1865-08-31: You Have To Carry That Weight A Long Time
Players:
Raelyn  

Quietly, Raelyn entered the home the Cassomir's were staying in during their time in Four Corners. She did not want to either be noticed, or disturbed. And as she moved through the house, both avoiding the servants and the extra persons that the Princess had brought with her she found herself wondering if this was what Emilia felt, when her sister so often crept off alone to go into seclusion.

She reached her door, opened, slipped inside, and closed it carefully, quietly. She did not light the room, but rather waited until her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. She was familiar with the room's layout for the most part and she went to the window, cracked it open without opening the curtains and leaving no silouette for anyone upon the street to see her by.

The sigh that escaped her lungs felt weighted. Heavy, with burden. She put her hands to her face.

What was happening? So many memories. So many unpleasant, unwanted, horrible memories being dreged to the surface.

She'd almost killed Dacian Romante where he stood, when she'd seen him in the hall. She'd wanted to. The knowledge that the Thorn was still alive, or at the very least the remnants of it if not the man galled her. Stoked a fire in her that she'd long since quelled. Coming face to face with one who'd tried to kill her people, her Huntresses, destroy her family even as it was already falling … it was too much to her to face in that single moment.

She was glad, of course, she didn't. That her will overrode her desire, and practicality won the day.

Her hand slowly pulled down, her eyes stay closed. The memories, of their own accord, were resurfacing. Reliving the moments of pain. Of finding out that half her family was dead in a single moment. That Emilia might die. Her world had been upended, and she'd not been there.

It was something she'd come to terms with, long ago. Accepted as not her fault. By the emotions of that one singular memory welled up in her now, with what Letholdus had said. What he, clearly, was going through even if she didn't know the particulars. He couldn't save them either. Clara? Whoever was. And his mother?

She felt the pang of empathy for Letholdus. She -knew- what he was going through. She'd gone through it. Henric, had gone through it. Too late, to save them.

And then there was Alessa.

A lovely young woman. Betrothed to her brother. An Aequorian. To bring peace.

Raelyn liked Alessa, she had to admit. She had a warm quality about her person. But? She knew that road was filled with difficulty. And it would be yet more burden for her, her brothers, for Emilia to bear.

How much weight can one carry, before one breaks?

Everything was moving too fast. Too suddenly. She felt dizzy. Out of the loop. As if she were standing still and the world was whizzing past her and her eyes were too slow to make sense of any of it amongst the blurred images.

She felt her hands grasping the window sill, tightly. Her fingers began to ache, from gripping too hard.

She'd gone to the tavern, to relax. To ease her burdens. Drink some wine, and maybe listen to a song or two if a bard was in the room. But Letholdus was there. And in pain. Clearly, in pain.

And how easily she slipped into the role. How fluidly, how perfectly. Setting her own concerns and desires aside, to aid a friend. A friend who would have been with her, holding her in his arms, dancing with her, kissing her — if their Houses had not been so close, already.

Her fancy for him had been a passing thing, but his answer at least showed insight. Gave her closure. For that, she was grateful, even if now her mind couldn't help but go to that secret 'What If' place.

And she'd spent the night protecting him, as if he were one of her brothers, or Emilia. And she did. And for that, she was grateful. He -was- her friend. And she -did- care about him.

Slowly, her hands released the window sill. She closed the window, and let out another sigh. Another heavy, weighted sigh.

It gave her no release. No ease of her burdens, of the endless chaotic jumps her thoughts were leading her through, back, and forth. One thought pattern lead to the next, and back again. And she coudn't stop it.

And she sank onto her knees, before the bed. Laid her forehead on it. Grippd the sheets, tightly. Her mouth worked, almost unconsciously, speaking her thoughts aloud. "How much more?" Her eyes squeezed more tightly shut. Her mind finished off the rest. How much more could she burden, before she broke?

I am the base of the pillar, she thought. Because no one else can be. Because I have to be. Because they need me to be.

And on the trail of that thought: But even the base of the pillar can only bear so much weight. And, on the trail of that thought: But I will do you proud, Mother.

Her eyes opened, and she swallowed, dryly. Breathed a few more times, and gave herself up to prayer, to the One, before the weariness overtook her, and sleep overcame her.

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