litost [claire] [cw: grief]

[aelizia amity thornwood]

aelizia amity thornwood

march 3rd, 2023

it started in her chest.

the burning was a near ember, initially. it flickered deep in her consciousness, aflame alongside the festering frustration of existence in a world forged in loss. it nagged her as she went about her work in the order, so far shut down from her emotions that the pain felt like somebody else’s. it wasn’t her grief that made the mornings unbearable, where she used to find solace in watching the sunrise. it wasn’t her tears that burned tracks down her cheeks in the late hours of the night, when her home was quiet and there was no one there to hear. that was someone else’s burden to bear. someone else was strong enough to hold that in the same heart as she held her care for everyone looking to her for guidance.

each day was the same, in principle: work alongside claire and piper. be a leader. help those who could not help themselves. it occupied her thoughts so much that she couldn’t spend time on what she’d lost. because that was someone else’s pain, not hers.

in the center of her library, she pushed together three tables to make one large enough to hold everything she was working on. still, papers spilled over the edges as she bent over it all, eyebrows furrowed in thought. maps decorated one corner, with scratchings and markings to try and make sense of death and its pattern. communications were scattered across the other, readings the next- she was a visual person by nature, so she liked to see it all spread out before her. as the weeks had pulled on, it had become less and less optimistic a vision. she’d stopped trying to keep a count of the losses ages ago.

claire would be arriving soon, something she realized with a start once the clock in the corner began to sound. she should be downstairs, waiting to greet her and make sure no one else made it through her wards. claire was permitted to apparate in, either way, but it was good to be safe. the three of them – piper, claire and her – didn’t meet often in one place. it was too dangerous, and it left too many holes in their defenses. meeting like this, one on ones scattered in rare periods of semi-silence, were better. piper and claire had suffered greatly since the masquerade; aelizia was insistent upon standing in where they could not.

because it was someone else’s pain, not hers.

she grabbed her wand from the table and spun on her heel to make her way down to the foyer. the sudden turn made her nausea tick up again, but she swallowed it. she must not be eating enough again, that would be dealt with later. if her body wasn’t practically grasping at any opportunity to break down and hamper her, that would be fucking fantastic. the embers ticked up into more of a flame as she shoved up her sleeves and stepped again toward the doors.

unwittingly, her eyes caught a small photograph framed on a desk by the entrance to the library and a sealed letter, still resting alongside. her feet carried her there more quickly than she had time to refute the movement. perhaps it was the influence of the flame. gently, her thumb brushed over the wax seal keeping it closed. who had time to seal letters these days like this? ridiculous. she’d nearly forgotten it because of where it was placed; guarded by a photograph of a couple in love. newly married. happy. milo’s beautiful, carefree smile contorted her chest into this horrible knot.

her finger slashed under the wax and tore upon the envelope. she skimmed past the letter’s nonsense – the st. mungo’s heading, the greetings, the formalities – to the end, and searched for the one word she needed to see. yes or no. all she needed was the no, and she could put this all behind her. someone else’s pain. it had to be someone else’s pain.

her eyes jumped over the words until they found it, and settled. stared. she blinked, hoping it would change it – but the reality she’d been ignoring through the chaos and the clutter stared back at her with unyielding insolence.

the flame caught something deep within her, and aelizia screamed. she screamed with the weight of a hundred days of hidden hurt and pure, unfiltered fury. she screamed as she grabbed a book and hurled it at a mirror and watched the antique glass shatter to a thousand pieces. the rest followed in natural succession. she threw a chair at the wall and watched it bounce off, bringing down a painting along with it. her fingers twitched and a chamberstick collided with a stack of decorative books, sending them toppling with a plume of dust. she kicked over an ottoman. she threw another book against the wall.

it was only when she collapsed on the floor in heap did she realize that her screams had mingled with sobs, too. her chest ached, caught in hiraeth that had clawed its way to the surface. her face sat wet with tears as she looked down at the letter, crumbled and creased from being clenched in her fist.

the pain – her pain – was supposed to be somebody else’s. why, gods, couldn’t her pain have been somebody else’s. 

claire h. fernsby-alighieri  - angelica likes music

(C) ELLIE @ GANGNAM STYLE

[claire h. fernsby-alighieri]

Don’t stop
Trying to find me here
Amidst the chaos

The days, the weeks, passed in one endless blur that left Claire never knowing which day it was or what she ought to do next. The world had fallen apart and as a cherry on top of the cake, Gen was pregnant. All Claire knew now was fear. When she left the house, she became afraid that something would happen to her that would leave Gen alone. When she was there, she worried about Gen’s state. Without the resources she’d come to rely on, she couldn’t do much about either circumstance, much to her frustration.

The Order, as fragmented as it was these days, still functioned amongst the chaos. Aelizia, Piper, and Claire transporting people largely out of the UK or at least into a new shelter with wards. Calling anything a safehouse these days would be disingenuous- there was no longer any true safety.

Claire was to meet with Aelizia at her house, which still stood despite all those that had fallen around it. Milo had passed a while back, though Claire hadn’t known Aelizia to ever want to talk about things like that. Still, she knew her friend was hurting even if she refused to let it slow her down. Everyone had lost someone, it seemed, but to lose one’s spouse…Claire wasn’t sure how she’d go on.

She apparated into the place, just a few minutes behind schedule, landing in the front entry. Immediately, she heard a smash and a shatter from a room deeper within the place. Alarmed, Claire leapt forward, her leg roaring in protest as her movement bordered on a jog. Another loud crash from the same spot and a secondary one that sounded like wood cracking against the floor. A few further crashes before Claire reached the door to the library, panting with exertion as she looked upon the scene.

Aelizia sat on the floor, a mix of screams and sobs overcoming her as she hunched over herself. Claire felt the air leave her as it often did when witnessing such raw emotion. This pain ran deep. She froze for a split second, remembering each time she’d felt similarly distraught enough to throw furniture. What horror now had now befallen her friend? New ones seemed to lurk each day.

Claire cleared her throat to announce her arrival in the space, hoping not to startle Aelizia even as she crept forward, kneeling down beside her and placing a gentle hand to her back. For a moment, she was silent, just slowly rubbing the back of the woman who’d carried them for several months now. Claire felt a sudden guilt now, realizing that she’d let Aelizia take so much of the burden. ”What’s happened?” she asked after a moment, seeing the parchment in the other woman’s hands.

aelizia amity thornwood

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[aelizia amity thornwood]

aelizia amity thornwood

march 3rd, 2023

when aelizia felt claire’s hand fall on her, her mind screamed at her to shove it off. it begged her to keep pretending, to keep up the charade of composure that she had unyieldingly upheld since the night of the masquerade. there was safety in the distance. distance protected her from the pain that was supposed to be someone else’s; it made the loss seem impersonal, during the days when she needed to be what others could not. nights were often commandeered by sheer exhaustion, and the tears were wiped away like clockwork. aelizia had perfected the science of it. her system, as convoluted and suffocating as it was, had been working.

until now. she felt like a rubber band pulled just beyond its give, and now rebounding felt like a world away.

in spite of the screaming, she didn’t shove claire’s hand off. the small, minuscule bit of comfort it provided was the most she’d felt in weeks. that was one thing her science had not been able to account for: the loneliness. it was lonely to live as she used to, before milo had softened her heart and had the audacity to make her love living again.

claire’s question forced aelizia’s fingers to wedge deeper into the ball of paper. her lips parted to say something, and for a moment, she didn’t. her tongue when dry and she let it, grasping at words and yet falling short each time.

“it’s nothing”. “just a note. i didn’t think you’d arrived”. “nothing of worth to anyone but me. let’s get to the important work, shall we?” all responses she would have given if her heart would have allowed. instead, she laughed. the anguish wrapped around the barely-chuckles and warped it into a sick echo of what it was supposed to be. an astral experience, truly, to hear the sounds you were making but not have the energy anymore to stop it.

when the sound slumped into nothingness, aelizia took a shaky breath.

“i was supposed to be better than this. i used to be, you know. those first years at the order. don’t know if you remember it, back then. being seventeen, jaded, and alone made me unstoppable. no one could touch me, not even when i lost. i was a force to be reckoned with. aelizia joyce, who kept her father’s name to spite all he’d done to her by making it something else. i didn’t have time to feel because i was too damn busy being good.”

she shoved her palm up against her cheek, flicking away some of the tears. it was a symbolic gesture, at best, given how soon they’d be replaced. “then i met him. thought it wouldn’t go anywhere. and years later, i’m rolling up to a courthouse in a leather jacket and some white heels - that’s what i managed, white heels - and we’re married.”

aelizia’s fingers fiddled with the ring she still had on, as if she could imagine taking it off. no, it had become a part of her now, melded to her skin.

“he saw me. the only person who ever saw me, all of me, and loved me anyway. all the jaded and broken, all the spite and the rage. and they killed him. they killed him and didn’t even give me the luxury of-” she stopped herself and shook her head. “i can’t do this. i can’t do it alone. the person i’ve become isn’t strong enough for this. i’m not strong enough, not anymore.”

claire h. fernsby-alighieri  - angelica likes music

(C) ELLIE @ GANGNAM STYLE