From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
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Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
The midwife indeed only knew the outward facing view of the Launceleyn family, and all of it from second hand knowledge. What she knew really didn’t go any deeper than what she had revealed. But his reason for acting on duty perplexed her, and her brows furrowed in thought. ”You know…one of the first things you learn as a midwife is not how to help bring children into the world, but how often people die; how fragile life is.” she said softly, watching him carefully in case this was about to go south. ”And just because a midwife is there, someone who knows all the dangers and possible ways to prevent and fix those problems, it doesn’t mean we can. It doesn’t mean there isn’t suffering. It simply is, and if we carried that weight on our shoulders, midwives everywhere would drown beneath it.” she said, offering him a small, warm smile. ”You shouldn’t try and shoulder the weight of all the bad things that happened while you were gone either. It isn’t yours to bear, nor anyone else’s.”
His next question made her look down as well, falling silent for another moment. ”I don’t not like you.” she corrected. ”You were needlessly cruel to me I think. But I don’t know everything you are going through either that made you react that way.” she said, shrugging a bit. ”You’re in a difficult position and I shouldn’t have tried to insert myself. I just…like helping people. Life is hard, so I try to be a source of warmth and good…even if I am not perfect at it.” she said, glancing at him again, worried he would snap at her. ”So even though you have made abundantly clear that you hate me, I still want you to feel comfortable while you are in my home, because the rest of the world might not be.”
Loren had no idea that midwives were such fonts of wisdom, and the words rang a bit false to his ears. Nor did he necessarily buy the pretty little speech from Phoebe. Childbirth was an awful thing, yes, and both children and mothers died from it. But that was true for all healers, including the summoner. And she was missing one very crucial piece of the puzzle. ”I wasn’t there.” He’d never given the people who’d died or been lost a chance, and he would never forgive himself for that. All he could do was try to save the rest of them.
Seeing as the Launceleyn wasn’t even comfortable in his own home—too many ghosts, he didn’t like the decor, it wasn’t his home, not really—he saw little chance that he’d be comfortable in Phoebe’s. He was sitting, and that would have to be enough for her. ”Some people don’t want to be helped.” Just because the midwife was oh so helpful didn’t mean her efforts were appreciated. His certainly weren’t. Still, he probably owed her more than that. "I don't hate you." Maybe at the time he'd been enraged at her, but while he'd been cruel, it hadn't risen to the level of hate.
Midwifery was a practice as old as time, and the knowledge they held passed down from generation to generation. It was rich and fulsome, but it didn’t mean she was good at implementing it in her own life. She shrugged a bit at his protest. ”And if you had been, maybe they would have lived. Or maybe they would have still died. Or maybe you would have died. Or maybe you would have been generally around but still not where you needed to be to save them.” she said, smiling mirthlessly at the ground. ”If you surround yourself with the what-ifs and the maybes and the might have beens, you’ll drive yourself insane – and then you’re not helping anyone at all. Forgiving yourself is just as important as forgiving others.” she said softly.
”Why don’t you?” she asked him, curious. It seemed odd to her – everyone needed help from time to time. Even the gods needed the help of their fellow deities every now and again, the flowers that Vi created to stop the blight being the most recent evidence of it. That he didn’t hate her though…that very much surprised her, and it was clear on her face. For a moment she turned away, stirring the contents of the simmering pot. ”You did a very good job pretending it then.” she said softly.
10-09-2019, 07:05 PM (This post was last modified: 10-09-2019, 07:08 PM by Loren.)
Phoebe was too kind to realize just how deeply Loren’s need to be useful and present was, how ingrained it was in every part of him. He’d been bred and raised to serve the interests of others, and he could never absolve himself of the fact that he’d failed in that duty. ”Maybe. But I wasn’t there to know if I would’ve made a difference. And I think, in enough cases, I would have. That's probably self-centered of me, but pride is the least of my sins. So if my options are forgiveness for myself or insanity, I’ll go insane .” Maybe the healer shouldn’t have put the choices so starkly, given how often he seemed to flirt with madness.
When she asked why he rejected help, his eyes grew hard and icy again. Still, his voice was mostly neutral as he spoke. ”Because I’m not a project. I don’t need to be protected, or coddled, or fixed. And I certainly don’t need people’s beliefs and desires about who I am and who I should be to change what I want for myself.” He’d never had a chance to discover who he was under all the layers of responsibility and guilt. Now that he had a chance, though, it seemed that everyone had an opinion. And worse, they all wanted to weigh in on it.
Indeed, he couldn’t think of any other reason why the midwife would’ve brought up the kiss Remi asked for as she had, other than wanting to tell the summoner he was better than that, or deserved better than that, or some such nonsense. ”Alright. I don’t hate you now.” Hatred was exhausting: he just wanted to be left alone to figure out what he wanted from life. Maybe not what he deserved, because he didn’t think he deserved much of anything. But at least what he needed, then.
She frowned a bit. He seemed intent on self-destruction, and it hurt her heart in an empathetic sort of way. ”Well…if it means anything at all, which I know it probably doesn’t, I don’t think you deserve that.” she said softly, taking the pot off the heat but leaving the lid on before turning back to face him. She hoped it meant something, considering she was saying it after he had been so cruel to her, but she doubted it would.
Even then the icy look returned to his eyes, though fortunately his tone was still measured. Phoebe glanced at her hands, still trembling lightly from remaining blight. She said nothing for a moment, just rolling his words over in her mind. ”I did not intend to make you feel like that.” she said softly, tone genuine as she looked back up at him. ”And I apologize for doing so. For what it is worth, I don’t think you are a project, nor do I think you need to be fixed or coddled or protected. I just know that it can be hard to do everything on one’s own and wanted to offer whatever help I could give you that you thought you needed or wanted.” she said. Perhaps he would yell at her for that too, but she wouldn’t let it shake her this time. She knew her own heart, and in this she knew she was in the right. It wasn’t about changing him or what he wanted, it was simply about giving him the option and comfort of knowing someone was willing to help if he needed or wanted it.
”I’m not even worth your hatred then?” she said with a sad smile and light laugh. But she shook her head, it was a poor joke and not worthy of a response really. ”Well…I’m glad to know you don’t hate me at least.”
10-09-2019, 08:23 PM (This post was last modified: 10-09-2019, 08:24 PM by Loren.)
If only the world was as simple and sweet as Phoebe still seemed to think it was. Unfortunately, Loren had seen the darkest parts of it and the people in it, and it had irrevocably marked him and stained his soul. ”Sometimes things happen to us that we don’t deserve.” Which was why her words didn’t mean anything; they were meaningless in the face of cruel and uncaring fates and gods and a world that wouldn’t care if they disappeared off its face the next day.
Another thing Loren knew better than most was that intentions didn’t always and often didn’t matter. There was a reason people said the road to hell was paved with the good ones. Phoebe had made him feel that way and he wasn’t going to apologize for his feelings. However, he’d hurt hers enough, which was why he listened to her explanation to the end. ”I don’t find doing things on my own difficult.” No, where he struggled was with being around other people; he’d been raised to be a tool in the service of the crown, not to have friends, or to let anyone close. Oh, sure it had been family first. However, it had also been might makes right, and everyone for themselves in the end.
As Phoebe seemed almost upset that the Launceleyn didn’t hate her, he sighed. Hearing her apologize for everything when he’d been out of line was too much, even for him. ”I am sorry for what I said.” While he’d stand by most of the contents, even he would admit the way he’d said it had been cruel. And he didn't hate her. He just hated misplaced pity and sympathy, hated receiving help he didn't want and certainly didn't deserve.
”That’s very true. But you get to choose if you let those things break you down or help you grow.” she said with a little shrug. As much as she did not know him, the Launceleyn did not know her. Perhaps the struggles she endured in life were not nearly so severe or constant as his, but many were still considered unfathomable struggles by most. And in the wake of them, looking back, instead of becoming cold and crazed, she was deciding to walk the more difficult path.
She raised a brow at him though before turning to check on what was in the oven. ”Really? You don’t ever get lonely?” she asked curiously.
But Phoebe’s lips set in a line when he apologized, making her pause as she closed the oven. It was only a moment before she resumed, closing it fully, turning to smile at him warmly. ”I appreciate the apology but you needn’t be. You weren’t…wholly wrong about some of it…though maybe harsher than needed.” she said wringing her hands in her apron almost absentmindedly. ”I…I am trying to change though. I am trying to be stronger and…better. It’s just…been a rough year, and I’ve just now realized how foolish I’ve been and am trying to reset. So…I beg your patience.” she said softly.
Well, that was another sweet sentiment from Phoebe. Sadly, Loren didn’t believe it was true. ”We don’t always get to choose that.” People seemed to feel they had a lot more agency than they really did. However, he knew better than most that people, despite their best efforts, were mostly just products of their upbringing. Whether they broke or grew—another dichotomy he rejected, since one could do both—wasn’t always up to them.
”I didn’t say that.” Of course he got lonely. Everyone got lonely from time to time. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t find it easier to do things on his own: other people just seemed to get in the way, or else they would criticize the way he did things. However, he always got the job done with the minimum amount of harm done to anyone other than himself. Experiencing more pain was easier for him than seeing others go through it, most of the time. Like when he’d lashed out at the healer. ”Then I apologize for how I said what said. And you have my patience, if I have yours.” Seemed he’d be needing a lot of it.
Phoebe thought that an interesting take on what she said – sad but interesting. ”Why do you say that?” she asked. To say one didn’t have a choice in how they behaved or acted in the wake of a situation seemed a way to abdicate all guilt. If you couldn’t do anything about it, then how could anyone hold you accountable for things you did? It seemed entirely counterintuitive to her.
Her brow furrowed a bit more. He liked doing things alone, but he also got lonely. ”That sounds like a pretty vicious cycle to me.” she said softly. It made her feel bad for him, but she wouldn’t voice it. He had made clear he did not want sympathy or empathy or anything even remotely resembling it. Her observation was probably about as much of that as he could handle.
She considered his apology and concession in silence, turning to pull out the supper she had been preparing from the oven. ”Apology accepted…and thank you. I didn’t expect one from you.” she said quietly. ”You have my patience too.” she added.
Apparently Phoebe didn’t necessarily agree with Loren’s thoughts on whether traumatic events shattered them or made them stronger than ever. He thought maybe they were both a little right and a little wrong. ”I said we don’t always get to choose. Because sometimes...sometimes the experience is so overwhelming, or our upbringing has prepared us so poorly to handle it, that we just collapse under the pressure.” That had happened to him more than once, and he hadn’t always chosen that path. He hadn’t chosen to have a mental breakdown, hadn’t chosen to abandon everyone, but it had happened. If he let himself view that as a choice he’d made, it would ruin him more than he already was.
Vicious cycles were the only ones he’d ever known: torture, emotional turmoil, violence, death. He didn’t see that changing any time soon, not given what they were up against. Indeed, if anything, it was just getting worse with time, not better. LongNight was apparently going to be far more terrifying and dangerous than anything he’d experienced up to now, and that was saying a lot. ”Maybe.”
There wasn’t any way to change that, not now; it was far too late for him to go back and make different choices, better choices, and try to break the cycles he constantly found himself in. Even if he could in his personal life, the world wouldn’t stop beating the drums of war it seemed. Not trusting himself to speak further, he simply nodded at her comment about apologies and patience. No doubt he’d undo this progress as well, but for now the wheel was on an upswing for him and he’d let it continue for as long as possible.
Phoebe considered his words in silent for a moment. ”I suppose that is true to some extent.” she said, conceding the point to him. But only in part. ”I think, more what I meant was…we have a choice, more often than not I think…to decide if we will get back up when we break down, or if we will stay broken. I have to believe we’ve the opportunity to start over.” she said quietly, as she began to pull out plates and various table settings for supper.
”Boys, dinner is almost done. Go wash up!” Phoebe called to them. The three scurried in a little herd to the bathroom to do so as she midwife set out plates. She smiled just a bit, shaking her head at them as she began plating up supper. Silly boys. While they washed up, she set out plates for everyone – meatloaf with potatoes, some mixed vegetables and gravy – including one for Loren.
More often than not they did have the choice that Phoebe was outlining. However, even she seemed to admit that it wasn’t always, at least not right away. Besides, Loren’s pessimism was deep-seated. It wasn’t going to be banished by words from a stranger who he’d hurt and barely knew. ”There are only so many times we can start over before…” He trailed off, since he wasn’t sure what he was going to say there. Before they ran out of chances. Before they forgot how. Before they lost sight of where they were going and where they’d been, and who they were and wanted to be.
The boys had almost been forgotten until this moment. The Launceleyn’s eyes tracked them as they followed the midwife’s request. Then the summoner counted the place settings: it seemed there was one for him. It was nice, but unnecessary. ”I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not hungry, and I wouldn’t want to impose. Moreover, you’ll have more mouths to feed moving forward.” Indeed, she should probably keep the leftovers to feed the three children she’d unexpectedly been saddled with.
”When you hit that point is when you must ask for help.” she said softly with a small smile at him. ”Humans were never intended to survive entirely on our own.” Some creatures were, but not them. It was why they felt loneliness. It was why they built complex societies and searched for meaning amongst their fellow man. In wasn’t about doing it all on one’s own, it was about succeeding together – most of the time anyways.
”I am pretty sure you wanted to impose when you decided to stay until the boys go to bed.” she said with a small smirk. ”And whether you are hungry or not doesn’t matter. From a healer’s perspective you are starving to death, and I simply won’t stand for that in my home when I’ve food enough to share.” she said, setting the plate before him.” She had gone hungry herself enough times when she first arrived, her practice having not had enough of a name to get much business at that point, that she hated the thought of anyone else going through the same thing – self-imposed or otherwise.
Shortly after the boys returned, scrambling up onto their chairs around the table. They waited politely for Phoebe to stake a seat as well with her own modest plate before digging in – Jax with the most gusto. Phoebe kept a close eye on them while they ate, more attentive to her nephews than her own plate.
Those were pretty strong assumptions from Phoebe. ”Must?” Loren had never felt the need to ask for help from anyone, but then again, maybe that was exactly her point. ”Is that by nature or by nurture? Because I was raised to be entirely self-sufficient.” To put the family and the crown first, obviously. But in the end he’d been expected to be able to take care of himself with no outside help. Maybe that hadn’t been his kin’s intention, but it had been the result. Indeed, it wasn't as if he could rely upon them for anything.
Knowing that fighting her on the food was a losing battle—besides, he still needed her goodwill for the search itself—he accepted the plate she offered. ”Alright, thank you.” This time, though, he’d definitely help with the clean up efforts, since she herself had just admitted that he was an imposition.
