Standing Steady in the Storms Ch. 30-31

The Comfort of a Friend

Notes:

I successfully made a not-emotionally-moved-person almost cry over this chapter at a certain point. If no one cries, that's totally fine (I'm not expecting anyone to, lol) but I'm pleased with the fact, so I'm just throwing it out there^^ lol

*****

“I’m just not sure what to do.” Sara stood at her bedroom window, looking out at the grass that abruptly dropped into a rocky cliff, and changed into a smooth, white sand beach. The waves tossed themselves on shore gracefully, like a dancer. The white foam gathered at their edges and then floated out to sea again. It was beautiful. 

Sara normally had Janner to share it with, but now she did not. The look on his face had sent terror through her, a kind of terror she had not known until yesterday. Maybe it scared her so much because when she had looked into her husband's eyes, she had seen Artham. She had seen Artham the way he had been after the liberation of the Fork! Factory!. She had seen a broken, grieving wildness in Janner's face.

That had been the night before. Nia had comforted her and helped Freva with Evnia and Elquinn, only leaving to make sure the castle guards had properly stashed Polkerstead away in the dungeon for them to deal with later. After Freva left, Nia stayed with Sara all night long. 

Now Galya had come over. Sara found herself talking more than she liked about thoughts and words that scared her, thoughts that she couldn’t bear to say to anyone else.

“Janner was alright for a few days, he really was. He was pretty much normal,” Sara said softly, reiterating to Galya what had happened.

“How much is pretty much?” Galya asked, gentle inquisitiveness in her tone.

Sara laughed sadly. “Oh, not as normal as I would have liked. He was quieter than usual, but the gentleness and the love was still there. He was so tender with me and with Evnia and Elquinn. He never really told me anything about Kal though. I wish he had, if only for your sake.” She turned and looked into her friend’s tearfilled green eyes. 

“You’re sure that there was nothing? Nothing at all?” Galya asked, her voice breaking. 

Sara shook her head. Janner had said a few things in his sleep, but it was nothing that they did not already know or had guessed. The only thing that had really unsettled her was Janner’s repeptition of the words: “I chased him away.” Galya didn’t need to hear that, though. Sara wondered what it meant. 

Galya nodded understandingly, but looked at her hands in sorrow. 

Sara felt empathy and grief in her heart. She was hurting, but at least Janner was alive. At least she knew he was close. Or, at least she hoped he was close. Galya had no way of seeing Kalmar or knowing he was safe. 

Sara walked towards Galya and took her friend’s hands in hers. “I’m sure Kal is alive. And the sea dragons will be back soon; then Leeli can use her whistleharp to find him. We’ll rescue him from wherever he is, and then you’ll be together again.” 

Galya looked into her eyes and nodded again, but it was a hesitant nod. She wasn’t convinced. Sara smiled sadly. She would not have been convinced either. 

“But since Kalmar isn’t here and Janner is, we can talk about him instead,” Galya said, brushing her tears away and folding her hands practically. Sara knew that Kal was not far from her mind, though, even if she pretended that he was. “What are you going to do? I mean after what happened—”

Sara heard Elquinn crying and walked over to the cradle, bending down carefully to reach him. She sat down carefully on the bed and hummed softly, trying to calm him down. “He’s shut down. He’s not responding to anything, really. Or that’s what Artham said this morning. At the same time, I know Janner is still in him somewhere. But Janner’s buried that part of himself, he’s hidden it from me. In a way it reminds me of something else.” Sara studied her son’s distressed face thoughtfully.

Galya leaned forward. “What?”

Sara smiled. “Well, a little over three months before everyone was restored, Artham came to Dugtown. He and Gammon helped liberate this horrible place called the Fork! Factory!—”

“Two exclamation points?” Galya asked curiously.

Sara laughed a little. “Yes, two. Anyway, soon afterward Artham went crazy. I was with him and so was an old friend of mine, Maraly, and he just went crazy. He kept saying the name ‘Esben’ and telling him to ‘sing the song.’” Gayla nodded understandingly. “You obviously know what he was talking about, but Maraly and I didn’t. We spent the next three months taking care of him and trying to help him.” Sara’s voice quieted slowly, as she thought about what she was saying. How long would Janner be like this? Surely not as long as Artham had been — Artham had lived with his guilt for almost ten years. Janner couldn’t have been struggling with it for much more than a week. 

She could tell that it wasn’t the same as Artham’s madness, though. In his sleep often and occasionally when he was awake, Artham’s speech had been filled with anathemas against his cowardice and failing. He had never really expressed any hatred for himself, though. 

Janner did. He bared his heart while he slept without knowing that he did so. He cursed his selfishness, anger, and weakness. Then he would curse himself as if he was some sort of wild animal with no conscience. 

It scared Sara that thoughts like that were bottled up inside her husband. This was what roiled inside of him right now. He had trapped himself in a place where those horrible and utterly untrue words grew and thrived. “I-I just don’t know what to do,” she said, tears choking her. “I want to help Janner. But I have to know. I have to know how to help.” Sara pulled Elquinn closer for comfort.

“Well, maybe you could ask Artham,” Galya offered. “He might have some good ideas, especially since he knows what Janner’s going through right now.”

“I can’t say that’s an excellent suggestion, but finding Kalmar might be a good idea,” came a voice from the doorway.

Sara jumped a little, accidentally disturbing Elquinn. He began crying, and she hushed him gently. “Artham,” she mock-scolded him. “Be careful. You might wake up the twins.”

Artham grinned boyishly. “Sorry.”

“How long have you been out there?” Galya demanded. She had stood when Artham appeared unexpectedly, and now had her hands planted firmly on her hips.  

“May I?” he gestured toward the room and Sara nodded. Artham stepped inside and looked at both of them. “Nia is with Janner right now, just so you know. I'm only stepping out for a minute. And I've been listening long enough to hear that you to help Janner and that you’re using me as your ‘reliable’ source for information. I must say that I’m flattered but,” Artham winked at Sara. “I wasn’t very reliable then. Prone to insanity. You know the issues that can cause.”

Sara laughed, a real laugh from deep down inside of her. “We’re going to have to take our chances, then. Can you think of any tangible ways we can help him?” she asked, looking to him desperately for some sort of answer. 

Artham turned to look at her and closed his eyes thinking for a moment. “I don’t really know. It helped him when he was around you, when he was taking care of the twins. Sara, I think you’re the only one who will be able to pull Janner out of this pit he has buried himself in. But it will take time before he’s even ready or willing to rise.”

Sara looked at him, her blue eyes wide and brimming with tears. “But how long will it take? Artham, I want Janner. I want the Janner I fell in love with years ago, back when I saw him for just a second on Dragon Day. I want the Janner I knew in the Fork! Factory!, the one whose hope and determination shone so brightly in the darkness. And,” she said, tears staining her cheeks as a trembling smile crossed her face. “I want the Janner I married, the Janner who told me he loved me, that he always had and he always would. He told me he would hold me close for the rest of our lives and that if I needed to be rescued, he would be the one to do it.

“Artham, that’s the Janner I want back.” Sara wiped the tears from her cheek. “I want him to walk in here with a picnic basket filled with a blanket, food, and books in one hand and with his sword sheath buckled around his waist. I want to ask him why he has his sword, and I want to hear him respond: ‘Because you might need rescuing. And if you do, I am going to do it to the best of my ability.’

“And I want him to come in here and pick up Evnia and Elquinn and hold them and love them and really see them. I just,” Sara buried her face in her hands. “Artham, I want him ! Maybe that’s selfish, but I do. Artham, I want my husband back with me the way he was before.”

Artham looked at her for a moment and then knelt on one knee in front of her. He placed a hand on her upper arm. “Sara, look me in the eye. Please.” 

She raised her face and fixed him in her blue gaze. Sara longed for Janner’s comfort more than anything in Aerwiar. She had spent over three weeks believing he had been dashed to bits in the storm and that she would never see him again. Now he was back, but she still felt as though the man she loved was gone and had been killed out on the Dark Sea of Darkness.

“Sara, please listen to me,” Artham began. She nodded. “I know you want him to be normal again. I know you want it now. It’s harder when it’s someone you know and love, when you know how they’re supposed to act. It was a bit easier for you when you were taking care of me, because you really didn’t know me. And when I asked you to help me care for Janner, back before we had even docked on the Annieran shore, I knew how difficult it was going to be. I asked you anyway, though, because I know you can do this.

“Yet, it is different than when you looked after me because  you know Janner. You know what you want back and you so desperately feel as though you need it back. It will take time. It will take almost as long as his mind decides it wants to take before he’ll come back all the way. 

“But, darling Sara, I promise that he will. Janner, the Janner whom you know and love, will come back to you. You must be patient, though. Patient and resilient. Never give up on him, even when the pain you are feeling is crushing you. When that happens, run into another’s arms. Go to Nia or Arundelle or Leeli or Galya. Pour your fears out to them. They’ll listen. And I will listen too,” he said, brushing the side of her face in a fatherly manner. “I will always listen.”

“Thank you,” Sara whispered. Artham nodded at her and Galya, then left the room to go to Janner again. 

She looked at the door for a second, then back at Galya. “We’ll find Janner again,” her friend promised. 

Sara brushed a tear from her cheek and smiled at Galya. “We’ll find Kalmar again, too.”

*****

Notes:

Bringing out Galya as an actual character was one of my goals in this story, so I hope she's coming across well^^ I feel like she and Sara would end up being friends, considering that one is married to and the other is in love with one of the Wingfeather boys :D

Three Different Worlds

Notes:

This takes place a day or so (probably 'so') after the previous one. Maybe three days. I'm honestly not really sure, lol.

Also, I had NO IDEA how long I went without talking about Kal! It was actually a really, REALLY long time. But never fear, this chapter does cover him. It is named for the three VERY different perspectives shown in it^^

Also, I should clarify something about Janner's POV. I won't show it a ton of times (since it's unreliable...) but when I do, bold text is the voices, italicized text is a thought, and "quoted text" is actual words spoken aloud. I'm sure most of this has been figured out already, but just in case you're not sure^^

*****

Janner opened his eyes a little. The blackness was impenetrable and the light had no way of getting in. The storm was getting closer by the day, but it had not reached him yet. Sometimes he felt the spray from the icy rain and he always heard the thunder and saw the lightning, but it was not there. The storm could not come near, but so far no on else had either.

Yet he still heard footsteps walking toward him. He squinted, trying to make out the figure before him. Then they began speaking softly. At first, he couldn’t understand the words. But slowly he began to. “ — she’s alright. Galya is with her.” Artham. Artham was talking to him. Artham had gotten into the darkness. He wasn’t supposed to be there, why was he there?

Not answering his question, Artham sighed and squeezed his shoulder. “Janner, you’re going to be alright. What that man said, it wasn’t true.”

Janner winced as the thunder cracked, every fiber of his being screaming at him, telling him those words were some of the most untrue ever spoken in the history of Anniera. What the man had said was true. He hadn’t been able to bring his brother home. He had failed. Uncle Artham, you know you’re wrong, he thought with a hint of bitterness. Please don’t say otherwise.

Artham said nothing more and studied his clasped hands. 

Then there was silence. It was almost as though Artham had left, as if he had gone from the darkness. And if Janner closed his eyes then it looked as though he was gone.

He began thinking of Sara. Artham was worried about her. Janner was worried about her, too. He hated that he was doing this to her. She didn’t deserve it. She deserved someone who had not failed in the goal of his existence. She needed someone she could rely on and depend upon, someone she could trust to actually care for those he loved without screaming at them and driving them off for no— 

Away, stay away from that. Please. He thought as he felt a hard spray of rain wash over him, making his insides twist uncomfortably. Then Artham’s hand was on his head, ruffling his hair like a father was supposed to. Thank you, he whispered, opening his eyes again. His uncle was still there.

“I know where you are, Janner. I understand you. When you need to, call for me. It doesn’t matter when it is or what I’m doing, I’ll drop whatever it is to help you. Understand?”

Grief flooded through Janner’s mind. Oh, how he wanted to say yes! How he wanted to accept his uncle’s offer. How he wanted comfort from someone who understood. 

He couldn’t have it, though. That was selfish. He hadn’t helped Kalmar when he needed comfort, he had chased him away. Afterwards, he had proceeded to wallow in self-pity before even looking for his brother. Because of Janner’s selfishness, — and it turned out that the thing he had fumed over wasn’t even true! — Kal was gone. How dare he take any sort of comfort from anybody, especially someone who understood him?

That’s right, how dare you? Vile thing. The voices curled around Janner’s mind like tendrils of a darker darkness that drowned his thoughts. 

“Janner, do you understand me?" The words came to him like a pinprick of light shining through the rain, but even it was obscured from sight. 

Janner nodded involuntarily, more to placate Artham than submit to him. I need — I need to go now, he thought, pushing himself up into a sitting position. 

The ground lurched underneath him and Janner felt himself stumble. Artham’s arm was around him in an instant. “Careful,” he whispered. 

Thanks, Janner mumbled, pushing his uncle’s arm away. He jammed his hands into his pockets and ran further into the darkness, away from his uncle and the temptation of comfort. The rain and thunder was better. The walls of water and constant rain, — and us, DON'T forget us! — and the voices were his only companions. Those he loved and cared about would not want to be with him, not the him that had chased Kalmar away and then failed to rescue him from a Bat Fang. 

Janner felt himself hit the ground again as he lost his balance. It was a painful fall, and he felt his shoulder slam into something hard. 

That’s right, the voices seeped into his mind like rancid water and Janner clutched at his head, begging them to leave. Oh, stop your feeble efforts! You deserve the guilt, you deserve to be alone, you deserve to hate yourself, and you deserve to have us torment you for the rest of your days, you narcissistic FAILURE.

“I know,” Janner wept, his tears mingling with the rain that hammered his body as the voices and his words and the world and the darkness shook his mind. “I know. It hurts. Stop, please, stop!”

No, they cackled like a flash of lightning. And by asking us to ‘stop,’ you’re only making it worse for yourself. If you just accept us, just believe what we are saying, it will not hurt as badly as it does not.

“Hurts,” Janner whimpered, clawing at the damp surface beneath him. 

Oh, trust us: WE KNOW.

***** 

“Hey, you’re alright. Everything is fine,” Artham murmured reassuringly as he lifted his nephew from where he had fallen to the floor. He held him close for a few minutes, humming softly as Janner flinched and shuddered.  After a little while his scared green eyes drifted shut and Artham laid him back on the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

 “I have you,” he said quietly, gripping Janner’s shoulder. “You’ll be alright.”

A little later, there was a knock at the door. Artham glanced at his nephew for a moment before getting up to answer the knock. He opened it and saw Nia, looking like she was on a mission. A mission that pleased her, in fact.

“Who are you delivering a message for?” Artham asked, bypassing initial questions that one normally asked when answering the door. 

Nia laughed. “Arundelle wants a chance to spend time with you one-on-one and says she hasn’t gotten enough of it in the past month. Freva offered to take care of Asteria and I’m here to take your place for a few hours.”

Artham hesitated. He wanted to spend time with Arundelle, but did Nia really understand what she was agreeing to? She had done it for brief periods of time since Polkerstead had decided to show up and ruin everything, but she sounded very adamant about being there for hours. It was not easy sitting beside a loved one who was unresponsive to anything except for the voices in their head that told them half-truths and lies. “Are you sure? Because I can always stay here.”

Nia planted her hands on her hips. “Artham Wingfeather, go spend time with your wife! I’m doing this for Arundelle, but I’m also doing this for myself. The truth of the matter is that I  would like to spend some time with Janner. He is my son, after all,” her voice broke a little and her eyes showed Artham the grief she held inside of her. 

He nodded. “Of course. I will.” 

“She’s out in the garden,” Nia told him. 

Artham thanked her and began walking away, but not before turning around just one last time. Janner was getting restless again, and for a moment, anxiety twisted in his stomach. Could Nia really handle things the way they needed to be handled? He watched her lean over Janner and run her fingers through his hair. “Don’t worry, darling. Mama’s here. I have you,” Nia whispered softly. 

Artham smiled and turned back towards the stairs. Janner was safe in the arms of his mother, and that was perhaps one of the best places for him.

Artham strolled out of Castle Rysen, aiming for the garden. It was a lovely garden that she tended with Sara, full of every kind of flower, herb, bush, and tree they could find. There were sunbursts, flarestras, bully blossoms, and so many more that Artham could neither remember nor pronounce. 

He caught sight of Arundelle before she noticed him. She was bending over, probably picking one of the blooming flowers. Her golden, wavy hair blew in the wind and rippled down her back like a cascading waterfall, and her skirts billowed this way and that, dancing around her like songbirds. When Arundelle straightened again, she brushed wisps of golden thread that fluttered around her cheeks as butterfly wings back behind her ear. 

Artham felt his pulse quicken slightly at the sight of her and couldn’t believe he had almost refused Nia’s offer.

Arundelle ran toward him and threw her arms around his neck, laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep inside of her, a spring that simply could not bear to be contained any longer. 

“You know, I really wasn’t sure whether Nia could convince you to come or not,” she said, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. 

Artham chuckled. “It took a bit of persuading, I will admit that. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to spend time with you,” he added quickly.

“I know,” Arundelle said softly, tilting her head. “It’s because you worry for Janner. You want to help him. I love that about you, I really do. But please, Artham, don’t bleed yourself dry.”

Artham glanced away for a second, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “You and Asteria need me just as much as anyone else does. In actuality, you need me more. I committed myself to you.”

“I am very glad to hear you say that, because I was getting worried that you were thinking about abandoning us,” Arundelle replied, a twinkle in her eyes. 

Artham heard the mock seriousness in her voice and smiled. “Arundelle Wingfeather, I wouldn’t dare even consider leaving you behind.”

“Don’t forget about Asteria,” she whispered. 

“I would never forget either of you,” Artham said, gentle but firm. “However, you are the one who asked me out on an afternoon date, so I believe you are entitled to a stroll, tea in town, and, of course, a flight.”

Arundelle moved to his right side and slipped her hand into his. Artham relished the feeling of her warm, dainty hand in his, soft like flower petals. He leaned down a little — though not far — and kissed the top of her head. It was going to be a lovely afternoon.

***** 

“Your brother hates you, does he not?” 

Kalmar looked up from his meal and barely remembered to swallow in his haste to speak. “No. Janner doesn’t hate me. At least, I don’t think he does.” His words became a quiet murmur and he looked at his hands in shame.

Amrah clucked her tongue comfortingly. “Dear child, what do his words say? What do his actions say? Look at those to determine what he really feels for you. When life is at its hardest is when our true feelings come to light. It is easy for him to say he loves you and will never leave you when he is whole, but is it so easy to say those same words in his pain? I believe it is when ourselves and others are tested that we learn what lurks in the dark corners of our hearts.”

“Janner doesn’t hate me,” Kal said again, though with less conviction than the first time. His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he had lost his appetite for food. It was always a bad thing if he lost his appetite for food. “May I be excused?” He asked.

“Of course. You needn’t ask, Kalmar Wingfeather. You are the High King, after all.” Amrah’s eyes glittered but they were unreadable. “And you do not answer to anyone. Especially those who hurt you in their anger.”

Kalmar nodded, not trying to agree with her so much as to pacify her for the time being. 

He walked back to his room, shoulders slumped and head down. When he pushed open the door, Kalmar immediately saw his sketchbook, lying open where he had left it. He pulled the chair out and sat down, beginning to sketch an image from his mind. 

Amrah used every meal to convince him that Janner did not love him, that Janner hated him, that Janner wanted nothing to do with him. The scariest thing was that a part of him believed it, even though he did not want to. While sketching he thought of how he had killed Galya and Sara, while eating he thought of how Janner hated him, and while sleeping he thought of his longing for his brother. 

Kal picked up a tortillion and began rubbing some of the darker charcoal markings into gray blurs. Why couldn’t he blot out what he had done, why couldn’t he make it fade like the hard edges of the drawing before him? Kal just wanted life to be the way it had been for years. Still, the fact remained that it was not. A tumult had risen once again. It was not on the same scale as Gnag’s invasion, but it was a tumult nonetheless. Once again, the Wingfeathers were right at the center of it. 

Amrah wanted Kalmar, and he knew that she wanted Janner too. She had not expressed any interest in the other members of their family, but simply desiring two of them was enough to make blood boil. 

Kalmar added a few finishing touches to his sketch and looked at it. It was a picture of him and Janner, when they were on the island. Janner was holding him, and Kal was crying. As he looked at it, a teardrop dripped onto the paper, darkening the charcoal and mingling with the other tears he had drawn.

Kal flipped through the images he had drawn, most of them picturing either himself and his brother or Galya.

Galya with her hair blowing in the sea breeze, Galya with ribbons of burning fire caressing her cheeks in the sunset, Galya with laughing green eyes and an untroubled smile, Galya with her eyes fixated in concentration on her sketch of the shining hills of Anniera. 

She was gone, though. She was gone and she was never coming back. Galya was dead. The amazing young woman he had longed to propose to was somewhere at the bottom of the Dark Sea of Darkness, where no one would see her beauty, both in body and in spirit.  

The two people he loved most in all of Aerwiar were Galya and Janner. If Galya was dead, how could he afford to hate his brother and lose the one person in the world who loved him so unconditionally that he was willing to die for him?

*****

Notes:

I'm wondering the same thing that Kal is. Why does it seem like crazy things always happen to their family?

Answer: because writers like to make crazy things happen to their family.

Next chapter...tomorrow afternoon? I'll be at church in the morning, so I won't get a chance to post until then^^