Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Rue… Cerin… I’ve thought about everything, and I want to say I’m sorry.” 

The words tasted bitter in her mouth, like she’d had a mouthful of moss. Nella hated - HATED - apologizing. She didn’t like it as a kid. She despised it as an adult. And now in her older years when she had everything figured out and was living the way she saw fit, she loathed the feeling. Why apologize for who you are? Why say sorry when you know you were right all along? Why bother when you know you were right all along? 

It felt pointless, and yet here she was doing it. 

Something about these two little girls reminded Nella that manners were, in some cases, important. She’d been hardened by the world. She’d lived alone for years, interacting only when necessary. These two had only just tasted the cruelty of living as a Borrower, especially one outside, and she had unwillingly been dragged into this entire mess. There was a part of her that considered not bothering with the girls when she first came across them. It would’ve been the smart thing to do in terms of survival; but it wasn’t the right thing to do. 

Like it or not, it was a responsibility she had willingly taken on. 

So, here she was, making amends and hoping that she could find a way to compromise with the girls to move forward. 

Both of the youngsters eyed her skeptically, exchanging the silent glance well-connected siblings shared to communicate with one another, before looking back at her. It was a distrusting look, one with an intangible hurt that couldn’t be bandaged or willed away. 

“Sorry for what?” The question from Cerin immediately rubbed Nella the wrong way. It was a smart aleck move that she wanted to retort snarkily to, but Nella paused. Thinking about how these two grew up, their parents probably made them apologize for whatever they did instead of just offering a blanket “sorry.” The older Borrower ground her teeth together and chewed on her lip forcefully. Chapped bits of her lip peeled off as her teeth scraped against them. 

She sighed, collecting herself, before continuing. “I’m sorry for being so short with you two.” Each word was almost forced out. It felt like pulling teeth. Nella physically shifted to knock the words loose. “You two aren’t used to how things are out here. On top of that, you both have had a lot of loss, so it seems, in a very short amount of time. The fact you two are verbal and can will yourselves to move at all is crazy to me. 

“On top of that, I haven’t really cut you two any slack. I… don’t do this kind of thing often. I’m on my own. I like being on my own. You didn’t ask to be dragged along with me, but it was all I could do to help you two survive. So, let’s just go back a bit. I’m not really good at forgetting or… forgiving… but like it or not I’m the best shot you two have at surviving out here and I’m not about to just leave you two on your own. Okay?” 

The flickering pop of the controlled fire and the deafening sound of the pounding rain outside filled the hollow. Rumbling thunder and the crack of lightning echoed through the park, shaking the trees. The wind changed, spattering water just inside the hollow, before returning to its sideways trajectory. 

It was the youngest who said, “Okay,” quietly that allowed their conversation to continue. 

“Good.” Nella breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, this will work. “Alrigh. So, moving forward, we should set up some rules to follow - all of us.”

“Does that include you not being so mean all the time?” muttered Cerin. 

Nella’s eyes flicked over to the girl, who stared back in skeptical defiance. “If we have rules set up, hopefully I won’t have to be mean to get my point across. Now, rule one is if I tell you to do something, you need to do it. I can’t always answer questions or argue in the moment why my way is the best. Got it? Sometimes, like right outside the tree when I needed to get us off of the ground, you just need to trust that I know something you don’t and it’s a matter of life or death.” 

“How will we know the difference?” Rue asked, hugging her knees to her chest. 

“If I follow up with ‘do it’ in your so-called ‘mean’ tone,” Nella replied, hearing a hint of sarcasm in her voice. 

“Rule two,” Cerin chimed in. “Don’t be so mean all the time. We have questions and don’t know stuff.” 

“Fine,” sighed Nella. “That’s a fair rule two. Rule three, no complaining. Living out here is rough and there’s almost no chance of things being comfortable.”

“Can we change it to no whining?” asked Rue. “We had that rule at home.” 

“Yeah! I like that one better,” Cerin chimed in. 

At least they’re participating and cooperating. “Fine. That would probably go over better in the long run anyway. Rule four, if you notice something that I missed, you have to tell me. The forest is dangerous. The grasslands are dangerous. The water is dangerous. Everything is dangerous. I’m going to be looking everywhere, but even I miss things sometimes. Just because I’m around doesn’t mean you two can check-out and not pay attention. Always looking. Always aware. Okay?” 

The two once again exchanged that silent sibling glance, communicating beyond words, before looking back to Nella and nodding. “Good. Now, let’s get something to eat. It’s just about done.” 

“Um… ma’am?” Rue’s words made her skin crawl. 

“Ugghh… and that’s the other thing. It’s not ‘ma’am’ anything. It’s just Nella.”

“Oh… okay… Um… Miss Nella?” 

Compose yourself. She’s trying to be polite. 

She bit her tongue and sighed. “Just Nella, and what is it?” 

“Are… um… are you going to teach us how to do all that? The looking and stuff? Because I don’t know if I know what to look for,” asked Rue. Her voice took on the tone of sweet, bashful honey, if such a thing existed. 

“I’m going to have to,” she sighed, reaching up and scratching the back of her neck, tugging at the ends of her wet, matting hair. 

“Rule five should be no killing baby animals,” grumbled Cerin, and her sister nodded in agreement, but Nella shook her head. 

“I can’t make that a rule. If it comes down to surviving and starvation, I’m going to choose my life over the creature’s life. Age doesn’t matter,” argued Nella. “And one day, when you’re hungry and tired and on the brink of death, you’ll understand. This is one of those things that you will have to trust me on.” 

“But…”

“No buts,” Nella cut Cerin off. “I will… admit,” Nella flinched at the word. “That the squirrel was cute and that it was good to leave it for its mom, but you have to understand that’s just how things are. This isn’t inside a home. This isn’t in the walls. This is outside. ” 

“Is that what you told yourself when you killed the mouse?” retorted Cerin. At this, Rue nudged her sister with her shoulder, giving her a stern look; but her older sister continued. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He might’ve had a family or babies to take care of.” 

“And that’s the sad part. That’s life,” Nella argued. “He might’ve had all of those things, but I didn’t try to kill him first. Something, probably an owl, had snatched him and dropped him. He was suffering and I-”

“Wait… owls sometimes… d-drop… what they’re h-holding?” asked Rue. There was an eagerness in her tone unlike anything Nella had seen from the girl until this point. Both siblings looked tense and hopeful. They leaned forward closer to Nella, the fire illuminating their dirt smudged faces. 

One look and Nella had a good guess as to what might’ve happened to the sister they were missing. The heaviness of it rested on her shoulders. The constricting weight of ruining their hope, robbing them of what she could only guess was the hope that their sister was alive, made her sick. 

The way things are are the way things are. 

Nella’s features said it all. Their faces fell and mirrored the harsh shadows the flames cast on Nella’s aging features. The disappointment was obviously crushing. Tears softened Cerin’s eyes and Rue looked like her cheeks were outlined in light. Nella sighed and quietly added another few pieces of twig to the fire. 

“Here,” she said as she shoved the stack of mouse meat toward the girls. “If you’re as hungry as me, this won’t last long. Go to the edge and wash your hands in the rain. Scrape them against the bark just outside. Should keep everything clean. Finish two small pieces of meat, drink some water, and then wait for a minute. Okay? You don’t want to get sick by eating too much too fast and I have some berries for dessert.” 

They barely brightened at this news, but obeyed - following the first rule. Hands semi-washed and all gathered back around the fire as the rain pelted the outside of the tree, they ate in relative silence. It felt unwise, but Nella didn’t stop the girls when they went back for their fourth and fifth piece, especially when they shared one of the smaller berries between the two of them before crawling over to their splayed blanket. 

She didn’t bother stopping them. Some hardened part of her wanted to press them to work. Now was the time to show them how she filled her canteens. Now was an excellent time to demonstrate how to rig her bag for extra water collection. Here, they could test how to climb a slick line and measure how long the storm was going to last. 

But seeing them curled up together peacefully asleep within minutes of them curling into the blanket squelched Nella’s plans. 

Tomorrow. I’ll get them started on everything tomorrow. It’s only fair. I could use the help, but I promised not to be mean. Rule two. Curses! This is going to be an adjustment.