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She flexed her hands in the hot tub, turning them about as her tendons twitched, interrupting her horrid reflection with a ripple of water. Distantly, Aelwyn realized she must be below her lowest weight now. She didn't feel accomplishment, or the usual pride of tuning her body so viciously. All Aelwyn felt was a dull pang in her chest and the worms in her ears, 'I'm sorry. There is a vault on the first floor. I love you. Have you come to rescue me? I haven't been a good sister. There is a vault,' listen to me, 'there is a vault on the first floor.'
She watched herself in her sister's mind, skinny and manic and just cool enough no one minded the stretch of her fingers towards the knife, there is a vault, "Who wants to play knifey fingers?!" to cheering blurry crowds, there is a vault, "Really, Adaine, must you be so childish?", there is a vault, "Are you fucking insane?!" "Yes! I'm fucking insane. You make me fucking insane!". 'Listen to me, there is a vault on the first floor, I'm sorry I wasn't a good sister. 'It's okay, we don't have time', there is a vault-' Aelwyn supposed she's the insane one now.
No. She won't make herself excuses.
There is not a vault on the first floor. There are comfortable couches and blankets strewn about, there's chatter and the varnish on the coffee table has been chipped, stained, repainted, then chipped again. There is not a vault on the first floor, there is no one watching her every move, and so Aelwyn has entirely lost her footing.
She does not indulge Adaine's "family dinners" of burgers and crisps and ice creams, she does not attend Fabian's post-duel smoothies, she does not exist when Jawbone or Tracker or Ragh or any other (un) licensed therapists in Mordrid attends mealtimes. Aelwyn Abernant is strong. She wears high necks because they're in fashion. Everything she wears is. She did not break in the tower, she did not show vulnerability to her sister some 16 years too late. Aelwyn didn't come about her well crafted reputation on accident, and she does not eat. She does not exist. Aelwyn Fucking Abernant is pure legend.
She does not miss elven waybread or fresh blueberries, neither at kept at the manor simply because no one has asked, and why would they? No one here is watching their figure, and the only other elf is her baby sister so uninterested in their culture or traditions. Aelwyn does not ask. She does remember to add up every calorie she secretly drinks in the Black Pit, and she does not trance.
Aelwyn is clever, cunning, and waits until Adaine's unconscious to go to Mordrid's "home gym". A pathetic name, really, just some weights and mats on the floor plus a few unwieldy machines. Aelwyn does not use a treadmill. She does not walk without purpose and her knees are not on fire as she moves to a stationary bicycle instead. She could use the toning. Her body's all out of sorts, it must be trained just so. No one is here to almost-praise her for it.
One hour. Two. Her knees are on fire, but she's earned it, she's done well. Three. She's a sweaty mess and her legs wobble. Four. The sun is starting to rise, so Aelwyn must say goodbye to a room she does not visit, and wake up in the bed above her baby sister. There is not a vault on the first floor and Aelwyn's mind is soothed. Adaine is almost out of trance. She squints suspiciously once she's awoken and opens her mouth.
Aelwyn fluffs her blanket out just to make her bed again, "Yes, Adaine, I tranced fine." Adaine hadnt spoken yet, but she has asked the same of Aelwyn every morning for the past few weeks. It doesn't take a genius to cut her off and shut down any unwanted coddling or "feelings talk". Adaine's the baby, not her. "Perhaps I'm extraordinary talented at dealing with all this," Aelwyn does not pause, she was raised to be articulate, and does not say what Jawbone mumbles about when he thinks she can't hear. She is not. That. "muck." Aelwyn walks away, quickly since she moves with purpose, not to escape and without aches, then hops in a shower before Adaine notices her dark circles or the sweat beading on her forehead. Also to use all the hot water. She is a bitch, after all, and always has been just a bit too cold.
Aelwyn Abernant is doing fine, and weighs 96lbs after a year she doesn't remember. She washes the hair that's nearly down to her waist now, and refuses to think about what's on the first floor or how red the water runs with Killian's blood. Not hers, never hers, it'd ruin her reputation and her family's in a way not even dragon spice or being something "incredibly toxic in a really sexual way, if you're interested" could.
But Killian's blood runs bright red down the drain, and she should get a haircut to not look a slob, and she is 96lbs, and Aelwyn looks over her shoulder for a tabaxi that isn't there but no one is left to scold her for it.
Maybe she did leave bits of her mind in that hot tub, after all.