After Times of Tender Agony: Ch. 41

First Relief

Notes:

In which we take care of something that needed to be done a really long time ago^^

*****

It was nearly dark by the time they reached Lamendron, and the city still bustled as if it were day. There hadn’t been a single hitch during the trip, and even though Janner could have sworn that the commotion of Lamendron tried every second to claw its way into the carriage and suffocate them, they found an inn near the port fairly easily. Jebsun handled the bags they had packed for their hopefully limited stay and escorted them to their rooms, while Artham continued toward the port with the carriage holding the luggage. It wasn’t so late that they couldn’t drop off the nonessentials with Greston and the crew, and the hopes were that such a choice would mean getting out of Lamendron as soon as possible.

Nia and Sara would be sharing a room, as would he, Artham, and Jebsun, but who he was with depended on the hour of the night. Artham configured it to where he and Jebsun would do two-hour shifts, during which one of them would sleep and the other would stay outside, guarding the doors to both rooms. Giving the Overseer or his puppet, Tirge, the chance to slip in was the last thing they wanted to do.

Sara and Nia worked on putting together the sandwiches she had packed for dinner and passed them out during Artham’s absence. Janner couldn’t help but find it unappetizing, but he ate a portion of his to make them happy and avoid questions and prodding looks. They let him sleep after that, and though his leg ached, exhaustion won out in the end.

He awoke sometime during Jebsun’s shift, the muscles in his leg screaming and cramping. Hot tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he drew his leg closer to his chest, but he only gasped in pain—it cramped worse. 

Janner forced himself to sit up, trying to control his breathing so he wouldn’t start coughing or crying out and wake all the inn’s residents. He could handle this on his own; Artham needed to sleep, after all, he’d only be getting half of what he normally did. Jebsun had helped him plenty of times and he had tried, unsuccessfully, but he had been weaker then. Now he might be able to manage on his own. 

Pressing his fingers into the muscle, Janner gritted his teeth as even worse pain shot through his leg. For a second he thought he had at least distributed the pain, but, no, though it didn’t hurt as badly as the origin site, now his entire lower leg—and knee—and ankle—cried out, and a few seconds later, the origin site wailed in agony.

As tears rolled down his cheeks, Janner wished he could at least let out a quiet sob. He wished screaming into his pillow really would silence it. He closed his eyes and prayed that—

“Janner, sweetie, I’m here,” Nia murmured. “Let me help, alright?”

He didn’t say anything, but he nodded, he nodded again and again, because he didn’t know what else to do.

Now Nia tried her hand at digging into the fiery muscle, but it felt different. It still hurt horrifically, but it wasn’t agony, and with each kneading, the pain lessened until it was nothing more than a dull ache. The tears hadn’t stopped flowing, but now they were tears of relief, not pain. 

“Is that better?” Nia asked, speaking soothingly, near his right ear.

Janner nodded, his eyes still closed. “How’d you learn to do that?” he whispered, because even though he hated the way his own whispers sounded, he didn’t want to wake Artham.

Nia laughed a little and cupped his cheek. “Janner, don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about Leeli’s leg. I helped her many times.”

“When?” Janner asked, furrowing his brow a little and looking at her.

A sad smile flitted onto her face, and a faraway look came into her eyes. “You and Kalmar never saw because she always came to me when you weren’t around. She didn’t want anyone else to see. It was far harder to hide it in the winter, but she managed, perhaps against my better judgement. She was worried she’d seem weak or childish for asking for help in front of you boys.” 

“I wouldn’t’ve thought that,” Janner replied, though he wasn’t sure if it was quite the thing one replied to. “Kal might’ve teased her a little, though, knowing him.” The thought of Kal made him smile and want to begin crying again or at least shed a few tears. How he missed his brother, his king.

“That’s just what I told her,” Nia said with a nod, beginning to help him lay down again. Janner didn’t really need the help, he could physically do it on his own, but he didn’t mind. “Sleep, sweetie, and don’t hesitate to ask me if you need help.”

*****

The next morning, by the time Janner woke up and made his way toward the rest of the family and Jebsun, breakfast—good porridge with milk and cinna and dried plumyums Nia had made and brought up from the inn's kitchen—was being served, and Artham had already left and come back from the port.

“Greston told me we should be ready to leave by afternoon,” he said as Janner limped over to where the rest of them were. They all turned to look at him as he did so, except for Nia, who kept her eyes on bowls she distributed. Janner hated the tap of the cane, so much like the Overseer’s, so easily drawing everyone’s attention. He hoped practice would at the very least help make the limp less obvious, and at the most eliminate his need for it entirely.

“How did you sleep?” Sara asked as he sat down next to her.

“Pretty well,” he said with a half-smile. “What about you?”

She nodded and took a ready bowl from Nia, handing it and a spoon to Artham. “Good. The beds aren’t as comfortable as Addie’s, but that’s to be expected in such a commercial place.”

“Speaking of commercial,” Artham added. “Sara, after breakfast, Nia would like you and Jebsun to go to the market and pick up a few things we might need.”

Sara smiled and passed another bowl to Jebsun. “Sounds lovely. Mama, did you make a list?”

Laughing, Nia reached into her apron pocket. “Yes, dear, I did, largely because I knew you would ask for one.”

Sara got up to take it and two more bowls; she passed one to Janner and kept the other for herself. He accepted it, nodded and smiled, but waited for Nia to begin eating before he took a bite.

After about a minute of eating in silence, Janner asked, “Mama, what will the rest of us be doing?”

“You mean you, your uncle, and myself?” Nia checked. He nodded. “We’ll be packing up what we can in here, and Artham will get the things from your room and also guard the door.”

Artham raised his hand. “That reminds me. Jebsun, you better keep Sara safe, because if she winds up getting into trouble, you will be paying in some way, I promise you.”

As per his nature, Jebsun didn’t act as though such a threat had frightened him, which was honestly impressive, since the wrath of a Throne Warden of Anniera was legendary and terrifying. “Artham, do you distrust me so much? I grew up in Skree before Gnag’s army invaded and all our weapons were taken, and I know how to defend myself and others. I literally packed a sword—a short sword, but a sword nonetheless—and while I’m absolutely certain I’m nowhere near as skilled as you are, if the need arises, I will keep Sara safe.”

Artham only grunted, and Janner couldn’t help but wonder if the two would ever actually choose to get along, or if they, in fact, quite enjoyed being at odds with each other.

*****

Janner was packing the clothing items gathered from both rooms into a carpetbag when Nia’s voice made him start slightly.

“Do you think it makes you seem weak?”* she asked, the manner in which her voice carried making it sound as though she had been thinking for quite a while, and one stray thought had flitted out of her mind.

Janner stopped and blinked at her, though she wasn’t looking at him. Had she even spoken intended to speak? “I’m sorry?”

“Asking for help,” Nia elaborated, now turning her gaze in his direction. Her voice was sharp, oddly so. “Do you think asking for help makes you seem weak?”

“Asking for help with what?” He spoke slowly, cautiously, his insides curling like a fall leaf shriveling into itself.

Nia didn’t smile at him but shook her head instead. “With anything, Janner. Help with your leg, help with your mind, help with your memories.”

Janner froze, and fear disguised as anger took hold of him in an instant. “I don’t want help,” he said slowly. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it.”

“But you need help Janner,” Nia returned, coming over to him and sitting down next to him on the neatly made bed. “And you need to talk about it.” She put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

“I don’t need help,” he seethed. I don’t need to talk about it. I don’t need to think about it. I’m fine,” —-he was fine, he was alright, nothing that had happened had hurt him in a way he couldn’t manage— “It’s not bothering me, nothing that happened has bothered me, nothing the Overseer did is bothering me, nothing Tirge did is bothering me, nothing Chathan did is bothering me,” —now he was just terrified of them, terrified and angry and uncertain if he could trust anyone every again— “Being sick and my leg hurting constantly is not bothering me, getting whipped and beaten and deafened and starved and taunted and convinced Sara was dead and being stupid enough to believe it doesn’t bother me,” —the truth he had hidden for so long was about to come out, it bubbled to the surface, it gushed out, he couldn’t stop it, and he didn’t try anyway— “Blaming Sara and the Maker and thinking they did the betraying, I was fooling myself, but it’s okay, I get it now, I get it, it’s okay, it’s okay if Sara wouldn’t want me because of it, I promise, I’ll tell her, I just don’t know how, and the Maker,” —oh what was he supposed to do about the Maker? What could he do about the Maker? — “I just don’t know! Why didn’t He help sooner?! why didn’t He,” —there it was, right at the tip of his tongue, burning his mind, the most grievous crime he had committed, his anger, his disbelief, his doubt, his fury— “WHERE WAS HE WHEN I NEEDED—” 

He was about to continue feebly convincing himself and his mother that he was fine, everything was fine, he could handle it, he was about to expose his anger toward the Maker to his mother’s face, but when he stood out of habit that he should have already broken, his right leg took the brunt of the weight, and he cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground.

He was in Nia’s arms in a moment and he was sobbing into her shoulder—“Where was He, Mama? Where was He?”—sobbing and weeping and choking on his guilt and anger and fear and yet strangely safe.

He knew he was safe as Nia rubbed concentric circles into his back, as she rocked him, as she murmured soothingly— “He was there the whole time, Janner, it was just harder to see and hear Him,”—and she prayed aloud that he would see that what he said he’d done, what he thought he’d done, he could be forgiven for all of it, that he would understand he didn’t have to bottle everything away, that he could talk to them, to her, he could yell if need be, he could be himself without fear of rejection or scorn.

“You’re safe, Janner,” she whispered as she massaged his leg, much like she had the previous night. “You’re safe. You’re safe, and you’re loved. Janner, you don’t understand how much we love you. You don’t understand that what you think you’ve done is nothing compared to our love for you, to my love for you.”

“But, but, but what a-a-about Sara?” he asked haltingly, unable to catch his breath, a coughing fit threatening him. “What about th-the Maker-er-er? Wha-a-a-at about what I’ve d-d-done to them?”

“Janner,” she said, hugging him fiercely. “Just tell. Tell them what you think you’ve done, what you thought they did, tell them, and listen to the answer, and bask in the relief of what they say.”

*****

Notes:

*let me just clarify that Nia knows that isn't the core reason he's not telling people anything. She's just using it as the conversation opener.

Alright, there we are, we had a bit of an explosion—a good explosion.

Also, I want to add that initially, Nia would have had this conversation with Janner just a day or so after his birthday, but then I realized Greston and the crew would need some extra time to prep the ship, so this got pushed back some.

Let me know if there's anything wonky or noncanonical^^