The Maiden's Song
Notes:
If this chapter has a TWatWK "What Leeli Felt"/"What Kalmar Saw"/"What Janner Heard" feel, that was the goal^^
*****
“Hollish Clansmen and Clanswomen, thank you for joining us today for this meeting of the clans and Anniera,” Guildmaster Clout — in addition to that, the Keeper of Ban Rona — addressed everyone at the meeting.
All the men and women cheered loudly, and many banged their fists on the long, wooden table, causing it to tremble and send showers of dust onto the green grass of the field below it. Leeli, who sat calmly on one side of the table, mentally reciting everything she needed to discuss, blinked and stifled a sneeze as the dust flew everywhere.
“We don’t hold these often, but when we do, we make sure to cover every little ounce of business so we only have to do it once a year,” Clout continued jovially.
“I second that!” shouted loud a voice that Leeli knew well. In spite of her fear, she smiled at Olumphia, Nia’s childhood friend.
Clout turned to look at her with a grin spread across his face. They had finally decided to marry a few months after the Battle of Ban Rona, and were much happier because of it.
“With that in mind, I’m only doing this bit of introduction and planning on leaving the formalities to Lady Leeli, Song Maiden of the Shining Isle of Anniera.” Once again, loud cheers erupted, but this time Leeli felt a brief hesitation in them. She knew what everyone wanted to know: where was Janner? They all knew Kalmar was missing and that it had caused some turmoil, but they had expected the Throne Warden to attend the meeting.
Instead of dwelling on it though, Leeli pushed back her seat a little so she could stand. She was slighter than almost every person at the meeting and her voice certainly did not carry as far as Clout’s. “Hollowfolk,” she began. “We are here to— ” then she paused. She felt a tug on her dress and saw Thorn out of the corner of her eye mouthing what she assumed to be: “you can do it, Leeli.”
She nodded and continued. “We are here to discuss trade, commerce, finances, troops, education, citizenry, and general life in our respective Clans. I motion that Ban Rona begins because—” Leeli’s eyes drifted toward the sky, and what she saw there made her stop mid-sentence.
She felt another tug on her dress but ignored it this time, instead picking her way out from the twisted maze of table and chairs.
“Leeli!” Thorn hissed. “Leeli, whatcha doin’? The meetin’s happenin’ right now!”
Still staring at the sky, Leeli reached her hand behind her back to make sure her whistleharp was still there and murmured: “This is more important right now than any meeting.”
Then she broke off into a run, racing toward the shores of the Dark Sea of Darkness.
Leeli ran as fast as she could, legs hitting the ground in time with her heart pounding in hope and fear at what was about to happen. Oh, Maker, she prayed. It never works when they’re gone and sometimes it doesn’t even work when they’re here. But, please, let it work now.
“Let me reach my brothers,” she whispered as a tear trickled down her cheek.
A scarlet arrow flew above her, sometimes glinting gold and orange in the sunlight. She flew gracefully, twisting this way and that — and Leeli knew she was there for this very purpose.
"Hulwen!" She cried out, yelling as loudly as she could. "Hulwen!"
Leeli felt the slippery sand beneath her feet and craned her neck upward, watching her friend as she glided through the sky. She slipped her case off her back and slid her whistleharp out of it, feeling the cold silver beneath her hands. The case fell to the ground and sent up a little spray of sand, but Leeli didn’t notice. She stepped into the water and felt it lapping cool and smooth about her ankles. The skirts of her dress dampened, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding Kalmar.
My friend, what is the matter? Hulwen's sweet yet powerful voice spoke in Leeli's mind as she drew closer.
"It’s a little hard to explain," Leeli said. “But Janner is in Anniera. Kal is missing. Janner thinks it's his fault and he either can't or won't tell us what happened."
I understand. Find your missing brother, young one, Hulwen whispered. Perhaps both he and Janner will return home.
Leeli furrowed her brow slightly, not sure if she really understood what Hulwen was saying. But she rose her whistleharp to her lips, hovered her fingers lightly over the strings, and began to play.
Rich, majestic music poured forth from the little instrument. Leeli knew not what the song was, but she felt its radiance and glory with every fiber of her being. Her brothers slowly filtered into the song. It took longer than it had in the past, since they were both far away. Janner still came first, though, and Artham followed. Leeli felt peace and love radiating from him and only had a second to be puzzled, because in the next, she felt Kalmar. And by the change in Janner, one of fear, uncertainty, and then wavering peace again, she knew he had noticed him as well.
Tell him, she felt Janner say to her. He could not communicate with Kal in the same way she could. Please, Leeli, I'm begging you: find some way to tell him.
*****
Kalmar was drawing in his room at his desk when his mind shifted and sparkled with a glorious light. His heart leapt in wonder and joy, for he knew what was happening. The dragons had returned home — No, not home. She’s in the Green Hollows, he relized as the shoreline behind her came into view. Leeli fluttered into his vision as light as a hummingbird.
She stood in the Sea, silver whistleharp pressed to her lips and eyes closer in happiness and wonder. Something came forth from the image, a message. It was not a message made of words or thoughts, but of pictures. Those pictures told him something so wonderful he hardly dared to believe them. They told him that Galya was alive. He saw her, standing a little ways away next to Arundelle, holding an infant. That Sara was alive and well and safe. That his — he wasn't sure if he had a niece or nephew, but whoever they were was alive as well. Kal hardly dared believe it.
Another image painted itself on the canvas of his mind, this of two Throne Wardens. One — Artham — knelt on the floor of someplace in Castle Rysen. Someone leaned against his chest, and it took another moment before the picture placed another few brush strokes so he could see. When he did, though, his heart ached with grief and confusion.
It was Janner. Limp, exhausted, far too skinny, and worn. Kalmar didn't know what his brother had gone through during the past four weeks, but it had come so close to breaking him.
The only thing alive were his eyes. His eyes shone with joy and peace, and Kal knew Janner could hear every unvoiced word in his mind, every rustle of his body in the room, every lap of the waves on the shore where Leeli stood.
'M sorry, Janner whispered through pictures. Kal saw Janner's guilt and grief and self-loathing in ways so terrible he did not want to think about them. He saw the four days of searching on the raft. He saw the week of semi-happiness followed by utter sorrow and destruction. He saw the swirling vortex that tried to strip his brother's mind away. Then he saw Sara, reaching for Janner's hand to bring him home.
Even though Janner looked as though he was too tired to move, Kalmar saw love radiating from his eyes. It was the unconditional love he had desperately clung to for all this time. There had been times when he had doubted it, when Amrah’s lies and words had snuck into his mind and twisted his thinking. That was the case no longer. Janner loved him. Janner had forgiven him, long ago, it seemed. The fury that had been so painful on the island really was just an outlash from grief. It was not the truth. Kalmar rejoiced in that and lifted his eyes, thanking the Maker for His goodness.
*****
When Janner heard the music, true peace flowed through him, one note, one tendril at a time. The melody wove in and around and through his mind and heart, filling him with contentment and tranquility. He heard Leeli as her feet shifted on the sandy beach, the grains of sand slipping around her shoes. The waves slid onto shore but did not crash into the rocks, they caressed them gently, frothing and bubbling happily.
The music reached farther and flew through the air, twisting around forests and over hills, across snow and into darkness. Janner shivered at the memory of darkness but pressed on, desperate to find his brother.
Then he heard Kal, his bare feet walking across plush carpet with an odd swishing noise, a quill of some sort twirling in between his fingers.
Janner only saw blurry colors and shapes instead of true images, but he knew what he was seeing. He was seeing his brother. The brother he had chased away.
But Janner, My son, did you not try to rescue him?
Janner smiled and closed his eyes for a moment. The Maker had brought him the words of comfort and knew that he had tried. He had tried to right his wrong.
"'M sorry," he murmured, not sure if Kal would understand or not.
He received no response for a minute. And spoke again, this time in a scared whisper. "I know I don't d'serve 'nything 'cept you're hatr'd."
Janner was met with more silence. Despite the relief Artham and Sara and Leeli's music provided, he felt his heart and mind trembling. Sara squeezed his hand gently.
Then Kal began speaking aloud. "Janner, I don't hate you. I never did. I love you. I always have and I always will." Janner felt a comforting wave of love and fulfillment wash over him. Somehow, someway, his brother didn't hate him.
Just then, sliding into the wave of the relief, a question floated into Janner's mind. Where are you? Leeli must have tried to find out where Kalmar was.
A second later, the connection faltered. He heard Leeli gasp in surprise, but she continued to play. And after a minute, Janner started in surprise, too.
It was because of the words that came to his ears. Someone else was with Kalmar. A woman whose voice Janner didn't when recognize said things like "dinner is soon," and "how is your sketching coming?" and "why do you still even care about him?"
Janner knew the venom was directed at him, but he moved away from it. There were more important things to focus on. Where are you? Janner asked quietly, not wanting to risk the other person hearing. Kal didn't respond to him, though.
“Will you be locking my room again tonight?” Kalmar asked the woman.
She laughed trilly in a way that grated Janner’s nerves. “Why, Kalmar, you have been here for a while and you know the answer is ‘yes.’ I can’t lose the High King of Anniera, can I?”
“Right, right,” Kal replied, a nervous chuckle in his voice. Janner heard the woman’s footsteps as she left the room and shut the door.
The vision was beginning to fade, and what he had been able to see of his brother, which was not much more than a blob of burry colors, drifted out of sight. He heard nothing more from Kal, either because he had not registered the question or because the connection was failing.
That didn’t matter, though. What did matter was that his brother was being held captive somewhere by somebody who knew who he was and was trying to get something out of him.
"K'lmar needs to be r'scued," he whispered. Even as he lay in the middle of the upstairs hallway, his head on his uncle's lap, his hand caressed by his darling Sara, he felt his Throne Warden blood burning fiercely, ready to rescue his king. He tried to push himself into a standing position, but didn't get much farther than a foot off the ground before dizziness began rushing through his mind.
"I know he does," Artham replied, holding him supportingly. Janner blinked as the vision of his brother completely faded out of hearing. "And you will be the one to do it. But you need sleep, Janner."
"Sleep and food and water and love," Sara said tenderly as she cupped Janner's head in her hand. "Rest. Then, I will go with you to the end of Aerwiar to rescue him. But you need to rest first.”
Janner nodded and felt real, natural sleep taking over his mind and body. As his eyelids drifted shut, he heard the words: "Janner, thank you for coming home."
And for the first time in weeks, he fell asleep with peace in his mind, a smile on his face, and love in his heart.
*****
Notes:
<3 <3 <3
And now Kal knows he didn't kill everyone^^
BUT he doesn't know that Janner and Sara had twins :DDD
And I know I'm going to get feedback regarding Leeli conversing with Hulwen, but if I remember correctly, Peterson was a bit unclear as to who could talk with the dragons. Initially it was just Throne Wardens, but then Gnag was able to talk with Yurgen, even though he wasn't first born. And I think Leeli may have talked with Hulwen in TWatWK. So that's where I'm getting my information from. It seems like by the end of the series, it had come to be that all direct-descendent Wingfeathers can talk with the Dragons.
Hiding Knowledge from the Enemy
Notes:
Just another check on Leeli and Kal^^
*****
As the connection faded, Leeli lowered her whistleharp. She smiled at Hulwen. “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling tears on her cheeks. Kalmar was alive — really, truely, without a shadow of a doubt, alive. And so was Janner. They had both come back to her, tightening ties that were so strong nothing in Aerwiar could break them.
You are welcome, young one, Hulwen said kindly. You will want to return to Anniera now, yes?
Leeli felt her cheeks grow warm as she realized she was not in Anniera, but in the Green Hollows. That she had run off in the middle of the most important and only meeting between the Hollish and Annierans that would occur that year.
She turned around slowly and saw exactly what she had expected to: every Hollish Clansman and Woman was standing along the shoreline, totally motionless, with their mouths hanging open.
Leeli found herself shrinking in embarrassment until one figure from the crowd moved and ran towards her in leaps and bounds. “Leeli!” he cried. “Leeli, that was amazin’!” Thorn didn’t even bother stopping at the shoreline, he ran straight into the water and hugged her.
Leeli started a bit — she had not expected to feel Thorn’s arms around her neck — but responded with a half-hug, since one hand was still holding her whistleharp. When he pulled away, there was a ridiculous smile on his face as he turned to talk to the Hollish people. “Everyone, ya just watched the Song Maiden of the Shinin’ Isle at her finest. I tell you, thet was the most amazin’ thin’ I’ve ever seen in my whole life! Well,” Thorn turned and grinned at her. “It was pretty cool watchin’ ya fight those Bat Fangs with your music.” Leeli put her hand over her mouth to cover the smile that was threatening to slip past her cheeks. “Now, Leeli has some thin’s she needs ta do at home. An’ I think it’s only right if we put a big pause on the meetin’, ‘cause if I’m not wrong, one of her brothers jest came home an’ I think she’s itchin’ ta see ‘im.”
He looked at Leeli for confirmation and she nodded, wondering how on earth Thorn had guessed that the song had brought Janner back. Thorn knew about their connection, but how had he realized it would help jolt Janner back into reality? Perhaps there were more thoughts happening in his brain than anyone else realized.
They were silent for a little longer until Clout finally spoke for the crowd. “I have no objection. Does anyone else?”
There were no mutters of disagreement from them, but as much as Leeli wanted to go home and see Janner, she felt as though she needed to wait. “Thank you, everyone — especially you Thorn,” she added, causing him to beam with pride. “But you’ve all come here from your clans and I think you deserve to have something to show for it.”
There were murmurs of surprise throughout the crowd, but, once again, no one objected. However, they now looked at Leeli with an air of deeper respect than they had before. When she turned to face Thorn, though, there was a puzzled expression on his face.
“Why’d’ya pass up a chance to go home, Leeli?” he asked her, furrowing his brow in an effort to come up with an answer.
Leeli took his hand and smiled at him. “Because,” she said as they walked out of the water and onto the shore. “It wouldn’t be right to make the Hollowsfolk wait.”
A wise decision, my friend, Hulwen whispered. I will wait for you.
Leeli turned and mouthed: Thank you , to her. Then she looked back at Thorn. “Not only that, but Janner and Sara will want some time alone together. And, of course, I also want time with you,” she added. Thorn grinned.
*****
Kalmar picked at his food the next evening at supper. If it were a normal evening — strange that eating dinner with a Stone Keeper seems normal now. I really need to get out of here — his mouth would have been watering at the sight of the seasoned and roasted henmeat, the salted and simmered totatoes, and the baked and buttered bread. But not that night. That night he was thinking about what had the happened the day before. He was thinking about Anniera and his family, about how relieved he was that Janner really didn’t hate him, about the weight that had been lifted off his shoulders the moment he saw that Galya and Sara were alive. He hadn’t killed them. They were alive and healthy and happy. Galya is alive, was the thought that raced through his mind over and over again, and Kal loved it with a new passion each time it came to him.
“Kalmar, you seem...distracted tonight. Distant, even. What is on your mind?” Amrah asked him before taking a sip from her goblet. She seemed genuinely curious, as if she truly did not know what he was so absorbed with.
“Oh, uh, nothing much,” Kal smiled at her, trying to conceal his nervousness. “Just the picture I’m working on right now. Mostly the shading and coloring and such, you know how it is.”
Amrah raised an eyebrow but went back to eating her food without questioning him further.
Kalmar breathed a mental sigh of relief as he fidgeted with the cloth napkin on his lap. Amrah clearly aimed to keep him in Castle Throg for who-knew-how-long, and if she was determined to, she would do it. With the rate at which she, or a Fang, locked his bedroom door, Amrah was very determined indeed.
Which means that I need to stay obscure, Kal thought. Huh, Janner would be proud that I used such a big word. The thought brought an unexpected smile to his face, which put a look of suspicion on Amrah’s. “I just figured out how I need to blend the colors,” he said quickly, taking a bite of the food. It really was delicious that night.
One way of keeping Amrah from realizing that something had changed was by continuing to do things the way he had the whole time. For example, not eating would probably clue her in to the fact that something was up. Of course, the question is whether or not she even knows the Janner, Leeli, and I can even do this whole...connection thing, Kal mused as he popped a salted totato into his mouth.
After a few minutes of dedicated eating — which really wasn’t all that difficult to accomplish — Kal wiped his mouth politely with his napkin and asked to be excused.
Amrah nodded and Kal pushed away from the table, stood up, and began walking towards his room.
“Oh, one thing, Kalmar,” Amrah said just as he reached the door jam. Kal felt his heart leap into his throat. What if she knew? “Tomorrow afternoon, I’m going to be…away for a few days. Your room will stay locked, but at every meal time, you will be provided with food.” She smiled at him and Kal returned the look. It certainly wasn’t what was happening on the inside — inside, he was wondering where in Aerwiar Amrah would be when she was gone — but it was what she needed to think was happening. “It’s a very important errand, and by the time I get back, my plans will begin moving forward once again.” A glint of wicked pleasure shone in her eyes, and Kal felt sick with dread. He nodded and turned away, walking back to his room as quickly as he could.
When Kal slipped in through the door, he shut it and leaned against it, closing his eyes and breathing out the huge sigh of relief and worry that had accumulated over dinner. He slid down it to sit on the floor. Amrah was leaving, that was a good thing. Amrah clearly didn’t know, that was also a good thing. Amrah was about to do something that would continue what she had started when she kidnapped him. The thing that she said would “pit brother against brother, High King against Throne Warden.” That was a bad thing.
What was Amrah about to do? Go to Anniera and kidnap Janner? That wouldn’t work. For one thing, everyone would see her coming. The land was at peace, but Artham — who was the head of the Army of the Shining Isle — had made sure to put together protectors and fighters. Not all of the Fangs had chosen to be healed.
Kalmar laughed bitterly at the thought. “Of course they didn’t.” Coupled with the fact that there was a group of Fangs running and flying around (he had only seen Grey and Bat Fangs, no Green Fangs) him at all times was the fact that Janner had literally died to redeem the Fangs and Cloven.
In the months following Janner’s revival, Kal hadn’t been able to think about it without nearly bursting into tears. Now, though, he only felt great sorrow. His brother had, of course, come back. But the days preceding it? Those were days of grief, fear, and even anger he knew he would never forget.
But that’s not important, Kalmar told himself. Janner is alive. Now back to what Amrah’s trying to do.
Another reason why the (presumed) plan to kidnap Janner wouldn’t work was because he looked like a light breeze would blow him over. Kal didn’t even know if his brother could stand up on his own, let alone survive being kidnapped, dragged by a Bat Fang for two days, and being flown up a freezing cold mountain into Castle Throg. He recalled the image in his mind, the one of Janner, barely able to stay awake and or even lift his head up, and shook his head. What did he do to himself? Did he just not eat the, what, four weeks we were separated? Kal asked himself, counting the days on his fingers just to be sure he was right.
Then he stopped in surprise. Four weeks. Had he really been at Castle Throg for a month? Had he really been away from Galya for almost two?
A real smile of pure joy spread across Kalmar’s face like a good slathering of redberry jam. Galya. Galya was alive! She was alive and well and—
“Oh, no,” he said aloud, a look of horror coming to his eyes. He had spent the past two months thinking Galya was dead and feeling guilty because he thought he had killed her— had she done the same?
Obviously she didn’t think she had killed me, but that’s not the point.
How long had she spent wondering if he was alive? Kalmar groaned and put his face in his hands. “And all I really wanted was the perfect place to propose to her.” He banged his head against the door and looked up at the ceiling.
Kal sighed. Of all the things he had messed up in his life, this was perhaps one of the worst. Next to getting himself Fanged, of course. That was the worst one. Running away from Janner when they were in Dugtown had been pretty bad too, though. And that had led to the Fanging.
“Oh, thank you, my brain, for bringing up such pleasant memories,” he said sarcastically. He allowed himself a minute more to think about what he had done before pushing it aside. Dwelling on his mistakes was pointless. Not because he wasn’t willing to face them but because he already had. He had already contemplated his shortcomings and utter stupidity and repented of it. Kalmar had asked both his family and the Maker for forgiveness long before he had physically been washed clean of his guilt and shame.
And when all was said and done, when he looked back on the person he had been years before, the Fang and then Cloven he had become, the boy he returned to, and the brother of the most sacrificial Throne Warden Anniera had ever known, if anyone ever asked him how he had survived those nine, long months when they were on the run, what had kept him going, he would tell them would tell them it was three little words. They were the words Janner had said to him with his last breath before he gave his life to save those who had failed. “I love you.”
He had conveyed more in those words than he had in hundred others in anything he had ever written or said. Kalmar knew that Janner loved him, despite his mistakes and wrongs and foolishness. He loved him unconditionally. It was something he would tell every person he ever knew for the rest of his life.
“My big brother is my protector, he loves me, and he gave his life so that I might have mine again.”
*****
Notes:
Happy^^
See, I told you there would be some happy thrown in here :D
Okay, my theory regarding Artham being head of the Annieran Army: Normally, the previous Throne Warden would be old and almost dead at the very most, and dead at the very least, when the next King/Queen began ruling. However, Artham is still very much alive and only 41 (give or take a year), by my headcanon. He has to do something, so I took the liberty of deciding that he is the head of it and that he's training Janner (who missed out on 12 years of potential training) to do that someday.
😁