Eight Intertwined

180 - Grief

Once Ophilia woke up, the travelers slowly but surely drifted out of the inn and into the rest of Goldshore. Their plans had changed drastically over the course of the last few hours, and they needed to prepare for it as soon as possible. The group's next destination was Wispermill to reclaim the Ember. That much wasn't even a question. They needed to help Lianna and get the Ember back, and the only way they could do that was charting a course for the northernmost Flatlands town to set everything right. 

Primrose had a lot to prepare for going forward, but she couldn't bring herself to leave the inn. She had been left as the only one with Ophilia, and it wouldn't have been right for her to leave the cleric behind during such a horrible time. Ophilia hadn't spoken much of what she had been through with her sister, but Primrose could guess it easily enough. She had figured out what news Lianna was planning on delivering the instant she arrived at the cathedral. Ophilia's father had passed, and Ophilia was coping with not only her sister betraying her, but the loss of the father figure she had set out on this journey for in the first place. How could Primrose leave Ophilia behind with something like that so fresh in both of their minds?

As selfish as it sounded, Primrose knew she had to stay with Ophilia because she had been left alone after her own father died. If Primrose had a proper support system, she likely never would have succumbed to the bitter anger that had controlled her life for the last decade. There was no one who could have truly helped her after Geoffrey's murder, especially since she was there to witness his killing, but Primrose knew that having someone to talk to about it would have helped. As long as she was on the ground just after Ophilia had found the truth, Primrose wasn't going to leave Ophilia on her own. For the sake of her past self, Primrose couldn't abandon Ophilia to her own thoughts and terrors. 

That didn't mean Primrose knew how to approach the subject yet. She had been trying to work up the courage to say something to Ophilia for the better part of an hour, but the passage of time didn't help her in the slightest. If anything, it only made her more anxious. Primrose tapped her finger against her leg, sneaking in a glance up at Ophilia. How could she start a conversation like this? How could anyone approach a subject that hit them both so hard? Primrose couldn't leave Ophilia behind, but she couldn't start talking without thought or care either. 

In the end, Primrose gave up on trying to curate her words perfectly and just let herself speak. "How are you feeling?" It was a poor way to start the conversation, and it didn't even begin to express the grief Primrose knew Ophilia was experiencing, but it was all she could think of to say. Primrose couldn't just ask what had happened for Ophilia to end up collapsed on the ground. The picture was easy enough to put together, and Primrose didn't want to push her as long as she wasn't ready to talk. 

Ophilia stared up at the ceiling, too afraid to look over at Primrose directly. "Bad." She pressed her fingers together, and Primrose could tell by the look on her face that she was overly aware of the fact that she hadn't gotten her gloves back yet. Primrose dug one hand into her bag and passed Ophilia's gloves back to her. Primrose had washed them while Ophilia was asleep, and the blood was entirely gone from them now. Ophilia finally looked up at Primrose once the gloves were in her hands, and she cast the dancer a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Thanks."

Primrose nodded as Ophilia slid the gloves over her arms once again. As soon as the gloves were on her hands, Ophilia stared at her palms, blinking so slowly and infrequently that she barely seemed to realize she was awake. Primrose couldn't decide if she was supposed to watch Ophilia or look away, so she split the difference. It wasn't perfect, but in a situation like that, nothing could be. 

"Lianna gave these to me, you know."

Primrose finally let herself look at Ophilia, and she saw the cleric staring into the dark folds of the gloves like she thought they would give her the answers she had been chasing all day. "It was a few years ago," Ophilia replied. "She wanted me to have a better set of gloves to deal with the cold. I had been wearing the white ones for a long time, but they weren't as warm as these. She thought it would be better if I had more protection." Ophilia let her hands fold over her chest with a heavy sigh. "I didn't ever think this would happen. I thought I knew Lianna, but..."