rogueinladysclothing | A turn of magical events [Tagging Viatorus]

The buzzing alert stirs Viatorus from his light sleep. He almost passes over it except for the second text. Somewhere in his mind he starts to think that if someone is texting him this much at whatever hour it is, it must be important.

Amelia's messages confuse him, which isn't difficult in his fuzzy-brained state. He sits up, rubbing his eyes as he texts back:

Did what?

Well, he's awake now, he might as well get up. Slowly. Very, very slowly while he waits for the reply.

It takes her a minute to respond, but not because she accidentally almost set a tiny fire. Never!

Magic! I really did it!

She can hardly contain her excitement, but she doesn't even think to call him. Which, really, is better for his eardrums at this point. There's no way she could keep her voice down to a reasonable level right now.

"Magic?" He mumbles aloud to himself, squinting as he thinks that through. Amelia... did magic? Amelia? But she hates magic, or is at least scared of it.

The idea of someone so easily scared by magic using it kick starts his brain again. He throws on some clothes, grabbing a jacket and heading to Amelia as fast as he can. When he knocks on the door it's with light, but fast, rapping. He's a little out of breath but doing his best not to show it.

"A-Amelia?"

The door to her room is open before he can finish saying her name. She doesn't look any worse for wear or the same kind of sad or nervous as she was at his birthday party. In fact, she looks... happy. It's a strange thing to see, given her usually sullen and downtrodden moods.

"Viatorus, I did it! I did it! Look!" She moves out of the way and points excitedly to a lit candle on her desk. After a beat, she shakes her head. "Wait, no, hold on."

Without more than a wave of her hand to invite him in, she rushes over and snubs the candle between her fingers. The room is completely dark in the absence of the small light. "Now, watch." Taking the candle holder in her hands, she holds it in front of her chest and smiles brightly in his direction as the candle lights without the use of any matches or a lighter.

"See? Magic."

The initial excited gesturing to the candle gets a blank, vaguely worried look from Viatorus, but she's quick to set about giving him a demonstration. He steps into the room, closing the door quickly to join her in peering at the candle.

His eyes barely have time to adjust to the darkness before the candle flickers back to life. Magic. Somehow he still doesn't quite believe what he's seeing. Amelia is using magic.

"Fire, elemental magic..." Eyebrows up and eyes wide, he eventually pulls his gaze back to hers. "How did you do that?"

"I'm... not exactly sure. I think it has something to do with not drinking the tea, though? I... haven't remembered to do so in over a week." Despite her slightly somber answer, she can't stop smiling. The candle is set aside carefully before she turns back to him.

"I've been studying, though. For three months now! And tonight? Tonight I finally did it! I needed some light in the room and when I grabbed the candle, it just lit! And then, when I tried again and again, I figured out how to light it without thinking about needing the light and almost... telling the candle to light instead." A beat, which feels like a long pause compared to her fast paced rambling. "Does that make sense?"

The tea...? His eyes flicker back and forth in the way they do when he's thinking through something. Ideas and hypotheses spinning past... Oh it's too late at night for this. He rubs his temple and she's off again, explaining a familiar feeling.

"Mm," he confirms with a nod. "It's intuitive magic. Exerting your will over the world around you without physical, verbal or spiritual aids... But I thought you didn't have magic. That you'd never had magic. That no one in your family's history had every had magic. How...?"

"Sheer force of will?" Realizing how utterly silly that sounds, she laughs and shakes her head. Dreams, it feels so good to have him around for a discussion like this. "Honestly, I don't know. Maybe... maybe it is in my blood somewhere, but no one ever knew because magic wasn't something people on my world did for hundreds of years? Perhaps... perhaps one of my ancestors was a distant descendant or relative of a wizard on my world, but no one knew or remembered because it wasn't written down because of the danger?"

So many possibilities and not enough time to think through them all right now like she wants to. "What does it matter, though, now that I have it? Don't you see, this is a huge leap forward! If I can do this without really thinking about it already," she gestures to the candle to make sure her point is clear, "think of how much more I could learn - and how quickly I could learn it! I... I could finally be enough." It seems as if that last part might have been for herself, given the way she looks down at the floor pensively, but it's impossible to tell. Amelia's moving at full speed and speaking at full volume right now, making everything seem like it's meant for anyone who can hear her.

The first answer she offers is met with a raised eyebrow, but her latter suggestions find him conceding the possibility with a nod of his head to one side. They're all possible, though not possibilities he'd considered before when he really should have. Different worlds and their different reactions to magic... It's unlikely he'll ever keep that fully in mind.

Just when his muddled mind is about to relax, Amelia has to go and start him worrying again. His brow furrows and he shakes his head. "No, Amelia... You... You don't learn magic quickly." Sighing and trying to smooth out his brow, he runs a hand through his hair as if it might help him think. "Magic isn't something to be rushed. Especially fire magic. Fire is one of the most dangerous kinds of magic for beginners. You don't even understand how you did it, which means you don't understand how to control it. And you need a good control of fire to use it."

"You... You need a study plan. A guide to make sure you learn this safely and thoroughly."

She rolls her eyes at him. "No, no, I don't want to learn fire magic. It's just the starting point, the means to an end. I want to learn defensive magics: wards, barriers, that sort of thing. It's what I've been studying, what I've been trying to do for so long. But until now, I... couldn't do anything." Her lips draw into a thin line and she crosses her arms in front of her chest, finally taking a pause that's longer than a few seconds to think. It's surprisingly hard at this particular moment.

"You're right, though. I need..." A beat and a frown. "Fuck, I need a lot of things to make this work. I need more time, patience, and energy than I have to get through all of this on top of a plan so I don't get overwhelmed. Dreams, I need so much more time!" She makes a small noise of frustration and begins pacing the room, pulling down her hair from its normal position to brush it out slowly to keep her hands busy.

"I'm never going to find it, you know." Her eyes track over to him as she paces the tiny room, her steps carefully moving around the books and papers scattered on the floor. He'll note that some of them look a little singed in places. "A guide, I mean. A mentor... whatever you want to call it. No one's going to take the time for me. I'm not naturally gifted like you. I don't come from a magical family or any of that. I'm rash, impatient, stubborn, flawed - I'm nothing." She stops suddenly, her hands falling to her side and her hair pin clenched tightly in her right hand. Slowly, she shakes her head and settles her eyes on the floor in front of her. "There's no reason to believe I'm not doing this alone."

He's about to explain to her the many dangers of magic, all magic, when she changes the subject. Some small part of him settles at her agreement on her needing a tutor. The rest of him despairs faintly at her berating herself so readily.

"Rash, impatient and stubborn are three of my sister's finest qualities," Viatorus comments with a small smile. The books finally catch his eye and he bends down, picks one up, before standing again. "And she's the family favourite."

"Besides, yesterday you couldn't do magic at all. Now you're doing it. And in a multiversal space on top of it all, which I bet you didn't imagine existed when you were younger. Never say never," he tells her, waving the book at her gently before it gets a closer inspection. And it's back to frowning. "... Did you burn this?"

"I am nothing like Isidor." She says it without thinking, with a stern look on her face. "It's an insult to her to even suggest it." If she's come to learn anything recently, it's that she's not even close to the person she thought she was, which means she's nothing like the forceful patron.

She sighs softly, but before she can add to that thought, he's asking about the book in his hands. Amelia looks over at it then rolls her eyes as she walks over and takes it from his hands. "Singed it, thank you very much." She sets it and her hair pin aside momentarily to gather up the others books and things from the floor. "I got so excited that every time I tried to write in something, or even touch it with the end of my pen, it started to... smolder a little." A beat and she looks over at him to make sure she has his attention before she continues. "But I put everything out before it got even more than a little singed, I swear!"

If he looked uncertain before he looks downright horrified now. "You did what? Oh gods, but you could have... You might have..."

He catches himself about to half warn, half scold her when he realises that this is an oddly familiar thing. Except that it was him as a child and his tutors doing the lecturing. That felt like an age ago now. He'd forgotten what it was like.

Taking a deep breath, he clears his head as best he can and then looks at her seriously. "No more magic except under supervision. You need guidance. Or at least someone to help you put any fires out." He runs another hand through his hair and rubs his scalp a little. "You need to learn how to control it. I'll help you as much as I can and you can look for a proper teacher in the meantime."

"Come on, I'll be fine! I promise I won't do it without-- ouch!" She drops the papers in her hand that appear to have begun burning under her fingers and stamps them out quickly. The look she gives him is more embarrassed than guilty and she coughs conspicuously, her gaze wandering everywhere he isn't right now.

"I'm guessing that's a strike against me, isn't it?"

Edited 2016-05-26 17:48 (UTC)

Viatorus stares at her for the longest minute. What is he going to do with her? "You're going to burn the whole place down."

That would be a yes, Amelia.

"Right." His other hand lifts to his head, both now rubbing his temples as he tries desperately to think this through. "Right. You have magic now, and it's fire magic, and you can't control it."

Dropping from his head, he gestures at her with both hands. "I have some things back at my apartment. We'll ground you, I don't want to do a binding, because that might ruin your connection with your power. No, we'll ground you, and get some sleep and deal with this properly in the morning. Maybe I can put up some dispelling wards as well."

Edited 2016-05-26 21:37 (UTC)

There's a moment where she misses what he's trying to say, where her understanding disconnects from what she's hearing and she thinks he means to take the magic away completely. It passes after a moment, when he finishes his thought, but the fleeting terror is easy to see. She takes a few deep breaths to settle herself before speaking.

"What... exactly does that mean? Can I still use magic after I'm... grounded? It can be reversed once I have control, right?"

She trusts him, but this is a hard thing to understand when she's stressed out and running more on adrenaline than sleep.

"No, I..." He wipes his face and takes a deep breath. Why does it feel like he's rested so little even when he sleeps so much? "I'm not using a binding on you. Even if I did, it would be reversible. No, I want to get you grounded. So your magic isn't..." He holds out his hands flat, palms down to help him explain. "So it's not right under the surface. So it's not driven by instinct and emotion."

He's not taking it away. She can keep it. It'll be fine. It will be fine.

"Okay, let's... get this over with, then." She's still nervous and upset and it's obvious, but she's trusting him. Viatorus would never hurt her and wouldn't lie to her. Well, most likely, but he's scared right now and--

No. It will be fine.

Her gaze falls to the floor and her shoulders slump forward a bit. "Please. Before I do anything else that could hurt you." Because even though she's worried about herself, she's still more worried about what she could do to him.

"I'm really the last person you should be worried about. Your books though..." He tries to smile encouragingly, to inject some light heartedness into the room again. That's what Harrowheart does and it usually works. "Pack some things if you need them. You should stay in my spare room. We'll get you grounded there and then rest."

It's a terrible attempt at a joke, but she appreciates the effort anyway and throws a half-smile at him for the attempt. "There's always more books," she points out, "though I suppose the librarians won't be happy to see what I've done."

It only takes her a minute to gather a fresh set of clothes and the few books and papers she thinks might be useful. All of these are packed into her leather messenger bag before she takes a moment to rebraid and pin up her hair. Everything taken care of, she pulls the bag over her shoulder and nods to him. "Whenever you're ready."

Edited 2016-05-27 03:05 (UTC)

"These are borrowed books?" And there goes his smile. While she gathers her things, he inspects any books he can, wondering if he can offer reparations. Money or mending... It's these thoughts he's pulled from when she gets his attention again.

"Oh, yes." Quickly returning to the present, he opens the door and holds it for her. In the corridor Lyall's waiting, looking a little groggy, but keeping close nonetheless. If the trip back to Viatorus' apartment is quiet it's only because he's running through things in his head. What he needs and what techniques he should use...

It occurs to him that Amelia might have foregone food in favour of study like he has a tendency to do, but when it comes down to a choice between food or sleep, sleep always wins with the Dreamwalker.

Inside the apartment Viatorus is quick to encourage her to, "Make yourself at home. I... I need to gather a few things." If he can remember where they all are...

"If the librarians want something from me in return for the damage, they'll get it. Money isn't an issue." With a little smart investment, Amelia's been quite well settled here in the Nexus. Coming in with so much gold on her person also helped. Finding a job is still a long-term plan, but not one she's actually made any progress on as there's been no need for the added financial stability yet.

Amelia spares a nod to Lyall before she falls in close behind Viatorus. Her thoughts are quiet as she focuses on staying calm and not jumping to conclusions about all of this. She has no idea what all of this entails, but she knows it's best to trust her friend. Between the two of them, he's certainly the subject matter expert.

...it's best he doesn't ask about her eating habits, though. Between the stress, frustration, and distractions, Amelia's lucky if she gets one full meal in a day. Snacks of dried fruits and meats - things that keep for some time without effort - are her friends when she settles in to study. Even if her body demands more from her, she pushes it aside to stay focused on the task at hand. She's not wasting away or malnourished, but she could certainly stand to take better care of herself, both in how much she eats and sleeps.

Despite his asking her to relax once they arrive, Amelia knows she's going to pace the living room area if left alone. "Are you sure I can't help instead? Get this done quicker? I promise to keep my thoughts focused so I don't..." She gestures vaguely. "...well, you know."

Viatorus has already brought out several things from his study. A thin book and two small wooden cases. He sets them down on the coffee table, freeing up his hands so that he can flick through the book. It's one of his own, filled with useful, if less often used, spells.

Her question gets a brief glance up from the page. "Do you know what hematite, obsidian and onyx look like? Can you tell them apart from other black stones?"

Amelia frowns. "I'm afraid not." She knows what they are, but there's no way she could reliably differentiate them from one another. Geology was never something she took the time to learn about.

Holding back a sigh, she sits down on the couch and sets aside her bag. She folds her hands together in her lap and looks down at them silently, feeling completely useless. It's an uncomfortable feeling, one she always does her best to avoid. But here, now, she feels that and something even more terrifying - helpless. Helpless against what's awoken inside of her. Helpless when it comes to offering assistance to her friend. Helpless when it comes to doing anything for herself.

It will get better, she knows it has to, but in her sleep deprived state it's hard to remember that silver lining.

"Oh. That's alright." Unaware of Amelia's self-criticisms, Viatorus continues to read and gather a couple of things. Even when he goes to rearrange the room, he uses magic to lift and move the coffee table and some of the chairs, bar the one with Amelia perched on top.

He opens the wooden boxes, pulling out several dark polished stones and setting them out along the invisible circle he's laid out on the floor. Holding out an open palm, he motions to the centre. "Make yourself comfortable."

After a few more artefacts are put along the circle, Viatorus vanishes and returns with another wooden box. It's only now that he settles, sitting down in front of Amelia, legs folded underneath him. "Are you alright?"

Once Viatorus motions for her to move in to the center of the circle of stones, she does so without a word. She kneels down slowly and sits back on her feet, her hands folding themselves in her lap again. She watches him dart about, but she doesn't offer her help or speak to him. It's only when he sits in front of her that she meets his gaze.

"Of course." A small, hollow smile pulls at her lips. She's lying. She's terrified. This is all so new and happening so quickly. This wasn't supposed to be like this. This was supposed to be a good thing. Why does it feel like she's done something so terribly wrong? "What do you need me to do?"

Small, hollow smiles are the masks of rich children used at political pawns. Viatorus spots it a mile away.

"It's fine, you know. Nothing can go wrong. Even I do this from time to time- Well... Not as often as I should," he admits sheepishly, though he's quick to add, "It's healthy, magically."

She sighs and shakes her head. He's trying to help and she knows it, but the way phrases all of that makes her feel even worse about this whole thing. "Let's just get this over with, Viatorus."

...wow, that came out horribly. Her gaze falls to the floor and her grip on her hands tightens. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

Viatorus pulls back at the sharp reaction, eyes darting from place to place as he quickly works through it. "It's fine."

Taking a breath and opting to move instead of talk lest he get any more barbed words, he opens the box. It's full of dirt. "Cup your hands together, please."

His discomfort is obvious and she makes a mental note to do something to make it up to him later, once all of this is finished.

The dirt is... surprising, but she does as she's asked and keeps her mouth shut. There will be time to ask questions later, when she's sure she won't snap at him for an unjustified reason.

Bit by bit he shovels dirt into her hands. "Don't worry if it goes onto the floor. I'll have it cleaned tomorrow."

Once there's a good bit of dirt in her hands he takes a small obsidian disc and places it on the pile. "Ok, rest your hands where ever is comfortable. You can take more dirt from the box if you want to."

Then with a clenching and opening of his palm he summons an orb of light. It's pale blue, offering a soft light rather than a harsh one.

"I'm going to turn the lights off now, alright?"

This is by far the strangest thing Amelia's ever done in her life, but she tries not to let her vague curiosity show. Her hands are rested against her lap and as much as she wants to ask why she could possibly need more dirt, she doesn't. She still doesn't trust herself to speak without snapping at him.

When he summons the light, her eyes track its movements until he speaks again. She takes one last deep breath and lets it out slowly before nodding in answer. Her eyes meet his for a moment to make sure he understands the message: I trust you. Do what you think is best.

Witchcraft is always strange to those not accustomed to it and while not inherently linked to magic, it is extremely applicable, especially to a magical life. So Viatorus freely assumes she thinks this is some kind of ridiculous and hopes she finds it helpful.

The lights switch off without even a motion from Viatorus, leaving the two of them working by the glow of the magical light (because good blackout blinds are a must have for a dreamwalker). When Viatorus speaks he adopts a slightly different tone. It's the smallest notch deeper and steadier. Calm. Stable.

"This is a safe space," he informs her firmly. "Nothing can hurt you, nothing can hurt me. We are both safe."

A second passes before he continues. "I want you to close your eyes. Relax. Breathe slowly. Breathe deeply. In through the nose, out through the mouth." Quiet while he does the same. "Each breath deeper than the last." Another breath. "Breathe in as deeply as you comfortably can, and then exhale for as long as you comfortably can." He demonstrates, which she'll easily be able to hear. "Relax your body. Your head... your neck... shoulders... arms... fingers... Your back, your pelvis... your legs and feet. Relaxed."

He takes his time doing this. Setting the scene, making sure she really has relaxed her breathing before he proceeds. "How do you feel? What do you feel?"

The change in his tone of voice, in his general demeanor, is something Amelia didn't expect. She's always felt safe with him, but now? Now she feels it even more. It pulls at her heart for a moment before she pushes it aside to focus on the task set to her.

Relaxing has never been an easy thing for the rogue. Even with nothing to do and everything going smoothly, her mind is always running at full speed, striving to find more things to do. The breathing helps center her now, to give her thoughts a place to go. Deep breaths in through her nose and out slowly through her mouth. It's an easy rhythm for her to find – and one that produces the desired effect very quickly. Her head and shoulders fall forward, her hands start to relax and let go of a bit of the dirt they're holding,

It's almost surprising to hear his voice again, having lost herself so fully in the task she was set with. She resists opening her eyes, but only just. “I'm all right.” A beat and she huffs a small, single laugh. “A little tired, now that I'm relaxed.”

She's still terrified, but she's trying to stay light about all of this. He's doing this for her, for her safety and well-being, and in return she needs to be strong for him. So long as she can keep that in mind, it isn't all bad.

Edited 2016-05-30 18:12 (UTC)

"Good." There's encouragement in that one small word, gentle, upbeat. "Can you feel... an energy? Inside you, buzzing near the surface, perhaps? Making your nerves tingle or the pit of your stomach feel strange?"

"Ahh..." Her brow furrows a bit as she shifts her focus from her breathing to what's actually happening inside of her. That strange electric, almost buzzing sensation he spoke of is present and all at once it's almost too much for her to handle as she tunes into it. Her fingers tingle in an almost painful way and her arms shake under the added strain of keeping still and pushing through the pain. Breathing becomes more of a chore, but she fights to stay calm. She can do this. She has to.

"I-I can feel it - the tingling - and it... it hurts. Why does it hurt...?"

Viatorus frowns. Hard.

"It shouldn't hurt." The honest truth as far as he knows it. He resists the urge to take charge and try an energy exchange or to personally help. Instead he tries to get them back on track. "Step away from it. Leave it alone, leave it be. Focus on your breathing again. On your muscles and bones."

Breathing. Focus on breathing. She can do that. "I'll try."

Relaxing, at this point, isn't happening. Being that she's so good at lying to herself, Amelia attempts to focus on her breathing and convince herself that it doesn't hurt, that it's just a new sensation and nothing more. Her face scrunches in pain for a few moments longer before she's able to push past the worst of it. The feeling is still strange, but at least it's not so noticeably painful anymore. As it subsides, she tries to relax herself again, but it's not nearly as effective this time around.

Slowly, she smooths out the features of her face, but there's still a hint of pain in the way she clenches her jaw a little too tightly. "I'm... I'm all right." Not quite, Amelia. Try again. "I'll be okay." Better.

The frown only gets deeper. It's a sign of how unused to this she is that she acts as if he can't feel it. A swell of irritation washes through him, but subsides just as quickly. He hates that she lies to him, to herself, so easily and so frequently, so adamantly. But part of the swell of energy isn't his, he knows it. Pushing it aside, he continues on.

"I want you to focus on the earth. The ground underneath us, the ground that the soil in your hands came from. Feel it, connect with it. It's vast, and stable, and calm." He waits only a second. "I want you to imagine the light of your magic connecting with the earth. Feel how it feels. Learn from it."

Even with her eyes closed and no way of sensing what he's feeling, she knows he's frustrated - and she knows why. She's heard all of the things people say about her behind her back thousands of times over.

She's too hard on herself. She's too focused on others. She's never happy. She always assumes and acts on the worst instincts. She's selfish, rash, immature, and a general pain to even be around.

She understands and sees all of it.

...but that doesn't make it easier to push away from it.

Here, now, though, she wants to, more than she ever has before. For him, she'll stop fighting herself and actually try.

She takes a slow, deep breath and focuses first on the dirt in her hands, then slowly moves her thoughts on to the ground beneath the apartment they're in. No need to worry about where exactly the dirt came from, only the ground itself. She tries to tap into that stability he spoke of, to use it for herself. It's an odd exercise, but she slowly feels something inside of her change. The tingling subsides, though it doesn't entirely fade. What pain there was fades away completely and she finally relaxes again as it all starts to feel... normal, in a sense.

Still, she wants to make sure she's not completely messing this up. "How do I know if I'm doing this right?"

The smallest smile breaks the seriousness of his unhappy thoughts. How familiar that question feels. It reminds him of younger days hoping to master his techniques and impress his tutors. He's a little kinder that they were.

"You'll know," he assures her. Clearing his throat a little, he nods. "Trust yourself. Do you feel like you're doing it right?"

She opens her mouth to question him further when she thinks better of it. Her focus shifts back to the dirt in her hands and she slowly realizes that tingling has completely faded away from her. It's not gone, but has moved into the dirt instead. Everything feels easier now, much more controlled. No more pain, no more struggles. It's all comfortable without being overly so.

There's something else tugging at the edge of her understanding that she can't quite place. Her mind senses... something outside of herself, but she isn't sure what. Her brow furrows momentarily as she tries to parse it, but any frustration she might feel fades away under a sudden wave of exhaustion as everything normalizes inside of her. She sways heavily to one side, struggling to stay upright.

"I think I must be doing it right," she says with a small laugh. "I don't feel out of control anymore and I'm tired as hell."

"Good." Encouragement seeps back into his voice again. Gentle coaxing now that they've gotten somewhere more productive. "I want you to do it for as long as you want. As long as you feel the need to. You'll know when you're finished."

A pause before he quietly continues, "And then I want you to focus on your breathing, on your body again."

There isn't much more of her left to give to all of this, but she keeps her focus on the ground until she's certain she's about to pass out. When she pulls back from that, she finds the exhaustion is still there, but less present, as if she'd really left something behind in the earth in her hands. It feels more like she remembers exhaustion feeling, more normal, and that makes her feel a little better about all of this.

When she's back to focusing on her breathing, she nods slightly in his direction. "I'm all right now."

"Good," he repeats again gently. "When you're ready, in your own time, you can open your eyes and put the earth back into the box. Then you're done."

He'll wait for her to follow his instructions before he says anything else. It's only once she's opened her eyes and looks more present that he smiles. "How are you feeling?"

Slowly, Amelia opens her eyes and looks up at him. After giving him a tired smile, she places the dirt still in her hands back into the box and then shifts so that she isn't sitting on her feet anymore.

"Better. Much better." She gives him another small smile before covering her mouth as she yawns. No need to mention that she's tired - that much is obvious. "Thank you, for helping me."

"It's the least I could do. I'm just glad I could help."

His smile widens and he gets to his knees in a clunky, awkward fashion that's only made worse by how lanky he is. Once he's up, though, he offers her a hand. "The spare bedroom is just through here. It has an en suite that you can use. And if, somehow, you set something on fire accidentally, my wards will wake me up and tell me, so I can help."

Normally she'd push herself to her feet, but the hand up is a necessary thing right now. She tries not to pull on him too much when she takes his hand and gets to her feet, but it's hard not to cause him to stumble a little. He's not exactly as strong as she is, after all, and her exhaustion only adds to how she handles her own weight.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," she says with a sheepish smile. As she takes a few steps toward the guest room, she motions for him to be on his way to his own room for the night. "Go get some sleep, Viatorus. I can manage until the morning. Promise." No lies this time, because she's certain she's about to pass out in all of her clothes. "Good night."

He'd mention that he has to tidy up except he's fairly certain she'd insist on helping him. Instead he fidgets and nods. "I will. Good night, Amelia."

And then he'll wait for her to leave before tidying up the few things needed for their ritual. It's not long before he's heading to his own room to get some rest.

In spite of her exhaustion from the previous day's events - and her lack of decent rest as of late - Amelia finds herself awake sometime in the hour following dawn. Waking up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room startles her momentarily upon waking, but it fades quickly as her mind catches up and fills in the missing pieces. The whole thing makes her smile and she's soon up and on her feet, eager to start the day. There's control to be learned today so that she can begin learning more magic tomorrow and she's determined to make it happen.

After a quick rinse in the shower in the adjoining en suite, Amelia changes into her fresh set of clothes and makes her way to the living room to set down her things before moving on to the kitchen. It's easy enough to find what she needs to brew a quick pot of tea, and then she's back out in the living room with the pot, two cups (in case Viatorus wakes before the tea gets cold), and a set of more savory biscuits she found while rummaging through the cupboards on a nice tray. With a cup of tea in hand, she settles into the couch and pulls out one of the books she brought with her for study while she waits for Viatorus to wake.

The first person to greet her, is a young tabby cat, orange but for the white belly and socks. It's hard to tell where she came from because she appears out of nowhere, hopping onto the couch next to Amelia to investigate this new person... And if there's anything to pounce on, well all the better!

The sound of movement catches Amelia's attention, but it's not until the cat gets up on the couch that she realizes this isn't who she was expecting to see. She blinks and sets aside her cup of tea, but the pen in her other hand stays firmly in place. Cats get bored easily, right? So she'll be able to get back to her reading and notes soon?

But what does one do with a cat? Isidor wasn't exactly forthcoming and Amelia has no experience with domesticated ones. Might as well talk to it? "Hello?" ...this talking to a cat thing is a little awkward. Sorry little kitty.

"Mooow," it tells her loudly. Then, after giving a little sniff, decides that her laps looks like a good place to sit. No, it doesn't matter if there's a book there. Yes, it is determined to get lap cuddles.

"H-hey, wait a second, I'm--"

Oh, no, apparently it doesn't matter what Amelia wants because kitty thinks it's cuddle time. The rogue blinks down at the cat in her lap, setting aside her pen and grabbing her book so she can continue to read.

"Well, so long as you don't bother me this should be fine." She shrugs and goes back to her reading, holding her book carefully above the settling cat.

Kitty won't bother Amelia. She will pad with her sharp claws and walk circles around the rogue's lap without actually settling though. Almost immediately she starts head-butting the book in Amelia's hands. Then head-butting Amelia's hands. "Mrow?"

"Ouch, hey!" Amelia frowns at her unexpected companion for a moment before focusing back on the book in her hands. Only... it's moving. One of her eyebrows twitches a bit as she continues trying to focus on the book, but that ends quickly when the cat is then nudging her and not her book.

"Dreams, really? Can I not read in peace?" She sighs and sets aside the book before looking down at the cat again. "What is it you want, anyway?"

The cat, in a suitably unhelpful way, looks up at Amelia and starts to purr quietly. It blinks and then starts head-butting her hands again.

"Oh!" Viatorus had finished up his morning routine and now appears, suited in tweed with at least one strand of hair refusing to co-operate. "Here, sorry." He steps over and scoops the small cat off of Amelia's lap, ignoring that the cat has decided that this means play time and has decided to half-heartedly gnaw on his knuckles while he cradles her. "She's, ah, she's probably hungry." He goes to move away, but immediately steps back. "Oh, gosh, you must be too. I'm sorry, I don't really have anything in."

She's about to protest again about the cat's unhelpfulness when Viatorus arrives to save her from that. It's a strange sight, watching him cradle the cat while said cat tries to play with him. There's a moment when she thinks she might laugh at him, but his talk of food shifts her focus enough to prevent it.

"No, no, I'm all right. I found something to tide me over." She motions to the tray with its pot of tea and unopened package of biscuits sitting on it. ...oh, damn, she had intended on eating some of those, hadn't she? "...I guess I forgot about it when I sat down to read, though."

"You can make a start on them now that she's not bothering you," he suggests with a smile and a finger wagging towards the cat. He only pulls a small face when said finger gets bitten.

He steps into the kitchen to feed the cat, washing his hands and then returning to Amelia. "I hope she didn't annoy you too much." His smile takes on a goofy tilt and his fingers knot in a happy fidget. "Her name's Lyra. Isidor got her for me."

Well, she certainly doesn't feel hungry, but since she made the effort to find the biscuits, she should probably humor her host and have a couple. They're... not very good, but she doesn't mention that part when he returns and instead washes them down with the remaining tea in her cup as well as a few sips from a fresh cup.

"She told me she was going to do that, a few months back." Another sip of tea before she frowns down at it. "I guess I haven't spoken to you since your birthday, though, so I didn't even know she'd done so. I'm... I'm sorry about that."

It doesn't even begin to make up for all the time she could-- should have been spending with him, her closest friend in this strange place called the Nexus. But she made things awkward and rather than doing the right thing and working through it with him, she's hidden away from him. True, there were some other issues she was dealing with in the interim, but that's just an excuse and no excuse could be worth doing that to him.

Edited 2016-06-06 05:17 (UTC)

He checks the weight of the pot before pouring himself a cup of tea. Strong, but that's alright. Tea made, he sits into the armchair, rubbing one of the knuckles that Lyra had used as a pincushion. It helps distract him from the reminder of the things they've agreed to ignore.

The smile he pulls is strained but he's determined to be upbeat. "That's alright." Moving swiftly along, he asks, "Did you sleep well?"

She hates seeing those smiles. It makes her heart sink, knowing she's the cause, but she won't linger on it. He's trying to push past it and she'd rather avoid the whole subject as well.

"Very well, thank you." A beat and a small laugh. "I didn't even have a chance to take off my boots before I fell asleep. The bed was far too comfortable and I too exhausted." It would make sense, though, that someone who sleeps as much as Viatorus would have the most comfortable bed she's ever laid on - even if this one is set aside specifically for guests.

"And you? I trust you slept well, too." She offers him a small smile, trying to show she's making an effort to stay upbeat, too.

"Yes. Yes, I did." He answers with a little nod that makes his hair jiggle oddly. As soon as he's answered he can feel the awkward silence settling into the room. It's his job as host to make sure she's not uncomfortable, so he jumps into the next conversation.

"You're already reading again," he comments lightly. His eyebrows shoot up as he realises how he should have led this conversation. "Oh! How are you feeling, by the way?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Of course. I didn't want to wake you, so I thought I'd get more research in." It seems completely logical to her. It's how she's handled everything else at this point, too. Too early for noise in her room at the inn? Either go out or do more research. Research has a tendency to win these days, given her awful sleep schedule, so it made sense to get up and start again once she was awake.

The question gets a small smile. "I feel fine. Normal... I think." She shakes her head a bit and laughs. "I guess I don't really know what 'normal' is anymore, but I'm sure I'll figure it out in time."

There's a short beat of silence as she takes a sip of tea, before she asks, "So, when do we get started on learning control?" Somewhere in her mind she knows he's going to suggest she slow down - she vaguely remembers a conversation about that last night - but she can't help it. She finally has magic and she has no intention of slowing down now.

It might surprise her when he replies, "Oh, immediately."

Now that they're both rested and there's no immediate threat of her burning down everything around her, they need to work on making sure it stays that way. He takes a moment to sip at his tea to help him wake up a little more. To help him think this through. "Firstly I think we'll get you some more reading material. Maybe see if the library has electronic copies. That way we can get you a tablet and you won't burn it to ashes as easily." Another thoughtful sip. "And then we'll introduce you to earth properly, and then maybe water. I'll work through some techniques to help you."

It is surprising that he wants to start right away, but she won't try to stop him. If he wants to get going, it's all the better for her.

And, really, breakfast can always wait for magic.

The comment about the tablet makes her frown, though. "Oh, come on, once I've learned some control it won't matter, right? I don't need another device to keep track of, especially if I'm only using it for reading." Is she... is she pouting at him to try and get her way? Surely he's seeing things and she's just frowning at him. ~~No, that's totally a pout.~~

"Can you show me how you swim, then? After you've introduced me to water? Like you were suggesting at your birthday party?" Despite the fact that this is all very heavy material, she can't help but be excited. Not only does she have magic, she has a friend who genuinely wants to help her learn and understand it. And with someone like Viatorus on her side, surely she can move through the beginning stages of all of this quickly so she can start learning the defensive magicks she's really looking forward to.

The pout is met with a tilt of his head and a look that's only a touch stern. Or what passes for stern in Viatorus' range of expression. "You haven't learnt control yet, and you definitely haven't practiced it. I don't want you burning any more books. We'll get you a tablet."

Her next suggestion makes him pause in surprise. "Oh... Yes, I... I suppose." It takes a few beats for him to factor that into the plan forming. "But first books- No. Tablet, then books. Then introduction to the other elements. Not air, though. Not quite yet."

She sighs, perhaps a bit more dramatically than necessary. "All right. But nothing fancy. I don't need to spend too much on something like this if it's only for reading." If he thought for a second he would be helping out financially for this tablet he's suggested, he's going to be very disappointed.

But his comment about air gets her attention. "Why not air? What's so bad about it?"

It had been his plan, and that she's already trying to foil it has a frown pass briefly across his brow. He's quick to share some of his scholarly philosophy, however. "You can never spend too much on something that's for reading."

"Nothing, but I don't think you're ready for it yet." He sets his cup down again, a stalling move to help him choose his words. "I... believe your connection with fire comes from an emotional, passionate place. That's usually how people connect with fire. Water is like that too. It's an emotional, empathic element, but it's less likely to aggravate the impulsive, combustive properties of fire. It might be a way to channel your emotion into something less... explosive. Earth will help you ground yourself, and let you dictate how fast you get acquainted with your power. It will help with control."

It's not that she wouldn't be grateful for the gift, it's that it's not expected and that she has more than enough money to pay for it herself. Truly, the idea that he would simply want to buy it for her doesn't even cross her mind. "A rare book is worth its weight in gold," she agrees.

As she listens to him explain, she nods slowly. All of that makes sense, based on everything she's been reading. "Control will be good. The last thing I need is to burn down the inn." She's actually rather worried about that. Finding a new place to live would be a little further outside of her comfort zone than she's ready for right now.

But before that thought can settle in, she presses on. "I assume we're not going to practice here so I can't start anything in your home on fire?" It's a poor attempt at a joke, but she's trying and that's what counts, right? "If that's the case, we should get going, because... Oh, what's the phrase I keep hearing... 'No time like now,' or something ...right?" ...she's trying really hard today, okay?

It's with certainty that he amends, "Most books are worth their weight in gold. Knowledge, perspective, it's all invaluable."

"No time like the present," he corrects automatically. It doesn't stir him into action, however. In fact, it brings a small look of disapproval and a sigh. "You're in a rush. Why?"

"Fair." She's not very good the the perspective part, but she'll trust the man who's spent his life studying to know the truth of the matter.

"Ahh! That was it. Right." Mental note made. She'll get it next time, for sure.

His question gets a little hesitation and a slightly pained smile. "I'm a restless person. I always prefer doing something than nothing. If you need time before we get going, I can continue reading, but I'm not going to sit around doing nothing while I wait." That's not all of it, that much is obvious, but she doesn't want to start conversations they've both agreed are best left unsaid.

It's not an entirely satisfactory answer, but it will do. He tries to smooth out the creases on his brow before he speaks. "Well... You're going to have to learn a little patience with this."

He takes up his cup again to sip at it. "Magical ability is like a muscle. You have to train your body for it, you have to train your mind, and you have to set out a routine. Learning how to use it is takes time. Overextend yourself and you could hurt yourself, or other people. It's not even worth risking, because you might hurt yourself so badly that you can never use it properly again."

"All the masters of magic are patient." He holds out a hand, fingers flicking out as he counts. "Oraskis, the Archon, Nathaniel Blackmore, every Healer that has ever graced the family... They all have patience."

"Training and routines are simple enough for me. Once I get started on something, it's easy enough to make it habit." It wouldn't be the first time she's done it and it certainly won't be the last. It's slowing down while she does so that's the issue.

His dropping of names gets a raised eyebrow. "Are these names I should remember for the future...?" Viatorus has mentioned a few names in the past, but the only one that's familiar to her now is the Archon and even that's just a title. "If so, what should I know about them?"

"Can you make not pushing yourself too far a habit too?" If it hadn't been for the watchful eye of his sister and uncle, and the allure of the dreamlands, he might have studied himself into a pit. "You don't have an Isidor to remind you to eat, and I'm no good at remembering for myself let alone anyone else."

"Oh, well... You don't need to," he admits somewhat sheepishly with a small crooked smile and a shrug. "They're my family, so they're not multiversally renowned... But they are all accomplished scholars. They're the masters of magic I know best. Though I don't think you'll be touching on any of their subjects. So no, not really."

A pause. "You might learn a bit about the Archon's work, actually... Maybe... but... not until much, much later."

"...I can try." She walked right into that one, but that doesn't make his reminder any less embarrassing - or his point any less important. Her cheeks flush momentarily before she crosses her arms in front of her chest and exhales to regain her composure.

"I'm curious to know more about your family, but I won't push." Conversations about them in the past were always slightly awkward when she pushed to learn more, hence her wanting to keep her curiosity in check. "As for the rest of it, if you think it would be right for me to learn more about them or what they do, then I trust you'll tell me. If not?" She shrugs her shoulders half-heartedly. "There are always other things to speak of besides magic and family."

Amelia? Backing away from a conversation about family? Either something's very wrong or she's trying very hard to avoid touching on feelings that are still bothering her. Whatever the case may be, she's not meeting his gaze any more.

Edited 2016-06-10 04:39 (UTC)

It's not a solemn promise, but it's something and he'll take what he can get. He smiles at her. "Thank you."

The smile flickers. Where he tried to be casual and relaxed, her reply feels... cool and distant. Maybe she didn't mean to come across that way, but the clear cut response makes him falter. But then, he reminds himself, she's always been good at doing that. The thought has him pulling a softer smile again.

"We have plenty of other things to focus on for now." He tips his head to make sure he has her attention. "I do want you to know that this isn't going to be a quick, or easy thing. I've trained since I was a child, and I'm still training."

One of Amelia's few gifts (or so she would say) seems to be taking conversations from pleasant to sad in the span of a single breath. That she's done it again doesn't surprise her, though her features tug in an pained way for a half second before she focuses on his words, tries to move back to a more positive attitude. ...it doesn't work.

"So even when I have control, I'll be spending the rest of my life fighting to keep it? And, since I'm starting so late in my life, I'm unlikely to impress anyone with what little I can do until I'm too old for it to matter?" She sighs and slouches back into the couch, her arms crossing in front of her chest. "I don't have time to wait. I need to learn as fast as I can, to be good at this now." Why must all of her plans fall apart so quickly? Why must those things that she want always be unattainable? It's not fair and it's that fact, above all else, that makes her frown.

Her words hurt, though he's not entirely sure why. It's... dismissive of his life's calling? Disrespectful of it? He's not sure. He doesn't know. Now is not the time to be mulling over his sudden emotions. It takes him a moment to bury them though.

Taking a deep breath he schools his expression and looks at her seriously. "What do you think about my dreamwalking, Amelia?"

His question is unexpected and she makes no effort to hide the surprise or confusion washing over her face. "I think it's amazing. The way you so easily move through them, change them, and help others is incredible. The way you've described applying it to other situations also shows your skill and dedication, which is equally impressive." A beat and an almost wry smile tugs at her lips. "I admit I don't understand it all that well, but I am no less in awe every time you tell me more about it."

She gets the impression that she missed something - or, more likely, pressed too hard on something she shouldn't have - from the look on his face. "...did I say something wrong before?"

If he answers, they'll get sidetracked, he knows it. Wrong isn't always wrong. It's more complicated than that and right now he needs to focus on explaining something else first. He pushes on, holding her gaze and ignoring her question, at least temporarily.

"If I told you I was going to give it up, because I'll be old by the time I do anything I consider important, or because it takes continuous work... What would you say to me?"

Her eyes widen slightly before a frown settles across her face. "I'd say you were lying - and ask how hard you'd hit your head."

She doesn't like this line of questioning. It can only lead to dark places.

"You wouldn't do that because your magic is a part of you, has always been something that defines you. It's different for you than it is for me."

"It's not something you can get rid of, or abandon." Not true. He knows he's lying, but now is not the time for technicalities. She's not able to appreciate technicalities right now. "You might not have known it until now, but it is a part of you. It will always be a part of you. It will define you whether you use it or not. A power, a skill that's yours. To throw it away, to curse it because it requires... time, effort, respect... because it does not suit your ideal of it..."

He can't even find an appropriate word. Instead he just sighs, frustrated at his inability to articulate himself. At the flippancy she's showing all of this. Giving up, he tilts his head at her. "What did you think it was? A gift that served your every desire with a thought or gesture? Do you think it doesn't come with a cost? With responsibility?"

"It's certainly not a gift, not with what I went through to get it. But I didn't want it for myself - I wanted this for you!"

The moment the words are out, she covers her mouth and looks at him with a look of pure terror on her face. All those months of hiding away, of late nights and skipped meals, of avoiding him altogether, and for what? For her to get magic and feel so overwhelmed by the responsibility of it that she wants to give it up already? For fear that her lack of control and quick progress will have his family turning down her bid to be with him?

How typically, selfishly like herself that is.

Her voice is very small and her words rushed when she speaks again. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I spoke out of turn. Forget I said anything, because it... it doesn't matter, right? We're friends. Just friends." She rubs at her eyes and tries to smile at him, but fails horribly.

Why did she open her mouth to speak? Why is she even allowed to speak? This whole thing is a disaster and she's squarely to blame.

"Me? Why would you want magi-?" The answer smacks him in the face and his confusion vanishes, leaving him stunned. He stares at her for half a second and then looks away to hide a sudden surge of emotion that a moment ago had been firmly locked away. Setting his cup carefully down on the table only buys him seconds.

"Ame..." Her name trails off and he swallows hard, taking a deep breath as he tries to process this without panicking. He desperately wants to panic. His mind already flooded with questions and outcry. Just for a second, he closes his eyes and breathes. When he opens them again, he still doesn't look at her, keeping his pained, confused frown directed at anything but her. "Why... Why would you do something like this? How...? In the hope that... I am not worth that. I was never worth that."

And yet she did it. She did it for him. How many people does he think would go to half that much effort him? And he can't offer her anything in return. He, whose marriage is the one being discussed, can do nothing. That's just the way things are. It's just the way things are.

He spots his hands shaking and brings them together, rubbing his knuckles in an attempt to steady them. Slamming his eyes shut again, he looks away. "There are thousands of... of better men. Men who can... Men who wish..."

"Yes you are." It's all right if he can't look at her right now, because she can't look at him either. "You are worth every pain, every struggle, every terrible thing that could possibly happen to me now. I would go through all of it time and again for even the smallest chance to be with you, to prove to your family that I'm enough." It hurts to say these things. Worse, she's certain it hurts him even more, but now that she's started this conversation, she has to follow it through to its end. To the end she's almost certain she knows is coming.

She smiles sadly to herself and rests her forearms on her thighs, leaning forward with a sign. "No one wants to be with me, Viatorus. I'm not kind or sweet or innocent - or any number of things that would make me desirable. I'm rash. I'm headstrong. I fight when I should settle. I push hard on people to get what I want and I get angry when I don't get my way. No sane person would want that in their life - and you shouldn't either. That's what makes this all the more confusing and painful for us both."

It's selfish of her to act this way, to try and convince him that she's not worth his time or effort, but she feels like it might be for the best. He can't choose for himself and if she can give him reasons why he'd be better off without her as a partner? That's all for the better. It'll hurt like hell, but if it can save their friendship, she'll do it. For a chance to stay close to him, to be with him in any way, she would do anything.

"Don't worry about me - I'll be fine, really."

"That's what you said last time," he points out before he can help himself. "And then you studied magic until you unlocked your own, all for..."

Suddenly his fidgeting is a wonderful thing to stare at. His thumb rolling back and forth over his knuckles repeatedly and roughly. "I-It's not that no one wants you, A-Amelia. Y-You're beautiful and passionate, and..." Viatorus tries to take a deep breath but somehow it becomes shallow, short. "I-I can't be a-allowed to want..."

He closes his eyes and his fingers interlock, straining against each other as he lifts his thumbs to help him explain. He speaks slowly, giving him time to pull all the words from the mouths of his family. "My marriage... isn't about me. I-It's about my children. I-It's about my... my ancestors. It's... It's about... not me. Not about wants. I can't... think selfishly about this, Amelia, I... It's not how this works."

She sighs softly. "It is that no one wants me, Viatorus. No one approaches me. I have the air of a woman who isn't worth the trouble she'll bring. I know this. I could change this, but to do so would mean denying who I am." Sure, changing would mean she could have anyone she wanted, but what does it matter when her heart only wants him?

"I'm not asking you to be selfish and I would never ask you to choose me." She would never ask him to defy his family or their traditions. Family comes before all else. Even before speaking with Isidor about what happened the first time she spoke of her feelings she understood that. But this is how she feels and dreams be damned, she has to say it.

"Hell, if anything, I'm the one being selfish - telling you things that are best left unsaid. I'm confusing you and it hurts to know that, but I can't... I can't stop myself." She frowns and sighs, letting her head hang in shame. "You deserve better than someone like me anyway and I'm certain your family will find you a fine wife. And then you can be happy and forget this whole fucking mess I started ever happened."

It's getting harder to keep control, to not get angry with herself for doing this, but she's trying. Because if she keeps going, she can surely trick him into saying those words she needs to hear to free them both from this curse she's put them under by admitting her feelings.

The more he listens, the more he hears the tumult of emotion pouring into each word, hers and his own. He can't differentiate them anymore. They're too strong, too much. His hands unknot and run through his hair instead, bringing his head down as if he might protect his mind from this chaos somehow.

"Stop it," he says, but his voice is barely a whisper. He's louder when he repeats, "Stop it. Please."

Don't cry. Ignore the pain in your chest. Swallow down the lump in your throat. Breathe. Lift your head. Why won't you lift your head?

"Y-You're lying. Y-You're lying, and... and I know you think it... it helps, but... it doesn't." It just makes him feel helpless. Again. He's always helpless. His fingers curl in, bunching up his hair in his fists. "I... don't know... what to do. I... don't know what to... to say."

She wants to stop this. She doesn't want to say these things. She wants to comfort him and tell him it's all right and that things will work out for the best for both of them. But it won't get better, not in the way they might want. He can't choose her and she'll never be able to convince his family she's worthy.

This childish dream she had is over.

"You don't have to say anything, because we both know I'm right." He can deny it all he wants, but it's true. According to his family, he deserves more. And he'll get it, because that's how families like his work. "My feelings don't matter and you don't have a choice. That I let myself have these feelings for you... Fuck, I never should have..." A beat and she shakes her head. "Any time I ever try anything I fuck it up."

She pushes herself to her feet suddenly and paces the room slowly, her footsteps not making any sound despite her heavy boots. It's a habit for her to stay silent as she paces like this, to make herself as unnoticeable as possible. "I should never have said anything, Viatorus, and I'm so sorry I ever did."

He can't stop his head from spinning. He doesn't want this. He doesn't want to deal with this. He's sorry. He's so sorry. It hurts. He wishes- He feels- No. He can't feel anything. He doesn't have a choice. He's not allowed. He doesn't want this. And round and round it goes.

As much as she says he doesn't have to say anything, he feels like he must, like he should. But what? She is right about two things: Neither of their feelings matter, and he doesn't have a choice. What more is there to be said?

It's not that simple, though. He'd thought- hoped that they'd dealt with it in their last discussion. Yet instead of resolving it, they had ended up here.

"What do we do now?" He finds himself wondering aloud. But the first thoughts that come to him are unhappy ones. What Isidor might say. That they should stay away from each other. What his uncle would say. That he should forget Amelia and ignore her.

"I can't do this," he announces a split second later. "I c-can't do this." And he springs from his seat to head back into the room, seeking some kind of reprieve from all of this.

As he passes, she reaches for him - but she doesn't actually touch him. She can't reach out to him, not now. It would only hurt them both if she did. Instead, she lets him pass by and doesn't say anything, her gaze falling to the floor.

Why did she do this? Why did she bother to say anything? It's only hurt them both. All of this... mess that they've found themselves in is going to be painful no matter what they do now and it's all her fault.

With a soft sigh, she sits back down on the couch and pours herself a fresh cup of tea with shaking hands. It's almost cold now, but she doesn't care. She hasn't come to terms with this yet, even if she's known for a long time it could never be, but it's obvious he's going to need even more time to let this pass.

So she'll wait - quietly, alone with her guilt - for her friend to come back. Until then, she'll try and figure out how the hell to apologize for something like this.

Once the door closes behind him, he leans back against it and slides to the floor. Suddenly he can breathe a little easier, though his head spins slightly. This is ridiculous. It's him. It's him. Lanky and knobbly and awkward. The mouse of the Durant family. He shouldn't be dealing with this. Sagyne should be dealing with this. Probably has dealt with this. For a second, Viatorus considers calling to ask for advice, but then Poenia would find out and... no.

He scrubs his head, hoping it will help him think, desperately wishing someone else would deal with this. Isidor would. But he might never see Amelia again. No... He has to handle this. What a terrible thought.

Closing his eyes, he breathes calmly, evenly. Waits for the pains in his chest and throat to settle. Then, slowly, he gets up and finds himself a little light headed. He puts a hand out, holding onto the wall to steady himself, but when his head clears, he realises what he's going to do.

With his hand on the doorhandle, he hesitates, feels the mounting fear threatening to pull him back into an anxious wreck. His hand pulls back, and he immediately winces at the cowardly move. The second time, he takes a deep breath but pushes the handle down quickly, moving into the room before he has a chance to back out.

"Before you say anything, I-I think we need to put this behind us. Isidor can never know. It wouldn't do any good, and- We both know that we can't have that life, we both know that. And one day you'll have a husband and I'll have a wife and this will all be forgotten, but we can't get there if we talk about this ever again. But..." For the first time since he entered the room, he pauses. "I... I think we need to make sure we've said all we feel we need to say. So... So we don't regret things. So we don't keep thinking about the things left unspoken." A pause and he shifts awkwardly on the spot, his nerves catching up with him. "What... What do you think?"

She doesn't attempt to speak when he comes out of his room. The serious look on his face and the subtle shake of fear make it difficult for her to breathe, but she pushes through. This is the end she knew was coming, so she has to see this through.

Truly, this is for the best.

When he finishes, she takes a breath to steady herself before speaking. "I agree with everything you've said. This is..." painful, heartbreaking, "necessary, for us both. We both need to break free from this and getting everything out in the open before we put it behind us is the best solution." The most painful as well, but that part need not be said.

Carefully, she folds her hands in her lap to give herself an extra moment to think. "Would you like to go first or should I?" Honestly, she'd prefer he go first, so she has a little more time to recover from her own outburst, but she won't force him. As painful as it is, she still loves him and she would do anything to make this easier on him.

It's on the tip of his tongue to tell her to go ahead and say her bit. A moment's thought reminds him that it's highly likely he'd panic and back away if he tries to speak without this surge of energy.

"I..." He looks from the floor to Amelia. It's a difficult move, but he needs her to see that he's earnest. "I want you to know that I'm sorry." A beat instead of a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I really am sorry."

Why is this so terrifying? Suddenly he finds himself drained and his gaze floats over to the chair furthest away from Amelia. He starts to drift over to it, hand outstretched as if he expects to fall. Part of him does. He feels weak. Sick.

"I wish I could tell you how much it means that... that you would... would care so much about me. I've done nothing to deserve it. I wish I could live up to what you see in me. I wish I could... repay what you've done for me. I wish you hadn't done so much." Finding the seat, he guides himself into it slowly. "In the end, the only thing I bring anyone is disappointment."

His head falls into his hands for a second so that he can take a deep breath and compose his expression. When they fall away, he looks at Amelia seriously. "I... I want you to know that this... this. This is no reflection on you. It's... It's my family's tradition. It's not a comment on how men, on how anyone sees you. If I could-." He stops himself, and looks at his hands again. Goes quiet. "If I could consider returning your affections... I'm sure I would." A slow, deep breath. "I-I-I wanted you to know that. I don't want you thinking badly of love because of me."

She listens to him with a calm, neutral expression despite the tears running down her cheeks. Even if this hurts, even if it's the worst thing she's ever been through, she won't break down - not here, not yet. They both need the chance to get through their piece before they can move on.

"I know you don't mean to hurt me." Dreams, why is her voice so weak? She's certain a moment ago it was strong, but now it's caught in her throat and the effort to push it out is excruciating. "I knew your family's traditions long ago, and yet..." Her eyes drop from his, but she doesn't turn away. "I hurt us both by admitting to something that could never be, by being the selfish, horrible person I am and for that I can never be forgiven. I don't deserve to be forgiven. I-it's so unfair to you. I shouldn't have done this. Dreams, I wish I had never--"

With a sharp intake of breath, she cuts herself off. If she follows down that particular path, she won't ever find her way off of it. She inhales slowly, but doesn't exhale. "I won't take any of this personally. It's not your fault. I have only myself to blame." Another breath, but this time she lets it out slowly. "You're a wonderful person and any woman would be lucky to be your wife." And even from afar I'll envy her. "You deserve every happiness and kindness the multiverse has to offer, Viatorus, even if you don't see it. Don't ever think so little of yourself - you do yourself such harm by being so hard on yourself."

And now... the hard part. Slowly, she rubs away a few of the tears in her eyes, ignoring those escaping down her cheeks, and looks back up at him, trying to meet his gaze if he'll allow it. "I love you, Viatorus, but I will never hurt you again by saying so. I hope that you'll be able to forget this ever happened and be happy with whomever you marry, that you live a long and happy life with her and never be distracted from that."

With one final breath, she sighs softly. "But before we move on... can I ask a favor?"

Hearing that she doesn't blame him lifts a weight and he's able to lift his head again to look at her. When he hears who she does blame, his expression falls in dismay. He leans towards her, trying to tell her with his eyes that he thinks no such thing. Trying, without interrupting her, to assure her that it wasn't her fault. She's not to blame. If anyone is, it's him for adhering to the traditions of long dead men. But not her. Never her.

It's on the tip of his tongue to say something, to reassure her, when she offers another way of helping. The idea of a favour distracts him completely. He eagerly answers, "Yes, of course. Anything."

In this moment, she doesn't want his comfort. If anything, she'd prefer to be hurt so that all of this would actually feel right, like she knows it should.

Hence her asking for the most awful favor.

"I know this isn't in your nature and you're going to tell me this isn't necessary, but I need you to do this - for both of us." She keeps her eyes locked on his as her hands come together and grip each other tightly, needing the support. She doesn't want him to notice how difficult this is for her. "Tell me you don't love me. No more of this 'I can't,' because that leaves doors open. I don't care if you mean it or not, make us believe it's true and set us both free from this. If you don't, we'll both always wonder if, just maybe, we could have found a way. There will be something to hold on to, something to dream about, and we can't have that. You can't think about what could have been and I need to let you go."

The more she explains her request the further back he pulls, watching her, confusion and a touch of shock. This couldn't be further from what he wanted. His head trembles as he shakes his refusal. "I-I can't. I can't do that. Why would I...? I can't. That would be so... I can't."

This was the reaction she was expecting, but it's not the one she wants. Nothing about this is going to be easy, but it must be done anyway.

"You can do it and you must." Her voice is firm and unwavering. "Don't you see that simply walking away from this conversation won't be enough? To leave the door open, even the smallest amount, will only make this harder for both of us. I can convince my heart that this never meant anything, but I need you to tell me you don't love me first."

A beat, and then she adds, "If you don't, then I will never be able to fully move past this."

He turns away with a wince as though physically pained. Silence fills the room as he grapples with her request. It's several long beats before he quietly says, "It's so cruel. So... unnecessary and cruel. I don't want to."

It's hard for her to fight the rising tide of anger in her. This only gets harder the more he fights back, the more he pushes on her, the more he tries to help by refusing her request. She shifts to cross her arms in front of her chest and grips her elbows tightly. She has to keep control or they'll never speak after this moment.

Time for a much less kind approach.

"I understand your resistance, and I hope you realize this isn't something I want either, but it's something I need. Don't you think I'd rather live in this fantasy where, someday, maybe, we could find a way to make this work? Where all of my efforts might prove to be worth something?" She shakes her head and sighs. "You and I both know that this conversation ends any possibility of that as I won't put in a bid to be your wife now that you've asked me not to speak of this to Isidor." A beat to let that detail sink in before she asks, "Don't you care enough about me to let me free of that dream? Can't you see that holding this back will only hurt me more?"

There's a harshness to her words which makes him fluster. His small request suddenly something Amelia's resentful of, and every action laid out before him is one of wickedness. His cheeks turn red, his eyes start to as well. He wants to tell her that's not what he meant, but... then that would be unkind as well. Hope and hopeless are both unfair here, and he feels the fear rise again as he makes what will inevitably be the wrong decision, no matter what he picks.

He pulls away from her, pressing into the chair as if it might hide him. A hand starts rubbing his chest and neck, hoping that might calm the stress curling around it and restricting his breathing. "I don't want to. Don't... Don't ask me to. Amelia... please... I... Let's just... stop."

Edited 2016-06-17 16:25 (UTC)

Fuck. Everything.

"I can't." She almost scoffs at him, but manages to hold it back at the last second, making a small noise of frustration instead. There's no room for saying the wrong things anymore. With a sigh she pushes herself to her feet and begins to pace silently again. "If this doesn't end here, now, it never will for me. I will always be wondering, always hoping, always willing to do something incredibly stupid that will hurt both of us later - likely exposing this conversation to your family and getting you in more trouble than imaginable. I don't want that. I don't want this either, but I would never forgive myself if I got you in trouble like that."

Another, much more frustrated, sigh. "I just want to be free, Viatorus. I want to not feel these things anymore. I want to let you go and to move on. But right now, without hearing those words from you, I just fucking can't." Her gaze falls on him finally as she stops pacing, stern and unrelenting. She won't back down from this. She can't - not now, not when they're so close to getting out.

This is horrible. This is entirely horrible. A thought which circles around his head until he finds himself just wanting her to stop. Wanting this to end. Which is exactly what she wants too. She's already told him what to do to end this. In the end, it's the only thing he can give her.

His hands curl up and he pulls them into himself. When she stop to look at him, pleading with her eyes, she catches his gaze and he just... stares at her. Then, slowly, his eyes slide downwards, his jaw trembling as he struggles to breathe.

Just. Say. The words.

"I... I... don't... love you."

The moment he says the words, she closes her eyes. Ignoring the tears rolling down her cheeks, she takes a slow, deep breath and then exhales at that same slow pace.

Finally. Release.

When she opens her eyes a minute later, she throws a sad smile in his direction. Now that she's free, she can say all those things that will make this right between friends again. She can take his words as true and act on them as if the whole messy conversation leading to them had never happened. "I'm sorry, Viatorus. I never should have said anything. I... I should have realized your feelings. And I do understand them, really. Please, forgive me and... don't tell Isidor. I don't want to cause you any trouble by having said such things." A noble suggestion, even if she doesn't mean it.

That little bit out of the way, she looks around the living room awkwardly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "...I suppose I should be on my way, then. I mean, learning control is important, but I can just read and practice on my own, right?" Maybe talk of magic will make her exit easier for him. It's probably a vain hope, but she has to try something.

He can't look at her. He can't even bring himself to move apart from the gradual lowering of his eyes. It had never felt so final before. So heavy. So defined. It was as though saying this, now, to Amelia, he had carved it in stone and declared it loudly to the multiverse: I renounce romance. I renounce love. I renounce happiness for the bloodline.

The powers that be should be content with this, he thinks to himself. These words put a cut across two hearts. An excessive tribute.

Amelia's words sink in eventually and he closes his mouth, swallows, and nods. He doesn't want to speak anymore. He doesn't want to bear the weight of her disappointment anymore. Between what he knows he will see in her face and the despair tearing at him from inside, he's sure he'll simply be obliterated if he has to weather this much longer.

Neither of them wants this. Neither of them deserves this, either. But what choice do they have? She would never ask him to choose her over his family and their traditions. It simply means this wasn't meant to be - and that she was right when she thought she was better off alone.

Without another word, she packs up her things as quietly as possible. It hurts so much to see him like this, to know she has to leave when all she wants to do is comfort him, but she will do what's best. For both of them. They don't need whatever this could have been. They can find happiness with someone else when they're told they can. They can do what's best for everyone else and forget themselves.

Those are the lies she'll tell herself to get over this, at least.

When she has everything, she steps over to the door and looks back over her shoulder at him as she opens it. She frowns and it's a strain to get out the last two words to seal their fate.

"Goodbye, Viatorus."

Edited 2016-06-22 13:55 (UTC)

Though his lips part and his jaw trembles, the words just don't come. Instead he closes his eyes, his mouth, ducks his head and nods again. To say goodbye, on top of everything... What if she doesn't come back? What if she can't stand him anymore?

He digs his fingers into his hand to stop him from saying something stupid, from acting out of fear or worry. She'll come back. Or he'll go to her. As friends. But... right now... they need to part. He needs to let her go.

A turn of magical events [Tagging Viatorus]

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