thecutdiamond | who says you can't go home?

Entry tags:

rp,
with: edgar

who says you can't go home?

She should have known that when her boy went back to the place of her birth, he would have fallen into it immediately. He was too much both his parents' son not to. Still, when he calls telling her he's Challenging and wouldn't she please come and watch, just this once, she can't help but go.

It's her boy's first Challenge, after all. Had things gone differently this would have happened three years ago and probably would have been a little more violent in nature. As it is, he's inherited her-- or maybe more Andrew's, really-- stellar ability at chess, and she knew he'd done well in selecting it.

She almost doesn't make it to the Challenge because her first time stepping on the Deck soil in years has her breath coming up short. Pushes herself through it, for Arik's sake.

She's so much older than she was since she left. She doesn't imagine there's many people who would really look past the short brown hair and fake glasses to realize they recognize her distinctly Fioro eyes and nose; the curve of her absolutely Caustello lips. Arik knows her and the small handful of disguises she's worn over the years that she's sure he'll recognize her, regardless.

But some people know her too well, still, even with all the years that have passed. And some people aren't going to let her visit go unnoticed.

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It had been a tumultuous first week, admittedly. There had been a lot of long nights, a lot of heated conversation, a lot of struggling against this new influx of information. Getting the boy situated and settled, when it was clear he was staying, had been easy; getting the rest of the family situated around his presence had gone much less smoothly.

Arik is, after all, 10 years older than Stephan--4 years older even than Kristen--and the son of the eldest brother, in spite of his technical illegitimacy. It had been something to be clear and thoughtful about among themselves.

But it's gotten better since then. It's been clear, watching the King, that whatever amount of pain still lives within him is absolutely dwarfed by the shining wonder of this young man having come into his life. He's brighter. He's quicker to laugh, more like when he was a younger man without shadows clinging to the edges of his mind. He's thrown himself into the act of fathering with absolute devotion. It's been very difficult to hold onto old angers in the face of.

So, like a dutiful Nine--and, more importantly, a dutiful uncle--Maximilian is sitting at the King's side to watch his nephew's first Challenge. It means he absolutely notices when Edgar's gaze, sweeping briefly over the assembled audience, freezes completely at a single face.

She does look vaguely familiar, Max concedes as he slips through the crowd on his brother's behalf. She does look like she could have fit into his memories when he's close enough to actually appear at her side.

"M'lady." Edgar hadn't been very clear about who the woman was when he'd murmured for his brother to go speak to her. "I've been asked by his Lordship to see you're well and comfortable here."

Of course she'd sought out Edgar's face the moment she arrived. She'd hoped she was able to find an angle he would recognize her at-- or at least a place she could blend in with the crowd.

She should have known better. You can't fool someone who once had every inch of your body memorized.

There's at least a lack of recognition in Max's eyes. She may be able to get out of this yet.

Her smile won't be something that gives her away. It's vastly different from the one that used to touch her lips nearly two decades ago.

"I'm quite well, sir. Truly. Please express my thanks to his Majesty for his concern."

The smile only confuses his attempt at recognition further. She had almost looked like someone his mind could zero in on--but that smile is all wrong. That smile isn't someone he's ever known.

How Edgar is involved, clearly, is anyone's guess.

"He said he didn't want to impose, but that you're more than welcome to come sit with us. There's a much better view of play."

The shake of his head is instant, even as the smile stays carefully in place.

"Again, I thank him, but I'm quite well where I am."

It isn't something Max is going to push. His shrug is entirely noncommittal as he bobs his head to her and moves back to his seat beside his brother.

It isn't unexpected. In fact, Edgar isn't at all certain what else there could have been between them. It's amazing she's here at all.

And it's impossible not, now and then, to glance over at her. It's impossible not to spend small moments studying the angles of her features. It's impossible not to keep letting the sight of her cut deeply into his heart.

He'll do his best to hold back from even approaching Arik first when the winner is declared. It's the boy's mother's right to be first, after all.

Difficult to hold back from, but very much his place only to hold back.

Arik will move instantly to his mother when the Challenge is done. He'll grip her hand tight to shake it, uncertain if he's welcome to hug her and get the surrounding people suspicious as to the nature of the relationship.

Rachel won't care about that, for a moment. Her son's just won his first Challenge. There's no question she's going to be pulling him into a tight hug, murmuring loving words into the young man's ear before they break apart.

She'll be doing her best to melt into the crowd once she pulls away from her son. Will likely start to move to leave as soon as that's done.

She may not necessarily succeed in getting away just yet, though.

He should leave her alone. He should absolutely leave her alone.

It's more than he deserves, after all, to see the moment of Rachel and Arik hugging. It's more than he deserves to see the woman he loves, the mother of his child, looking actually happy for a few seconds. It's more than he deserves to have the image of mother and child together; to almost be able to picture a life in which the two of them both fit in here on the Deck properly.

But he's moving toward Arik as she's moving to vanish. He's moving and she's moving and it's such an unconscious instinct to gravitate toward her, after all these years.

The touch of his hand to her elbow is entirely unconscious, meant very much to simply be a matter of moving past her.

The touch to her elbow is easily noticed. Has her turning just slightly in response, even as she tries to keep herself moving.

It's hard not to want to turn towards him immediately, even after all these years. Hard not to feel the draw of her body towards his.

He can't not look at her when he turns. He can't not, for a few overwhelmed heartbeats, just soak in being close enough to really breathe in the woman his heart refuses to stop loving.

He pulls back his hand with a shaking breath. His features are likely unreadable, not from an effort to hide so much as from an entirely clear clash of painful, conflicting emotions.

Then again, it's Rachel. If anyone had ever been able to read through his confusion, it was Rachel.

"...sorry."

She's always been able to read him. It rips through her heart, to know she's still able to.

Tears her nearly in half, to have the apology fall from his lips. It feels, almost, like he's apologizing for so much more.

The shake of her is slight, "It was my fault, Your Grace."

So much more than the brushing of their skin together was.

It's the title that nearly kills him. It's bad enough, having her close and feeling so far. It's bad enough, remembering the little ways she used to be able to hold herself in and seeing them so properly polished into armour now.

But it's worst that she can't even say his name.

"It wasn't." Keeping his voice soft keeps it from trembling unnecessarily much, despite the obvious swell of pain in his eyes. "It was my fault."

Bumping into her now, certainly. Ruining things between them so that this moment came to be, laced through with this terrible pain? Also certainly.

"Don't-- let me keep you." He can't, he knows. He can't have more than these few seconds. It isn't fair, and it isn't something he deserves. "I know it's--"

It's a bit of a trek, back to the Outposts. It's a bit difficult to do, while keeping a low profile. It all dies on his lips.

"--please see Andrew. Please."

He doesn't deserve this, but surely Andrew at least deserved the chance to speak to her properly, even if only one last time.

It's like a punch to the gut, seeing the pain in his eyes, the softness in his voice. It nearly kills the lingering anger she felt toward the man, to see him so obviously wracked with guilt.

"I miss you." It blurts from her lips impulsively, and she automatically thins her lips with displeasure at how easily the emotion slips out.

"...All of you," she attempts to correct, "I'll-- go talk to Andrew before I go."

Edited 2014-10-14 20:16 (UTC)

The human heart is such a strange thing. Edgar's soars very briefly at the words on her lips, then plummets instantly at the pressing of them thin. He doesn't care that it likely plays clear as anything across his features.

He's never been able to hide from her. He isn't even going to pretend he can now.

"Thank you."

He wants to say more. His lips part to say more. His mind cuts in just quickly enough to stop himself. It's time to let go of this desperate need to cling to her; to go celebrate his son.

Their son.

"...He's a good boy, isn't he?"

She just needs this last little bit of time to talk about their son. She can stand a few moments longer with him, if it's talking about their son.

Looking back at the young man, currently in conversation with his uncle, helps to keep her steady.

"You're taking care of him?"

She doesn't doubt it, but she needs to hear it properly anyways.

He can't not smile when he looks over at Arik. He can't begin to fight it from his voice as he pushes his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her arm again.

She's so close. She's actually standing here. He already knows she's real; he doesn't deserve to confirm it again, no matter how much he's craving to.

"He's-- amazing." It's impossible not to be proud. It's impossible not to have the hurt cut through with genuine joy for the young man, at least. "He's doing well here, you know. We're-- we're looking out for him."

As completely devotedly as they could. It would never be the same as having both parents in one place.

"It's-- all right? Having him here?"

"Good. Thank you."

It helps to know he's settling in well; to know that his family here is taking care of him just as she would have.

She can't help the slight ache in her expression that exists for a moment in response to his question. It's covered soon enough.

"...It's-- It's all right." It's a struggle, to force her voice not to waver too much. She doesn't quite manage it, "It's... his time."

She always knew she'd have to let him go, eventually.

The strain in her voice is slight, but it has him looking back to her again. His hand is almost to her arm before he can arrest himself, hand wavering in midair before he forces himself to pull back again.

"It is, but-- it doesn't have to be here."

There were so many things a smart, capable young man like Arik could be doing with his life. Of course Edgar's desperate to have the boy close; it's impossible not to.

But it's far from neutral ground. It's not somewhere he suspects Rachel will ever be comfortable coming and staying long periods of time.

"No."

There's the faintest hint of sorrow in Rachel's voice. She barely seems to notice it's presence, the way the hurt lingers in her expression despite her general look of neutrality.

"For him-- for him it does."

He knows the answer. He knows the answer without asking.

If he could have fallen out of love with her, he would have by now, and might have been able to stop himself from asking.

"Maybe-- for you too, Rachel."

She knows how to smile and almost make it look she means it. She does it now, to shove away at the ache in her chest that comes from feeling like she's losing her son.

"There's no place for me here, anymore."

At least, she's not very good at seeing it.

"There is."

This isn't the time or place, he knows, to be discussing something this important. He just feels equally certain that there will never get to be another time or place if he lets this one go.

"There will-- always be a place for you here. This is where you're from." Not where she is, maybe, and not what she calls home, certainly, but nothing can take away the years she spent growing up here. "If-- If you wanted to be here, Rachel, if-- you wanted to come back and-- be close to Arik, it--"

It would be perfect. Even if he had to rearrange his entire life so she could live hers without having to see him, it would be perfect to know she was back.

"We could make it work."

The shake of her head is slight, instinctive. She doesn't entirely mean it.

"Where would I go?" she asks him, voice soft, "It's been years. I wouldn't exactly be able to-- slide back into the swing of things as if nothing's happened."

She doubts she'd be welcome in the Diamonds, and there's no chance she's going to the Spades or Hearts.

She can't even begin to think of how things would work, with the Clubs.

The shake of his head is insistent. The twitch of his fingers, barely kept back from reaching out again.

"Not-- as if nothing's happened. But it's-- it's not like people don't leave and come back. It just takes-- It just takes really-- wanting to be here again."

When people came back without determination, they often left again. When they came because they were coming home, they tended to find ways to make their lives work again.

"Look, it's--" He has to bite himself back. He has to take a deep breath. "I should go-- see Arik. But... but think about it. Talk to Andrew about it. Please. I'm begging you."

She can't help the hesitation. She also can't help the eventual nod that comes.

"Tell him I love him, and that we'll chat soon," she says, nodding in the direction of her-- their-- son, "I'll... I'll talk to Andrew."

And she isn't promising she'll think about coming home, but there's no question about whether or not it's on her mind, now.

Relief is obvious. It allows, briefly, his lips to curl toward a smile as he ducks his head.

"I'll-- see you, Rachel."

And even just the possibility he might lifts so much of the hurt from him. It makes it that much easier to move to meet her--his--their--son with a tight proper hug of congratulations.

She doesn't verbally respond to his words. Just nods slightly, manages a flicker of a smile and a half-wave as she goes in search of her cousin.

Arik's grip on his father will be just a tight, just a touch desperate, "'s Mom okay?"

His smile is entirely beaming for Arik, of course. His hug is entirely tight and just a hair protective.

"She's fine." And isn't that something, to speak to his son about Rachel. To their son. "She's-- so proud of you, Arik. We both are."

Isn't that something.

"Thanks, Dad."

And it would make Rachel's heart soar, to know her son accepts his father's pride so easily. To know that he doesn't doubt for a moment that his parents are proud of him, and can accept whenever they affirm it.

"Did she-- leave already or 's she... staying for a bit?"

They hadn't gotten to talk all that long, after all, and he missed his mother.

It's an important thing. It's something that keeps his own heart beating fast for the joy of knowing his own son isn't growing up with the same doubts and hurts he had.

One arm can't help staying around Arik's shoulders even when he leans back again, free hand lifting to ruffle the young man's hair.

"She went to talk to your Uncle Andrew." Which surely must sound like the wonderful news it is. "She said to tell you she loves you, and that she'll chat with your soon, all right?"

"All right."

There's a bright smile to hear that she's talking to his uncle. It's absolutely good news to hear. He knew his mother had been missing her cousin.

"It went well, yeah?"

He did win, but it's the part of his mother in him that wonders if he did it with grace.

"It went well." There's a reassuring squeeze for that. "The first time always feels-- strange. But you start to get used to it, if you do it enough."

If he wants to. If he finds it in his life path.

He could be Ace or stay a Three forever, honestly.

"'kay, then."

He doesn't know, yet, how much farther he's going to go in terms of Rank. It's still nice to know.

One more firm kiss to the boy's temple. One more tight squeeze.

"We love you." It's as important as each parent saying it as an individual, he feels. "And we're-- so proud of you, Arik. Remember that."

"I will, Dad."

As if he could ever really forget it, with how good they both are at reminding him.

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who says you can't go home?

clearly this will turn into the right account next tag or whatever but.

Hi Max \o/

He gets lonely and bored, clearly.

He's always welcome to say hello o/

I'm sure he'll be back B|

\o/

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