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Published:
2026-06-07
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262
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Ashertmarn

Summary:

Shallan walks on a tight rope

Notes:

This is a representation of my feelings in general. There have been some days where I absolutely despised my writing and, but kept doing it because I keep thinking that that same spark will come again and the words will just flow out of my fingers in a coherent way, This last month I've been writing Stormlight fanfiction almost daily + getting back to reading Rhythm of War and maybe I started projecting myself into Shallan.

Apart from that there is also some real life stuff, I'm in my last year of university (on a degree I should have finished two years ago) it just gives me stress of writing + studying + juggling whether I can finish my final degree project subject or leave it for another year, I've got only two subjects left to finish my degree, also coupled with health matters (LIKE I'M OK, IT'S NOT THAT KIND OF PROBLEMS) but I'm waiting for an intervention and I feel like it is right around the corner, all of that has caused me a bit of mental distress. I don't think about it that much, but it affects me.

But hey, it is what it is, if somebody is bothered to read this, thank you and hope you enjoy this little fanfiction.

Work Text:

“Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks” (Psalm 137:9, New International Version). 

Shallan looked at the window, ready to plunge. She had lightwoven an illusion of herself as a coverup.

“May my soul be taken by the Almighty” She put her hands in prayer. 

Tsameth Tebel Javani

Kadulel Tebel Katef

Mevizh1

She thought her body would look beautiful splattered on the floor. So beautiful…

She took a deep breath.

“Almighty, give me strength” she whispered under her breath.

She looked down…it was high, high enough to kill someone, but would she be satisfied by her own death? Did she take pity on herself, or revel in her own self-destruction?

The depth made her nauseous. Goosebumps electrified her skin.

“I mustn't die,” She whispered.

Shallan retreated.

In a state of mental panic she paced around the room, looking for something to channel her feelings into.

She looked at her pillow.

She took a deep breath, grabbed it and screamed into it as hard as she could, until her lungs gave out.

“What am I doing?” she thought.

She muttered to herself:

The Almighty is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

He lies me down green pastures, leads me to clear waters

I can do this through him who gives me strength.

Shallan stood, with a clear mind, and undid her illusion.

She laid in bed and closed her eyes.

She felt her heart pounding.

 

She was alive.

 

Maybe that was enough.

 

1. "Death Before Life, Weakness Before Strength, Destination" in Alethi return to text