A slow heavy breath had left her at his response, feeling her chest deflate with the pressure on it. She could sympathize, in so many ways, and a nod followed. One hand reaching out, a gentle sort of touch as she squeezed his arm, tried to show him she understood even if she didn't agree.
"Maybe you don't think so now." She started as she gave another squeeze before pulling it back, not wanting to overwhelm him. "But I think when the time comes you will do the right thing."
The right thing, she knew, was not the easy thing. Or perhaps the thing he wanted to do-- or even consider. But with all of that said, she wanted Zelly to have a life. The girl had barely started hers; not just in years, but the fact she had been trapped in a castle without the freedom to live for so long. To the point she had let herself be bitten by a vampire just to escape. Winter didn't want to die, of course, but some small part of her couldn't handle living if it meant anyone else did.
"You said I would be a good mother," she began, softer and perhaps more mournful than before. "If I want to believe that, then there really isn't any other choice."
He looked down, staring at the floor, frustrated despite himself as the words refused to come out of his mouth. Was it so hard to say "yes?" Couldn't he at least force the words out? But he couldn't. And he knew if he opened his lips more refusal would force itself out. He'd end up saying things he regretted.
Gareth jerked his head up as she took his arm, expecting to find her expression harsh and judgmental--but instead she looked at him with the same sort of gentle understanding she always did. A look that was undeniably her. He missed the touch when it faded, when she took her hand back. He could still feel her holding him, the warmth of her hand seeped through his sleeve and stayed there.
"You would," he choked, and the sorrow in her voice was crushing his stomach like a ball of paper. "You will be. You still will be." "Zelly needs you," he repeated, his eyes wild. "She needs you and I--" I do too.
The look on his face made her chest ache, a little more than she liked to be honest, filled her with a new kind of guilt. Nodding gently she leaned in, this time drawing him into a hug, allowing herself to give him a gentle squeeze by way of apology. "I'm sorry to ask you to do this." She finally murmured, her face pressing into his shoulder, taking a deep breath as she relaxed a little. It was familiar, in the oddest kind of way.
"I don't want it to come to that." She admitted, gentle as always as she just stood there, holding him regardless of if he was able to hold her back. If he hated her she would understand that too, but for now she wasn't going to let him feel empty or alone. She was asking something of him no one should ever be asked, but that doesn't mean she didn't understand it hurt him.
"And I need her. And you. And that's why I want you both safe." A slow breath, cool against his shoulder. "This is my family now, I have to protect you all."
He thought she might turn away, become angry with his continued refusal, but Winter was still too kind for that. She stepped in instead, no longer content to simply squeeze his arm as an apology. She held him in a hug that he gratefully accepted, his grip the stronger one this time. She apologized, sweet voice brushing his ear, and he just nodded. He didn't trust himself to answer. Gareth squeezed her a little, his hands clasping around her back and pulling her in. A real hug. And the strangest thing was how natural, how right it felt to hold her.
"I don't either," he managed, and his voice almost didn't tremble.
He could have kept holding her for a long time. Forever maybe. That was what he thought. And then she spoke, and he couldn't pick out what exactly it was, but some word, some phrase in her statement just made him furious. Gareth shoved her away, breaking the hug harshly and forcing her to take a few steps away. "How is that fair?" he hissed, almost loud enough to wake the rest. "You get to be the martyr and I live on for Zelly's sake, knowing I've lost y--all of you." "How is that fair to me?"
There's no hiding the startled, hurt, look that crossed her features at being shoved away. For several seconds she just watched him with confusion, feeling an ache in her chest before his words came out and it seemed to absolve her of that expression. Looking down she couldn't meet his angry gaze, the corner of her mouth drawn in, chewed on as she tried to think of a better answer but...
"It's not." She admitted, gentle and perhaps a little broken. "It's not fair to you at all, and I know that." Her own voice tightened, trying to fight off the urge to be emotional. It was hard to do when she could feel the emotion rolling off of him in waves. Feel the betrayal she had instilled in him by just asking him to do something she couldn't do herself.
It would be an understatement to say the confused, hurt look on her face made him want to crawl into a hole. But he didn't back down--he couldn't. After all, he felt hurt too. He felt confused. And his anger was the only thing keeping him from breaking down. His furious despair at being asked a request like this was all that let him "shout" at Winter like this. Otherwise, the look on her face would have crumbled him.
"It's not," he hissed at her. "It's not fair to me or to any of us!" His fists were balled up at his side and his knuckles were white. "I just don't understand," he said, understanding completely her reasoning and her wishes and her fervent fear. It all made perfect sense. He understood that. He really did. But-- "How could you ask me something like this?"
"Because you're the only one I trust to do it." She admitted after a long moment of silence. It felt bad to admit, wrong, but it was also the truth and maybe she needed to show him that. She wasn't sure if it would make things better or worse-- but it was how she felt. "Grumac and Orek mean well, but they couldn't care for a little girl, not one like Zelly, not with what she needs. Victor would probably just leave her back at home." She swallowed hard, she hated speaking ill of anyone... but these were simply truths as she saw them.
"Who knows where the others are-- they've left us." And part of her is a bit bitter, one was meant to protect Zelly in particular, and abandoning that task made her stomach turn. It didn't matter now, though, this was all they were.
"I'm asking you because you're the only one who could care for her like she deserves, the only one I trust to do what's right for her."
He listened, and it was just the same: it wasn't like he disagreed with a single thing she said. In fact, he agreed! He agreed whole-heartedly with every point she put forth. These were things he'd thought himself once upon a time and slowly ceased thinking about as their group grew closer. But of course when he just joined, when they were still ferrying Zelly along to Suzail, he'd been prepared for it.
He winced at the anger in her voice, and his own frustration cooled. "They have," he admitted. He couldn't deny it.
And in the end, he was standing right in front of Winter with her eyes locked on his. He was standing, hands slowly uncurling, feeling more powerless than he ever had. Feeling like all his magic had fizzled and gone away. It felt like tearing out his own heart to say it. "...what would you have me do?"
He knew it. Of course he did. But there was some part of him that still wished she'd take it back.
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thoughtsofvorfreude2018-12-06 09:39 pm
no subject
"Maybe you don't think so now." She started as she gave another squeeze before pulling it back, not wanting to overwhelm him. "But I think when the time comes you will do the right thing."
The right thing, she knew, was not the easy thing. Or perhaps the thing he wanted to do-- or even consider. But with all of that said, she wanted Zelly to have a life. The girl had barely started hers; not just in years, but the fact she had been trapped in a castle without the freedom to live for so long. To the point she had let herself be bitten by a vampire just to escape. Winter didn't want to die, of course, but some small part of her couldn't handle living if it meant anyone else did.
"You said I would be a good mother," she began, softer and perhaps more mournful than before. "If I want to believe that, then there really isn't any other choice."
no subject
But he couldn't. And he knew if he opened his lips more refusal would force itself out. He'd end up saying things he regretted.
Gareth jerked his head up as she took his arm, expecting to find her expression harsh and judgmental--but instead she looked at him with the same sort of gentle understanding she always did. A look that was undeniably her.
He missed the touch when it faded, when she took her hand back. He could still feel her holding him, the warmth of her hand seeped through his sleeve and stayed there.
"You would," he choked, and the sorrow in her voice was crushing his stomach like a ball of paper. "You will be. You still will be."
"Zelly needs you," he repeated, his eyes wild. "She needs you and I--"
I do too.
no subject
"I don't want it to come to that." She admitted, gentle as always as she just stood there, holding him regardless of if he was able to hold her back. If he hated her she would understand that too, but for now she wasn't going to let him feel empty or alone. She was asking something of him no one should ever be asked, but that doesn't mean she didn't understand it hurt him.
"And I need her. And you. And that's why I want you both safe." A slow breath, cool against his shoulder. "This is my family now, I have to protect you all."
no subject
Gareth squeezed her a little, his hands clasping around her back and pulling her in. A real hug. And the strangest thing was how natural, how right it felt to hold her.
"I don't either," he managed, and his voice almost didn't tremble.
He could have kept holding her for a long time. Forever maybe. That was what he thought.
And then she spoke, and he couldn't pick out what exactly it was, but some word, some phrase in her statement just made him furious. Gareth shoved her away, breaking the hug harshly and forcing her to take a few steps away.
"How is that fair?" he hissed, almost loud enough to wake the rest. "You get to be the martyr and I live on for Zelly's sake, knowing I've lost y--all of you."
"How is that fair to me?"
no subject
"It's not." She admitted, gentle and perhaps a little broken. "It's not fair to you at all, and I know that." Her own voice tightened, trying to fight off the urge to be emotional. It was hard to do when she could feel the emotion rolling off of him in waves. Feel the betrayal she had instilled in him by just asking him to do something she couldn't do herself.
"But you're the only one I can ask."
no subject
"It's not," he hissed at her. "It's not fair to me or to any of us!" His fists were balled up at his side and his knuckles were white. "I just don't understand," he said, understanding completely her reasoning and her wishes and her fervent fear. It all made perfect sense. He understood that. He really did.
But--
"How could you ask me something like this?"
He was trapped.
no subject
"Who knows where the others are-- they've left us." And part of her is a bit bitter, one was meant to protect Zelly in particular, and abandoning that task made her stomach turn. It didn't matter now, though, this was all they were.
"I'm asking you because you're the only one who could care for her like she deserves, the only one I trust to do what's right for her."
no subject
He winced at the anger in her voice, and his own frustration cooled. "They have," he admitted. He couldn't deny it.
And in the end, he was standing right in front of Winter with her eyes locked on his. He was standing, hands slowly uncurling, feeling more powerless than he ever had. Feeling like all his magic had fizzled and gone away.
It felt like tearing out his own heart to say it.
"...what would you have me do?"
He knew it. Of course he did.
But there was some part of him that still wished she'd take it back.