m not joking, you know,” he said again, this time while trying to keep down laughter. 

The words only made both of them laugh even harder, until Kal was literally rolling on the dirty stone floor and Janner was clutching his chest, trying to stop laughing because not only was rapidly breathing in frigid air painful, but the movement jarred the fresh wound and bruising. It hurt so badly, yet at the same time it felt wonderful to the point at which he could not bear to stop. 

“You really do need to not almost get killed constantly,” Kal choked out, unable to keep his face even remotely straight, as the topic called for. 

Janner laughed harder. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help it! It just keeps happening. You’re a very reckless person, you know.”

“Well there’s no way it was my fault five different times,” Kal guffawed, holding his stomach because he was laughing so much. 

“Oh, that hurts,” Janner finally gasped, when tears of laughter streamed down his face. His chest still ached and even burned a little, but not with the same conviction it had the night before. 

“Did, did the salve help at all?” Kal, still laying on the cold, stone floor and struggling to breathe, turned his head so he could look at Janner.

“What salve?” Janner asked as he wiped the tears from his face. 

“Right, you were half-passed out on me when I was doing that.” Kal grinned and Janner rolled his eyes. Even as he did so, though, he felt joy running through him because he was with his little brother and things were as they normally were between the two of them. Minus the cell and the cold and the stone and the arrow wound and bruising  and...well, other than their surroundings and physical states, everything was feeling normal again. ”Basically, I found bandages and a jar of salve in your pack. There was a little note card attached to a ribbon that was tied around the jar. It says...” 

Kal got up and scrambled around, looking for the note that should not have been all that difficult to find, considering how well the lantern lit the cell. “Where did the lantern come from?” Janner asked as he watched his brother search. “Unless I’m crazy, I don’t think it was here when I was trying to get in, but I do think it was here when I was laying on the floor. And how did you get untied enough to help me?”

“Uh,” Kal paused in his search for a moment and cocked his head. “I think Amrah threw it in here or something after you fell in. I don’t know why. And in answer to your second question, your sword was kind of just laying on the floor and the point ended up being very useful in cutting rope.” 

Janner furrowed his brow in confusion at the first answer. Why would Amrah do something helpful? She’s far more confusing than any villain in the books I’ve read. 

Kal was still looking around for the note and was rummaging through the leather pack when Janner saw the notecard. It had somehow managed to attach itself to Kal’s pants' pocket, and it was hanging there, swinging this way and that. Janner’s hand flew to his mouth in an effort to hide his smile.

After an unsuccessful search, Kal stood up and sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “I can’t find it!”

Janner felt his mouth twitch. “I found it already.”

Kal huffed at him and crossed his arms. “Please tell me you’re actually going to tell me where it is and not make me look for it some more, because I’m trying to find the label so I can read it to you.”

“It’s stuck to the back of your pants,” Janner squeaked out, trying to keep himself from laughing again because he knew how much it would hurt. 

Kal looked at him quizzically and patted the seat of his pants, his face twisting in humor when he felt the paper that was indeed stuck to his back pocket. He cleared his throat and brought it forward solemnly. Janner could barely keep himself from bursting out laughing all over again. The promise of more pain stopped him, though. 

“Okay,” Kal began. “It says: 

"Janner. This trip worried me from the start, and now it seems my fears have been confirmed. Amrah changed the rules again, and instead of going with you to rescue Kal, I am forced to stay behind. I know you think it is best and that in a way you are relieved — please don’t deny it — but I still want to keep you safe. Somehow. 

"So I’m giving you this. It is some sort of healing salve that Mama gave me before we left Anniera. She said I would need it if we were trekking up a mountain, though at this point I'm certain she never wanted me doing so anyway and simply didn't have the heart to tell me, 'no.' It’s supposed to ease pain and keep wounds from getting infected. I think she wanted me to have it because of how 'recently' I gave birth to Evnia and Elquinn. 

"But I don’t need it anymore. So I am giving it to you instead. Stay safe, my love. Bring Kal home, but stay safe. Stay alive. If you need this — rather, when you need this, because I know you’re going to get yourself hurt in one way or another — use it and remember me. I am waiting for you.

"Love, Sara."

There was silence for a few minutes as Janner stared at the ceiling, looking at nothing in particular but the image of Sara in his mind’s eye, her curly brown hair caressing her face and her diamond blue eyes shining like the sea. Kal stood there, holding the note in his hand and shifting his feet awkwardly. 

Janner finally found his voice and spoke. “Thank you for finding that. I don’t know how I didn’t before now.”

Kal scratched the back of his head. “I’m happy to help but,” he gave a nervous chuckle. “I kind of feel like I read something I wasn’t privy to.”

Janner smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it. Oh!” he said suddenly, remembering something. “Hand me my pack. I have something for you.”

Kal picked it up and passed it to him, looking at him all the while, curiosity and confusion written on his face.

Janner put his pack in front of him and struggled to untie the little pocket in the front because of the stiffness in his fingers from the cold (in his right hand, it was most likely something else, but he chose to ignore that) and how thoroughly he had knotted it. When he had finally succeeded, he reached inside with two of his fingers and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Janner smiled and held it out to Kal. 

“It’s from Galya,” he said softly. 

Kal stared at it in wonder and amazement. He opened his mouth but said nothing, so instead he took it from Janner’s outstretched hand, unfolded it, and looked at it as if it were the most precious gift in the world. 

He did not say anything regarding the paper’s contents, whether it was a drawing or words or both or something entirely different, but based on the enraptured look on Kal’s face, Janner knew it was something glorious. 

When he had finished, Kal closed his eyes, folded the little slip of paper, pressed it close to his heart, and looked up at the ceiling. Janner thought he saw a tear trickling down his little brother’s face, and when Kal turned to look at him, the light from the lantern made it glisten like a stream of stars. 

“Thank you,” Kal whispered huskily. “Thank you so much.”

*****

Notes:

Okay, just try to enjoy the allieviated grief in the laughter scene and don't think about the floor.

And awww <3 (for Kalya) Don't worry, we'll have Kal's POV next so we can actually see what Galya wrote to him.

Also I'm thinking the first portion of the next chapter is slightly....I don't know, overdoing it. The trouble is that I can't exactly get rid of it because then a) the chapter is shorter and b) a really great character moment for Kal appears in it. But at the same time I've always felt (since I originally posted it) that it was just a bit....obnoxious, I guess. So my apologies in advance. HOWEVER I think I may have figured out a half-way decent excuse for it, which I will reveal tomorrow^^