This was written for Aromantic Writing Month over on tumblr, using the prompts 'subverting romantic tropes' and 'friendship'. It takes place in the D&D au of my primary novel project and is a short, semi-philosophical piece where Fiera, our pov character, mulls over lost memories and her aromanticism (which she has no word for currently) with the help of her faux-boyfriend, Kadri.
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Cold. Distant. That’s what the others had always called her, in whispers that faded down the corridors, in offhand remarks that begged judgement be met with indifference. Ever since she had awoken surrounded by cold ruins, vague images and feelings told her that whoever she had been, she had been unwanted, and decided to become an anthropologist. They admired her skill in spell casting and dedication to her cause, but questioned her work, and refrained from getting too close. They doubted a high elf lacking the famed fair complexion could advance at such a rate without deception. They thought it undignified to spend so much time studying the cultures of ‘lesser’ species.
But it was well enough that they did not want to spend time with her. She did not very much want to spend time with them either. They were narrow minded and could tell her nothing of her missing past. They gossiped about her ‘lack of love’ despite their own callous indifference towards her. It was enough to simply know how they thought, and how to best maneuver them to make her life easier.
It was also, she had to admit, more convenient for her current study that she not have much to lose in regards to relationships, as she was currently committing an unwritten social taboo simply to see what changes it might or might not have in the long run: she was ‘dating’ a drow elf.
The bitter, hated enemy of her people, so often described as ruthless killers and amoral abominations, as nature’s greatest mistake. She had often wondered if the drow were half as vile as the stories told, but after having met one it seemed more likely the hatred came from an old grudge allowed to fester, the separation of their countries making outlandish exaggerations difficult to disprove. A high elf being a partner to a drow elf was unheard of, and she had just enough status to see the effects of such a scandal.
The drow elf in question, who now lead her down a street gently by the arm, was a fellow by the name of Kadri. They had met quite by chance at a library, when she was knocked down a staircase and nearly took him down with her. Things were sorted out, and she had immediately wanted to interview him despite her own nervousness once realizing what he was. It took some persuasion, and the promise to make the interview a two-way one (she felt she was enormously fortunate that the first person from her sworn enemy’s country was a scholar such as herself), but she got to spend the day conversing with him. Despite the clear distrust he held towards her and his barely concealed agitation, it proved to be one of the more amiable and fascinating conversations she’d ever had. He answered questions thoroughly and with a frank wryness, and asked thoughtful questions in return.
During the next two weeks they met up every day to talk more, and typically ended up conversing for hours on end. They were both frank with their prejudices, though she felt them growing more at ease as time went on. She learned Kadri was a warlock, sworn to serve the demon Kir’giren after they saved his life when he was a child, and was disappointed but unsurprised to learn he had suffered several times at the hands of her people. She told him about her fractured memories, and of her time spent with the sea elves.
By the time Kadri had to depart to serve his master on some quest, she was surprised to find that she was missing his company. She didn’t tend to miss people, if anything she felt more at ease when she alone in her house. Usually the only feelings of longing she felt were in connection to her mangled memories, the faces she could recall but not quite put into context. She definitely couldn’t call the feeling she had love, if she had to guess she probably missed the intellectual challenge of working with someone so different and so on edge.
Regardless of the cause, she determined that if ever they crossed paths again, they would speak at length. That was when she realized that he would actually be perfect for an experiment that she had had in mind for some time, if he could be persuaded. Suffice to say, they did cross paths again, she did manage to persuade him to fake being her partner for up to six months, and they had now been living together and pretending to date for a little over a month. And the initial reaction of her people was horrified confusion as she and Kadri had expected, but over the weeks, opinions started to become more varied. Some applauded their bravery, others thought Kadri had cruelly put her under an enchantment, and some thought this was the final proof that she was a willful traitor and could never be trusted.
Just walking down the street as they were now, people were glancing and glaring at them, some people hurried to get out of their presence, others stared and whispered to their neighbors. They were walking through the city square, browsing some shops before looking for a place to eat.
“Are your thoughts happy, Fiera?” Kadri asked, snapping her out of her reverie.
“Huh? Oh, I was just reminiscing a bit. So perhaps bittersweet is a better descriptor. Why, did I look happy?” she asked.
“You looked contemplative. Are your contemplations ones you’d wish to share?” he said. Fiera turned to look at him properly. Even now he insisted on keeping his hood up in public, and his eyes were watchful, but underneath the wariness he did seem genuinely curious.
“I suppose…if I may ask, what do you think of love? I promise it’s relevant,” she said. Kadri seemed only slightly taken aback by the question; one of the first things she had told him before agreeing to the experiment was that she would never love him, and if he fell in love with her then that was his own problem to deal with alone, so he already knew the subject was one she had given thought to. He gave the question a moment of thought before answering.
“If anything, I think it is something I understand very poorly. I claim only to love Kir’giren, but that is truthfully a wild oversimplification. I know it drives others in equal parts to great acts of generosity and great acts of cruelty. I know there is very little agreement, between individuals or between groups, what exactly ‘true’ love is, and yet they at the same time take for granted that people will recognize it with ease and react accordingly. I have read enough to have some idea what most people see as loving actions, and that it is associated with attachment. But that is where my knowledge ends, I’m afraid.” He said.
“Then you don’t know much more than myself,” Fiera sighed. “I was wondering about the nature of feelings, and the nature of relationships, and how they relate to memory. You have all your memories intact, and have, I believe, had crushes before, so I hoped you might be able to offer some insight. You don’t suppose emotions can be born of memories, do you?” Kadri looked quizzical.
“Crushes? I would hardly relate those to love…ah, but to answer your question, not exactly. I think it more accurate to say emotions are associated with memories. We do feel things in the present, after all.” He said.
“True…then I ask you instead, are there any memories you would forget if you could? Would you still be you if you had different memories?” she said. She knew she was prying at what was both purely a hypothetical and quite possibly personal, but the possibility of losing more memories, or of not being who she used to be, were ones she considered often. If she asked too personal a question Kadri would just tell her that.
“Hmm… I believe it may be more truthful to say there are many things I wish had never happened to me in the first place. But they did happen, so I would not let go of them.” He said. Then he chuckled to himself. “But then, I am an incredibly miserable person often stuck in the past. Surely, if I had different memories, the essence of me would be the same, but I would see the world in a different light.” Fiera thought about that. Without her old memories, she had been forced to grow new ones, and she wasn’t discontent with them…
“That is fair. I suppose I just wonder if my old memories have truly withered away or not. It can feel strange to be ‘moving on’ when that is not certain.” She said.
“Well, I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to in any way judge…” Then his expression grew slightly softer. “Truly, Fiera, you are not lacking in any respect. You are exceptionally driven and kind, and brilliant beyond compare. I do not doubt you will find joy and peace in your own way, no matter the circumstances of your memories or your relationship with that nebulous thing called ‘love’.” Fiera smiled at that. Kadri would sometimes just say stuff like that, about her or about some of his old travel companions, and yet still denied having friends or attachments in this world outside of his master. Though she did sometimes wonder if he simply idolized anyone who wasn’t cruel to him. Either way, it was an appreciated statement even if she yearned to be able to confirm its truth in a more concrete way.
“You are kind to say so. I have a similar faith in you.” She said, and she did believe it. Kadri gave a laugh, and the thinly veiled pain in his eyes made it clear that he didn’t.
“Truly, you are too generous. Ah, but here we are, I don’t think I’ve been to this place before. Can you tell me of it?” he said. Fiera silently noted the quick change of subject, and then went on to tell him whatever she could of the little restaurant they had come upon.
She had always been called ‘cold’ and ‘distant’. And even now, she knew she was not in love. But she didn’t feel cold, or distant, when she was chasing her memories or spending time with Kadri. She wasn’t sure why he seemed to be an exception, perhaps it was simply because he had no expectations of her other than to fulfill her side of their agreements without mocking or betraying him, which was easy enough to do since he always did the same on his end. No, the feeling wasn’t love, but it was a warm kind of feeling. She wondered if they were friends, or only amiable business partners, or if it really made a difference. Certainly, if she called him her friend to his face, he’d probably find some excuse to go away and never return. But privately, she would like to think of him as a friend. She didn’t know what her past would reveal, about herself or about those she must have known, but there was always the present, and a dream for the future.
Perhaps the memory of joy and peace could still be grown in some other way.
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