Thalia is feeling rather blue, today.

They arrived back at the Little Palace not five hours ago, and they had already been set to work. Zoya was off doing her training, still fighting to be the best of the best despite having been at the top for quite a while now. She'd promised Thalia her company later on, but for now, she was alone.

   Alone outside of Zaria's bedroom.

She knew better than to put off going through Zaria's things. At first, she had thought that waiting a little bit longer may soften the blow. She might have been able to get through it without stopping or turning into a blubbering mess. It's not that Thalia is an emotional person. In fact, Thalia thinks she's the furthest thing from emotional. But when the wound is still fresh and you're still trying to comprehend what has gone on, it's tougher than it would be even partially healed.

She had gotten into the Durast sector with a note of expressed permission from General Kirigan (though it pained her to do so) and has been trying to work up the courage to enter Zaria's bedroom for the past half an hour.

At this point, she wonders whether or not it would be a complete loss to just. . . leave it as it is. The thought of else sleeping in that room is utterly insane. She'd like it if they perhaps just. . . left it alone. Left her bed unmade and her closet a mess.

A memoir to the life lost, if you will.

But she does not see that happening, not in this lifetime. Not with General Kirigan on her ass to get everything cleared out and free up the room someone new.

   "Thalia!" Ola calls, running toward her. Her purple Kefta embroidered with black makes Thalia woozy. Ola was a nice girl, one Thalia had talked to enough times to be qualified in making that judgment. But they didn't talk all that often, and she wondered what Ola could possibly want from her. "I was wondering if you'd perhaps like some help with clearing out Zaria's room?"

   Oh.

Thalia shakes her head, trying to keep neutral expression intact. "Er— no thank you, Ola. I'd think I'd rather do it on my own."

Ola visibly deflates. "Are you sure? I don't mind—"

Thalia shakes her head once more, "I'm doing it on my own."

It seemed that Ola had been counting on Thalia saying yes, for her shoulders are slumped and her aura has changed as she walks away. If this had been any other day she might've chased after Ola and tell her she'd changed her mind, but she can't. This is a task only she is suited to, and to drag anyone else into it would be morally wrong.

She takes a deep breath and squeezes her eyes closed, bracing her hand on the handle, and pushes the door open.

The smell she is hit with upon entering is almost overwhelming. It is utterly, unforgettably Zaria. It stunned her, how easily she seemed to have forgotten how her best friend smelled. Her scent was indelible, and yet, Thalia had failed to remember it only two days after Zaria's passing.

   Some best friend she is.

With great strength, Thalia cracks her eyes open, and is greeted by the bright light of the bedroom. She finds herself tutting on instinct, now remembering how she always scolded Zaria for wasting so much power by leaving her light on and leaving the curtains open.

   "But why would I turn it off?" Zaria had scoffed, affronted, "How else are my bears going to get a good suntan in while they read?"

Back then, Thalia had called her an idiot and got to making Zaria's eternally messy bed, but if it happened now, she wasn't sure what she'd say. Probably the same thing, but with a sprinkle of fondness hidden between the lines.

She didn't like to pretend that if had Zaria somehow been brought back to life that the dynamic between them would change. In fact, Thalia believed that they would probably have just gone back to normal. They'd have taken their time together for granted once again, and they wouldn't have realised until one of them was gone.

Thalia's body convulsed. She did not belong in here. This was Zaria's room, Zaria's space, no matter how much time she spent in it. It wasn't for Thalia to be invading. If she didn't think Zaria might be hiding something scandalous somewhere, she'd pack up the lot and send it off to Mrs Petrova for her to sort through. But, as she always had been, Zaria was unpredictable, and Thalia did not want to leave anything up to chance.

With a silent mutter of encouragement to herself and a prayer to her Saints, Thalia set off to work.

She starts with Zaria's wardrobe, sifting through her clothes and trying to get an idea of what belonged to her and what would need to be returned to its rightful owners. Her Kefta was to be returned to the Durast workshop, where it would be tailored to fit someone else or made into a new one entirely. She found the t-shirt that she believed to have lost well over a year ago- the exact one that Zaria had 'not seen for months.' She allows herself a quiet laugh at that. Typical.

After that, Thalia tackles under the bed and the chest of drawers. She comes out of that with dirtied trousers and nothing of value-- unless you count a multitude of empty chocolate wrappers and dirty socks as valuable, that is. Following that fairly uneventful task, Thalia works on Zaria's bed and the side table. She's about to set up the pillows when everything goes wrong.

Now, she had already shaken out the duvet and disposed of any rubbish that Zaria had left surrounding it (honestly, Thalia wondered how she ever managed to bed anyone with the state of her room) when she came across her undoing.

It was Milena. Zaria's teddy bear, Milena. She was Mila for short. For as long as Thalia could remember, Zaria had carried Mila everywhere with her. She took her to train with Botkin, to lessons with the humdrum Baghra and to dinner with their peers. From the ages of eleven to fifteen, where Zaria went, Mila went also. She had only stopped because they started to be sent away, and according to Zaria, Mila would get homesick.

An utterly stupid downfall. It was a teddy, for Saints sake. But it was a teddy that had belonged to Zaria, and now that Zaria was gone and it was only right to return everything Zaria owned to her family, Milena was all that Thalia had left of her.

The tears came before Thalia could stop them. Soon, she found herself pacing the room, Mila clutched in her arms, heaving. She couldn't do this. Couldn't clear out the room. Couldn't write a letter to Mrs Petrova telling her the news. Couldn't live without Zaria.

Her sanity has come undone. Gone were the days were Thalia had a healthy heart and a full belly with a smile that could've lit up Ravka as a whole. No longer was Thalia the girl who could. Everything her mother had said about her going far in life was a lie. She was a mere shell of a girl, struggling to keep herself alive in a world that had an unlimited supply of oxygen.

All she had now were the shards of a heart once unscathed, and they pierced her with every breath.