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I am She

Summary:

Trist has a secret that her husband is waiting for her to speak. She is more than what she seems, but she is also a wife, a mother, a schoolteacher, and a daughter. What must it be like for those who are more than mortal to awaken to their true selves, and when does it happen in their lives? Do they grow up from children knowing their special destiny, their special purpose, or do they only know it when the appointed time draws near?

This is one story of how that may have happened.

Notes:

If you haven't seen Critical Role C3E99 yet, ****MASSIVE SPOILERS!****

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It took a number of months before she was certain that this wasn't just a kind of madness that had overtaken her reason. She visited a number of healers, priests and doctors who examined her very carefully. They pronounced her in perfect health, but used spells or techniques that should heal any mental illness just in case they had missed something. If anything, it just made her more certain of who she was.

And who she was, was not Trist, daughter of a farmer and his wife who lived in the Dividing Plains of Gwessar, wife of the firbolg Druid Amaris, and mother of his children. Or at least, not only that.

Secrets do not keep well between a husband and wife, and Amaris knew something was wrong long before Trist was ready to speak of it. However, the days of firbolgs are long compared to humans, and as a people they have learned patience, and the benefit of silence. Amaris was willing to wait until she was ready to tell him.

It was one night, after the children were in bed, and the two of them were together, wrapped in their bedclothes, having just finished making love. Trist never failed to give of herself so freely and love so deeply but that Amaris felt blessed to hold her in his arms, feel her body against his, pleasure joining and peaking as one. But afterwards, laying on their straw-stuffed mattress and pulling the covers up over their skin to hold off the chill, Amaris saw the unspoken words in her eyes again, more strongly than ever he had before.

So, in this moment, he decided it was time to break the silence. "Trist, my own heart's root, you know you can tell me anything, right? I will not judge you harshly for anything you should say," he promised.

Trist's eyes grew wet. "Amaris, my dearworthy heart, I cannot say how blessed I am to have you. Words are not enough. You surely know there is something I have been trying for weeks to figure out how to say to you. It just... sounds like madness, I must confess."

"If you are mad, then mad we shall be together, for there is nothing for it but that I am mad for you, you know," Amaris told her.

Trist sat up in bed, letting the sheets and blankets fall from her. "You have not heard my madness yet, my love, but I believe you. If there is any fault I can be said to hold most deeply, it is trusting, possibly too much and too easily. But be that as it may, I will tell you.

"When I was a child there was a voice in my soul that told me what I should do, what was right and what was wrong, and most importantly what I should do to be part of the light of the world. For years I thought this was what everyone experiences: conscience, morality. But it was more than that. It was literally a voice, and it sometimes told me things I simply did not, could not know. A guardian angel, perhaps, I thought. A calling. But in recent months, it has become more than a voice. It has become memories, a self, a consciousness that is both me and not me at the same time, human and not human, mortal and immortal both. In my dreams, I see beings of light and possibility, living in a palace, which is to say a garden, or a fountain, or a mirror, or a heart -- all these things at once. And I am one of these beings, called Luz, and I have spent a timeless eternity playing with my siblings in this... calling it a place is not even correct, for it was more than that. An Orchard, I suppose, is one word I could use, for there was much growing, and always trees.

"In the possibilities of the palace where we lived, I saw a crack appear, and darkness began to enter the world for the first time. Those of my siblings who came in contact with this darkness did not die, as you might think would happen to beings of light -- dying is altogether too simple a word. Darkness touched those who were less cautious or less quick, and as it did, it turned out that none of them actually had ever existed at all. Their possibilities were extinguished at once, past and future, and I cannot speak the names of those who never existed, only feel the shape of the empty place in my heart left by their failure to happen. So, of course, those of us who continued to exist fled. As we fled, the garden, the palace itself began to collapse into never-existence."

"Who is 'we', in this dream, my love?" asked Amaris. "Your name was Luz, but who were your siblings?"

"There was Ash and Edam, they were always close, always opposites but attracted... and Imri, who was loud and exciting and became fire. Coru, always trying for everything, everywhere, painting the stars, following the compass. Shosti, fierce and concussive, protecting us. Ihana who could see the threads of fate, and who fashioned us a ship to escape. Aru, warm and full of light, like myself. Names... some of them lost. Ash found us home. This. Here is home. Not this house, but this world. Exandria is home."

Trist's eyes were unfocused, looking into the far distance, and Amaris felt the hair on the back of his neck and shoulders and arms stand up.

"We came here after time became real for us, and each of us were a single individual, not possibilities anymore. And we came, and we created... so many things. So much bright and beautiful, and things dark and dreadful as well, but most importantly, we created... us. Humans. Firbolgs. Mortals." Her eyes turned to Amaris, focused on him. "I know this must seem like so much nonsense to you, my love.”

“Not at all. Dreams are very strange, but those that we remember after we wake are important. And this story hangs together, and I can feel in your voice how true it is for you, how much it means.”

Trist reached up, and traced her fingers down Amaris’s cheek. “You are precious beyond words… This wasn’t a dream, though. If anything, it was real and this is the dream. No, that’s not true. This is as real as that was. Both are true.” She sighed and stood up from the bed, nude in the bedroom, lit only by the smoldering fire in the hearth. His breath caught as he watched the dim light shimmering off her tanned, freckled skin. At 37 years old and after 12 years of marriage, she still made him feel like the luckiest firbolg alive, with the beginning of wrinkles on her face and faint, silvery stretch marks on her belly dividing the dusting of freckles just making her that much more appealing to him.

“I am Trist. But I am also more…” Flames appeared to leap from the hearth and swirl across her skin, rippling and caressing. “I am possibility made flesh, light given form, love and grace incarnate.” Her speech took on an echoing quality, as if more than one voice was speaking simultaneously. “I am the Flower of Dawn, the Cleansing Flame, the Healing Light.” The fire extended from her skin and arched out into a pair of unfolding, angelic wings of flame that could not possibly fit within the room available, but did not intersect the ceiling or burn anything around her. I have been called Sister Cinder, Grandmother Grace, and…”

“Everlight!” Amaris said with a gasp as Trist’s motherly form was superceded by a golden angelic shape surrounded by helices of fire, for just a moment, before she stepped forward towards him and was just Trist, again, wrapping her arms around him.

“I am She. 38 years ago, for a number of reasons that I’ll tell you more about later, I determined that it was necessary for me to be born and live as a human, a mortal, and only in the last few months have I begun to reawaken as who I am. Nothing I have ever told you was a lie, because everything I knew myself to be was… this. Trist. This is who I am. Your wife. Mother of your children, who adores you.”

“Lady Everlight, I…” Amaris began, his voice trembling.

“No, no! I cannot hear fear in your voice, my sweetling,” Trist said, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Nothing you have ever done has been wrong. There is no duality in who I am. Trist is Luz, the Everlight, Sarenrae, Raeis, and all the other names I’ve been called. I, Sarenrae, Everlight, Luz, love you. ” She pressed her lips to his, and in the moment, he briefly forgot everything but the pressure of her kiss, her tongue touching his, the smell of her breath and her skin.

Amaris embraced her and pulled her close, responding to her touch and kiss. Then he opened his eyes and pulled back, looking into hers. In the center of her pupil, he saw a dancing flame in the shape of a winged woman. “So… I’ve been sleeping with a goddess? Well… I already worship the ground you walk on, so this doesn’t change anything, really.”

Trist laughed softly. “You are a most passionate and earnest devotee, my dear one.” She kissed him again, warm and tender.

After a moment, Amaris flopped back onto the mattress, holding his wife – his goddess – on top of him. “Let me show you my devotion, love… I will praise every part of you.” He cupped her asscheeks, lifting her in his large hands up to his face. Looking up at her from between her legs, he met her eyes, shining with affection, as he began his worship.

* * *

Later, they were laying in bed again, Trist resting as the ‘little spoon’ in his arms. “Mmmm… I always feel so safe in your arms,” she murmured to him.

“Do you feel the need for safety?” he whispered.

“This body can be hurt or killed like any other human,” she replied, “and though I would continue, I would lose the opportunity to be here with you, and to do what I came to this life to do. And, well, you heard the story. Gods can die, should they experience a grave enough assault. I’ve suffered greatly in battles with my dark kin, and I have no desire to again. If nothing else, coming to this world in this mortal body is worth it to feel the warmth of your arms around me.”

“You’ll make me get a bit of an ego, my lady, praising me so.”

Her musical laughter filled his heart with joy. “You deserve every bit. Are you tired, my dear one?”

“Not quite ready for another round, I’m afraid. But I’ll gladly hold you and talk as long as you want.”

“That is exactly what I want. I suppose I should tell you those reasons I promised to, earlier. Amaris, how much do you know about Aeor?”

Notes:

The character of Trist belongs to Ashley Johnson, and Amaris to Brennan Lee Mulligan. Hope you don't mind my little noodling around. As far as I know this is canon compliant up to C3E100, but all bets are off as the story continues of course.

I thought the idea of a god awakening in the body of a mortal was a fascinating idea, especially when that mortal has established relationships with other mortal beings. I think from the conversation that Trist and Amaris have, it's clear he knows who she is and to at least some extent what she needs to do. But he also seems to see her as his wife, an equal partner in life, albeit one with a very unique and important job to do. And of course as far as the kids are concerned, she's their mom -- of course she can save the world!

This and this are the images of Sarenrae/Raeis/Everlight that inspired the descriptions of her incarnation.

BTW, Sarenrae is just the sweetest cinnamon roll who will absolutely kill you if necessary.