Rather than Resenting: Ch. 33 and Epilogue

Meant to be Heard

Notes:

And here is the final chapter and the epilogue! I hope this is an okay conclusion. Conclusions are hard...

*****

By the time Janner got downstairs to the Throne Room and slowed his pace to a walk, he heard almost no noise coming from the Ballroom. That means, he mused as he pushed open the door as little as possible to keep himself from being noticed, smiling when he heard the sound of one very familiar voice. He slipped the rest of the way into the room, making sure to hold the door and shut it quietly, and turned, positioning himself in a way so that he could see his younger brother. 

No, my King, he corrected himself with a smile of pride and pleasure. For Kalmar was standing up there, giving a speech in front of everyone, a speech he was pulling out of thin air that the Maker must have breathed into. Kal could crack jokes left and right at any and all times of the day and when he really needed to, he could speak wonderfully and considerately with someone one-on-one. But in front of crowds, giving words of wisdom, especially ones had not prepared, was not his strong suit. Yet even though it was not, it sounded as though it was. 

He watched Kalmar, feeling love and peace and gratefulness in his heart, and as he did so, he saw the passion in his entire demeanor, heard the beauty in every word. He was not hearing his written speech spoken through another’s mouth. No, he knew he was hearing the Maker's words through his brother’s voice. There was a rare and exquisite majesty to the words being spoken, yet there was an odd familiarity to them as well.

Concepts like forgiveness, atonement, understanding, compassion, obedience, and love were intertwined throughout the message. Concepts, which, although he has focused on in his speech, were uttered with a skill and a mastery of language and writing that no one in Aerwiar possessed but One.

“And so I leave you with this note,” Kalmar said after enrapturing the crowd in the most lovely speech imaginable to the point. “That although no one is less deserving of His Love and Mercy and Grace and Forgiveness than us, He will always give it to us, asking only for obedience in return.”

Thunderous applause mingled with palpable understanding and raw gratefulness filled the room, to the point at which Janner had to cover his ears with his hands to keep from being rendered half-deaf from the wondrous sound. So fixated was he for just a brief moment on the crowd that it wasn’t until he felt someone grab his shoulder and begin shaking him that he realized Kalmar had spotted him and was just…slightly irritated. 

“Janner Wingfeather!” He said, raising his voice as much as he dared in such a public environment. “Where. Have. You. Been?!”

Even though the shaking was well-deserved, Janner was tired of feeling as though his brain was rattling around inside his head after about ten seconds and worked to release himself from his brother’s grip. “I promise, I have a really good reason.”

Kalmar glared at him, but there was a light twinkle in his dark blue eyes that was impossible to miss. “Mhm, sure. I’d just love to hear it, too, but right now, do you want to know what’s important?” 

Janner opened his mouth to reply since he knew the answer, but before the words gained the motivation to actually come out, Kalmar was speaking again.

“Well I’ll tell you. You had a speech to give, I couldn’t find you, Uncle Artham couldn’t find you, the time for the speech came and you were still gone, and I ended up having to give an impromptu speech (that I think came from the Maker?) because I lost the copy of yours that you gave me, and Sara wasn’t here to give me hers!” Kalmar’s hand was planted on his hip by that point, and he was staring very intently, clearly waiting for some sort of response or answer.

“I—” Janner began, fumbling for words. “I promise, I have a good—”

“You said that already!” Kalmar exclaimed, now sounding more exasperated than anything else. “I want to know why you were gone and why you didn’t show up and give your speech. Like, seriously, what were you doing all this time?! And I guess I was a little bit worried about you.”

Janner shook his head a little frustrated with himself, because he really did owe his brother an explanation, but the words weren’t coming like he wanted them to. “I can’t—”

“Janner!” Leeli’s cry of joy interrupted him that time, and when he turned his head in the direction of the sound that had managed to be heard over the orchestra (which was honestly much quieter than it had been earlier). “Where have you been? Kalmar’s been asking everyone all evening to keep an eye out for you.”

Following her were Thorn carrying a very sleepy Helmer, Oskar wriggling and bobbing his way through the crowd of people, his bald head reflecting the light of candles and lanterns, and Galya with both Evnia and Elquinn in tow, the former of whom was actually halfway subdued because of how late it was and the former of whom looked wider awake than he had ever been.

Smiling, Janner hoped he would be able to satisfy her with the short and undetailed answer because he knew he would never be able to actually give her the long one. “I had to do something the Maker asked me to,” he managed to force out.

A moment later, everyone was talking at once: Galya was congratulating Kalmar, Kalmar was blushing and muttering something about how he had no clue how he had managed to give the speech he had while still trying to be irked with Janner, Oskar was talking to Janner and quoting someone whose name sounded like, “Snipen the Schoolmaster,” Thorn was telling Kalmar he had done a “real good job” and asking Janner where he had “been all evenin’,” Evnia was crowing half-heartedly, not because she was disappointed to see him but because she was tired, and Elquinn was reaching for his hand, trying to tug him away and out of the Ballroom, but there was a softness in his blue eyes that told Janner there was more purpose in the action than his own personal dislike for the crowd.

The trouble was that Janner couldn’t answer anyone, because with all the questions and answers zipping through his mind, they were getting twisted together into and jumbled before crashing into little bits and pieces combined with all the commotion in the room.

He wasn’t sure what his face must have looked like, but something must have told them something was wrong, because it was only another minute before he and Kalmar were in the Throne Room just on the other side of the door alone.

There was blissful silence for a minute before Kalmar asked, “Janner, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

Janner worked to put the words together to create a response, but by the time he was able to get out, “I’m fine, something’s just off and I can’t do anything about it,” Kalmar was already saying something and they were speaking at the same time.

Stopping awkwardly in the middle of whatever he was saying, Kal looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean, ‘something’s off’?”

“I mean—” words mixed together and Janner bit his lip in frustration as Kalmar kept looking at him expectantly. “I mean…don’t be mad, please. Well, you’ll be mad but try not to explode.”

Kalmar shook his head. “I don’t know…at this point I’m more worried than anything else. I mean, you’re here for Cerlon’s ceremony and then disappear after talking with Artham, fail to show up for your speech, and now something’s wrong?”

Janner had thought of the follow up to what he said before Kalmar answered him, and that time the response was only delayed a little bit. “The Maker told me to meld with Amrah, and I did it about an hour ago.”

A mixture of horror, panic, and fear washed over Kalmar’s face in a moment, and his eyes went wide with terror. “You did what?”

Janner jammed his hands into his pockets and closed his eyes as he waited for the words to come. “I melded with her,” he whispered. “You heard what you said in your speech, about forgiveness and…and everything. That—” he had planned to continue working to explain after the pause, but Kalmar began speaking instead.

“What are you talking about?!” He demanded, his voice bordering on hysteria. 

Janner felt frustration he didn’t want to feel building up, but involuntarily exhaled the moment he heard the words, “Kalmar, let me try to explain, alright?” He sighed with relief and turned around to smile at his uncle. Thank you, he mouthed. 

Artham spent the next several minutes trying to get Kalmar to understand that Janner had melded with Amrah but wasn’t hurt and was completely alive and not about to drop dead or shrivel up on the spot. Kalmar looked utterly horrified and confused and worried the entire time and tried calming himself by taking his crown off and running his fingers through his hair, but it didn’t seem to help and only resulted in him having very messy curls.

He rubbed his face with his hand and sighed deeply. “And you truly did do it because the Maker asked you to? And you’re really alright?”

Janner nodded without speaking.

“Well, except for that,” Kalmar added, a touch of humor in his voice, before wrapping him in a tight one-armed embrace. “Oh, Janner, I swear, if you ever do that again I will lock you in your room for the rest of your life. Or at least the castle. I might do that anyway. And you owe me so, so much.”

Refraining from chuckling at the attempt at humor because he heard the tears bordering on the edge of Kal's voice, Janner whispered, “Yeah. I know.”

Epilogue

The rest of the week was filled with back-to-back meetings that might not have been so vexing if Janner had been able to convey his thoughts normally. As it was, the delay between the thought to say something and the actual words was still obvious, not so painfully obvious as it had been the first night after the meld, but obvious nonetheless.

They chose not to explain the reason why to anyone, but Lorren (who had apparently danced with Maraly the evening of the Ball) noticed and confronted Janner about it in the kindest manner possible. After he explained in as brief words as possible, Lorren took it upon himself to keep the specific topic on the table of discussion when he saw Janner making an attempt to bring up a point, and his efforts were relatively successful and very much appreciated.

*****

Though that was how their lives as diplomats went on, as a family, certain things changed. They gave Amrah a new name the very evening of the Ball, once everyone had left. When asked to carry out the sacred task, Kalmar nearly did so, but hesitated. 

“Janner,” he said quietly after a moment of everyone in the family looking at him expectantly. “The only reason I gave everyone new names was because…because you were gone. And with every name that came out of my mouth, I had only one thought, ‘Janner would have chosen a better name than this.’ Well, except with Galya,” he added, a wobbly smile trying to cover up the tears that threatened to spill over from the memories.

Fixing his brother in an earnest gaze, Janner did his best to convey the majority of his message through that. “Kal, you did an amazing job. I wouldn’t’ve—”

“But you were the one who melded with everybody,” Kalmar countered, not really interrupting because Janner’s words had paused unexpectedly. “You should have had the honor of naming them, not me. I didn’t do anything. Before you take the time and effort to object, saying something to the effect of, ‘I don’t deserve honor,’ will you please rename Amrah now?”

Smiling, Janner nodded and came over to stand in front of Amrah in Kalmar’s place. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of a name. “Your name is Esmé,” he whispered, opening his eyes and looking straight into her gentle, hazel ones. “And never forget that the Maker loves you and remembers not who you were before, but who you are now.” 

She nodded, pure delight written on her face. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you so much.”

After a slight pause, Janner added, “Would you like to come live in the castle?”

At that her mouth dropped open and she was rendered speechless for several seconds before stammering, “You’ve already done so much. I-I can’t accept that!”

“I insist,” Kalmar inputted, stepping forward, graciously relieving Janner of what might be ready to turn into an out-of-necessity-rapidly-paced-back-and-forth discussion.

In the end, Esmé agreed.

*****

The next day, the Jewels of Anniera opened the Fane of Fire, and Kalmar took the holoré back to where it belonged. Janner and Leeli waited outside as he did so, barely breathing in fear of disturbing the Glorious Stillness that completely consumed the antechamber. 

For Janner, it was not like the past several times they had opened the Fane. Tears welled up in his eyes as he remembered guilt and grief that had filled him before because he had been unwilling to let go of his hatred toward Amrah, and he remembered the total stubbornness and the blind eye he had turned toward the Maker. 

How could I have done that? he cried out in his heart. How could I have borne the pain of standing so near You, yet refusing to heed Your Words and Your Voice? Maker, I am so, so sorry. I don’t deserve the miracle You granted last night. Why would You give such a wondrous gift when…when—

My son, came the thunderously whispering reply. Remember what you have heard many times and remember what you told Esmé just last night. No one is deserving of anything. I give freely. Your obedience is beautiful. Well done.

Janner bowed his head, smiling with delight as tears of joy ran down his cheeks.

*****

Notes:

The name Esmé means "beloved" ^^ (yes, very purposely chosen because Davion was also called "beloved")

And that is the end of the story that was only supposed to be four chapters! That...did not happen. Thank you so much for reading and for keeping Cerlon alive and for commenting!!!!

There will be a week of no posts while I'm working on getting the next story started, and after that daily posting should resume!

Thank you again for reading <3 <3 <3