Amelia Eva Steinbeck 📚 Teacher 📚 Witch 📚 Available for pop culture consultation regarding the arts, literature, and other foreign mediums of expression.
NOTE
I will block at my discretion. You have been warned.
Message @steinbeck
BIRTHDAY DIRECTORY QR CODE
NAME: Amelia Eva Steinbeck BIRTHDAY: February 28th FAV CAKE FLAVOR: Mixed berries, whipped cream, and lemon curd
WHAT THEY WANT MOST FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY: For her AP Lit. class to pass their test w/ a 3 or higher.
[He does not immediately give voice to his thoughts, but only because he is so awestruck by the pains she has gone to that he cannot quite find the words— if she were to take a moment to glance at him, she would see that his eyes have gone wide as he lightly, delicately runs his fingers over the handmade covers and along the spines, understanding full well just how much care goes into such things when magic is left by the wayside.]
You made these yourself?
[He sounds equal parts surprised and impressed, and immediately reaches over to place a hand over hers in her lap, exhaling as he looks to her.]
They're perfect. I've never received anything like them— you took so much care, I almost hate to ruin them with my own writing, but journals are meant to be used, yes?
[He smiles again, giving her hand a squeeze.]
I can think of nothing that would suit me better.
[Unsurprisingly, she knows him exceptionally well.]
[When she hears his response, she looks up and smiles in return when he squeezes her hand. There's a hint of relief as well, as if she had been holding her breath in anticipation for his reaction. Amelia shouldn't have been too worried to begin with, but this was most important; he's shown her in so many ways he cared and she wanted to push her own capacity to do the same.
She squeezes his hand back.]
If nothing else Gale, I can always make more once you're done using these or if something goes awry with them.
In that case, I shall have to keep that offer in mind while I write at great length and with tireless consistency.
[Just as he near always has a great deal to talk about, he has a great deal to write about as well— even beyond his various research pursuits. It's already occurred to him that at least one of these ought to be for detailing the things the two of them have found during their explorations of the hotel— it would be quite fitting, and that time spent together is something he has come to hold very dear, indeed.]
At the risk of being overzealous— [He pauses to give a playful wince, his smile betraying any effort he might have made to make it seem real.] I have something for you, as well.
Always and ever, though I'm afraid I've become rather predictable.
[The remark fails to be a true lamentation, and he carefully sets the journals she'd put so much time and effort into safely beside him so that he can reach into his suit jacket and produce a small, rectangular box in simple red wrapping.]
I can't claim to have made it myself, but I may have made some modifications.
[He holds it out to her in offering, though there's just a hint of apprehension in his gaze— he's uncertain if the gift he's chosen is, perhaps, a step over the line into the realm of 'too much,' but it certainly felt right.]
[Amelia accepts the small rectangular box and smooths the red wrapping with her palm before carefully unraveling it and opening the lid. And what is it that she finds within?]
[Inside the box is a simple but lovely gold bracelet, a single rose with a simple gold chain to secure it. He's never asked her for the story behind her pendant, but he knows from observation just how important it is to her, for reasons beyond her admiration for the flower.
Gale lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he watches for her reaction, preparing an explanation of what, exactly, he'd done.]
It's— enchanted with an amplified spell of Sending. When we were all forced to take refuge in the lounge some weeks back, we discussed it being useful to have a way to get in touch with one another in case of danger. Sending will allow us to speak freely across a great distance— not outside of the hotel, just yet, but I'm working on that.
[Consider this a stepping stone.]
Of course, it's not only for practical reasons, but I thought you might enjoy that bit.
[It's simple yet elegant, not at all overdone. And more than just being a pretty trinket, it's useful and modified with communication with one another in mind. Their future.]
Gale... It's lovely. And that Sending spell is clever and...
[She takes the bracelet out of its box and holds it in her palm where the gold catches the light and gleams. When Amelia's eyes fall upon the rose charm, without thinking, she automatically reaches up to touch her chest where her pendant usually sits.
No, she wasn't wearing it tonight. She hadn't thought about it, hadn't thought about—
Wait.
There's an indistinguishable expression in her eyes, some sort of realization as she continues to look at the golden rose.
How long has it been since I thought about him...?
Her mind scrambles, trying to trace back to the gap in her memory where her recent ones began to override the fragments she had clung onto for years and years. There was that dream perhaps during New Years. What had she dreamed about again?
She resumed walking towards the sea. Before she went any further she turned to ask if he could come with her.
But when she turned around he was gone.
The realization could have relieved her, should have relieved her. But instead, Amelia swallows down the all-too familiar sensation that begins to crawl under her skin, wrapping around her ribs, and plunging into the old wound within her heart.
Fear. Panic. Shame.
She's forgetting.
Awful. Unforgivable. How could I?
For a moment she looks frozen in place before she clutches the bracelet between both of her hands and hugs it against her chest. A deep breath is taken and she moves, resting her forehead against Gale's chest as if she just remembered he was sitting in front of her.]
[He feels a sense of relief come over him, her initial reaction confirming that he hadn't ventured a step too far, but the shift in her expression that follows causes his own smile to falter. He cannot quite read her gaze, cannot tell when it is that troubles her at a glance, but he is certain that it's not about him— it's something older than that, something with deep roots, something written in one of the chapters she's yet to share with him.
There's a flash of something in her gaze as she sits there frozen, something that summons up the memory of their standing amongst the roses in the Vale, the raw heartbreak he'd glimpsed for but a moment as she had been unable to keep the tears from falling after being reminded of her past.]
Amelia, are you—?
[Her forehead comes to rest against his chest before he can ask if she's alright, and in that same moment gently takes her by the shoulders, then drops an arm around her middle in a reassuring embrace, deciding he doesn't much care who sees.]
I can't help but feel I've made a terrible misstep.
[Stirred up an unwelcome memory without realizing it, perhaps.]
[There's a rustling movement from her, a head shake without looking up and her voice comes out sharp contrasting the hushed way she replies.]
It isn't you. I'm just—
I'm just like this. I'm always like this. I'm always the same.
[The bracelet sits heavy in her palm and she squeezes it tightly.]
I miss him.
[She would never see him again.]
But I have someone here with me. I want him, I want to be with him, I want to see what the future is like for once—
[ (And yet it would mean letting go, forgetting him, what did his smile look like again, how did I feel when they told me they loved me more than they could ever promise, how could he leave me, why wasn't I strong enough, how could I be happy when he's gone, does it mean I love him less, it's going to happen again, why can't I be happy now, why, why, whywhywhywhywhyy—?)
Amelia knows that everything she's felt and done with Gale is true and precious. Different. Hadn't she made it plain internally and externally to him that she didn't want to be afraid?
Fear remains. Guilt twists her insides and rots her senses. She needs to hold onto someone, anyone.
Gale. Gale is here. Gale could...
How could she do this to him?
Her arms find their way around his shoulders, an anchor as her mind becomes a storm.]
[Not his fault, and yet he cannot help but feel he had done something to bring this about, to stir the feelings that had taken her over so completely. It wasn't often that Amelia allowed herself to be vulnerable; even with him, someone who had earned her complicit trust, it was a rarity.
It was even less often that what she allowed to show through was hurt, but he knows that's precisely what he sees in her now, pain that runs far deeper than even he could have guessed. So much of her past remains shrouded in mystery, chapters he's not yet had the opportunity to read, but he knows full well that much of her life had been touched by isolation, by unhappiness, by loss.
His brows draw downward as he gives a worried frown, closing his arms around her as she anchors herself to him, gathering her against his chest and bringing a hand to gently rest against the back of her head.]
[Her voice is muffled as she continues to press herself around him. She feels her eyes beginning to well up and the streaks of silent tears running down her cheeks.]
I don't know how.
[She thought that everything up until now was good enough. The witch's heart had softened towards this wizard and she had done her best to give it in return for his. But she did not know how to give up the hurt that had been done to her. For all her power, she lacked the strength to give him the world.
Amelia knows she can't continue the night like this, vaguely aware of the seconds and minutes flying away from them. The years have caught up to her and once again she is awash with the sensation of being her true age, old and decrepit, if not in her appearance, at least in her heart and mind.]
[That request, he can most certainly grant. He can feel the tears caught by the front of his shirt, and he tightens his hold on her just the slightest bit, as though fearful she might slip away.]
For as long as you wish.
[He glances out towards the restaurant as a whole; no one seems to have noticed them, off to the side as they are, but the place suddenly feels far too crowded. Privacy suddenly feels paramount.]
I think we've been out long enough, don't you? [His voice is soft, gentle rather than showing any sign of disappointment or dismay, though the worry he feels instead does manage to peek through.] I can whisk us back to your room within moments— I think a bit of quiet is in order.
[She's afraid of slipping away and losing herself to the crippling loss that plagues her past, present, and future. Gale, even with his losses and everything going against him, is still here with her against all odds.
So when he offers to bring them back to her room, she silently nods and loosens her grip without drawing back completely.]
Let's go. And please... Stay with me tonight.
[It sounds like she's asking for so much, as if there's something selfish behind it. But if it's Gale, she knows he wouldn't refuse, not now in her vulnerable state.]
[His response is immediate— it had not required a single moment of thought; staying with her seemed natural, the only logical choice, especially when she was in this state, and yet she sounds as though she considers it a favor, as though it's somehow burdening him. That could not be further from the truth.]
There's nowhere I would rather be.
[He gently tucks her head beneath his chin as he embraces her fully, and the spell that follows is seamless— there's a slight tugging sensation as they're pulled through the ether, but the chatter of the restaurant falls away and they find themselves surrounded by the quiet comfort of Amelia's own sitting room.
He loosens his own hold only slightly as they find themselves on her familiar sofa, exhaling steadily.]
[One of her wind chimes that hangs from the ceiling, softly tingles as if to welcome them back. The lights in her room are dim and the illusory outside reflects a dark evening sky.
Amelia's chest rises and falls as she lays against Gale's chest, her arms slackening, but not away from him. For a long moment, all is silent with only the barely perceptible tick of one of her clocks filling the air.
She finally speaks up, quietly and wearily.]
It's not your fault.
[She repeats herself for his sake. Just being here for her and holding her like this helps somewhat.]
[For that long moment, he simply allows her to be, drinking in the near-silence, letting the faint tick of the clock keep him calm even as worry eats at him— it was so rare, to see Amelia anything but composed, let alone to see her distressed. When she finally speaks, he gently cards his fingers through her hair to offer reassurance, making no move to pull away, his arm still securely around her middle as she rests against him.]
I'm sorry if I— perhaps stirred a memory that would have been best left untouched.
[It's all he can think of at the moment, even if she insists it wasn't his fault. He exhales steadily, dropping a chaste kiss against the top of her head.]
... Just stay like this for a little longer. That's all.
[It speaks volumes that she keeps him here with her instead of turning away and casting him out. Years ago, Amelia hated having anyone see her in pain, even Michael who had already witnessed it firsthand. To show weakness was a type of failure, and failure meant pain, death, or both. It was something that the Witch King had engrained in her, a survival instinct.
She focuses on Gale's touch, his fingers through her hair, and the weight of him beneath her. His voice and kiss on her head draw her back to the present.
For a couple of seconds, she says nothing. When Amelia does speak up, her voice is quiet and serenely somber.]
When you grew your skills in magic... What was it like?
[An odd question; it's almost like redirection, but it had more purpose behind it, subtle as it was.]
[He only nods in response, confirming with a gentle tightening of his embrace. As he'd said before, he would stay here with her exactly like this for as long as she wished— if she needed him, there was nothing else he would rather do.
There's a weighted pause before he answers her question. He knows what his answer will be with certainty, but what he's learned of her past, of how her teacher had abandoned her when he was through—
He knew just enough to know that the pursuit of magic had been a very, very different experience for the two of them.]
It did. I cast my first spell when I was but a babe— it always felt as though it was what I was meant to do. I felt called to it. At the time, I had believed magic itself to be the love of my life. It was my entire heart, my world.
[It was as much a part of him as the very blood in his veins, and remained so, even if his perspective had broadened.]
[Her heartbeat has slowed down, its pulse steady against Gale's chest. She focuses on his voice and how he recalls his experiences with magic. He may have embroiled himself in harsh, life threatening circumstances, but he was still him. Warm, kind, devoted and wanting her as she is. Magic was his world, and that came with both the good and the bad.
Had she ever been able to truly accept the ails that magic had rained down upon her?
There's silence again for a couple of seconds before she speaks again.]
When my teacher, the Witch King, revealed the world to magic to me as a child... I felt special. The life I knew before, the one where the arcane and mysteries of the world were simply fanciful stories, was dull and less bright.
[Her fingers curl into his sleeves.]
But I was a fool. A child who fell in love with the glamor without understanding what I was throwing away.
[He's patient, allowing her to speak and share in her own time rather than urging her onward, though a frown does tug at the corners of his lips when she at last does so. What little she has shared of her past with him, she has always done so with hesitance, caution; it had been plain enough that her youth had not been a happy one, and he has known for some time now that should he have the opportunity to learn more, he would only come to disapprove of her teacher even more than he already had.
Her fingers curl into his sleeve, and he tightens his hold around her waist ever-so-slightly, offering what small bit of security he can.]
That was hardly your fault. You are not a fool.
[On that, he will stand firm.]
Your teacher took advantage of your youth and offered you a choice that no child could ever possibly be equipped to make, even one so brilliant as I'm certain you must have been. That he did so was cruel and unfair, but no fault of your own, Amelia.
[They're familiar words, ones that remind her of Michael and Berna who understood the Witch King's nature, and of Adam whose face twisted with anger on her behalf when he realized the gravity of her situation.
It's so strange, even after all these years, about having people who cared especially when it was too late.]
... He's only ever done one thing I would consider good.
[But it might as well have been the worst and he had no hand in instrumenting what happened next.]
That one good thing is gone now. And it only reminded me that I'm so very human...
[She closes her eyes trying to center herself against Gale again.]
[His brow furrows, that frown of his persisting as he gently cards his fingers through her hair, letting his thumb brush against her cheek as it moves past.]
Being human is not so terrible. We are vulnerable, yes— but capable of so much more than many would give us credit for.
[The human spirit could be a truly wondrous thing, though he had also seen it bent to wicked deeds.]
What he did... it's related to what you heard in the Vale that day, yes?
[She had heard the voice of someone who had loved her dearly. Someone who was no longer with them.]
[She doesn’t reply at first. That day in the Vale wasn’t so long ago and yet Amelia realizes that her memory of their voice felt faint. The words, she could remember, but the past was ebbing away from her in ways she wasn’t prepared for.]
… Gale.
[Amelia slowly lifts herself up and pulls away from Gale, but not without letting her hands move to intertwine with his fingers. Her eyes don’t meet his, but instead focuses on his palms.]
What did you think about that voice you heard back there? About what he said?
[He hesitates as well, choosing his words with care. There was much about their day in the Vale that had stayed with him, and the memories that it had chosen to confront the both of them with remained fresh in his mind, as though it had been hours instead of months.]
I thought that whoever the voice belonged to, they must have loved you very, very much.
[That was an understatement, given the words that had been used, and given Amelia's reaction at the time.]
You told me then that it was a wonderful memory— and while it was already clear they were quite special to you, I imagine they must have been worthy of you, as well.
[What little he knows about her past... he can only imagine the circumstances of such a bond had to have been extraordinary.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
You made these yourself?
[He sounds equal parts surprised and impressed, and immediately reaches over to place a hand over hers in her lap, exhaling as he looks to her.]
They're perfect. I've never received anything like them— you took so much care, I almost hate to ruin them with my own writing, but journals are meant to be used, yes?
[He smiles again, giving her hand a squeeze.]
I can think of nothing that would suit me better.
[Unsurprisingly, she knows him exceptionally well.]
no subject
She squeezes his hand back.]
If nothing else Gale, I can always make more once you're done using these or if something goes awry with them.
It's the least I can do for you.
no subject
[Just as he near always has a great deal to talk about, he has a great deal to write about as well— even beyond his various research pursuits. It's already occurred to him that at least one of these ought to be for detailing the things the two of them have found during their explorations of the hotel— it would be quite fitting, and that time spent together is something he has come to hold very dear, indeed.]
At the risk of being overzealous— [He pauses to give a playful wince, his smile betraying any effort he might have made to make it seem real.] I have something for you, as well.
no subject
Of course you do.
[The witch expects nothing less from the man who keeps giving her more and more.]
But I'm glad to know that your overzealousness is always in my favor.
no subject
[The remark fails to be a true lamentation, and he carefully sets the journals she'd put so much time and effort into safely beside him so that he can reach into his suit jacket and produce a small, rectangular box in simple red wrapping.]
I can't claim to have made it myself, but I may have made some modifications.
[He holds it out to her in offering, though there's just a hint of apprehension in his gaze— he's uncertain if the gift he's chosen is, perhaps, a step over the line into the realm of 'too much,' but it certainly felt right.]
no subject
[Amelia accepts the small rectangular box and smooths the red wrapping with her palm before carefully unraveling it and opening the lid. And what is it that she finds within?]
no subject
Gale lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he watches for her reaction, preparing an explanation of what, exactly, he'd done.]
It's— enchanted with an amplified spell of Sending. When we were all forced to take refuge in the lounge some weeks back, we discussed it being useful to have a way to get in touch with one another in case of danger. Sending will allow us to speak freely across a great distance— not outside of the hotel, just yet, but I'm working on that.
[Consider this a stepping stone.]
Of course, it's not only for practical reasons, but I thought you might enjoy that bit.
no subject
Gale... It's lovely. And that Sending spell is clever and...
[She takes the bracelet out of its box and holds it in her palm where the gold catches the light and gleams. When Amelia's eyes fall upon the rose charm, without thinking, she automatically reaches up to touch her chest where her pendant usually sits.
No, she wasn't wearing it tonight. She hadn't thought about it, hadn't thought about—
Wait.
There's an indistinguishable expression in her eyes, some sort of realization as she continues to look at the golden rose.
How long has it been since I thought about him...?
Her mind scrambles, trying to trace back to the gap in her memory where her recent ones began to override the fragments she had clung onto for years and years. There was that dream perhaps during New Years. What had she dreamed about again?
But when she turned around he was gone.
The realization could have relieved her, should have relieved her. But instead, Amelia swallows down the all-too familiar sensation that begins to crawl under her skin, wrapping around her ribs, and plunging into the old wound within her heart.
Fear. Panic. Shame.
She's forgetting.
Awful. Unforgivable. How could I?
For a moment she looks frozen in place before she clutches the bracelet between both of her hands and hugs it against her chest. A deep breath is taken and she moves, resting her forehead against Gale's chest as if she just remembered he was sitting in front of her.]
no subject
There's a flash of something in her gaze as she sits there frozen, something that summons up the memory of their standing amongst the roses in the Vale, the raw heartbreak he'd glimpsed for but a moment as she had been unable to keep the tears from falling after being reminded of her past.]
Amelia, are you—?
[Her forehead comes to rest against his chest before he can ask if she's alright, and in that same moment gently takes her by the shoulders, then drops an arm around her middle in a reassuring embrace, deciding he doesn't much care who sees.]
I can't help but feel I've made a terrible misstep.
[Stirred up an unwelcome memory without realizing it, perhaps.]
no subject
It isn't you. I'm just—
I'm just like this. I'm always like this. I'm always the same.
[The bracelet sits heavy in her palm and she squeezes it tightly.]
I miss him.
[She would never see him again.]
But I have someone here with me. I want him, I want to be with him, I want to see what the future is like for once—
[ (And yet it would mean letting go, forgetting him, what did his smile look like again, how did I feel when they told me they loved me more than they could ever promise, how could he leave me, why wasn't I strong enough, how could I be happy when he's gone, does it mean I love him less, it's going to happen again, why can't I be happy now, why, why, whywhywhywhywhyy—?)
Amelia knows that everything she's felt and done with Gale is true and precious. Different. Hadn't she made it plain internally and externally to him that she didn't want to be afraid?
Fear remains. Guilt twists her insides and rots her senses. She needs to hold onto someone, anyone.
Gale. Gale is here. Gale could...
How could she do this to him?
Her arms find their way around his shoulders, an anchor as her mind becomes a storm.]
It's not your fault.
no subject
It was even less often that what she allowed to show through was hurt, but he knows that's precisely what he sees in her now, pain that runs far deeper than even he could have guessed. So much of her past remains shrouded in mystery, chapters he's not yet had the opportunity to read, but he knows full well that much of her life had been touched by isolation, by unhappiness, by loss.
His brows draw downward as he gives a worried frown, closing his arms around her as she anchors herself to him, gathering her against his chest and bringing a hand to gently rest against the back of her head.]
My love, talk to me— please.
no subject
[Her voice is muffled as she continues to press herself around him. She feels her eyes beginning to well up and the streaks of silent tears running down her cheeks.]
I don't know how.
[She thought that everything up until now was good enough. The witch's heart had softened towards this wizard and she had done her best to give it in return for his. But she did not know how to give up the hurt that had been done to her. For all her power, she lacked the strength to give him the world.
Amelia knows she can't continue the night like this, vaguely aware of the seconds and minutes flying away from them. The years have caught up to her and once again she is awash with the sensation of being her true age, old and decrepit, if not in her appearance, at least in her heart and mind.]
Keep holding me like this. Please.
no subject
For as long as you wish.
[He glances out towards the restaurant as a whole; no one seems to have noticed them, off to the side as they are, but the place suddenly feels far too crowded. Privacy suddenly feels paramount.]
I think we've been out long enough, don't you? [His voice is soft, gentle rather than showing any sign of disappointment or dismay, though the worry he feels instead does manage to peek through.] I can whisk us back to your room within moments— I think a bit of quiet is in order.
no subject
So when he offers to bring them back to her room, she silently nods and loosens her grip without drawing back completely.]
Let's go. And please... Stay with me tonight.
[It sounds like she's asking for so much, as if there's something selfish behind it. But if it's Gale, she knows he wouldn't refuse, not now in her vulnerable state.]
no subject
[His response is immediate— it had not required a single moment of thought; staying with her seemed natural, the only logical choice, especially when she was in this state, and yet she sounds as though she considers it a favor, as though it's somehow burdening him. That could not be further from the truth.]
There's nowhere I would rather be.
[He gently tucks her head beneath his chin as he embraces her fully, and the spell that follows is seamless— there's a slight tugging sensation as they're pulled through the ether, but the chatter of the restaurant falls away and they find themselves surrounded by the quiet comfort of Amelia's own sitting room.
He loosens his own hold only slightly as they find themselves on her familiar sofa, exhaling steadily.]
There— much better.
no subject
Amelia's chest rises and falls as she lays against Gale's chest, her arms slackening, but not away from him. For a long moment, all is silent with only the barely perceptible tick of one of her clocks filling the air.
She finally speaks up, quietly and wearily.]
It's not your fault.
[She repeats herself for his sake. Just being here for her and holding her like this helps somewhat.]
no subject
I'm sorry if I— perhaps stirred a memory that would have been best left untouched.
[It's all he can think of at the moment, even if she insists it wasn't his fault. He exhales steadily, dropping a chaste kiss against the top of her head.]
What can I do for you?
no subject
[It speaks volumes that she keeps him here with her instead of turning away and casting him out. Years ago, Amelia hated having anyone see her in pain, even Michael who had already witnessed it firsthand. To show weakness was a type of failure, and failure meant pain, death, or both. It was something that the Witch King had engrained in her, a survival instinct.
She focuses on Gale's touch, his fingers through her hair, and the weight of him beneath her. His voice and kiss on her head draw her back to the present.
For a couple of seconds, she says nothing. When Amelia does speak up, her voice is quiet and serenely somber.]
When you grew your skills in magic... What was it like?
[An odd question; it's almost like redirection, but it had more purpose behind it, subtle as it was.]
Did it make you happy, Gale?
no subject
There's a weighted pause before he answers her question. He knows what his answer will be with certainty, but what he's learned of her past, of how her teacher had abandoned her when he was through—
He knew just enough to know that the pursuit of magic had been a very, very different experience for the two of them.]
It did. I cast my first spell when I was but a babe— it always felt as though it was what I was meant to do. I felt called to it. At the time, I had believed magic itself to be the love of my life. It was my entire heart, my world.
[It was as much a part of him as the very blood in his veins, and remained so, even if his perspective had broadened.]
no subject
Had she ever been able to truly accept the ails that magic had rained down upon her?
There's silence again for a couple of seconds before she speaks again.]
When my teacher, the Witch King, revealed the world to magic to me as a child... I felt special. The life I knew before, the one where the arcane and mysteries of the world were simply fanciful stories, was dull and less bright.
[Her fingers curl into his sleeves.]
But I was a fool. A child who fell in love with the glamor without understanding what I was throwing away.
no subject
Her fingers curl into his sleeve, and he tightens his hold around her waist ever-so-slightly, offering what small bit of security he can.]
That was hardly your fault. You are not a fool.
[On that, he will stand firm.]
Your teacher took advantage of your youth and offered you a choice that no child could ever possibly be equipped to make, even one so brilliant as I'm certain you must have been. That he did so was cruel and unfair, but no fault of your own, Amelia.
no subject
It's so strange, even after all these years, about having people who cared especially when it was too late.]
... He's only ever done one thing I would consider good.
[But it might as well have been the worst and he had no hand in instrumenting what happened next.]
That one good thing is gone now. And it only reminded me that I'm so very human...
[She closes her eyes trying to center herself against Gale again.]
And so very tired.
no subject
Being human is not so terrible. We are vulnerable, yes— but capable of so much more than many would give us credit for.
[The human spirit could be a truly wondrous thing, though he had also seen it bent to wicked deeds.]
What he did... it's related to what you heard in the Vale that day, yes?
[She had heard the voice of someone who had loved her dearly. Someone who was no longer with them.]
no subject
… Gale.
[Amelia slowly lifts herself up and pulls away from Gale, but not without letting her hands move to intertwine with his fingers. Her eyes don’t meet his, but instead focuses on his palms.]
What did you think about that voice you heard back there? About what he said?
no subject
I thought that whoever the voice belonged to, they must have loved you very, very much.
[That was an understatement, given the words that had been used, and given Amelia's reaction at the time.]
You told me then that it was a wonderful memory— and while it was already clear they were quite special to you, I imagine they must have been worthy of you, as well.
[What little he knows about her past... he can only imagine the circumstances of such a bond had to have been extraordinary.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)