Faenil hoisted herself up onto the mossy ledge, staring out over the road and seemingly through the mountains.
"Are you gonna be okay, Faichon? You look like you're gonna cry." The child tugged at her elder brother's tunic, her bright blue eyes wide and innocent, standing out strongly against her pale skin and white hair. Her brother picked her up easily, hugging and spinning her around, making her laugh before finally setting her down. She wobbled about, disoriented, before ultimately falling forward and clutching at him.
Her shoulders slumped. She took a deep breath in, held it, exhaled. A goat trotted by.
Faichon steadied his sister. He knelt down to her height and kissed her forehead. "I'll be okay," he said. "I'm ready. And maybe you will be too, someday."
She shook her head and pulled a book from her satchel. Pretending to read wasn't so hard, but when a nobleman on his horse and his guard passed by, it seemed to be her only excuse for sitting around like that.
She stared up at her brother. Their parents had allowed her to accompany him this far. She had to turn back now, but not without her goodbyes. She found herself clinging to him, tears forming in her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her, looking at her eyes and pulling his sleeve over his hand. Gently, he dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "Don't cry, Faenil. Father will be here soon and I know how much you hate explaining tears to him." Faichon smiled, and Faenil smiled in return.
"Nínimdor isn't gonna go, too, is he...?" she asked with a sniffle. "I don't wanna be alone."
Faichon chuckled, and tucked a strand of loose hair behind his sister's ear. "Only if he chooses. And let's face it, Nínimdor isn't the sort of person to walk more than the distance to the lake and back." Faenil allowed herself a laugh. She knew her other brother wouldn't leave, and that was just the way she wanted it.
Faenil groaned, allowing gravity to take her as she lay back on the grass without her book. Theatre didn't interest her, anyways.
Faenil looked over her brother's shoulder, seeing their father in the distance, coming to bring her back home. It was too soon. She clenched her eyelids shut and shook her head as if dissenting, rejecting the whole situation. She knew her brother was going to become an initiate at the chantry, but she didn't want him to go just yet. She buried her face in Faichon's shoulder, felt him pat her back and still push her away, looking at the ground as if in disapproval himself.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see their father in his armor, kneeling down and muttering something to Faichon, to which he nodded somberly and stood, allowing the older Snow Elf to pick up his little sister, who, begrudgingly accepting the situation, curled in on herself in his arms, refusing to take a last look at her brother as he ruffled her hair and walked away. A sob she'd been suppressing broke through her tightly clenched teeth.
Subconsciously, she'd pulled her knees to her chest, closing her eyes and breathing slowly. Now she remembered why she didn't allow her memory to go so far back.
It was a while before Faenil sat up again, and it took more energy than she usually needed. She forced a breath out through her teeth, calming her nerves before taking her backpack and opening the largest of the two pouches. Inside was a rather well-crafted blade, small enough to hide in one's sleeve. Gold and moonstone. A present to her eldest brother from their grandfather.
She'd found it in the Vale, carried by one of the Betrayed. She almost wanted to believe he'd stolen it from Faichon.
When Serana had found her biting her lip with tears in her eyes, she understood why her companion was so upset.
And as her father carried her home, her last thought before drifting off in his arms was that she didn't want her brother to go.