Duck Lake I want to see you smile but know that means I'll have to leave

Wondering if there's a way I could snag a @Bjarna but if not just shoot me a PM and I'll set to all welcome <3

Today Reverie broke another promise. Only to herself this time, but the guilt tore at her even as she passed the Creek's border. But... really, what did it matter, anyway? She couldn't make Lestan happy. That much was clear. Weeks had passed without improvement. If anything, it felt worse now, and Reverie could not help but wonder if she was cursed.
Nothing else made sense to her. Daily she tried, for him, to stifle the overwhelming sadness that had haunted her for so long it felt like a part of her now. It was a constant battle. And it was not enough. Maybe Arric had been right;
Maybe Lestan did not really love her for her. But if that was the case, why stay at all? Reverie came to the lake where they had first been intimate with one another, and warm tears stung her eyes at the sight of it. The memory was not a happy one. She still remembered her tears, and Lestan's ignorance to them. I would have noticed, she thought bitterly, if he was crying. I would have tried to comfort him. But her comfort was worth nothing to him... so what did it matter?

bjarna:

she healed the boy from the creek.

she kept the company of sól in her den.

she mingled among the two new men who had come to them as well. bjarna did not know peace anymore. had she ever? maybe. maybe a time before she stood nearly at the helm of kvarsheim.

yet now she was constantly engaged with something.

this was a medicine run and nothing more. she wished to see what grew along a lake (in winter, hah!) that would not grow along a creek. things not exactly native to kvarsheim. yet it was a golden figure along the lake that caught her attention.

suddenly her heart resided in her throat even if her gaze remained that tired sort of state — a state that she never seemed to leave these days.

systir?

Systir?
Reverie turned, and the dam broke. Her eyes welled with tears almost before she registered the emotion that accompanied them. Was it worth it? Leaving her behind, leaving a love that she knew would not fade for — this. The Creek: it represented now a cold journey alone in her own mind, unfamiliar wolves who offered sharp truths she could hardly stand to swallow, blood and mess and birth in a den avoided by those who did not have to witness such suffering. These were the things Swiftcurrent Creek had given her.
It was a lonely place, she saw that now. A place where dreams went to die, and new life was stained in the colors of solitude. But she was safe there. Safe from Tybault, from the ghosts of her past.
Bjarna was not safe, though. The threat of Reverie's brothers still loomed for her, and for Kvarsheim, as long as she remained. Reverie drifted forward, feeling at once numb and overwhelmed by emotion. Bjarna, It was a whisper. I... What could she say? I left to protect you? Was that the truth?
She didn't know.
All she knew was that suddenly, desperately, she wanted to go home —
but she did not know where home was, anymore.

she had thought, once upon a time, that this might be joyous.

that she might hug reverie and ask her of the things she saw. if she was happy and safe. if they tended to her in all the ways she needed.

but there were tears and bjarna's tongue felt thick in her mouth.

the sinking, continuing realization that life was never what one expected.

they did not need many words to talk. they never had before, they would not now. she only offered an opening of her arms as she reclined. a welcoming beacon for her systir if she wished it.

Bjarna didn't say anything. She didn't have to. The opening of her arms was like the unlocking of a door at the end of a long dark hall, a door that gleamed under the cracks and through the lock with a light so bright it stung eyes and heated all that it touched. Reverie all but collapsed in her arms, mindful of Bjarna's tiny frame but entirely overwhelmed.
There was no comfort in it, though. Only a stark illumination of all the wounds that littered her bared soul. She was crying quietly, breaking so softly. I've made all the wrong decisions, Reverie confessed, not caring anymore that Bjarna could not understand. Above all else, what Reverie needed right now was a sister. I was in danger, and Lestan protected me, and I thought - I thought he loved me, so I stayed for him. I think... he thinks that he loves me, too. But he doesn't.
Of this she was certain. He thinks I'm beautiful, She felt a numbness come over her as she continued, all these assumptions that had never been corrected and had only grown until they became her truths. And - I do things with him. The kinds of things men want. I changed for him, you know? It ended up being good for me. But it isn't good for him. He's not happy.
There's a woman at the Creek, Jakoul. She gave birth. I was there with her, just in case, Reverie went on, rambling now. It was horrible. Pregnancy, labor, all of it. The children are beautiful, though. They really are. But I -
I don't think Lestan would still want me, if he saw me like that, She trembled. And I think it's happening. It's too soon. I'm too young. Whatever this was, it could not end well.
She sucked in a breath. I should have stayed in Kvarsheim. I should never have left. I wouldn't have met Lestan, and Tybault wouldn't have found me, and I wouldn't have ended up here. I don't know how I did. I just kept making decisions, and they all seemed like the right ones at the time, but now that I'm looking back and seeing them all lined up... I don't know what I was trying to do, anymore.
The funny thing is, She laughed tearfully now, regretfully. I'm happier than I was. I really am. But there's a difference, I think, between being happy within yourself and being happy with your situation. I wish I could figure out how to do both.
Talking, talking forever, because she knew Bjarna would listen even if she didn't fully understand. She knew she would care, even now.

bjarna listened, above all else.

she did not muddle her mind trying to understand the words she could not. she collected those that she did while she held reverie. her heart opened wide to all things now, even those things she did not understand.

that even if she did speak her words better, she still would not understand.

at the end of it all, there was a small sound in the back of her throat. like a knowing systir, but one who was not here to say i told you so. one who wished her systir had never come to this. the tangled mess of tears and long spooled words spun of not gold but seemingly overwhelming emotion.

she offered a kiss to her crown. soft and smoothing in its motion.

rest, she offered now. there would be no rush. the packs in the valley were intertwined and seemed to tend to one another in some way. she would fight tooth and nail if any thought to question her tending to what may as well be her own blood.

bjarna care. luhve systir.

she wished she had something grand to say that did not come from the short-faced mouth of a girl too young for all the roles she filled.

At the end of it she felt a bone-deep exhaustion; a realization that she could not go on like this. Reverie had resolved to stay for Lestan, even at the cost of her own happiness, but the goal had been his happiness. Was it truly better to stay and make them both miserable?
Bjarna soothed these hurts with words of love, and she made it seem so simple that it hurt. Mainly it hurt because Reverie knew it would never be so simple for herself. She was learning that the most sacred spaces in her heart often molded themselves to those who filled them, and in the wake of loss never quite recovered that same elasticity. Rose had been her sister, more than any of the others, and Rose was gone.
Try as she might, Reverie could not quite bend the empty space to fit Bjarna's slim silhouette.
Just as no one would ever take Lestan's place, even as he cut his way free of it in withered silences and achingly awkward mornings. I want to come back to Kvarsheim, Reverie said tiredly, tucking her face into Bjarna's plush fur. Not now. Not yet. But soon.
I'll learn Icelandic, and maybe we'll go on trips together, It brought her comfort to plan like this, when it felt like all the planning and hoping she'd done based on the promise of a future with Lestan was slipping away from her. Reverie didn't know if she would keep to these plans. But in this moment, she wanted to. We can see the ocean. Dance in the water. I've never seen that much water before...
Perhaps she would lose herself in it, and finally meet Mother Rain, if she truly existed.

now these words she understood enough.

come. kvarsheim. soon. icelandic. trips.

her features warmed. content to think of a feature where reverie was not plagued by all of this, where they could meet without hard feelings spilling into a million words. even if bjarna would always listen.

yes.

it was all she needed to say as she held reverie.

we teach. we see.

she felt certain of these things — and still wished she had more words. the kind that provoked imagery and emotions.

Maaaaybe we could fade & have a new one? If Bjarna could come to Swiftcurrent! No worries if not ofc

Yes. Reverie settled then, feeling guilty and relieved all at once. It felt wrong to have — an exit plan, more or less, but at the same time she could not help it. In some ways it felt as if things were already over between herself and Lestan, and she was just waiting for him to say the word. She could handle the end, truly, but the waiting felt like a slow kind of death.
I'm sorry, She whispered, because she knew that she was a terrible sister, if only for the fact that she had chosen Lestan in ways she could not choose Bjarna. How could she ever explain it to her? It was just too much like it had been with Rose, too much like memories that still hurt to recall. Even if she returned to Kvarsheim, Reverie knew it would only be the same as it had been before she left. She would be scarce. She would make her sister cry.
Maybe it would be better if she just left.
Reverie pushed the thought aside and only held Bjarna, falling into silence.

i will do anything for more of these two so yes and yes <3

no. no sorry.

it was a word she had come to understand and one she had also learned she hated to hear. so frequently it came in sad voices.

what a horrible word that held too much power if it made everyone so sad.

but now they could lay and rest. love could only hold them for so many hours before it was time to part. each one back from where they came.

bjarna's love did not lessen with any amount of distance.