rosarianoath

He looks at the wall for a beat, and then to her, uncomfortably.

“I know you have disdain for the way I was raised. But I don't know what you’d like me to do.”

"My disdain is so strong because I love you. You deserved so much better, Clive." And it wouldn't have been too difficult to achieve, she thinks, had his father done more. "My hope is that one day you see that. You were always worthy of affection and love, and you deserved it simply by being you. Not because of the role you were to play."

She squeezes his hand.

"I know you'd never treat our children as such." But.

“Even if I accepted it, it would not change the past,” he says, and he doesn’t want to look at her, so he gently pulls his hand from hers to wrap his arms around her instead. “I shall take your lead with our children’s concerns, just the same…”

Jill exhales slowly against him, arms wrapping around his waist.

"My heart breaks for you," she murmurs. "You're all anyone could ever want as a son, brother, husband. As a friend, or as a leader. But you don't see it."

“I’m plenty happy with what I have,” he assures her, resting his chin on the top of her head. “You worry about this far more than I do, my love.”

"You don't worry about yourself enough, so I must," she replies. "You always put yourself last."

And so she has to put him first.

“You cannot say I am put last when you yourself are grieving a childhood of fear,” he says, closing his eyes, voice rumbling in his chest. “I did not have that.”

"We all lost our childhoods in one way or another. It's why my memories of you and Joshua are so precious to me." She can look upon those with a smile.

He nods, face momentarily scrunching up, glad she cannot see. He runs one hand over the back of her head, smoothing her hair, and he kisses her scalp.

“It pains me to think there were times you didn’t want to be with us. Having you there meant everything to me, selfish as it was.”

"I loved you and Joshua easily. Joshua was too young to be anything but sweet, and you were my first friend. I spent every day hoping to spend time with you. But I missed my parents, too."

She could not say as much. Not within earshot of Anabella, and she worried anything said in confidence to the boys would somehow put her relatively comfortable position in danger. It was better to keep it to herself, cry when she thought no one was paying attention, and simply hope that one day she would see her mother and father again.

“Not many children at court, and even fewer of a similar station,” he murmurs. It’s strange to have a position of power and yet be openly held in contempt, to work hard to earn one’s place.

Clive stoops a bit, loosening his arms around her so he can scoop her up and carry her back to bed.

There's a soft sound of surprise from Jill. The last thing she expected was to be picked up. She's surprised he's still willing to breathe the same air as her right now, let alone manhandle her.

"What are you doing?"

He doesn’t reply for a moment, perhaps embarrassed to surprise her, but he picks her up like a princess anyway, taking her with him to the edge of the bed. He sits, keeping her in his arms, across his lap.

“Is it alright if I hold you?”

A simple question shouldn't make her want to cry. She's done a good job of keeping her emotions in check, and he's out here trying to ruin her efforts. Jill bites her bottom lip for a moment before nodding and turning to bury her face into his neck.

"You don't need to ask, Clive."

“Okay,” he says, a frog in his throat, and he just holds her tighter and leans his cheek against the top of her head once more. He rocks them both, gently. “I’m sorry.”

"You apologize too much, my love," she says. Is he apologizing for asking, or for their miserable conversation that's done nothing but sour the day? "I'm sorry for hurting you."

At least she knows how he sees it.

“Better too much than not enough,” he assures her. “Thank you. I’m sorry for dismissing you…”

He didn't mean to. She knows how deeply that love for his father runs.

Like Dion, she assumes he'll need to sit with the shock for a while before he decides what to do with it. If anything.

"We're alright," she promises. "I know your heart as well as I know my own by now, Clive."

"You do," he murmurs, voice thick. "Thank you."

"And thank you for not walking away," she says. That's progress, isn't it? When he got out of the bed she was sure he was going to head downstairs to get away from her, and inevitably say he'd be sleeping in the basement that night. It's a relief.

That part was hard. Better to put distance between them than inflict his temper upon her, and even still there's the temptation to leave, but her weight on his lap is an easy reason to stay.

"I couldn't upset you more."

"I want us to be able to talk about difficult things, even if we disagree," she says, and not for the first time. "It's not easy but I think we're both getting better at it, hmm?"

She lifts her head to look at him, then leans in to kiss his cheek. The fact that they disagree on this hurts, but at least they know.

He’s embarrassed instantly when she looks up, lowering his eyes so she can’t so easily see how glassy they are. He can only hum his agreement. It is hard.

“It’s harder than slaying dragons,” he admits. “We never had difficult conversations, growing up. Just marching orders.”

She doesn't need to see his eyes. It's clear enough in his voice, though she doesn't him a kindness by not drawing attention to it.

"One day you'll see a hard discussion doesn't mean my opinion of you has changed," she says with a bump of her nose against his jaw. "We can get upset and it be... simply that. A moment or a few hours, maybe. Hopefully no longer than that "

“I don’t want to disagree with you on anything,” he says, bowing his head to press his cheek to her forehead.

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smash those buttons to accept the truth dude

Clive like hmmm maybe

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