To live a life in fear is not a life lived at all.

Thalia recalled the day her mother said that. She had been eleven, hiding behind a large stack of hay in the farmhouse on Fright Night, attempting to slow her breathing and keep quiet. Uncle Dan had nearly caught her last time, and she would not let him gloat about it any longer by giving him win. He was insufferable enough as it was.

Her mother had been old and grey, her hair thinning alongside her patience. But Thalia remembered the image of her as if it had only happened yesterday.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Thalia," Mama sung, her slipped adored feet crunching on the hay. "Come on out, Thalia. You can't stay in here forever."

Eleven-years-old and brimming with preteen attitude, Thalia huffed defiantly, hunkering her body further back into the small crevice. She kept quiet as her Mama approached, eyes squeezed shut as if it will make her disappear.

Mama's voice had out again, "Come on, Little Flower. I'll give you some of my birthday chocolates if you give up now."

"That's cheating!" Thalia protested. Though the thought of her having some of her mothers chocolates excited her greatly, she was determined to win. "You can't trick me, Mama. I might be scared of the darkness in here, but I won't let you!"

Mama had only laughed, appearing in front of her donned in an apron with her hands planted firmly on her hips. "A life lived in fear is not a life lived at all, my dear. Now, how about you come on out and share a glass of milk with me?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

She thinks of it fondly now. It had been only a week before the Grisha testers came for her, and the only solid memory that Thalia could look upon without feeling as thought wanted to burst into tears. It was a time before she was bedevilled by guilt, before she walked with a constant weight on her shoulders.

A life lived in fear is not a life lived at all.

Often, Thalia found herself turning over that quote. Searching the words for any alternate meaning. Trying to convince herself that her mother was wrong. She could still live a fulfilling life while living in fear.

Fear of what, exactly? Her cousin Joni had asked that once, and Mama had simply shrugged her shoulders and said "Whatever it is you fear is living in your closet."

As a child, it had been monsters. She remembered waking in a cold sweat to find her mother seated at the foot of her bed, having heard Thalia's laboured breathing through the walls. She'd consoled the child, promising that there was not a monster under the bed or in her closet. The only things hiding there were her clothes, and the scariest part of those was the sleep gown she'd inherited from her Grandma Bertha.

She wondered what it would be like to confront her old self now. What could she, the new and unimproved Thalia, possibly have to say?

You fear that monsters inhabit your closet. I know that the skeletons of my past live in mine.

A rather depressing anecdote, really. Especially one that would be recited to a version of her who still cried over the ending of of Vanya, the Scientist with a Story.  It was not good to dwell on a version of her long since gone, but Thalia sometimes found she couldn't help it.

It was, to quote General Kirigan, damaging to reminisce on the past. You cannot move on to a new life when your soul still resides in a version of you that no longer exists.

Though she did not like it, Thalia could not deny that what he said was true. She, and just about anyone else, would not be able to move on until the shed the old them. So, that was exactly what Thalia did. She threw herself into mastering her ability as a Grisha, keeping to herself and avoiding the social scene that made her feel as though she was incarcerated in the Little Palace.

Everywhere she went, Thalia felt trapped. The walls had seemed like they were closing in by the day, that soon she would be trapped between them and crushed. She would become no more than particles in the air. She would drift past her fellow Grisha and infiltrate their minds, hearing their every thought.

That was when the whispers started.

At first, Thalia had tried to convince herself that she was making it all up. She couldn't possibly be hearing her mother. And it definitely wasn't her memory, either, because Mama had only ever been kind to Thalia. Her real Mama wouldn't dare utter the things that this one was-- not even on her worst day.

So it only led to one question: who was following Thalia Vassilieva, and what did she need to do in order to make them go away?

Even at seventeen, Thalia had yet to figure that out. She has tried. Even now, she finds herself begging for answers. When the wind sings, she answers back as if its second nature. What can I do? What do you need? How do I make this stop?  The wind does not answer. Instead, it only howls far into the night and tortures her even further.

She deserves it.

Tonight, the wind is being particularly cruel. She escaped from Mal only moments ago, her head spinning. She's been thrown into turmoil. She hadn't been anticipating her little (read: rather big) meltdown, never mind Mal's sudden appearance in it all. She was lucky enough to make it out of the stables without crippling to the ground, and she isn't sure she'll be able to put up the fight for much longer.

She had lost everyone who made her feel alive, so how long was it before Thalia lost herself, too?

If she hadn't been so adamant in escaping the vicinity of the stables and getting away from Mal, then she might've stopped to deliberate over it. She can come up with a conclusion another time. For now, Thalia has to get back to the Grisha tent before anybody notices her absence or Mal tries to follow.

She takes the time to recall the events of the past two days whilst walking. First came the thing that she is now referring to as the Mal Incident, where she found him in the tent attempting to steal a small bowl of fruit. Then came the second Mal Incident, which details the entirety of breakfast until the skiff, where Zaria was determined to uncover the truth about him. Then Zaria died, which mightn't have happened had she not been more focused on finding out more about Thalia and Mal. And finally, the third Mal Incident, where he had to save Thalia from having a breakdown in the middle of camp.

It's rather funny, really. How everything comes back to Mal. Dangerous, too. The world is caving in on her, and Thalia won't let anyone get caught up the rubble.

That's that, then. Mal needs to stay away from her, and Thalia, no matter how much her heart seems to sing when he is near, will do whatever she can to ensure that he does.

━━━

i'm in actual tears as i write this authors note bc i am at the top of both maloretsev and malyenoretsev and i cannot BELIEVE this shit that i'm reading. the love this fic has received is beyond my comprehension and i love every single one of you active readers so much. we're also #2 in jesperfahey, #3 in sixofcrows and #1 in eleanortomlinson ????? this is mental