#//He’s a fair enough man; he reasons. strongarms them; yeah; but also thinks it fair to give them smth back

[dutybcrne]

No thoughts, just Kae in that one corrupted/allied to the Abyss sibling verse I rambled abt a bit ago occasionally bullying Abyss mages into cuddles whenever he’s with the Abyss sibling bc Klee was onto smth when she called hers Mr Fluffy, they are the closest thing to stuffies he can have out there-

[inopinion]

hi! I loved your barrow family fanfics they are amazing! could you do a short little excerpt of 1. cal and kilorn coming back from the end of gs where mare gave herself up and telling her family what happened? maybe in brees pov?? and then cut to before they left to rescue her ruth talking to cal telling him good luck and them having kind of a heart to heart about mare and how much they love her? sorry its specific its been in my head for a while but i dont have the skills to write it lol

A perfect reason to expand. Thank you for this prompt.

The Barrow Family Chronicles (What was left behind)

Part 1, Part 2. (This one comes chronologically before those)

Tag list: @lilyharvord, @mareshmallow, @redqueenfandom, @anyone-anything-canbetrayanyone, @runexandra, @tiberias-vii, @mareshmallow, @adraxsteia, @wrenskonos, @scarletguardsource, @clarafarleybarrow, @morebooks-pls, @lucid-shinobi, @cordelnight, @redqueenforever, @naercxy, @juggyandbetty, @mom2reesie, @lamemathpuns, @artemishdp, @feeoly, @psychopath-butterfly, @caloresblood, @evngelinesmos, @magicpara-dise

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For all theabilities and powers we have on this base, trenching drainage ditches is stillbest done by hand. There’s a Strongarm helping, but she’s not that muchstronger than me. A little, I guess. We keep our distance from thesilvers. Though, she sure is fit and it’s hard not to watch her work.

Being busy surebeats letting my mind wonder. Mare left last night and there hasn’t been wordsince. It’s not unusual for them to keep things quiet, but it sure sucks forour family. 

There’s just a tonof rumors. As soon as the jet took off, tongues start wagging. It’s all theusual: they only filled up halfway; they didn’t pack enough rations; they weregoing to have to abandon some of the team to make it back. The latest is thatthey lost communication, that the plane went down. It’s all talk.

Three other planeswent out today and that has even more scuttle collecting. A search party, theysay. Some say they’re surrounded and need reinforcements. When they thought Iwasn’t around, one asshole had the nerve to say they were body collectors. He’sin the infirmary for the day. No one’s gonna make a joke out of my sister’slife.

.

The planes come backfew hours before sun-set. Something about it, the way they went so deepinto the hangar, I knew something was wrong. It’s the same way that we knewsomething horrible had happened when Mare showed up with Shade. They hadstopped in the middle of the yard, where everyone could see them. One adisplay, now this one is hiding. 

It’s not good.Everything feels tight again, like when Shade… Everything pinches and prickles.It’s hard to breath and hard not to breath so fast. It’s harder still to makeit up the small bank, to get out of the ditch we’ve been digging all day. Somecall after me, but I’m not in any mood to wait on knowing. I walk to thehanger.

Farley is there to meet them. She’s still puffy-eyed andstrained looking, still grieving hard for my brother. She and Mare had wordsbefore the plane took off. Mare’s had words with a lot of people lately. She’ssort of war-fucked at the moment. Seen it a thousand times and it’s still worsewhen it’s your sister fighting herself so hard. Farley looks at me and thenaway. I’m no expert, but that’s not a good sign.

“Barrow, you should clean up. Go home,” she suggests.

“Go home? No news for us?” I ask.

“Prepare yourselves, best you can,” Farley strides away from me.

Dead. Dead. Gone. To be in the ground securely buried. When fivebecomes four and then becomes three… the three have to wonder, “why us.”

At the barracks, mom is patching a stack of pants. Gisa movesslower on her own set of shirts. Gisa stops immediately, mom won’t look up.This is a disruption to our routine and that is never good. Dad pushes himselfover and reads my face.

“She didn’t?” He holds together just for those two words andthen stops himself.

I nod, it’s easier to do than to say what we’re all thinking. Soinstead, I say, “Farley said to collect ourselves. I’m going to wash up.”

“Tramy…” mom murmurs, setting her sewing down.

“I’ll get him,” little Gisa is quick to get away. Running usedto be Mare’s thing, but maybe we all have a bit of that in us. She moves fastout of the room and down the hall.

I follow but only to the washroom. I scrub the dirt from myarms, my hands, wipe the sweat from my neck. I dug a ditch today already. Ithink I have it in me to dig a grave. For Mare, I’ll dig that grave all nightlong. And that’s when the tears come.

Tramy has been tending the fields at the on-base farm. They growsome of the vegetables we eat in small patches. The weeds are constantlyinvading. Tramy moves on his hands and knees down the rows clearing the soil.It’s turned his skin dark and hunched his shoulders. If hekeeps at it, he’s going to be hooked as an old man.

Oldman… Tramy and I, we might grow old. We were all supposed to die. We tried ourbest not to, but out of all of us, the smartest are gone. How is that fair? Iwant to switch places with either of them, with both of them. Surely I’m big enoughto take their place. But that’s not how death works.

Idry my face and take long breaths, steadying myself. I will be strong for Gisaand for mom. I will be strong for dad and for Tramy. I will not break. I willnot break.

Tramyand Gisa scurry from the other direction. Tramy is pale and getting lighter ashe walks. He’s moving fast and barely breathing. I can see the dizziness strikehim. We let him recover on the floor, watch him vomit his nerves, and then wehaul him up.

“Formom, now. Steady for mom,” I remind him. He nods and pulls his shoulders back,attempts to be straight and strong.

Thewaiting is the worst. Mom is already losing it. She runs her hands over thesmall blanket all of us used as babies. Even if Gisa was the last, it was alsoShade’s, also Mare’s. Dad holds her hand and they cry then mom gasps when theknock comes on the door.

Kilorn,our sixth sibling, our cousin, our… family by choice. You get the family thatyou get and that is precious and unique. But then you get the family that youneed. That’s what we are to Kilorn, the family that he needed.

“She’snot dead,” he says before anyone behind me can see him.

Momcries in a release of stress.

“Thankyou. Thank you,” Dad murmurs into his hands.

“Warren, what is going on?” Tramy pushes past me and drags himin.

He is not alone. Behind him, the fucking Prince of Norta hoversoutside. It least he has manners enough not to enter uninvited. I move to shutthe door.

“Bree Barrow, you let that boy in,” mom intervenes.

If dad had asked, I probably still would have shut the door, butfor mom, I move to the side and he steps in. Our house is split. He and hiskind have killed too many of us and ours. We knew at the front when the princewas in command, they wouldn’t ever let us forget it. The number of reds dead onthe battlefield didn’t seem to matter when it came time to call it a success.Thousands died because of him. I almost died because of him. Mare has been drugthrough the mud and across arenas because of him. And dad shakes his hand.

“Mr. Barrow, Mrs. Barrow, I am,” he swallows, he struggles. Iwant him to choke. “Mare made a deal with my brother.”

“Her for us,” Kilorn finishes, hands on his hips. “It was thator they’d kill us all.”

“Well, that sounds like Mare,” Gisa growls, and it’s enough tolighten us and earn a chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s our Mare,” my dad agrees.

“What will he do to her?” My mom sets her jaw and grips dad’shand.

Her question floods my mind with deplorable options. If it’strue and he’s obsessed with her, would he… could anyone… I feel sick justthinking about how men hurt women. I think about torture. I think about thetraining the guard gave us that was more like telling ghost stories.

“I don’t think he’ll hurt her,” the prince says.

“You don’t think? Shekilled his mother!” Tramy challenges.

Kilorn pushes back on Tramy’s chest an forces him to give theprince more room. His head shakes and Tramy cows. The prince could light us upin a second, best not to start anything.

“Maven… I think… he, um…”

“He had genuine feelings for her,” Kilorn says and it hurts him.I always knew he had a think for Mare.

“At one time, before Elara finished her gut-job on his mind. It’sa bit of a screwy situation, but I don’t think he’ll hurt her. If what I thinkcounts,” Cal presses his hands into his pockets.

“Then why take her?” I ask.

“He’s broken,” Cal says. “There is no why anymore.”

Dad blinks. Tramy huffs. Kilorn drops his hand from Tramy’schest and just looks haggard, bruised. I guess, looking at the prince in amoment of stillness, he looks worse than anyone else in the room. His pale skinis bruised purple in places, his hair is missing in places and he has blood andsinge marks on his clothes.

“What happened to your wrists?” Gisa points at white bands onKilorn’s wrists. Kilorn’s hands come up to his neck where a piece of gauze liesunder his shirt. “Your hurt?”

“Burns,” he looks at Cal, who looks away.

“You need to go to the infirmary,” Gisa stands.

Kilorn moves like a magnet repelled. Her movement pushes him tothe door. She reaches out to touch him, he moves further away. Until he thinksbetter of the situation and stops at the door.

“Cal, you better get looked at.”

It’s the excuse the prince needs to get out of our quarters.When he lurches forward, hands in his pockets, he stops.

“I’ll get her back. I promise. I’ll get her back.”

The promise of a prince goes as far as I can throw a piano withme. But that’s all we have.

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