Torvola couldn’t shake the sense of déjà vu that washed over her as she opened her door later that night to see Venera on the other side. How was it that even out of her fancy robes and dress, clad in a plain linen shift, and her hair down that she still looked so regal? Well … perhaps Torvola was a bit biased. Torvola stepped aside to let Venera into her chambers, remembering all the times before that Venera had paid her a late-night visit. Though, she felt that this visit would go differently than the ones before.
Torvola closed the door and turned to face Venera.
“I missed you at dinner; I hope you’re well,” Venera said.
“Yes,” Torvola replied, “I just …”
She trailed off, looking for the right words to say, to describe how she felt and how she was still feeling. There weren’t any that came to mind.
“… I wasn’t feeling well,” she finished lamely.
Venera furrowed her brow, and she began to look Torvola over, “Is your shoulder alright? Did you get hit anywhere else? Do I need to call for a healer?”
“No,” she replied, “No it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” Venera asked.
Torvola motioned for Venera to sit on one of the chairs, she noted that the nest of blankets and pillows that her guests had slept on the previous night were no longer there. She wondered if they had all found accommodations elsewhere — did Venera help with that? Torvola sat down in a chair across from Venera but didn’t relax. She felt tense and so very tired.
‘Just tell her,’ a tiny voice spoke up, ‘Tell her how you really are feeling.’
She knew that even after all this time, even after all she had done, Venera still loved her deeply. Torvola took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and tried to relax. She leaned forward and rested her forearms on her knees.
“… It’s hard … coming back here,” she finally said as she looked down at her hands clasped in front of her.
“Not because of you,” she added quickly and looked up at Venera, “It’s everything else.”
Venera nodded, “I understand,” she said.
A small part of Torvola bristled in annoyance — how could she understand? She was so damn happy after they had retaken the city, so damn happy she had claimed her place on the throne. Everyone celebrated that week while Torvola mourned. How could Venera possibly understand the pain she felt?
She felt broken. She had nearly killed Guin today and she wondered why she couldn’t have had that response that night on the hill when it actually mattered? She couldn’t sit still anymore. Venera blinked in surprise as Torvola abruptly stood up and stalked over to the window. She looked out over the city in the dwindling twilight, clouds arced across the darkening skies, painted red in the light of the sun that had just dipped below the horizon.
“We paid for this city in blood,” she said quietly. The red tinged sky brought back memories of the city in flames and of the blood of both her comrades and her enemies that ran through the streets.
“Blood that was willingly given,” Venera replied as she stood next to Torvola, “They knew the sacrifice they were making.”
“Did they?” Torvola asked softly though the pain in her voice was still evident, “Or did they only know of war from the songs of great warriors that the bards in their taverns sang?”
Torvola knew: No one knows exactly what they’re agreeing to until they actually have to experience it. No one knows of war, actual war, through happy songs of glory sung by the victors. To say otherwise would be a lie.
“If it weren’t for them … if it weren’t for you,” Venera said, “I would be dead and this land would still be under the rule of my father. A lot more blood would have been spilled if we didn’t act.”
“I’m not saying it wasn’t necessary,” Torvola said, “but it’s something I can’t forget or forgive myself for. No matter how hard I’ve tried — the war still weighs heavy on my mind.”
“You know,” Venera said as she rested a hand gently on Torvola’s shoulder. Torvola fought the urge to shrug it off, “It’s not a weight you have to carry alone.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Tell me what’s going on Torvola. Let me help you,” Venera was almost pleading.
For a brief moment she had considered giving in but she shut that thought down. To even think of what to admit to Venera caused her pain. She trusted Venera with her life but even she couldn’t bring herself to admit that she felt weak and broken; that she felt like she was no longer the warrior that had stood by Venera’s side and loved her more fiercely than she fought. Whether her reluctance was due to her not wanting to admit her own weakness to herself or to Venera she wasn’t sure. All she knew was she couldn’t.
She just couldn’t.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Torvola looked from the window to Venera, surprised by the hard tone her voice had taken. Venera let her hand drop from Torvola’s shoulder, “You weren’t the only one suffering after the war and you certainly weren’t the only one hurting.”
Venera turned away from Torvola as if she couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. She walked towards the hearth and looked into the dying embers.
“You left me,” Venera said – the pain in her voice tore at Torvola’s heart and she took a step towards the queen.
“Venera-,”
Venera turned so quickly that Torvola took a few steps back, her heart racing at the sudden movement. If Venera noticed, she didn’t seem to care at the moment; she was caught up in her own grief and anger, “My realm was in shambles and I still had enemies wanting to take the throne I had just won. If there was any time I needed help, needed support … it was then and you weren’t there! I wanted to help you and I had to watch as you turned me away again and again.”
“Because you didn’t understand!” Torvola argued, “You never understood!”
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked to keep them at bay. Her heart thudded painfully, her breath came out in ragged gasps as she fought to keep control of the rage, the grief, and the guilt that roiled inside her. No one could possibly know what she was going through and she didn’t know if she wanted them to. She was hurting, Venera wasn’t helping, and so she had to leave. Simple as that.
“You didn’t even bother to try and make me understand,” Venera shot back, “All you did was sit in this damn room and fucking brood. You barely said a word to me between the time we celebrated our victory and the time you snuck away in the middle of the night. You were too much of a coward to even say goodbye.”
Torvola finally snapped, “If you truly loved me, if you truly needed me, then you’d have come after me. You’d have sent your best men, your best trackers … damn it Venera you’d have rode to the coast yourself. I was out there for fifteen years and you didn’t even bother even send a fucking letter. I left you? You were the one who left me.”
There was a long, quiet moment where neither woman dared breathe as they stared into each other’s eyes. The pain in Venera’s expression was too much and Torvola finally blinked and looked away. Thoughts and emotions tumbled in her mind like rocks in a landslide, leaving her without any words to say over the chaos in her head.
“You aren’t the woman I fell in love with,” Venera finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Torvola looked up sharply, opening her mouth to say something, say anything to refute this. That she was still the brave warrior that Venera had fell in love with. She was still the selfless woman that would throw her life down to save the woman she loved. She was still the brilliant tactician who thought out every detail of a battle plan carefully, taking every contingency into account. Then she thought to that night on the hilltop. The deaths that ensued because she wasn’t ready.
Saxus cut down in front of her while she turned heel and ran like a coward.
The words she were going to say died on her lips with her resolve.
Venera stared down at Torvola, a look of disappointment flashed across her features as if she were waiting for Torvola to put up a fight. To prove her wrong. She let out a long sigh and with tears pricking at her eyes she sharply turned her back on Torvola and walked out of the room. The door slammed shut behind her and Torvola was left standing alone in the dark room with cheeks glittering from the tears that now freely streamed down her face.