After Times of Tender Agony: Ch. 33

Thwarted (in a Good Way)

Notes:

I AM SO SORRY about not posting last night. I wasn't feeling great yesterday, and I was neither up to posting, nor writing.

Okay, apparently, I attempted to create levity more often than I realized. The first section of this chapter is one of those attempts 😂

The second half of the chapter isn't really funny in any sense, but it's not depressing either.

The following could be gathered based on context clues, but I'll list it for clarification: between this chapter and the previous, some time has passed (idk, maybe a weekish), Janner's health has improved a bit, and we've had a location switch (i.e. considering they're going to be there for another fourish months, Artham's trying to get them somewhat out of Jebsun's (figurative) hair if it's not completely necessary. Also, Artham probably doesn't want to keep getting ticked off by Jebsun 😂)

ALSO - I almost forgot. As per Andrea's suggestion, I added some Florid speech to Gammon and Artham's conversation, so if you'd like to go and read that, just letting you know it's there^^

*****

The conversation Artham had wanted to have with Addie and Joe Shooster was not going as planned. His aim had been business—Joe had insisted he sit in the parlor. His intent had been to get straight to the point—Addie hadn’t let him begin talking until she made him a cup of tea. And so far, his requests had been thwarted as well.

“Addie, please, let me pay you for the rooms.” Artham felt as though he was begging by that point. He was glad Joe had gone to get firewood; he felt a little less embarrassed begging Addie than he would begging Joe. Letting them use one of the rooms during the past two weeks had been incredibly kind and generous of her and Joe, but they couldn’t impose for another four moons, especially considering they would need three! 

Shaking her head again, Addie crossed her arms. “Artham, you and Janner are closer to family than anyone else in Glipwood, and Sara’s such a dear! She’s been helping me when she has spare time. Surely that covers the cost of her room?”

Artham sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Addie really didn’t want them paying. How did she fail to realize that Anniera was more than willing to pay them higher than the usual rate? “Maybe it covers half her room. But I’m paying in full for the other two.” He had already explained he would have to pay with credit since he didn’t have coin on him to cover the cost of four moons of board. That fact alone should have forced him to pay more than the usual amount!

Clucking her tongue, Addie eyed him. “Now Artham, you know Janner’s not going to be using that room much.”

Blinking at her in disbelief, Artham stared at her for a few silent moments. “Addie,” he finally managed. “He’s going to spend more time in his room than anyone else!”

Addie shook her head. “Artham, if he really gets sick as easily and dreadfully as you say he does, you can bet Jebsun’s gonna want him over at his practice so he can keep a close eye on him. And he’s gonna be keeping an eye on him pretty often. No, you’re only paying half price for that one, too.”

Raking his fingers through his hair, Artham silently prayed Addie would let him pay full price for his room, at the very least. “Okay. I’ll pay half for Janner and Sara’s rooms—can you reach into the depths of graciousness in your heart and let me pay—”

“Nothing for your own?” Addie suggested, her eyes twinkling.

“Joe!” Artham cried out desperately, beyond his concern about groveling. Joe had just re-entered; Artham couldn’t let his opportunity go to waste. “Please, let me pay in full for one of the rooms!”

Putting a few logs on the fire, Joe chucked. “Addie, don’t trouble the lad. Let him pay half for the first two rooms and full for the third, if he’s so inclined.”

Addie finally nodded and took a sip of her tea, and Artham sighed in relief. Then he furrowed his brow. “Wait,” he said, realization dawning. “Joe, you couldn’t’ve heard the conversation outside—the wind was blowing, and the woodshed's not near the door! And you wouldn’t have known about the prices we agreed on for the other rooms. Did…did you and Addie talk about this earlier?”

Joe grinned and joined him on the sofa. “What’s it to you if we did? There’s not much traffic this time of year, and business is slow. We’ve plenty of rooms available.”

“All the more reason for me to pay you full price, or more!” Artham brought back the argument from before, still hoping to persuade them. “It’s not the season for occupants; surely extra coin won’t hurt your pockets.”

Smiling, Addie placed her hand over his and squeezed. “Artham, it’s not hurting us.”

“Besides,” Joe continued. “You should know that’s not how business works. When demand is high and supply is limited, prices are high. When demand is low and supply is high, prices are low. We’ve plenty of coin saved from the summer and spring season, with the marketing for Dragon Day.”

Artham sighed and, after placing his teacup on the end table, fell back against the couch. “I wasn’t expecting an economics lesson.”

“Or defeat,” Addie chimed in with a laugh.

Shaking his head, Artham managed to smile. “I suppose I’ve been thwarted, haven’t I?”

“That you have lad, but don’t act so down about it,” Joe told him cheerfully. “There’s far worse things to lose and fail at.”

“Don’t I know it,” Artham murmured thinking of times long past, times of late, and times surely to come. Don’t I just know that’s truer than almost anything in Aerwiar.

He'd find some way to repay the Shoosters, even if that meant sending them monetary-themed packages with no return address across the sea.

*****

“How are you feeling?” Sara murmured. She had just finished coaxing him into eating a bowl of Addie’s broth, and it hadn’t tasted terrible.

Janner smiled a little and opened his eyes. He was glad when he looked at her, it wasn’t from practically flat on his back, even if he didn’t have the strength to sit up on his own. The pillows in the Only Inn’s rooms were firmer, and it took less of them behind his back to prop him up reasonably. “Fine.”

“Janner…” she warned. 

He laughed, then instantly regretted it when it turned into a coughing fit. He hated that coughing was so violent and jarring; why did it have to make his entire body hurt? He hated the sound coughing made when the pressure of it pressed into his ear. 

Sara pulled him into her arms effortlessly so he could cough and breathe better, rubbing concentric circles into his back and waiting for him to finish. The first brush of her hand against his back stung, but when she applied pressure instead of feathery touch, it was alright, and the imagined pain died away. 

Once he stopped coughing and Sara almost reluctantly lowered him to the pillows, he admitted what had been half true before and certainly true now. “I’m tired.”

The guilt pulsating from her tore his heart into guilty pieces, though he wasn’t sure how many times he could handle it before he broke completely. “Please don’t...blame yourself,” he said haltingly, pausing for a breath. “I’d rather have a reason to...laugh and hurt because of it than not.” 

“Are you hurting too terribly?” she asked, her diamond blue eyes tormenting more than physical pain could. Did she know that? Did she know what her eyes did to him? He would never tell her, and it certainly wouldn’t stop him from looking into them, but her gaze hurt.

He shook his head in response. It was a bit of a lie, since everything hurt and ached now, and he was almost certain his leg was bleeding again, but he was not going to make her feel guiltier than she already did. He could only manage to alleviate a piece of her guilt, but a piece was better than nothing. “I’m fine, really.”

“That cough worries me, you know,” she said softly, picking up the bowl she had placed on the nightstand. She turned it around in her hands. “Jebsun likely won’t be thrilled either.”

If coughing worried Sara, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—do it again, not when she was around. He wouldn’t let himself. There was no need for her to worry. He couldn’t hurt her any more than he already had over the past few weeks. What if she broke because of it?

“If you’re truly tired like you said a few minutes ago, I want you to sleep.” Sara smiled at him and squeezed his hand tightly. “Do you want me to stay up here and wait for you to do that, or will you be alright if I take this bowl down to Addie and help her with a few things?”

Janner sighed and closed his eyes. “I think I can sleep if you’re with Addie.” It was what she wanted. The more detailed option, the one she said last, enunciated more carefully—she wanted that. And he would give it to her, even though her absence would entertain nightmares. He hoped they wouldn’t be dreadfully horrific combinations of reality and imagination, ones where the Overseer came and threatened him with Sara’s death if he didn’t give in, and then Sara wound up…gone anyway.

“Only if you’re sure, Janner.”

“I’m sure.” And he was. 

Her skirts rustled; likely she had just stood. “Do you want me to move one of the pillows, so you’re laying down a bit more?”

Janner smiled at her consideration and opened his eyes for her. He nodded. “Yes, please.”

She moved the pillow gently, placing it on the floor and helping him get resituated. Then she pulled the covers up again, smoothed them, and kissed him on the cheek. It was strange how even though the kiss was a light, feathery touch, it didn’t burn. 

“Sleep well,” she whispered, waiting until he had closed his eyes to leave.

Janner heard the door open and shut, and he heard her footsteps as they became further and further away. When he was certain she was out of hearing range, he let silent tears escape. Yes, they were, by nature, silent, but he was scared they would become audible. 

Maker, he whispered in his mind. He couldn’t bear the sound of whispering in prayer aloud. Please, I know I don’t deserve it after everything I said to You and about You, but please, help me sleep without seeing them. 

Even as he prayed the prayer, he didn’t believe it would work, didn’t believe the Maker would come through, and as more tears stained his cheeks and he drifted into a restless sleep, he couldn’t help but be certain the monsters would come again.

*****

Notes:

The contrast between how much is being said out loud in the first and the second parts of the chapter. Artham, Addie, and Joe are having a normal, kind of funny, elaborate conversation. Plenty of words are being passed back and forth. Janner and Sara are barely talking at all. Sara's talking a bit more (meaning the strings of text where she speaks contain more words) but Janner's...talking very little. ANYWAY, just note this...make of it what you will

The somewhat familial relationship (Aunt and Uncle to Nephew-ish) between the Shoosters and Artham is something I pulled from a writer's works on Ao3. They did a bunch of one-shots focused on Peet's time in Glipwood, and that was how they built the relationship, and it was really sweet, so I tried to echo it here <3

Let me know if there's anything noncanonical^^