[SE] it wasn't because I didn't know enough

She bows to no one.

Thal sat silently and listened as Maea laid out the story. Although she could see why Maea would feel guilty, she so no reason for blame. How was she to know that danger was befalling her family? Were there signs? She asked as much, in a more blunt and scientific manner, "Did they not have the option to go with you? Did you hear news of their struggles while you were away? How did you know of their passings? Were you able to determine how the monsters got in?" She was trying to keep the conversation clinical, talking out the deaths as a case to be investigated rather than the very real end of five lives.

The presence in the corner continued to remind her the reality of the situation, but it would only make Maea feel worse to coddle her emotions and this being was obviously feeding off that pain. They needed to sterilize and analyze the facts before turning to the underlying admission of guilt and blame. Thal had no current reason to believe Maea was responsible for their suffering. They just needed to prove that there was no way she could have known or stopped the outcome, especially if they could find fault in the actions of her sister-in-law. Turning the tables may be their strongest play.

Thalassa

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

The lack of immediate judgement was welcome, honestly. If they could keep this clinical, Maea might just be able to get through it. Lining up the facts without letting too much emotion get in the way.

It was nearly impossible, of course.

"They could not. There were too many of them. My leaving would make sure they had enough to eat, so they should have been comfortable on the farm."

As for messages - she shook her head. "No messages could reach anyone for the whole LongNight. You don't open the door. You don't go outside. It's too cold, for one, and the monsters... they're everywhere." Dread was a cold weight in her stomach, even now. This Deepfrost to come would be the first she spent in the Grounds since the barrier fell, and she loathed the idea, beyond words.

"I found out what happened after LongNight had passed. I went back home... and found that the barn had been broken open. Some of the sheep were dead, and one of our dogs. Torn to bits... but no one had tended to them. So I went to the house, and the front door was... it had claw marks on the outside, and a hinge had broken. There were blood trails leading... leading outside. So I guess... " Swallowing hard, her voice went hoarse. "I suppose one of the boys must have run outside when the dog was killed. Hieram – it was his first, his very own, that he got to raise from a puppy. He loved that dog. And if he left, my brother would have followed. No way he would leave his son to face the darkness alone. And if he was outside, then Lianna - his wife - would be alone with two terrified children, forced to listen to the others pleading to be let inside. Even though you know they are likely dead - even though Noah would have known better than to knock on the door -"

How could you leave them? How could you, in the midst of fear and panic, in the moment when all goes wrong - how could you not cling to hope? Maybe it really was them. Maybe they made it, maybe everything would go back - if not to normalcy, then at least to a semblance of it?

Maea's eyes burned, but no tears fell. This grief was too deep for them, they froze within and har nowhere left to go. There would never be a day where she didn't miss them, never a moment where she didn't regret leaving.

"I should have been there... I should have died with them." Breathing the words, so riddled with pain, was like driving a dagger into her own chest. Yet she believed them. Believed beyond a doubt that every second spent alive without them was the gravest sin. It was only made worse by the persistent way her heart kept beating, despite everything.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

She bows to no one.

Seeing Maea in such physical pain was difficult to swallow. She wished she could end the suffering, wipe away her guilt, give her peace. But that wasn't something Thal could give her because it wasn't hers to give. The gore of the slaughtered children must have been traumatizing and Thal was sure the images were seared into her mind. There was no erasing those memories. Unfortunately, it sounded like there was also no blame to disperse and no table to turn. It was just a regrettable circumstance with a depressing outcome.

Thal looked at Maea, caving into herself with that haunted look in her eyes, then shifted her attention to the woman in the corner. It had started to take a more recognizable shape, deep-set eyes boring into Maea's back with malice. While staring straight at the figure, Thal asked, "Did they love you?" The rhetorical question was simple, directed for her fellow Ancient. Thal had never been good at comforting people. Her shoulder was stiff and useless for crying on. But she knew how to recognize intentions and start fights. She watched to make sure the specter was paying attention. "They let you leave. They wanted you to live. Although the additional food was an excuse, they knew that even if they couldn't survive, you could. You were the strongest of them with the best chance at living." Each word was enunciated with furvert and her voice had risen. Thal stood and looked down at Maea. Her voice grew low. "Hiding scared in their home wasn't 'living.' Their hope died long before the monster got them. Their dying wish was for you to survive." Leaning forward onto the desk, she brought her face closer. "And you have done more than just survive. You have thrived. You have grown stronger despite your traumas and trials. You have made a place for yourself in this world. You are actively trying to make it a better place for others. You are good."

As the word echoed through the icy chill of the room, Thal straightened, focusing once more on the ghost. A fiery anger colored her next words. "If your family doesn't recognize this and rejoice in all that you have done in their memory, your love for them was exponentially more than their love for you." The challenge stood in the air while the rain continued to pelt the Atheneum, a drone of noise being the only sign that time itself did not freeze.

Thalassa

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

Thalassa's speech made her look up. A frown settled on Maea's pale brow at what the woman said, and anger flared up at the presumtuous conclusions she drew.

"Have a care with what you say!" she snapped, misliking the insulting way the pirate spoke of her family. "You know nothing of what it was like to endure beneath the barrier. Surviving was the only thing any of us could hope for - 'hiding in our homes' as you call it was the only way it could be done! I told you that I left to ease the burden on them; becuse I was the burden! I was the weak one, the one who was not needed - sickly and half blind and of no use to anyone!"

Whether her family had loved her or not was unimportant. They were tied together with stronger bonds than simple love. Honor, loyalty, duty - life and death necessity; it was not the kind of thing one slapped such an easy word as 'love' on.

As for thriving... Maea's face twisted in a grimace that rejected the notion. "Is that what it looks like to you? Like I'm thriving? Appearances really are deceiving." Biting her teeth together so hard that muscles shifted in her jaw, Maea turned her back on the ghost and its chilly aura; and missed the way it lifted it's arms in an exasperated gesture, speaking hasty silent words that couldn't be heard. Anger stemming from frustration when it wouldn't be acknowledged.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

She bows to no one.

Maea's outburst only served to heighten her anger. "Have you heard a word I've said?!" She slammed her hands on the desk in frustration. "Appearances really are deceiving," Thal threw the words back at her, "because I didn't think you were still a frail, scared little girl who takes the easy way out." Her eyes narrowed in pointed accusation as she leaned forward, speaking in a lethal voice. "If they thought you a burden, too weak to survive, they would have sacrificed you to the monsters the day you were born. If you truly believe yourself to be that feeble person, you are indeed not the intelligent person I thought you to be." The pause was poignant with intentional insult. If Maea thought she was - and is - a weak person, all the belief that Thal had in her was sorely misplaced.

Grinding her teeth and baring her fangs, Thal continued her tirade. "If appearances really are deceiving, why can't you acknowledge that your family saw more in you than just a fragile and broken body? If you truly knew them and their hearts, why are you so blind to the love and affection they obviously had - and still have - for you?" She pointed to the simmering figure in the corner. "Do you think she came here to guilt you into depression? Or to prevent you from ever finding joy? Because I don't think that's the case." Maea appeared to think that Thal had just wandered through a field of daisies to get here, unable to see the months of struggling she did to learn the world while protecting herself from its dangers alone. "I may not have grown up here but I sure as hell know that cowering - whether it's your only choice or not - is no life, just like your family knew it, just like she knew it." Her pointed hand shook in rage. An overwhelming desire to slap the Ancient consumed her thoughts. "Despite your supportive family, you're so delusional about your own capabilities! You're limited by your own perception. What do you hope to achieve by discrediting yourself? You insult every person who has ever put their trust and faith in you - especially your family - by pretending that you are powerless!"

Thal took a rattling breath and gripped the desk's edge, feeling the wood beneath her fingernails. Her body was fully tensed and ready to beat the truth into Maea, but she let her final questions be the blow. "How do you expect to beat the Void and this "Family" if you've already defeated yourself? How are we supposed to follow your lead when you are stuck in the past? How are you going to honor your family by diminishing their sacrifice? Why are you alive?"

Thalassa

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

Maea's anger burned icy cold. With color flushed into the pale cheeks she grew ever more rigid as Thalassa's sharp tongue sliced her open, lungs constricting until she found herself gasping for breath. Several times she opened her mouth to cut in, to object and explain - but every time the Captain barreled on with such force that she couldn't get a Word in edgeways.

She had never claimed to be intelligent. Or pretended that she was strong. She wasn't asking anyone to follow her nor had she ever claimed that she would beat the Void - the very notion made her laugh, an icy sound laced through with bitterness that helped her mask the wild pain all the accusations caused her.

"How you choose to see me is on you," she retorted stiffly, after a resounding silence. "I've never pretended to be anything I'm not, and if you insist on claiming this to be a measure of strength or success – " she gestured to herself and the office around her, " – then we have very different ideas of what those words mean."

Rising from her chair, Maea wrapped the shawl tight about herself as she paced, aimless as a tiger in a cage. Fighting the vision of herself Thal painted up because of how poorly it fit with how she felt. Hating how much she wanted to be that kind of person. It was such a stupid notion!

"The truth is that I have never lived up to anyone's expectations. Not my father's, nor my teacher's, and certainly never my own. If I had I would not be here now, exposing my private life to a slip of a girl who dares pass judgement over me without knowing anything about me." Her eyes gleamed like shards of ice in the lamp-light as Maea met the pirate's gaze, hard as swords clashing.

"You ask why I'm alive, but I can't answer you - because I don't fucking know. Maybe I made a promise, maybe it's some twisted kind of luck, or maybe I'm just too fucking scared - and so what if I am!? Have I not lost enough already!? My family, my home, my guild, my companion and magic, and person after person who get close enough to make me care only to leave or disappear or die!"  

A hand cut a violent arc across the room. A burst of flame erupted from the brazier and the open candles, erazing all the shadows for a second; enough that the ghost paled out of sight. Only the biting chill suggested she was still there; listening, moving subtly to hover behind the Captain, who might feel a ghostly hand on her shoulder; grateful, encouraging her to keep going.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

She bows to no one.

The flash of fire was as much a show of her own emotion as Maea's, lighting the blue blaze in her eyes to an iridescent glow, following the Ancient's every move. Her fangs were slightly bared and a growl of frustration broke from her throat, attempting to shake the frozen heart in front of her. Thal's bubbling anger was fortified by the encouraging presence of an incorporeal hand against her back.

"No matter how much you deny it, your presence here is a sign of your strength. It isn't a matter of ideas or definitions. Strength is measured by withstanding adversity - physical, emotional, mental, or circumstantial. You've done all of that. You've survived all of that!" She picked up a stack of papers and waved them above her head. Their flapping drowned out the rhythmic tempo of the rain, causing her to raise her voice more. "Not only have you survived, you're working to help make the world a safer place for others!" Thal scoffed in disgust and threw the papers back on the desk. It was another fighting statement and she knew that Maea would not take the words lightly, but she needed to hear them. "You disrespect the memory of your family by ignoring what they so clearly saw in you."

Turning her back away, Thal crossed her arms and lowered her tone. "You asked this 'slip of a girl' to help you because you knew that I would tell you the truth, so listen to me now..."

When she turned back to Maea, the loud and animated fury had slipped into a grim determination. Her eyes darkened but maintained a burning soul filled with passion for every word. "Lying about your own power won't change the fact that they're gone. You delude yourself into thinking you didn't have the power to save them, yet you believe your actions had the ability to determine whether they lived or died. So which is it? Do you matter or not?" She let a moment of silence echo through the room, stoking the flames. The grey bundle pacing the floor felt like an impenetrable wall. Every word got twisted to serve her pity-party. Thal knew that if these words didn't reach her, there was no point in trusting her to be resilient in the coming battles. If the Family was any evidence as to what was coming, more losses were on the horizon. They had to be prepared. "The real answer is that you are not a god." She pointed at Maea in emphasis, letting the words sink in. "You cannot choose life or death for people. Not even for yourself. The only thing you can do is use it as fuel for the fire. Honor their wishes and live a fulfilled life. Find joy in helping others or get revenge on those who caused them harm. Whatever it may be that gives you purpose. Just embrace who you are." Her final words were as much for Maea as they were for herself. "Don't let people - especially yourself - diminish who you are or what you've accomplished."

Thalassa

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

Every word sliced deep into Maea's perception of who she was. Who she understood herself to be. Cut the conviction that she didn't care about people. Cut the falsehoods she had been draping herself in, that spoke of the futility in trying, in doing anything for anyone - because they all died anyway, right?

The truth was, she hadn't tried.

Sure, she left home to ease the burden on them, but she also spent the weeks cowering in a tavern, waiting for the darkness to go away while the Outlanders risked their lives to bring about change. Sure, she had tried to establish a leadership in the past, but at the first hint of opposition she had given up. Wasn't that the same in all that she did? Half-hearted, conflict avoidant, unable to commit herself to any cause or see anything through. Even during the war; she had never picked a side, just ducked her head and stood undecided until the tides washed over her.

Ah, it was humiliating. For someone who kept insisting she never did anything half-way... it was just pathetic. What kind of strength was there in surviving if she'd only ever run away from the challenges she faced? Not once had she really tried to overcome them. Not even once.

And her family... That hurt the most. Because she knew her brother loved her. He had done so much for her, and when he finally needed her - she had not been there. And the Children, and –

Tears stung her eyes, out of shame as much as rage and frustration. Maes tried to turn away, but the spirit of Lianna swept past Thalassa and drew up right before her. Icy cold hands cupped her face, and Maea found herself unable to look away.

"You were only a girl", a distant voice whispered, faint yet clear enough for the two women to hear. "Sick and blind and defeated by the world before you ever had a chance to know it. How can you be responsible for what happened? All you would have achieved would be to perish alongside us. And then what? Would that really make your brother happy? You know him - tell me he would wish you dead."

"I - but... " Squirming in the ghostly grasp, her cheeks were growing numb with cold. Maea couldn't breathe, choking on despair; "But I left you..."
"And you lived. Even now you live. That was always the point, moonflower. Why else did we work so hard?"

A tear escaped the corner of Maea's eye and rolled down a pale cheek. The cold of the room grew intense enough for frost to crawl up the windows, their breath fogging in the air. The fires dimmed, hushed into an eerie bluish glow while the spirit grew steadily more visible; her eyes a lovely shade of meadow green, framed by golden hair. Beautiful, ethereal - even now her smile seemed to radiate kindness.

"Don't give up, you hear me? Keep living. Even if you have to run. Even if you're on your hands and knees, even if no one else understand - we raised you to endure. So endure."

Radiant eyes seemed to glow from within as they turned for a moment onto Thalassa, and the smile the spirit offered was warm and proud.
"You are not alone, after all. If you can't live for yourself... live for them."

The light spread through the woman's figure, and for a moment she appeared as she had been in life. Tall, fair, her posture like that of a queen rather than the shepherd's wife. The light she cast was warm and soothing and made the tears on Maea's cheeks glisten like tiny diamonds. It grew blinding, impossible to look at - then, in a wistful sigh, she was gone, the spirit nowhere to be seen.

Maea sank down onto the floor. Buried her face in her hands, beyond pretense, unable to keep the tears from overflowing. She had thought she couldn't cry more over her family... but it seemed that too had been a lie.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

She bows to no one.

Thal watched the exchange between Maea and her sister-in-law, observing the way the woman's words elicited such emotions. The way her face appeared so broken; a sympathetic pain caused her chest to ache. Each word had found its mark, but they gave her no satisfaction. The journey to healing required the debridement of old wounds to prevent trapping the infection within. This was the first step for Maea. This was the most painful part. Thal was not ignorant to her suffering or the struggles she would continue to experience.

As the ghost turned to her with an appreciative - yet somber - smile, Thal nodded her head in respect and understanding. She had been the battering ram to open Maea's heart. There had been no softness or compassion in how she approached the issue. No gentle embraces or kind words. That wasn't going to make Maea receptive to the words of her family. It felt like cruelty to dredge up such deep insecurities and dark memories even if Thal knew it was necessary. However, it didn't change the guilt wracking her body.

In a flash of blinding light, the ghost took the flame of anger, leaving her with a cold chill. Each tensing of her muscles was a sore aching reminder of their verbal battle. Her tongue was a heavy bar of lead tasting of ash and bitter words. And yet her work wasn't done.

Her movements were sluggish as she approached the pale Ancient crumpled on the floor. She had no experience comforting others. Pirates didn't cry. Pirates didn't need emotional support. They shoved their fears and insecurities into the depths of the sea, only to be reunited when they embraced their watery graves. But Maea wasn't a pirate and Thal was partially - perhaps fully - to blame for her agony. So she knelt next to her and reached out a tender hand to let the Ancient know she was there. If she wanted a hug, she was here as an offering to embrace. If she wanted silence, she would be with her in the silence. If she wanted to speak, she would respond with as much gentleness as she could muster. If she wanted something to hit, she was prepared to be the subject of her aggression. Whatever Maea needed, Thal was ready to be that for her.

Thalassa

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

There was a howling void in the pit of her stomach, and no matter what she threw at it of tears, sorrow, anger or regret managed to fill it. Love was a dreadful thing. The wounds it caused, the scars it left - Maea wished she had never known it. Maybe then she wouldn't be hurting like this now. How she longed for the cold numbness that came with indifference. There had been a dark kind of peace associated with it, and she was conveniently forgetting that she had been in pain like that too.

Sensing the approach of the other woman, Maea tensed. Never one to let anyone close easily, she shrank away from the offer of touch and sucked in a breath, trembling and chopped.
"Don't. Leave me alone."

She didn't want this. Did not need to be consoled. Pushing herself up to stand, she turned away, unwilling to let Thalassa see her tearstreaked face. Stiff backed, distant; what was said may have been necessary, but that didn't mean the words hurt any less. And right now Maea was not able to be fair.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

She bows to no one.

Thal let her outreached hand fall back to her side, a small pang of hurt resonating. The logic in her mind told her not to take it personally, but the visible recoil from her touch struck deeper than the situation warranted. Although Maea had turned away, Thal steeled her face to keep the pain from peeking through. Hers was nothing in comparison to the world-ending heartbreak she had seen in Maea's eyes. An innate, dispassionate instinct told her to leave as the choked words had demanded of her, yet the separation between words were almost a plea to stay.

"Don't leave me alone." The words repeated in her ears like a cry for help.

If no one stayed to support her in her pain, how was she supposed to heal? Thal held no inclination towards compassion or solacing. Her job was complete. The ghost was gone. What connection did she have to Maea anyways?

Standing, she looked back to Maea's stiff figure before walking out the door and closing it behind her softly, only to slide her body down to the floor. Silently, she let her head lean against the wood. The cold night air dragged across her skin, slowing her racing heart. A languid sense of exhaustion settled over her, but she made no effort to get comfortable.

Their relationship was not deep or close. They barely knew each other. She should just get up and leave. There was bound to be food nearby. However, Thal stayed rooted to the floor. She knew what it was like to walk alone in life. She had been without anyone before as she wandered aimlessly those first few months after her awakening. No one deserved to feel that kind of isolation from others. Maea especially.

So she sat in silence, each stabbing stone and unyielding surface a conscious punishment to indulge her self-pity as her few memories replayed continuously. Thal let her pain continue in solidarity, waiting for Maea to open up.

Thalassa

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

The woman left. The quiet snick as the door closed behind her was as a trigger that released a held back torrent. Sucking in a deep breath that shuddered with the force of pent up emotion, and another, Maea bent like a candle before a raging bonfire. The pain was a physical thing. It rose like a spasm through her gut, tearing its way through her throat and broke free in a choked up groan. The first cry was entirely silent; but the ones that followed were of the guttural, heart-wrenching kind that brought to mind wounded animals or dying horses. No one should ever have to make that sound. No one should ever have to hear it either.

But here they were anyway. Made to suffer through such a deeply unpleasant experience together, in the name of... what? Not friendship, surely. Friends didn't say those kinds of things to one another, even when they should.
But family might. Was there, after all, anything more savage and well meaning than a sister who told the truth like it was? Knowing, without really understanding why, that there was no running away from one another.

It took a long time before the desperate sobs stopped sounding through the door. Longer still before quieter, hiccuping sobs ceased shaking Maea's thin shoulders and the raging flood of her grief ran its course. Should Thalassa, when the silence within grew still more prolonged, decide to crack the door open and peer inside, it would be to find the Loreseeker curled up on the floor in a corner of her office, sitting with her back against a shelf and the knees pulled up against the chest. Shawl wrapped around herself, she stared unseeing at some spot along the ceiling. Silent and unmoving - beyond words or such things as sleep or self-awareness.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

She bows to no one.

The echoed cries filtered under the door, a wailing symphony of unbridled pain and heartbreak. Thal simply sat as witness to every agonizing moment. A vessel for Maea's emotions while amplifying her own. The guilt and isolation were compounded with each passing heartbeat, a gong to ring in the next level of hellish misery. The torture seemed endless. But isn't this what she deserved?

Time passed slowly and when the rain could once more be heard, only silence occupied her mind. Thal had grown numb long ago, the chill of the floor seeping into her bones. Her pulse had slowed to an occasional beat to remind her of its presence. That she still lived as much as the Ancient within.

With sluggish movements, she forced herself to quietly rise from the floor. Her hand brushed the door and she hesitantly prepared to enter. But she stilled, uncertain whether her presence would be welcomed or not. Thal changed course and approached the fireplace of the sitting area to retrieve a kettle. She filled it with water and placed it over the fire to boil. Rather than lean into the fire's warmth, she shied away from the bright light, preferring to stare into the dark recesses of the room, letting her mind remain empty. It wasn't a content sort of comfortable emptiness, but an exhausted aching void that she no longer had the energy to explore.

By the time the water was ready, she had gathered the scraps of her lingering motivation to prepare the tea and grab a blanket from a nearby lounge chair. The herbal mixture wafted into her face as she approached the door once more. Its dark looming structure was as enticing as the door to hell, but she was not one to ignore her own culpability. So she turned the handle and pushed against the wood, letting it drift open.

Maea's blank stare felt like a mirror of her own. Her body had wilted in on itself, attempting to hide from the cruel unfairness of the world. Guilt returned with a vengeance and Thal's feet itched to turn back. Yet she crept forward slowly as if approaching a skittish child. Taking a place next to her, Thal slid back down to the familiar floor, feeling the sore ache of her muscles return. Not expecting Maea to accept anything from her, Thal placed the blanket over her thin shoulders atop the grey shawl then put the tea on the stone ground between them as an offering. She couldn't take away the pain, but she was willing to be present for Maea and her suffering.

Thalassa

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

Her eyes stung with the lingering salt of her tears. Swollen and puffy eyelids felt sticky whenever she remembered to blink. She should go wash her face. Moving didn't happen though. Her body was numb and disobedient to the sluggish trickle of thoughts; her insides were raw and bruised, but whether those innards were the physical guts and muscles and working organs, or the halting machinery of her mind was hard to know. A bit of both, likely. It was not often that she cried like this. Tearing up, sure - it was almost commonplace these days, where getting in touch with her emotions was growing easier. But not this. This was a purge, a lancing of wounds, the result of bottling up and holding back for years.

Numb, listless, Maea sat with the dark and childish parts of herself that so rarely were allowed room to play. The part that relished in her own misery. That cried for the attention of the woman she had asked for help, and took savage pleasure in being willful and difficult and unresponsive. Part of her stubbornly refused to react when the door creaked open, and huffed in offended indignation when Thalassa immediately left again. Was that it, then? She would just roll through like a wrecking ball, then leave to let Maea pick up the pieces of her life on her own, all over again?

Fine. That was fine. She'd just stay alone. Everyone could just fuck off and do whatever; she was done caring. Done trying. If it was her fate to be alone then she'd fucking stay alone too!
Of course, she had asked her to go. So it really should annoy her more that the woman had lingered at all. Had she heard her, through the door? Gods, that was embarrassing. So humiliating!

By the time she returned, Maea had all but decided that she was done reacting to anything ever again. Her awareness of the soft footfalls approaching refused to fall away however. She felt the presence encroach on her space, and the waft of air of the blanket being cast over her, followed by the gentle weight against her skin; it was only her refusal to move that kept her from shrugging the thing off like a sullen child who had just thrown a tantrum.
Quiet clicks of porcelain against stone preceded the floral scent of tea. It teased her senses, taunting her inability to disconnect in the same way that the blanket prevented her from reveling in the cold. Why was she not allowed to remain miserable? Why did she have to accept all this softness, all this sticky, touchy, insufferable kindness?

She didn't want it. Didn't need it. Hadn't asked for it and didn't know what to do with it even if she had.

Slowly, reluctantly, like it was the most insufferably humiliating thing she'd ever had to do, she picked up the mug of tea. Cradled it in her hands, until the prickling heat had seeped deep enough into her digits that she could feel them again.
Maea didn't look at Thalassa. That would be too much. She didn't really do anything but sip at the brew, until she finally found the right, the proper word that summed up exactly what she felt about the pirate and self-proclaimed therapist at that exact moment.

"Cunt." It was heartfelt.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!