Sometimes it was the simplest thing that could unravel all her progress. That could remind Liliana that no matter how she had bandaged and nursed her heart that under it all, she was still wounded, still broken. Even though she had tried to piece herself together as best she could, with bleeding and weak fingers.

A letter could summon memories she had tried to bury, drowning her under the tumultuous waves in her mind. This time it wasn’t a letter, left half finished on a desk, abandoned as she tried to futilely flee the memories full of sharp edges and bitter poison.

This time, her downfall came at the hands of her brother.

“Lili? Will you try these?” Alistair asked hesitantly after he’d knocked at her door.

It was close to curfew, and she had been distracting her ever sleepless mind with assignments that weren’t even due yet, trying to quiet the noise in her head with more words, more facts. Until the new information was so loud, so overwhelming, it drowned out the whispers and memories. To exhaust herself until the words on the pages swam in her eyes and she passed out in a fatigued slumber that would perhaps finally be free of the nightmares that plagued her.

Her time at the stables earlier that day had been a welcome reprieve, a distraction she sought and surrounded herself with eagerly. But now she was left without her distractions, left to the silence of her room and the loud screaming of her thoughts. She was grateful for the distraction her brother provided. His light always did frighten the shadows of her demons into hiding.

“What?” Liliana asked, noticing finally what was in Alistair’s hands.

It was a plate of cookies. She remembered he had his bakery club on these days. He had taken the club after her suggestion, but none of them had yet to try one of his creations. Alistair shifted from foot to foot, looking nervous and unsure.

Such a foreign expression on her confident brother. An expression that, no matter how familiar it had become, always looked alien and wrong on Alistair. Alistair was bright. He was warm. He was a beaming smile in the sunlight, a guiding light in the dark. Alistair was light, a sun made human. And the sun did not dim, did not shy away from the gazes of mortals. It was unnatural and wrong.

“Alright,” Liliana said with an encouraging smile at her brother, trying to reignite that flame in her brother, to make the sun shine brightly in the sky once more. To banish the storm clouds in his eyes that had dared to eclipse the sun’s light.

Alistair smiled back, still hesitant, but his eyes were eager as Liliana took one of the cookies from the plate. It was still warm and as she held it she noticed how cold her hands had become, now so obvious with the heat of the cookie leeching into her skin. Liliana brought the cookie to her mouth and bit into it. The flavor rushed over her tongue, filling her mouth. It tasted of smiles and laughter and loving hugs.

It tasted like home.

Like a name she couldn’t say, even after a year and a half.

“Lili?” Alistair asked, his tone dripping with concern, and Liliana realized she’d gone still. Body turned to frigid stone as tears pooled and overflowed from her eyes.

Her mouth was filled with that taste, the taste of home. Memories were dragging themselves out of the water she’d drowned them under in her mind. Memories of smiles, of tender hugs, and declarations of love and care. Memories of a mother she had lost, a mother she would never again see. Never again tell she loved, never again feel hold her when she felt like her entire world was breaking apart.

“It tastes like hers,” Liliana choked out when she finally swallowed the bite she’d taken, it sticking somewhere between her throat and stomach, choking her on the memories and emotions that suddenly felt far too big, far too much, for her body to hold.

“I asked Silas for the recipe. I’m sorry. I thought you would like it.” Alistair said, his voice wretched as he hovered close by, unsure of how to help his sister as she fell to pieces right in front of him, no clear monster for him to fight. Not when all the monsters were trapped under her skin, in her mind, clawing, grasping, ripping, and tearing.

“It’s good, it’s good.” Liliana murmured as she took another bite, a sob emerging as more tears flowed down her face.

The flavor was so familiar, so welcome, but it hurt, too. Yet Liliana couldn’t stop herself from finishing the cookie and grabbing another, chasing after the feeling of home that she had missed with her entire soul. A homesickness she hadn’t even known she’d been suffering under lifting ever so slightly, even as her heart bled and wept crimson tears in her chest.

Pain and comfort. Bitter poison and sweet healing honey. Love and guilt. Grief and a bone deep wanting, Liliana hadn’t been willing to admit, even to herself, that she’d been sick with. It was a whirlpool of contradictions threatening to drag her down or lift her up, and Liliana feared she’d be torn apart in the middle of it.

Liliana felt her knees go weak before she was sinking to the ground, her legs pulling up to her chest as if they could protect her from the pain that originated from inside of her. Alistair followed her down, kneeling on the ground before her, the plate held in his hands desperately, as it would protect them both from the feelings that were threatening to drown Liliana under their weight.

Liliana reached out a shaking hand to take another cookie, to try to fill her mouth with the elusive flavor of home, as if she could use it to shove the painful feelings and memories back, as if she could chase those happy memories until she could finally feel them without guilt and pain tainting them.

Liliana choked on a bite, a sob getting caught between a swallow, and then she was coughing and sobbing and choking and retching from all of it, her head falling into her hands as the cookie tumbled from numb fingers. She heard the clatter of a plate hitting the ground between the sounds of her own retching and sobs seconds before warm arms wrapped her up and drew her into a familiar chest.

Liliana felt so small as she let her brother tug her into him, so large it felt like he could swallow her entire form in his own. She almost wished he could, that he could consume all of her so she didn’t have to feel this wretched emptiness in her chest where someone had once sat. She felt Alistair shift them until his legs came up on either side of her. Yet another barrier between Liliana and the world that had done so much to break her.

Liliana couldn’t care less if someone saw them, sitting in the doorway to her room, her body curled as small as it could get while her brother wrapped her up as if he could protect her from all the pain that had her body trembling violently with the weight of it. In that moment, Liliana wouldn’t care if the entire world burned around them. The bite of flames couldn’t possibly hurt more than what she was feeling right now.

Liliana clutched desperately to her brother’s shirt as her body shook with each sob that tore itself from her chest, a pitiful whine emerging between them, the sound of a wounded animal desperate for its pain to stop.

“Professor,” she heard Alistair say, his voice rough and rumbling under her head where it was hidden in his chest.

Liliana couldn’t even bring herself to look up, to acknowledge the teacher that had found her in such a state. She didn’t care. All she wanted was for the pain to stop, for Alistair to make it go away, to hold her until the pain became something she could handle.

“Take her into her room. Others shouldn’t see this.” Vereign’s voice came out, uncharacteristically gentle for him. It was still stern, but there was a softness there that Liliana had never heard, as if he was afraid that if he spoke too loudly, too harshly, she really might just break into a million pieces.

Liliana didn’t have it in her to feel grateful for the kindness from the teacher she expected it the least from. She only had room in her for the pain, for the guilt, for the unending grief that was dragging her down, down, down.

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“Sir? But I thought…” Alistair said, his voice holding a desperate hope in it that finished his sentence.

“You’re her brother. It’s an exception we can make.” Vereign explained briskly. And that was all Alistair needed.

His arms slipped under Liliana, gathering her close to him as he stood, cradling her close to him as if she was some delicate porcelain doll that would shatter with a single jostle. Then Alistair was moving. A door slammed shut, the noise pulling a flinch from Liliana that her brother shushed with a gentle voice, a reminder she was safe here, always safe with him, as he moved deeper into her room. Far from curious and judging eyes that should never have seen a moment like this. Then they were sinking back down, Alistair settling them on the carpet of her floor, his back resting against a wall. The entire time, he kept Liliana in his arms, kept her safe, protected.

“I’m sorry, Lili, I’m so sorry,” Alistair murmured as his hand came up to stroke through her hair.

“No, no, no,” Liliana choked out in answer, desperate to let her brother know this wasn’t his fault.

It was never his fault that she was this broken thing that would fall to pieces with a cookie, with a memory.

“It tasted like home,” Liliana got out, her voice trembling and weak, nasally from where her nose had been stuffed with snot that was making a mess of Alistair’s shirt.

“Oh, Lili.” Alistair’s voice was a quiet noise of sadness, of grief.

Liliana knew he didn’t entirely understand the pain she felt. He wasn’t broken and shattered by the loss of the woman Liliana had known as a mother. He was hurting because she was hurting, taking on her pain as if it was the most natural thing he could do. As if by sharing the ache in her chest, he could lessen it, and maybe it did. Because while the cookies had tasted of home, Alistair’s arms also felt like home. Because to Liliana, home had never been a place, it had been people.

First Astrid had been home, warm, loving, full of kindness and understanding. But slowly Alistair had become home, too. Home was Alistair’s smile, his warm hugs that felt like they could protect her from every awful thing in the world.

Home was Emyr’s smirk and teasing comments that hid an undying loyalty and never-ending well of support. Home was Marianne’s laugh and exasperated voice. Home was Lelantos’ steady bulk, home was Nemesis’ scales wrapping around her neck, home was Polaris’ yipping bark and silky fur.

Home was all around her, always, but home was also gone, torn away by a jealous hand and a cup full of poison. And Liliana was sick with longing for a home that would only ever live on in her memories.

“You’re home, too,” Liliana finally voiced the thought when her sobs had calmed, even if the tears hadn’t stopped, even if her body was shaking like a leaf in a storm, barely holding on from being ripped away into the crashing thunder and wailing winds.

“You’re home for me too, Lili,” Alistair confessed to her, pulling her tighter against him. As if he could squeeze all the pain out of her, like lancing a wound and letting the infection drain out.

“Thank you,” Liliana whispered, her voice wrecked from the sobs, dry from the liquid she’d lost, soaked into Alistair’s shirt.

“For what?” Alistair asked with a dry laugh, his own voice still thick with his own tears.

“For giving me a memory of home,” Liliana said softly, her voice trailing off into a whimper.

Alistair hummed quietly, not replying, and for a while they sat in silence as Liliana’s tears finally stopped falling, but neither moved from where they were.

“How long?” Alistair finally asked.

Liliana contemplated playing stupid, pretending she didn’t understand what he was asking, but she didn’t like lying to her brother. There were enough lies between them, a mountain of her own making Liliana feared she’d never be able to clear. She did not need to add another lie to it.

“Always. The pain is always there. Sometimes I can ignore it. Sometimes I can’t,” Liliana finally said, her words a sigh, a soft confession almost lost in the noise of their breaths.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Alistair asked, his voice hurting for her, for the nights she’d spent alone, trapped in her own mind, drowning beneath the waves of her pain.

“I didn’t want to burden you with it,” Liliana confessed as she moved her head to rest her cheek against his shoulder, trembling fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.

“Lili, you’re never a burden to me. You’re my sister. Please, don’t try to do everything alone. You’re not alone. Not anymore, never again.” Alistair begged, his arms tightening around her as if they could remind her she wasn’t alone anymore.

Liliana knew she wasn’t alone, but it was still so hard sometimes to reach out, to ask for help, to ask others to see her at her weakest, her most vulnerable. To trust someone with the broken shards of her heart and hope they treated them with the care they needed, to trust they’d help her piece herself back together and not break her down again. Trust did not come naturally to Liliana. It was something hard won and easily lost.

“Lili, you’re loved. So loved. Just let us, let me help you. Let me in.” Alistair asked, begged, pleaded with her, and she shut her eyes on the enormity of it. On the request he was making, because Alistair was asking her to let him see all the nasty, wretched and shattered parts of her she had tried so hard to hide from the world.

He was asking her to be weak, to let herself fall and trust he would be there to catch her when she did. Asking her to trust him to be strong when she was weak, a single port in the storm for her to return to, to cling to when it felt like she would be swept out to sea.

“Alright,” Liliana said. The word dragged from her heart, from her lungs and mouth, with monumental effort. It took everything she had to say that single word, to finally break down some of the last of the barriers she had erected to protect herself, to finally let Alistair in, further than she had ever allowed another person. Where he could either help her heal or destroy her once and for all. It was terrifying, it was comforting, it was freeing, it was everything and nothing and wholly too much.

Not all her barriers were down, not all her sins, her pain, had been laid bare. She still had her lies, her secrets, wrapped around her as a protective armor. Things she wouldn’t even let herself think on, let alone tell another person of. She was letting him see her weak; she was trusting him, and even if it wasn’t everything, it was enough. It would be her salvation or her destruction.

“Thank you. I’m here, Lili. I’ll always be here, no matter what. I’ll be here.” Alistair promised her, understanding without words the magnitude of her single word, understanding that she had just let him further in than she had any other being save her bonds.

This was somehow more profound than that, for her bonds were tied to her soul. They could no more hurt or betray her than they could rip their own hearts out. But Alistair was not bound to her soul through magic, he was bound only through his love and that felt both unbreakably strong and unbearably fragile a thing to place her trust in.

“Home,” Liliana said softly, her hand twisting in his shirt as she pressed herself closer to him, seeking the warmth Alistair always seemed to exude, hoping it could thaw the ice in her veins and teach her what it felt like to walk in the sunlight again, hoping it could banish the shadows and nightmares that were always clinging to her, dragging her down, under the waves to drown.

“Home, always.” Alistair promised her, resting his head on top of hers, his gentle breaths and thumping heart a lullaby that lulled her into a sleep that, for once, for the first time in years, wasn’t tainted by nightmares.

When Liliana woke up to the brightening of her mage lights, the alarm of the Academy, for the first time not clawing herself out of nightmares into the dark of pre-dawn, she was still pressed against her brother, but they had been moved.

Her bonds had respected their privacy, their moment, but when the two children had fallen asleep, they’d come to them. Alistair had been moved to lean against Lelantos, who had curled his body around them both, a bulwark against the world, his bulk a wall that almost entirely surrounded them. Where Lelantos didn’t cover, Polaris did, his wings stretched out until Liliana could see nothing but a nest of black wings and silver fur and iridescent stripes. Nemesis, in her smaller form, had wrapped around them both, her scales warm and heavy against their necks. Liliana was surrounded by warmth, arms, limbs, and fur.

Home.

Home.

Home.

The words were all she could think, all she could feel when she awoke from the deepest, most calm sleep she’d had in years. She was home, here on the floor of a room, surrounded by warm bodies that had taken up guard while she and her brother slept, protecting them when they were at their most vulnerable, hiding their pain from the world that would turn it against them.

Home. Something in Liliana loosened, a pain easing, a wound finally closing and scarring over. A hurt in her finally fading away into memory, and for the first time in over a year, Liliana felt a name rise in her mind that didn’t come with the heavy weight of guilt and agony.

Astrid. The name, so familiar but until today anathema to Liliana. A name she couldn’t say, a name that had tasted like ash and acid on her tongue, like a knife in her heart, twisting and shredding her until she was bleeding out.

But today, that name tasted like home on her tongue, felt like a warm smile and a loving hug in her mind. For the first time, the ache in her heart was almost sweet. Liliana knew she wasn’t healed, wasn’t better. But she no longer felt like she was a collection of open wounds hiding behind a strained smile. Her chest felt empty, but full, cold and warm, full of contrasting feelings, bitter and sweet, painful and comforting. Something was still lost, would forever be lost. A wound turned into a scar would still be a wound. But there were things found, pressing on the edges of her heart, holding the wounds closed with warmth and love.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy, this path towards healing, towards progress, but as she blinked into the morning light, for the first time in over a year feeling the sunlight on her, she thought she might really be able to heal. In this home she had made for herself, with this family she had found.