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Ros scratched under Mae Meowski’s chin, smiling gently as the cat purred up at her. She was sitting on the edge of Aimsey’s bed, entertaining herself as she waited, content and patient, for the alchemist to return to their house.
Ros loved Aimsey’s tower. It was always warm from the bubbling of brewing stands tucked against the walls in other rooms, and it smelled like an eclectic mix of potion ingredients, slightly different each time she visited. It was small, much much smaller than the castle, but that made it cozy. When it was just the two of them, the tower felt private. Safe. The castle didn’t feel like that much anymore. It was all looming ceilings and echoing halls and freezing marble. She loved it, of course, but it was nice to get out every now and again.
“Well hello,” A fond voice jolted Ros from her musings. “What are you doing here?”
Aimsey must have come in while Ros wasn’t paying attention. They grinned at her questioningly, awaiting her response. What was she doing here? She was sure she had a reason. If she could just remember…
“I’m sorry,” she found herself saying.
Aimsey snorted, taking a seat next to her on the bed. “What are you sorry for, Ros?”
Ros watched their face, searching for words. Blood creeped to the edges of the bandage covering their eye. It didn’t quite spill over, like she had seen it do once, dripping down Aimsey’s face in rivulets, staining their clothes. It was close, though, and the thought made Ros’s heart clench.
“I hurt you,” she whispered. “I hurt you, and I’m sorry.”
Aimsey closed their eye and leaned against Ros’s shoulder. Ros followed suit, closing her eyes and relaxing into the contact.
“Yeah. I forgive you.”
There was a rasp to Aimsey’s voice that made Ros look down, concerned. But when she opened her eyes, all she saw was blood. It poured out from Aimsey’s eye, the other still closed serenely. More of it bloomed from beneath their sweater. Ros’s breath hitched, panic constricting her throat. It was everywhere, soaking their clothes, their skin, covering Ros’s hands, and Ros knew, with unshakable certainty that it was all her fault--
~
Ros awoke with a sob.
She was in her room in the castle, beneath a pile of handwoven blankets and surrounded by dogs, all of which did nothing to shield her from the cold seeping into her bones as she shook. Here in her lonely room with clean hands and a life that belonged to someone else. God.
Her hands shook. What a foolish dream. There hadn’t-- there hadn’t even been blood when Aimsey died. She hadn’t even been there when it happened.
The Lich nudged himself into her arms, and she held him close, whispering shaky apologies with each gasping breath. This had become something of a daily ritual for them over the past few days. Ros would wake up from a dream and feel the ache all over again, and she and The Lich would cry together. Ros was grateful for the company.
Eventually, the tears ran out and the sun came up, and Ros peeled herself from her bed, a yawning emptiness in her chest as she prepared to face the other members of the Kingdom.
The castle was more full these days. Foolish was still off someplace far away, but in his absence, Owen and Sneeg had returned to help her look over the Kingdom’s affairs. Even Clown was coming out of his tower more often to train with her and give advice. For months, Ros wished for the rooms of the castle to be filled again, but now that they were, she couldn’t help but reminisce about the days before they returned. Or rather, before Owen returned.
She could hear his voice in the kitchen, spinning some tale to Sneeg. She loathed to face him again, but she had things to do, and they required entering the kitchen.
“Ros!” The jester in question crowed, “Glad to see you decided to join us.”
“Owen.” She made no attempt to disguise the ice in her voice. She brushed past him, opening one of the kitchen chests instead to see if anyone had brought in fish this morning.
“Are you okay, Ros?” Clown asked, voice low and worried.
She glanced over at him, surprised to see him at the table with the others. Clown was typically holed up in his tower for meals, being dedicated to his craft and making no secret of his disdain for Owen. It seems Owen’s reappearance has worked miracles for the kingdom’s unity, as long as that kingdom doesn’t include her.
Clown was still looking at her from behind his mask, and Ros ached to tell him everything. But she was dedicated to not crying in front of Owen, so she choked out: “I-- I’ll tell you later.”
She gathered the fish and quickly made her exit. As she left, she heard her name mentioned in a muttered comment, but she elected to not think about whatever they were saying about her.
The Lich was waiting for her outside the castle, and she gave him an appreciative smile. They made their way down the gravel path until they stood in front of Aimsey’s tower.
She took a deep breath, bracing herself. The Lich nudged against her leg reassuringly, and followed closely behind her when she finally opened the door.
It was…cold.
It made sense. The brewing stands have been long dim by now, with no one to light them.
It made sense, but it still had Ros blinking back tears.
She had to focus. There were things that needed her.
She walked further into the house until she found the cats, who wound themselves around her ankles when they saw her. She giggled and greeted them before presenting them with the fish. After the cats came feeding the Minotaur, then it was dusting the shelves and chests. The Lich helped her clean, and after, when she sat on the balcony, he let her cradle him to her chest as she read one of Aimsey’s many stories aloud, hoping that maybe, if she read the right one, it might reach them somewhere out there.
“I’m sorry,” She said to the sky, after she finished the story, and Lich poofed away for the evening. It feels like the only thing she’s ever able to say to them is apologies.
“I’m taking care of everyone though, so--” Ros sniffed, “So don’t worry! I’m doing my best.” A few tears managed to slip out, but she smiled softly at the air nonetheless. “I miss you.”
She wiped her cheeks, and took a couple more moments to breathe. Then she climbed down the ladder and began to make her way back to the castle. Or she would have, if she didn’t find Pangi standing outside of Aimsey’s door, waiting for her.
Ros blinked at him, “Are you here to kill me?”
“Maybe,” Pangi considered her from behind his sunglasses. “Do you want me to?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, interrupting her stunned silence. “I’m sorry about Aimsey.”
'Yeah, well, I’m not sorry about Pili', Ros wanted to bite, but she knew that wouldn’t be fair, so instead she settled on a quiet, “Thanks.”
Silence stretched between them. Looking at Pangi, Ros thought that she understood his anger. She’s been angry for a very long time, but she suspects he’s been seething for longer. Still, she knows how the weight of fury in your chest can grow so large it makes it difficult to breathe, and she knows he’s struggling under its weight, desperate for any source of relief.
Their situations weren’t the same, of course. She saw the fight. Everyone did. Pili greeted his end with a tired grin, begging Clown to hit him again, and again, and again. Pangi must have been by his side for months, watching him tirelessly prepare to throw his life away. She can’t imagine what it was like.
Aimsey--
I want to live.
Aimsey was stolen. Right in front of Ros’s eyes. Their life delivered to Ros by the uncaring hands of the Keepers. How was she supposed to continue, with this life she never deserved? She could feel it in her ribcage, calm and still like Aimsey so rarely was. It made her feel sick.
“No.”
“Hm?”
“No,” Ros repeated softly. “I don’t want you to kill me.”
Pangi tilted his head. “Okay. Might kill Owen, though.”
Ros scoffed without thinking, “Not if I get him first.”
“Yeah?” He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes behind those glasses, but Ros appreciated the offering for what it was.
Pangi teleported away, and Ros made her way back to the castle. She should start packing soon.
~
“I’m sorry,” Ros said. “I- I brought flowers? In person this time.”
Aimsey looked at Ros pityingly, but reached for the flowers anyway. “It’s not your fault, Ros.”
“It’s not?”
“No,” They said, searching for a jar to place the flowers in. Their house was always so full of life, houseplants and moss and vines growing in harmony. Ros could barely keep a weed alive.
“Are--” Ros looked over at them nervously, “Are you sure?”
“Listen,” Aimsey replied sternly, turning to take her hands into theirs. “Even if it was, I would forgive you anyway.”
~
She didn't cry when she woke up, this time.
She only stared at her ceiling, feeling Aimsey’s life in her chest weighing heavy. The Lich hadn't come back yet, and sunlight was streaming through her windows, leaving fence shadows on her face.
She pried herself from the bed. She had to go. She didn't know where, yet, but she knew that the longer she stayed in one place, the more the loss threatened to consume her.
Aimsey would need her help, when they got back. So she had to keep going.