Through Ages of Weary Fulfillment: Ch. 4

Peace

Notes:

AHHH I'm so sorry! It's been two weeks since I posted 😭

I was visiting my grandparents and didn't really have time for writing or posting, so that's why. But here is Ch. 4, and daily posting should resume now :)

*****

They were close. Janner didn’t exactly have any reasonable way of explaining how he knew they were close, but he knew they were.

Unfortunately he also knew he was ready to collapse and hoped Artham was the only one aware of it as well. 

“Perhaps we should stop and get our bearings?” Nia suggested, bringing them to a halt and dashing Janner’s hopes to pieces. She never would have called a break so soon after the previous one ten minutes earlier.

Of course, he noted dimly, his mind in a fog. Everyone already knows and has known for a while, so why did I want to hide it at all?

“Wonderful idea,” Artham replied, almost too much relief in his voice. Janner wondered if the way he trembled uncontrollably was really as obvious as all that. 

Bending down to whisper in his ear, Janner heard Artham's voice, low and not-piercing, say, “We can stop here or go a few feet more. Which would you rather?”

Janner shook his head. “Here’s…fine,” he mumbled. As soon as he said it, his legs turned to water and he crumpled to the ground, a gasp or two (not his, though) accompanying the motion.

“I'm okay,” he whispered faintly and squeezed his eyes shut, more to block out the dizzyingly vibrant greens of the Blackwood than anything else.

“Janner, please, I need you to open your eyes,” Nia said softly, cupping his face in her hand. When had she gotten there? “Can you do that for me?”

Wondering briefly where the rest of their party had gone—it felt as though he hadn't heard or seen Sara or Leeli or Oskar or Kal…no, wait, Kal dead. He was gone. The others, though. They weren’t “gone,” he supposed, not like Kal. They had just stayed silent for quite a long time—he forced his eyes open, resisting the temptation to shut them again when light and color and spinning foliage and Nia’s worry attacked his mind. 

“Good,” she whispered, a choked sound in her voice. Janner's heart hurt when he heard it. He hadn't made her upset or worried on purpose—he hadn't meant to do that. He closed his eyes, keeping a few tears from trickling down his cheeks. “Artham's finding something for you to eat, alright? I know you don't want to, but please try when he comes back. We're going to camp here for the night, or maybe in a clearing close by, but you will not be doing any more walking. Then when morning comes, we're leaving this place whether we've found the Well or not.”

Janner opened his eyes again at those words and tried convincing them to focus on her face without the image shifting or morphing together or splitting. It didn't work, though. “Mama, wait,” he mumbled. “We're close. I promise.”

He thought Nia shook her head, because only such a movement would make the bleary images of her face rattle in such a manner. “Unless we find it when we're walking to a clearing to set up camp, we are not taking any extra efforts to find it. 

“Leeli, Sara?” She broke off from her original point. “Here's my pack. There's some food in there. Don't prepare anything quite yet, but think about what we could eat.”

There was a rustling, and a brown-haired, stunningly blue-eyed girl drifted into the shifting shapes of his sight. But she didn't shift, not at all. Somehow she was steady, and she looked at him and met his eyes and mouthed, don't worry, we'll find a way.

Janner breathed out shakily and murmured, “Thank you.”

“You can sleep now if you want,” Nia whispered, and Janner felt himself pulled toward her, and then he was curled up against her in a way he hadn’t since he was little, but had wanted for so long. She began humming a low, soothing tune, one he vaguely remembered her singing back in Glipwood anytime one of them was sick. He felt a bit of a tired smile flit onto his face at the sound of it, and as his eyes fluttered shut and he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but think that even though he needed no coaxing, it felt wonderful just the same.

*****

“You weren’t supposed to stay away for so long! What if something had happened?” 

Nia’s hushed but still very much irked voice woke Janner, but it wasn’t quite enough to pull him out of sleep. He didn’t feel like he was about to crumple into bits because of exhaustion as he had earlier, so he supposed that was a good thing. The only drawback of it was that now he had the energy for feeling absolutely mortified and horrified that he had worried Nia so much. The concern and fear in her eyes the last time he had seen her had been palpable, and he vowed to never, ever do something so foolhardy as allowing something like collapsing to happen—in her presence, at least—again.

And then there was Kalmar. Tears filled Janner’s eyes even though he still kept them shut and he brushed away the ones that escaped down his cheeks. He hated this rotten mess of waking up, when he recalled all the horrible happenings of the last few days slowly, each one filling his mind with dread and grief and guilt to the point at which if anything else happened, he didn’t know what he would do.

Artham’s response pulled him away from such thoughts, though. “I left Janner’s sword with Oskar. You know that! Besides, toothy cows and other sorts of vermin don’t venture in this clearing in the Blackwood. I promise, you were safe. Besides, did you really expect us to camp here and possibly freeze to death in the night?”

The word “clearing” confused Janner. When had they moved into a clearing? He supposed they might have moved unbeknownst to him. They must have. It was the only thing that made sense.

“And how would you happen to know toothy cows or horned hounds or dangerous creatures don’t come here?” Nia retorted fiercely, obviously ignoring the latter part of Artham’s explanation.

“Because…because they just can’t! It’s hard to explain. Please, just believe me! There’s…an invisible barrier that keeps them and all sorts of other creatures out.”

Leeli’s voice now danced among his uncle’s and mother’s, lovely and firm, reminding him a bit of Podo. “You know, if you were trying to keep Janner from waking while still arguing, it didn’t work. He’s awake.”

Crickets’ chirps actually flitted through the air in the silence that followed Leeli’s statement.

Janner opened his eyes at the sound of rustles coming toward him and began sitting up on his own, but Artham appeared and helped him the rest of the way, laying him against his chest. “Are you cold?” he asked quietly.

“Not really,” Janner whispered back. It wasn’t the complete truth. His hands and feet and face were absolutely freezing, but other than that he was mostly fine.

“Well, here’s a warmer blanket since I know you’re lying at least a little bit,” —Janner felt a heavy warmth fall over him almost immediately, and it was wonderful. Artham must have gone back to get the cloaks they had left behind. That was what Nia had yelled at him about— “And here’s something for you to eat. I think you’ll like it.”

Janner slipped his hand out from underneath the cloak and felt something warm pressed into his palm. He looked down at it and blinked, a little confused. It looked like any sort of normal fruit—it looked like a silvery plumyum, for that matter— but it was warm. It might have been warm simply because Artham had held it to get it warmer for him, but it wasn’t just a surface warmth. This warmth fused into his hand and up his arm, tingling as it went along. 

He raised the fruit to his mouth (his arm and hand did not tremble as he expected them to) and took a bite, just a small one in case Artham’s guess proved incorrect.

It didn’t.

That one bite flooded his entire being with such sweet warmth, but it wasn’t a tooth-rotting or sickening sweetness, it was a different kind, a lovely kind he couldn’t exactly pinpoint as he had never tasted it elsewhere, but—he closed his eyes briefly, relishing the taste that was one of light and beauty and wonder—oh, in an odd way it reminded him of the Fane of Fire, not the time had sat outside, but the time he had gone inside.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Artham asked him, his eyes twinkling.

Janner nodded, suddenly not feeling as tired anymore. “What is it?” he queried before taking another bite, one that was a bit larger than the first.

“It’s from a fruit tree that I believe is fed constantly by the First Well, or at least the underwater stream that fills it,” Artham replied gently. “The Well…it’s just over that way.” He pointed, and following the direction with his eyes, Janner saw it, still visible in the evening light.

There was a light gasp and an exclamation of words that sounded as though they came from Oskar, but Janner didn’t bother to make them out. He was too focused on Artham’s words and what they implied.

The hand holding the fruit fell listlessly into his lap. He had never meant to benefit from the Water. He had never planned to drink it and receive healing from it. The Maker had returned his spirit to Aerwiar already—wasn’t that enough? Coming to life again because of the Ancient Stones and healing his weakness with the Water from the First Well seemed inconsiderate or ungrateful or wrong. If the Maker had wanted Him physically healed, it would have happened during the meld, wouldn’t it? That had not happened, though. Was even eating the fruit a usurp of the Maker’s decision?

“But—” he replied, realizing there was a good chance he had forgotten to truly reply. He was dimly aware that Artham looked at him expectantly while the rest of their part flitted in the background murmuring things he hadn’t the mental capacity to make out. “Uncle Artham, I can’t just…it’s wrong to…I was never—”

“Shh,” Artham whispered soothingly. “I know. I knew you would refuse to drink the Water. That was evident from when we first talked about it. You mentioned healing Leeli and Anniera and Nia—though I don’t know if the Water can heal a broken heart, since it seems to work in the physical realm, not the spiritual—yet you left out the one most obviously in need of healing: yourself.”

“That’s because,” Janner felt himself floundering. “The Maker already healed me as much as He saw fit. I…I don’t want to usurp His decision.”

Artham smiled at him a little sadly. “I know. I didn’t pick this fruit because it is fed by the Water, though. I picked it because I saw it, because I thought it might strengthen you. I only saw the Well and the Water afterward. My heart did not tell me giving you the fruit was wrong. Did your heart ache when you received it?”

Janner shook his head. “No. It was warm. And perfect. Almost like—” he craned his neck and looked up at the sky, glowing millions of majestic shades. “Almost like the way the Maker’s World felt.”

“Then finish eating it,” Artham said quietly. “I doubt it will fully restore you, but maybe you’ll at least be able to make it back to the original camp tomorrow. Nia refuses to leave tonight.”

Janner glanced over at his mother, sitting silently with Leeli near her, Sara a bit further away (by her own choice, he guessed) and Oskar, his mouth gaping open taking in the wonder of the clearing, unable to write. “I don’t blame her,” he whispered. “But I don’t think worry is the only reason.”

“Oh?” Artham looked at him, curious.

Smiling, Janner stood with much more ease than he had in the past day, even though his frailty had not left and likely never would, at least not fully. “She’s at peace, for a little while,” he said softly. “I can’t bear the thought of taking that away from her.”

*****

Notes:

Was i thinking about the fruit in The Magician's Nephew when I was writing about that silvery plumyum? Maybe.... :)

So. Artham's POV wasn't covered, and I think explaining step-by-step what happened while Janner was sleeping might help clarify things.

1. Artham scouted for someplace to stay for the night. He found the clearing with the fruit tree, picked the fruit for Janner, then found the First Well afterward.

2. He went back to their traveling entourage, led them to the clearing where he knew they would be safe (I mean...the First Well is there. They're safe from nasty creatures), and then left to go get the things they would need to spend the night. He left the fruit with Nia, asking her to give it to Janenr if he woke up in his [Artham's] absence.

3. Artham got their things, came back, and Janner's wakefulness picks up from that point onward :D

Again....canonical errors, please point those out.... :)