Archive of Our Own ^beta

Caramelinda has always been stoic. She took her studies seriously and when she was told she was to marry one of the siblings of the House of Rocks, she made her choice almost clinically. Lazuli wasn’t the oldest and in good faith, would never be queen. She wasn’t beautiful like Citrina or Sapphira, and Amethar was… the youngest. Lazuli was smart though, she was graceful, and she seemed stoic. 

However, she quickly learned that Lazuli was anything but. She was a challenger and a magician. Her sharp wit and blatant indifference to the rules of royalty first shocked Caramelinda, then she began to admire her way of doing things.

Above all their allegiances, the Rocks siblings were devoted to each other and Caramelinda often found herself drawn into their competitive chess matches or pall-mall tournements, heated debates, or deep conversations that lasted long into the night. She never had siblings so this time spent with her new family was appreciated, even in the midst of the war.

Caramelinda is perhaps the least stoic when the Candian army returns with one less Rocks sister than they left with. It takes one look at Rococoa's face that the reality of her loss sets in. Rococoa's usually stern face is twisted up and her eyes are bloodshot. 

"Where is she?" Caramelinda hears herself ask, Rococoa's eyes meet hers and trail to a long box being held by six soldiers.

The confirmation causes Caramelinda's heart to freeze in her chest. She hears a scream that she realizes is coming from her throat. Rococoa flinches but wraps her strong arms around her sister-in-law. Caramelinda feels her knees give out and has never been more grateful for Rococoa's strength.

Caramelinda sobs until her throat is sore. Her eyes are nearly swollen shut and there is a stabbing pain in her brain. 

They end up in a private room, Caramelinda's grief hidden from their citizens and soldiers. No need to dishearten them more than they likely already are. 

"I'm sorry. I should have done better at protecting her." 

Caramelinda stares straight ahead but shakes her head. "No, it wasn't your fault. She was always reckless." 

Rococoa doesn't seem soothed. Caramelinda feels sick at the guilt she must feel. 

A selfish part of her brain thinks a thought she would never say aloud. Lazuli would have been safe if Rococoa was a better soldier. 

Caramelinda excuses herself to her room, head spinning as she ignores the stack of books at the now-empty desk. 

---

Amethar is dumb. Caramelinda has always thought so. His sisters hated the vulgar stories of his time in the Dairy Isles and often told him so. He's dumb, although he has always been sweet to her and has been sure to let her know that he was glad she chose Lazuli over Rococoa. In her opinion, Amethar was probably Lazuli’s favorite, even though Lazuli would never claim to have a favorite sibling.

When he knocks on her door late one evening, she opens it almost immediately. He has been away for weeks and only returned for the funeral.

He's holding a small, flat box in his hand. "I saved this for you. Mama wanted to put it in a memory box. I told her you deserved it." He looks shy, in the way that most younger siblings would look at their older sibling-in-law. 

Caramelinda opens the box. Against a soft cushion sits the circlet Lazuli always wore. It's glimmering blue and silver. 

She looks up, tears already falling. She didn’t want to cry in front of him but the gesture is so kind that she can’t help herself.

"I'm sorry. I should have asked before I-" He stutters, mistaking the source of her grief.

"Thank you, Amethar." She says sternly. She places a hand on his arm. “I just miss her.” Her voice cracks on the last syllable.

He nods, trying to disguise a small sniffle as a sigh. "I miss her too."

They stand there in the hall for a moment longer, letting grief settle between them.

"I'll see you at the funeral." Amethar finally says. He walks down the hall and she watches his tall figure leave.

Amethar may be dumb, but he's kind.

---

Citrina has always been incredibly kind. Her first reaction to everything was to respond with grace and love. Caramelinda has seen Citrina grief many times, over the death of a soldier, over elderly servants' death, and even over a terrorist attack with Meatlander lines.

Caramelinda wishes she could grieve as beautifully as Citrina.

As Citrina stands in front of the church, she delivers a beautiful eulogy. Her tears fall at the perfect moments and even her voice chokes up at appropriate times. As she steps down and wraps saintly arms around her remaining sisters, she is still the picture of Bulbian love and grace. 

Citrina approaches her after the funeral. 

"How are you holding up?" She asks softly. 

Caramelinda feels the back of her eyes burn for the millionth time. "Not very well." There is no point to lie when she can feel tears begin to fill her already-watery eyes.

Citrina hums, and she gently wraps her arms around Caramelinda. "I'm here if you need anything. I know how much you loved her." 

Caramelinda wants to scream. Citrina didn't know just how much she loved Lazuli. Not even Lazuli knew just how much love Caramelinda held in her heart for her archmage.

She doesn't know how long they stand there. Her tears are silent, dampening Citrina's shoulder. It feels like hours. 

She feels like she could cry for days. 

--- 

When Caramelinda finally gets the nerve to go into Lazuli's study, she's startled to find a figure already there. Sir Theobald Gumbar stands in the corner, carefully putting a book back on the shelf. 

"Oh, Lady Caramelinda." He bows. "My apologies. I'll leave." He begins to grab his things. She raises a hand and he stops. 

"No, she would want you to stay. Besides, I never understood her disorganized organization." 

Theobald chuckles, the laugh sounding painful at the same time. "In all honesty, your highness, I didn't either." 

"None of the formalities." Caramelinda says softly. "We're equal in this grief."

Theobald scoffs. "Respectfully, Caramelinda, we are not. I was merely a ward. You were her wife." 

"And yet we both are alive and she isn't."

Theobald blinks away the wetness in his eyes. "Yes." 

"Tell me a funny story about her." Caramelinda requests. "Everyone only tells her bravest moments or her best. Surely she did funny things when you were under her wardship." 

Theobald smiles. "All the time. Did she tell you about her hair and the fire?"

"No."

Theobald launches into a story about Lazuli accidentally lighting her hair on fire three days before her wedding. Caramelinda laughs so hard her sides hurt and her lungs burn. 

As she wipes tears of laughter away for the first time in months, she realizes that Theobald is the only person who had a similar deep friendship with Lazuli. Not bound by blood or just by duty, but by friendship and love.

--- 

"We're going to play chess," Sapphira mentions to her at dinner. "You are invited as always." 

Caramelinda ponders the invitation. She considers not going. The Rocks siblings have barely had a spare moment to do anything together. She wasn't even technically a part of their posse anymore.

She almost doesn't go but finds herself dragging herself to the small conference room that the siblings used to frequent.

The room is the same as it always was, chess tables against the wall, the lumpy old sofa in the middle of the room, and a table with various snacks that they stole from the kitchen.

The room is solemn as she enters but Sapphira grins at her. "Welcome!" 

For the first time since Lazuli's death. Caramelinda doesn't feel like an outsider within the castle walls.

---

Jadain was, unarguably, a terrible wartime king. He was a coward first and foremost and his own children could easily gang up on him to get their way.

He was always sweet to Caramelinda though, even before she married into his family. 

When she sees his in passing and bows low, he huffs and stops in his tracks. "No need for that, Carm.”

The nickname was one that Lazuli used and it causes a familiar twang in her heart. 

"Are you faring well?” 

"As well as expected." She answers stoically. 

Jadain's eyes look sad, in all honesty, they haven't stopped looking sad since his daughter sacrificed herself. A massive casualty that no one saw coming.

"You know, we used to joke that Lazuli was a witch. She preferred her books and spells over friendships. You brought out a new side of her. She loved you, Caramelinda. She’s never loved anyone as she did you.”

Caramelinda smiles softly. "Thank you, your majesty." 

"She really loved you. I'll be thankful for the love you two shared until my dying day." He pats her cheek in a fatherly fashion. "Now, excuse me. I must attend another meeting I'm afraid."

---

Caramelinda stands at Sapphira’s funeral, then Citrina’s, then Rococoa’s. After many years, she finds herself at a horribly painful grave. It’s worst that Sapphira, who died too young, worst than Citrina, who died unfairly, and worst than Rococoa, who shouldn’t have died anyways. It’s even worst than Lazuli’s sacrifice. 

Jet’s death was the worst of them because it was like reliving it all again. The shock, the anger, the numbness. She snaps at Theobald who was one of her only long-term comforters after Lazuli died. Ruby is upset at her, the magic in her veins similar to the lover she lost cruelly. Every time Caramelinda sees Ruby, she sees Lazuli and wonders if she and Lazuli had a child, would they have been like Ruby? With Lazuli’s magic and affinity for breaking the rules, with Caramelinda’s stubbornness?

Caramelinda should have never fallen in love, these thoughts were too much to process.

She's never felt more alone in her life.