Day #6 - Sick Room Guilt
Summary: Lormryn visits Aremu after being guilted into it by Torash.
Written for Runaway Tales and WriYe
Rating: Everyone
Warnings: Terminal Illness, complicated relationship
Universe: The Shadows Within (happens before)
Prompts: RaTs: Avoidance; An apology; Hold my hand; And nobody is perfect / Oh, but everyone's to blame & Oh, you're in my veins / And I cannot get you out; WriYe: Too Much;
Notes: Two for the price of one today!
Even though she knew it was time to finally face things, she lingered. Standing just outside the room, shifting weight from foot to foot, hand hovering over the door, she was a shining example of hesitation and awkwardness. "Get a hold on yourself, idiot," she muttered, steeling her resolve and rapping on the door.
"Enter," a voice called weakly from within.
Stomach tossing she did as told, dragging her feet the entire distance across the room.
She wondered when she had become so wishful as to believe that if she didn't look it wasn't real.
As if avoidance was helping this situation any.
"Hey," Aremu breathed, reaching out to grab her hand. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."
She swallowed thickly. "So was I," she squeezed the hand clasped in her own. "But here I am."
"I'm sorry you had to see me like this, Lormryn. They though I would be better by now," Aremu's sentence dropped off into a coughing fit.
Lormryn's heart clenched at the wet sound, how it rumbled in Aremu's chest, the way it spelled disaster for Aremu's continued well being. She hated this. Hated Aremu being sick. Hated not knowing why, or how to fix it. Hated the uncertainty the clouded her recovery.
Hated that she'd been cajoled into coming by doom saying. "It's okay, all that matters is I'm here now."
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"Aremu's dying," Torash had told her bluntly over lunch earlier that afternoon. "The healers are at a complete loss as to what ails her. All they know for sure is that whatever it is, it's getting worse." He'd reached across and grabbed her hand, a liberty she wouldn't have otherwise allowed. "They're doing everything they possibly can, but it's probably not going to be enough."
She'd looked away, unable to look at him and the pity in his eyes. Unwilling to even contemplate the horrifying, depressing, morbid scenarios popping into her mind. Aremu had to get better, she had to.
He sighed, deep and heavy like no one of his age should, and ran his free hand through his hair. He wasn't old enough for this burden. Neither was she, for that matter. He gave her hand before releasing it, withdrawing back to his meal.
"She asked about you this morning, you know," he said, changing tactics. "She didn't say as much, but she wants to know why you haven't visited since she took ill. She thinks you're still mad about that argument."
Her neck hurt with the force she whipped her head. "What do you know about that?"
"Nothing!" He cried, tossing hands in the air in surrender. "All I know is you guys fought, Aremu was really upset, you stopped coming by, and now she thinks its all her fault and you won't come see her even when she's dying because you're so mad at her."
She flinched at the word 'dying', unable to control the physical reaction to the emotional hurricane it provoked. "It's not her fault, it wasn't ever her fault. She has to know that, I don't blame her, I really don't."
"Maybe you should tell her that?" He said, eyes trained on the food he was pushing around on his plate, tone surprisingly sad.
It wasn't courage that made her speak, it was the depletion of strength, the inability to hide anymore. "I can't watch her die, Torash, I can't. It's more than I can bear." The words were quiet and her voice cracked in the middle, testament to tears she couldn't shed.
"Blood or no, you're her sister," he said quietly. "I know it isn't easy, but you have to see her. For her sake if nothing else. She's not going to pull through this without us." He looked up at her now, fixing her with a firm gaze, fire in his eyes. "All of us."
"Torash..."
"No buts Lormryn, go see her. Today. Stop being selfish. She needs you. Suck it up and visit." With those parting words on wisdom, he abandoned the rest of his meal and left.
She stayed long after her food had gone cold, wondering when she had become a selfish coward.
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Aremu looked worse than Lormryn had feared. Death clung to her like a second skin, clearly visible in the way her clothes hung off her frame, felt in trembling fingers, heard in the rasp of her breathing and the hoarseness of her voice.
It took every ounce of strength Lormryn possessed to look into those sunken, somewhat fuzzy eyes.
"I know," Aremu said, "I look horrible. Thanks for reminding me."
If her tone hadn't been sarcastic, Lormryn would have been mortified. As it was, she settled for guilty and depressed.
"That's where you're supposed to deny it, Lormryn, get with the program."
Lormryn laughed caustically, willingly the wetness behind her eyes away. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm not too cheerful today."
Aremu's gaze was stormy, emotions swirling around that Lormryn didn't even want to begin to contemplate. Things were too complicated, too fragile. They couldn't. Not now, possibly not ever.
Definitely not ever.
Her heart clenched again and she looked away.
"It's not your fault, you know," she said after a moment, praying her voice sounded steadier than it did to her own ears.
She didn't need to specify, what else could they be talking about?
"I know," Aremu whispered. "But it doesn't make me feel any less guilty for hurting you."
Lormryn flinched. "You didn't do it on purpose, that's all that matters."
Aremu opened her mouth to say something, but burst into another coughing fit. Lormryn scrambled to pour her some more water. Aremu accepted it gratefully, held it in shaking hands, drank like a parched man in the desert.
Lormryn could do nothing but watch.
"They don't know what's wrong with me," Aremu said after a long moment, still clutching the half-full glass. "I'm probably not going to make it."
Lormryn flinched again at the illusion. "You shouldn't reference your own death so casually."
"I'm sorry," Aremu whispered. "I know this is hard for you and I really don't want to hurt you any more than I already have." She looked away, at the drape covered window. "I know I'm selfish for wishing you here, even though it brings you pain to be at my side. But I can't help it, you're all I've got now."
Lormryn grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly, even though she knew she probably shouldn't. "Don't think like that, Aremu. I'm the one who's been selfish. I should have come by sooner. Should have been here every day. It doesn't matter what I think, or I feel. You're sick, I should be thinking of you, not about me."
Aremu started to protest, but Lormryn cut her off with vigor. "No, let me shoulder the blame, for it is mine by right. You're not strong enough to bear it anyway. You need to focus on getting better, not worrying about me."
Aremu laughed, the sound foreign in the sick room because of its genuine warmth. "I'm dying, you're heartbroken, and we're both fighting over whose fault it is. Aren't we a pair of idiots?"
Lormryn couldn't help it, she let the laughter overtake her. It felt hollow, to laugh at their misery; and yet, it was also a balm to her troubled soul.
She didn't realize she'd started to cry until the tears splashed down into her lap. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally..." She trailed off with another laugh, making a vague gesture. Aremu would understand.
Indeed she did, her eyes were bright even covered with a sheen of tears, black irises no longer distracting as they once had been. A tear slipped from its confinement down her cheek, but her smile was radiant and her eyes sparkled with a light that danced merrily. "You, Lormryn Weyldsam, are always sentimental, no matter how hard you argue to the contrary."
"I am not!" The protest was out of her mouth before she could think, but even she knew it was a token one at best.
Aremu just smiled again, in her knowing way that always annoyed Lormryn to death.
"Yeah, you are."
This story is copyright Saya Dix (me) and cannot be republished/posted without my permission.