Bonding Over Grief

Writers: Ames, Heather
Date Posted: 18th March 2019

Characters: Gaesyn, Trewlin
Description: The boys bond a bit while discussing their losses
Location: Emerald Falls Hold
Date: month 9, day 5 of Turn 9

"How come some people just sit around and don't have to work?" Trewlin
muttered under his breath. Honestly, he didn't mind his job. It was
his dream to work with the runners in a few Turns. It just irked him
that Gaesyn, who was older than him, never seemed to do anything work
related. He had looked up to the older boy during classes, but now
that they had been spending more day together, Trewlin's view of the
boy had changed. No one heard his mumbled remarks except a few of the
runners who were nearby for Trewlin was alone in the stable.

"Don't you want to take a break?" Gaesyn asked Trewlin as he carved a
sliver of wood off a thick piece of tree branch with his boot-knife.

He hadn't really noticed Gaesyn enter the stables. Trewlin shrugged,
"If I take a break it just makes the job longer. I'd rather just get
it done. The sooner I finish the sooner I can go in and help with the
runners, actually." He wanted to say something more, but decided to
hold his tongue. Lisadi had taught him to only say things if they were
nice. She'd _suggested_ that Gaesyn could help Trewlin with the work,
but so far that had not happened. Trewlin wasn't about to _ask_ for
help either. Reaching his arm up, he swiped at the sweat on his brow
as he turned back to the job at hand.

Gaesyn sighed a little as he carved another chunk out of the branch.
His normal friends hadn't shown up and Trewlin was such a goody-goody,
he would never shirk his duty so that they could slip off and do
something more interesting. "So Lisadi, she's not your mom, right?" he
asked.

At first Trewlin stiffened at the other boy's comment. Telling himself
to breathe and not assume Gaesyn meant the comment in a bad way,
Trewlin replied, "Yeah, she's really my foster-mother. She's all I
have, though," he added the last in almost a whisper.

"Mhm," Gaesyn nodded as he took the comment in. He knew what it was
like to be without a mother. His father hadn't even found them another
one. "What happened to your real mom?"

Trewlin had gotten used to telling the story. He told it without
emotion these days. It was easier that way. "We lived at Red Rush.
When the fire started there, mum and da went back in to rescue my
sister. None of them made it back out." He found his arms mucking a
bit faster as he tried to squelch the memories and emotions that the
story brought back. He _could_ control it. Trewlin reminded himself to
breathe again. He was glad his back was to the older boy while he
mucked out the stall.

Gaesyn glanced at the other boy and then down at the knife and branch
in his hands. "Yeah, my ma died, too. She just got sick, one day she
was fine, and then she wasn't. She got weak and frail and stuff and
then... " he shrugged his shoulders, "and then she died." He'd never
really talked about it to anyone.

Trewlin took another deep breath, trying to control his emotions. He
had stopped working, simply holding the rake in his hands. He turned
slightly and looked at Gaesyn. "Were you there when she," his voice
caught, "died? I mean I," he blinked rapidly, "have always wondered
what it was like in those last moments. I..I wasn't there. I...I could
have gone back with them and been there," his voice had dropped off to
the smallest whisper, the last coming out almost garbled as he
struggled through his emotions. If he'd gone with them he would have
died with them. So many days he had wondered if that would have been
better. Then they all would have been together. Trewlin lifted his
sleeve as though to wipe his forehead again, but instead used it to
swipe across his eyes. "Sometimes I wish I'd been with them." He
dropped his head at that admission. He had never told anyone that deep
secret thought before.

The older boy scuffed the toe of his boot on the straw-strewn floor.
"No, I wasn't in there when she died, my dad wouldn't let us. We got
to say goodbye but then my Aunt Avialla took us away from the room
while it was happening." Gaesyn glanced quickly at Trewlin from the
corner of his eyes and could see that the younger boy was emotional.
Sighing, Gaesyn tucked his boot-knife away and grabbed a spare
pitchfork to help pitch new hay into the stables that Trewlin had
already mucked out. "Let's hurry this up," he said a little gruffly.

Trewlin looked up, surprised to see Gaesyn with a pitchfork in his
hand. "Thanks," was all the boy said before he dove back into his
work. In no time, the stables were cleaned and the task was done.

Trewlin, who hadn't said much of anything while they worked, looked up
and said, "Usually the crafters let me work with some of the runners
if I finish early. Do you want to come with me? I'm sure they wouldn't
mind."

"Sure," Gaesyn agreed as he hung the pitch fork back on it's hook on
the wall. He wiped his palms on his pants trying to sooth the soreness
away. The teenager had never actually pitched hay before but he'd seen
it done plenty of times. It was harder than it looked, and the trickle
of sweat down the middle of his back told him so.

Last updated on the March 23rd 2019

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Bonding Over Grief