GOBLIN girl is SILENT in the corner of her room – fingers CURLED into her dress, tightly GRIPPING onto fabric like she could’ve SLIPPED away at any moment – could’ve DROWNED in the weight of her OWN, conflicting feelings. She’s VISIBLY haggard – eyes SUNKEN and red from a sleepless night of TEARS, lips BITTEN and freshly wounded – and she curls up FURTHER into herself when someone comes in, not bothering to LOOK up to see who had CAME in.
“..Maybe –” she CROAKS out – and she feels her chest TWINGE with guilt – the seconds she had DEAD again was MORBIDLY familiar; the SILENCE, the VOID of FEELING she felt in her body, the NUMBNESS of her touch, the BURNING, burning, BURNING of her lungs – and when she WOKE, the FIRST thing she did was to LOOK at her hands – see if she’d returned, see if she’s BACK –
But she DIDN’T come back.
“Maybe – maybe – I don’t know – maybe you should’ve just let me die. Maybe all of you – should’ve…”
She falls silent again – and she tightens her hold on her skirt.
“I – maybe I should’ve just – BEEN dead.”
for the first time since she’s met nott, she avoids her. angry at herself for telling nott to look for treasure that might not have even existed, upset with nott for not checking for traps despite the fact that she wasn’t even drunk -- and jester should know, she’s been keeping tabs for weeks. she collapses into her mama’s bed the second they reach the lavish chateau and, not for the first time since she’s left, considers staying there until she grows old and gray. when marion asks her what’s wrong, it takes everything not to tell her how close they’d come -- how close she’d come -- to not being able to save nott. how if the traveler hadn’t been with her, they would have come back to the lavish chateau & shattered yeza and luc’s world all over again.
sharp nails dig into her palms, her heart beating in her throat with yeza’s worried face in her mind as she climbs the stairs to the guest rooms, a courage she’s still not sure she has pushing her foward. she doesn’t knock as she quietly steps into the darkened room, violet hues finding nott almost immediately. it hurts her, like an actual punch to her chest, to see nott like this. she hesitates, a small pause, before nott’s voice cuts through the room and it’s different from any other time she’s heard it. it’s smaller than she’s used to, not as confident in ways that nott always seems to be to jester. tears she hadn’t even noticed had gathered in her eyes fall down her cheeks. she sniffles, choking back a sob as she lowers herself down to sit next to nott.
❝ nott -- ❞ she whispers through tears, taking nott’s hand in hers. ❝ how can you say that? i -- do you -- ❞ she stops, afraid of the question in the back of her mind, even more afraid of the answer if she were to get one. she wipes the tears that she can’t keep from falling with the back of her free hand, and swallows her words. ❝ what kind of partner would i be if i had let you die? when you have saved me so many times? ❞
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