Chapter Text
It's an hour past midnight, and Miriam can't sleep.
Again.
How on Eya is she supposed to, really?
Kiwi just doesn't behave like themselves lately, if an entire month can be classified as 'lately' at all.
Somewhere at the start of this autumn, they just... stopped.
Stopped dancing.
Stopped singing.
Stopped being a bard, simply put.
And it's not just that. They've become quieter in normal conversations as well, as if they decided, at some point, to actively talk as little as possible. Their movements are as stiff as a board, too, even when they're simply sitting, or laying down, or standing in place.
All of this should be more than enough to alarm her, already. But no, no, there is even more. Kiwi does not want to be touched either, exception made for very few.
Obviously she tried to ask what is happening, what happened, but every time she brings it up, they just shrug, say something along the lines of "I'm good! Just a little sore." and then adamantly refuse to elaborate.
Miriam shakes her hands to the ceiling and hisses, "What in the damned hells does 'sore' even mean??"
It doesn't make any sense. There has to be something wrong.
As she lies motionless on her bed, arms spreading out, eyes staring unblinkingly at the darkness, another brainstorm starts brewing.
'Are they tired of being a bard?'
What?.. Absolutely not. That wouldn't even explain why they've become afraid of people getting too close.
'Maybe they just. Don't like to be touched anymore?'
Again, not possible, because it wouldn't solve the whole doing-bard-things dilemma.
And, yet again, if that were the case, they wouldn't have gone through the trouble of finding another way to greet her. A 'hand hug', as they like to call it, which is really just squeezing Miriam's hands in theirs.
It's like they want to substitute regular hugs, somehow. But why?..
'Do I, like, stink. Or something.'
Clearly her hygiene is not the problem here. Even then, they would have told her already, in their own way.
'Is it the stress of moving? Is that a thing?'
Building their new house did take a lot of time and effort, in hindsight. It wasn't them who built it, though. The baron paid for the whole thing to be assembled by a team.
And they didn't move all their stuff by themselves either, actually. Miriam and the villagers of Langtree helped them out, no questions asked.
Not to mention that they settled in their new home, like, a year ago. Why become stressed now?
'Ok. They are stressed about something else, then. Or maybe they broke a rib?'
Can't be just that. They never hesitated, when it came to telling her about this sort of stuff.
'They don't trust me anymore, do they.'
But then, why aren't they visiting a therapist anyway? They don't need her permission. Doctors also have the obligation to not divulge anything about the patients, so. If Kiwi wanted their injuries - or their troubles - to be a secret, it wouldn't even be a problem.
And she is pretty positive they aren't scared of hospitals, either.
After a month they should have gotten at least a little better. They did not.
They only got worse.
It was only a matter of, what? Days? Hours? Before the bard's friends and family started looking for Miriam and for answers. Everyone is worried for the same reasons, so obviously they all go to her, because she's the one person Kiwi trusts with their life more than anyone else.
Except that this time, for whatever reason, Kiwi won't tell her what's going on.
'Fine. Keep it all for yourself. Keep it safe. Keep it secret. Who cares.'
Eya, she does. When was the last time she managed to nibble more than two bites, to sleep more than two hours? How can she ever go on with her day, knowing that her friend is sitting somewhere, suffering in silence?
To add to the pile of her troubles, she feels selfish too, for wanting the old Kiwi back. She shouldn't make this about herself, and yet. Every time without fail, as soon as she steps home, she finds herself counting the minutes until the next meeting, until the next 'hand hug', whatever it is supposed to be, if not the closest thing she can get to a proper hug.
Which. As frustrating and embarrassing as it might be.
Is what she misses the most about Kiwi.
"Uuurgh... this is stupid. This is dumb." she should be focusing on helping them, not her useless, gross...
...feelings.
She hurls herself away from the mattress, snatches the pillow from behind her, and buries her face in it, shouting: "Why???" with all the air that can be evicted from her lungs.
Why, why, why must she be like this?
Maybe the whole situation wouldn't be this confusing, if Kiwi weren't so insistent in visiting her every day. When she can't reach them, be it by broom or by foot, they walk to her house themselves, doesn't matter the time or how bad the weather is.
She doesn't see that kind of effort for anyone else, not even for their parents. Why?..
If they acted... distant... she could at least make some sense out of it. She could at least understand why they won't divulge anything. She could at least give up.
Instead, they reserve all this energy to smile, and act as normal as they can, just for Miriam and for Miriam only.
It does make her feel a little less ridiculous for wanting to help them this badly, but... it also makes her feel...
'Goddess damn it all-'
What will it take for their stupid face to leave her head already?
'If they knew, they'd think I'm pathetic. Because that's what I am. Pathet-'
Her internal struggles are interrupted by the muffled sounds of someone climbing up the ladder. She doesn't even have the time to consider lying back down and pretend to be asleep - soon enough, her grandmother emerges halfway out of the shadows.
"Miriam, dear, are you okay?"
Miriam's arms fall slack to her sides. "Yes, 'ma." she exhales, "I'm just having trouble sleeping. That's all."
Sapphire strokes her chin, "Ah, I see." hums behind a pensive pout. "Because of Kiwi again?"
Hearing this, Miriam's face flashes hot, and her hands scramble to snatch the blanket and yank it up to her nose. Wha- what do you mean, again? How does she know?
Her grandmother smiles a sour smile. "It's okay, honey pie." she whispers, "I'm worried too."
For a long moment, all that can be heard is the cauldron fizzing downstairs, sending a faint glow, and the familiar scent of delphian herbs, to seep through the floorboards' gaps.
Miriam lets the bedsheets fall back on her lap. "Fine. Yes." she hisses through gritted teeth, "I'm worried. I'm worried sick, okay? And I'm trying to help. But- but it's no use, they will not let me, I-"
"Is it?"
"...What is?"
"Is it, it? Did you really try everything?"
"I mean, yeah." Miriam shrugs, "What else can I do?"
Saphy pinches her chin again and nods, before suggesting, "Stalk them."
"I already tried."
She wishes she was joking. But she really did get desperate to the point of following them around... if anything, it helped her discover that they are just pretending to be fine, because when she's not nearby, they don't even bother to try.
"In their house, too?"
Miriam's eyes shoot wide open and flit around the room, "In their-" then she hisses, loudly, "Are you hearing yourself??"
It's not the first time her grandmother suggests questionable, if not outright illegal, solutions to her problems. And it would be a lie to say she never gave one a shot. But, this? This is a bit much. How would she even..?
"How would I even pull it off?"
It's one thing to sneak around outside, in the open. A very different thing from hiding inside a building. Is 'ma going to tell her to dress as a lamp?
"Simple, dear." she winks. "You drink an invisibility potion."
'...Oh.'
For a second, she seriously considers.
But then, at the image of herself actually intruding in Kiwi's house, she shudders. If it were the other way around, no matter how much she cares about her friend, she would feel violated. Who is she to think it wouldn't be the same for them?
Miriam crosses her arms firmly against her chest. "I am not. Doing that."
"Hm. Ok..." Saphy slowly, very slowly, begins to descend back downstairs. "Then, I guess, tomorrow you should go sell the invisibility potions I just finished brewing for no other reasons..."
Sapphire continues, still on the second step, "They should be 20. Or 25, I'm not sure. Oh, well. No one will notice if one of them breaks on the way, or... disappears under mysterious circumstances..."
"Good night, 'ma."
"Good night, sweetheart." she is now on the third step. "Remember to tell the shop's owner, that one sip lasts one hour, hm? And to make sure he's wearing everything on his person before he drinks it, not after."
"Yes, 'ma."
(Will she just go, already?)
"Oh, one last thing." apparently, not yet, "To become visible again, you should pour some of it in another container and then add salt- I mean he. He should do that. Remind him, ok?"
"I will, 'ma."
"If you need anything, let me know, ok?"
"Ok, 'ma."
At long last, Sapphire disappears into the darkness.
About time. Miriam can finally go back to sleep. Or, try to, at least...
...
'...Should I?'
Might as well think about it a bit longer. She's not going to fall asleep anytime soon, anyway.
'Should I do this, actually?'
On second thought, maybe she wouldn't get - that - angry, if Kiwi did something this absurd out of worry. Desperate times call for desperate measures, she guesses.
'But it feels so wrong.'
They both did a lot of 'wrong' things, during their quest to save the world. Although, it was for a greater cause...
...Like this one. Kiwi is the world's savior, after all. Is leaving them to suffer the proper way to thank them? Absolutely not. Many other people would agree.
Yet another sigh. She pinches the bridge of her nose to try and rub the worry and frustration away, but all she accomplishes is making her headache worse.
'Alright, fine. I'll do it. Damn it.'
She falls back onto the mattress and forces her eyes shut.
Then, for the first time in a while, she prays.
Prays to Eya for help, for courage, for all this to end.
Eya listens.