#so now u know why theres no jewel in their og setting uwu

[evilevilevilnotevilevilagain]

Zotating KA in my brain as usual,,, so I wrote something about them... a bit of their Sundering Lore in very vague confusing terms. But I had fun writing it up.

(repost cus I forgot you can just Do That on tumblr n post long shit directly into it. For ur convenience, enjoy.)

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The cut splitting your lips is healing well and you are glad, so glad, because it is the last one.

“Was that really so difficult?”

He’s amazed it took so long, but he never gave up on you. He’s so nice to you now, sticky-sweet, don't-leave-me-with-these-animals kind of clingy- you heard him say it once, to a friend, when he thought you were asleep.

You’re really his now, he lets everyone know. You’re real proud of the fact; real proud even when Gnat beats you bloody again. She’s just jealous, so you don’t get mad. You’re so good at not getting mad anymore. Not good for the baby, so you watch yourself. Just enough not to break something back. Gnat’s taller than you, her kicks sting real bad, but you think if you were mad enough… She better watch herself, you tell her drooling blood and stomach acid onto cobblestone. She makes some kind of joke, but you know women only think of themselves- she’s only hurting you because she cannot have you. People do it all the time. You’re a hot commodity, you've got a whole bright life ahead of you. He says you’re all one big family, but he’s the only family you need. Too many voices just serve to confuse you when they’re all telling you their own truths. You know it's all derivative, interpretations of the one grand source- and he purrs them straight into your ear every night.

Twenty years later Orwell tells you “You know how I knew?”

You don’t remember coming to his room, or the crying, or the whole-body-tremor desperation when you’d told him how scared you were that it might be a girl.

But he’d listened and he’d schemed, and all his great plan ever did was leave you all alone to fend for your own self.

Gnat, when you see her again, outlines the path of your life as follows: parasite, cockroach, rat, breeding stock, herd dog.

She’s sorry at least for all the times she personally was the cause of your suffering. “He only told me to do it the first time, the rest was all me.” We all wanted to be special. Never really about you. Take it as you will, never really a compliment to be his favorite, should’ve seen him for what he was, should’ve saved you. You don’t need saving of course. Never did. You saved yourself. After all these years, you’re still doing it.

You don’t like the sound of Jewel’s name on her tongue, but it doesn’t stop her from saying it. His name is the only thing you like about him. It’s too soon, you’re not ready, you only just now started letting him in-

“The whole family was robbed of him,” she says, “when those aristocrats took you for their broodmother.” She has her own ideas of what your arrangement must have been.Though you recall with disgusting clarity the one sharp moment that Anna-Marie found you painting and rushed to rub your swelling abdomen while cooing “How delightful! He’ll be talented, too, won’t he?”

Every flake of individuality you ever exhibited cataloged away as favorable traits with set probabilities of showing up in the next generation. You felt like a great big pampered cow, but Gnat doesn’t need to know how right she is. She's wrong about so much of the rest of it. End of the day, you chose this. You signed the papers. You closed your eyes when you heard the first scream and didn’t open them again until they were all out of the room.

Then she lets you know he was in on it. But then he had that deal with you on the side. Orwell wanted you looked after, but they were all too far away -too dangerous to come back in so soon. And you were so fragile after It happened. But the Commander took you, and then he took your son. You still remember the dazed shock of being dumped at a spacious, yet entirely empty room at the back of the Watchguard barracks, body raw, lying on a cot all alone in the dark, discarded the moment they got what they wanted.

You had the rank, but nobody in the Watch even knew you. You had to fight to earn their respect, make them listen to you, even when you could barely stand. It brought the anger back. Not just pregnancy hysterics, this was you all along. You didn’t keep it in check anymore. Not restraining yourself spelled the difference between life and death.

“He was supposed to look after you.” He never answered Orwell again and he’d thrown you right into the thick of it, the one place your brother could not reach you.

After everything it's that realization that hurts the most. You had always respected the Commander for having done so much for you. It’s the same pattern, only each time it gets uglier, less coherent. Another boot you’ve prostrated yourself under with a smile. The thought makes you sick.

When he had come back, he hadn’t been thinking of what's best for you, killing Nadine was only getting rid of the competition. Nobody wanted that, to be fair. You cannot visualize yourself anywhere else but here, though at one time you had believed her. But it’s another command put in your head- the desire to leave was never really yours. You’ve never wanted to leave anything, anyone.

Gnat says they’re ready to welcome you back, but you still have to convince Orwell. Something about you the last time he saw you had made him cautious- maybe it had opened up the old wounds- and now he needs you to prove yourself before you can be let back into the fold.

“Consider it a very late abortion,” Gnat’s horse-toothed grin leers back at you,” it has to be worth the sacrifice.”

After all, it took nearly all of Him to put you back together. The least you could do is pay back the difference.

“Let him know he has a family that wants to meet him. Tell him he can be a part of it.” Who knows, maybe there’ll be enough left over to even give you something special, too.

You’re left there at the old bone well considering your options, though there aren’t many. One loathsome thought drifts above them: You want Jewel to live. This complicates things.