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Gerald
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"Hi, Dad."
Father looks up at me from the door. He blinks, not wanting to show confusion, but obviously wondering what the hell I'm doing home before him. His jaw is tight, too - his face is showing the strain he's feeling right now. Considering how much effort he goes through to hide such things, that's a sign of just how much the situation has gotten to him.
"Stevane and Lyric are still at the Poet Hall, watching over Jhe h'Logos. I came here to make sure you didn't need anything. Gerude's gone out, and I guess Lute's out doing his duty now. Jenny didn't even come by here yet, it looks like." I shrug. "Weird, having an empty house. Do you think Katherine will be by soon?"
His eyebrows knit together. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Gerald, do you have some business with me?"
I startle a bit. "I um... no..." Oh dear. That's a lie. Father cocks his head at me, his expression plainly analytic. I'm being read.
"Lyric is staying in the Hall, you said? That's very good. I imagine Stevane will keep him there, safe. We'll have time to talk, then. I do believe I recall that you and I need to." He leads me into his study after pulling a bottle of wine from the rack in the kitchen.
I turn and look at him. "What's wrong with Lyric?"
Father's face grows a bit pained. "An assassination attempt was made on him after the Trial. Lute took out the would-be assassin, but has yet to be able to follow up on it, considering that he's in Sul now. So I'd rather the boy stayed somewhere safe until things blow over. Likely it's just related to the Trials. He's too closely associated with the Peacock King right now."
"Someone tried to kill him? Today? Are you sure Lyric's okay?" The words are out of my mouth before I even realize my tongue is moving. Father looks up at me with some measure of surprise, then cocks his head, his face shifting to a dubious expression. Almost mocking.
"Are you? You act as if he hasn't survived ten years on his own in one of the most dangerous places he could be, with one of the most dangerous men in the world." That tone. What, am I an object of ridicule now just because I care about my brother? Because I want to protect him? Father winces, then lets out a pained sigh. Oh, yeah. He can hear my thoughts, because I'm not shielding them and I'm in a bad place to even attempt it. I forgot. All that emotional baggage is just piling up in my mind now, and Lyric isn't the issue anymore. I know it never was. There's this awkward moment where I straighten up and he watches me, and we both know exactly what one of us is or is not seeing of the other's thoughts.
He gestures towards me. "Here. Sit down. It's high time I made some time for you." I walk to the armchair he waves me into, my nerves rising as I approach. I settle in with the full knowledge that all of us siblings refer to this thing as the Interrogation Chair. It's the seat in Father's study that he likes to put one of us in when he's in the mood to start grilling.
To my surprise, he passes me a glass of wine. I blink, then automatically hold it under my nose to sniff. It's a deep red, and that's really all I can say, because I can see the color with my eyes. You can't live around 'Sy without gaining some knowledge of wines, and usually I could do some rough cataloging with my nose right now, but I can't focus on it. At least I give it the proper ceremony before getting a mouthful of it and swishing it around. It's a comforting enough ritual, but not enough to really take me out of the situation - it's all a show that's undeniably his.
While I'm deliberating over that, he takes his seat and sips at his own glass. "Talk." There's no command to it, no idleness either. It's just a simple word, and at that, a simple request.
The question is, what's going to pop out of my mouth first? He's not even leading me anywhere, and I...well, okay, I do know exactly what I should be telling him, what I want to talk to him about, what's been driving me crazy. So I don't need to be led. I just need to talk about what I need to talk about.
"Katherine's all over me like she wants to kill me, and normally that wouldn't hurt a bit. S' sort of normal, you know that." I heave a sigh out of my chest. "You know...a lot, when it comes to me and Katherine. Old...news, I guess." I don't look at his face. I don't want to know what his reaction is to something I don't want to admit to. It's weakness, okay? Foolishness. "Look, I get that you two are an item by now. I guess...that happened, and all. Whether I liked it, and whether...I was there to have a say about it and all." I look off to the side, unwilling to see him right now. "Nobody can change that, I guess not even Jhe h'Logos. And I do like having Jenny around. She's a nice sister. Wouldn't trade her for the world."
Silence.
"But look, when you...I mean. I know I died and all, you were there and she was there. It's not something I enjoyed doing. Death's not...usually...fun. But you two, of all people in this blighted, too-small world, knew I was coming back. I'm yours, dammit. Not just in blood but I swore myself to you, and there was no way you were not going to go through that old ceremony. Katherine would have understood that too. She's your closest officer...closest in a lot of ways. So don't tell me you didn't know I would be back. You're...dammit Dad! You're the one that fetches me back from Tia, and you both knew I was coming back!" I glare over at him, forgetting in the heat of my anger that I was trying not to do exactly that.
He's gone white in horror, his hand up by his face, fingers spread out, almost gripping his cheek. Even more telling, his wine has been forgotten, save for the first sip or two he had of it. Worst of all, he's speechless.
Anger carries me forward when all three, in normal circumstances, would stop me in cold shock. "So look, you two...had a thing for each other. Fine, but you could have told me, either of you, you know? Or...fuck, you could have waited. I mean, what did I have to--how could I get her back, then? I'm back from the Void, all stunned from a kill, still muddling that out, still growing into legs that are too stubby and stupid for me to even move correctly. Getting from baby-size to a grown man in the span of weeks. That was enough, but I had to...had to go and see you two..." My fist balls up on the arm of the chair. I set my wine down before I waste it in a spill. "I was physically ten, you know, and when I saw you two kissing I had to remind myself over and over what big-boy-feelings felt like in a body that couldn't...you know...feel it. That was pretty damn fucked up, all over. I just...well, I just avoided you two as best I could then, which was way easier than it should have been. It all was happening at once, I know, but...I could have used...well I was growing up all over again and she was just...you could have waited, if you really wanted to, until your rival was grown past his second childhood, and well...damnit, Dad, when I finally said something you wrote me off like I was a teenager!"
"You were a teenager," he croaks, his eyes staring out wide into a distance far beyond the baseboards.
"I was way older than thirteen in my mind and you knew that. You both did, but at least she was a lot younger than you, and not as experienced with stuff, but..." I sputter, looking down at the table, at my red-tinged reflection in the wine.
"...Sorry." It's a half-whisper, half-mumbled little thing, and I almost don't even notice.
"Are you really? Are you sure you don't just need to elbow me out of the way again? Because I'm a grown man this time around, and it might actually take you a minute this time. Not that she even has eyes for me."
"...I couldn't stop that, Gerald." His voice is quiet, but unapologetic this time.
This time, I can't look up at him. "...Yeah, well." I dab a finger down into the wine and watch the surface ripples play off of the rim of the glass. "I guess that's just how it goes, but I..."
"Have you really been hurt over it all this time, Gerald?" He cuts in, his voice betraying nothing but mild curiosity.
I don't want to talk now, but...well, all I can do is leave instead. If I left now, what would be the point of telling him all the stuff before this? The thought that I do have an alternative, but that it's neither the smart thing to do nor pleasant, is strangely motivational. "Yeah. But hell if a ten-year-old could settle things out with you over a girl. Even if I wasn't mentally ten at the time. Which you sort of conveniently forgot."
"I didn't, but I concede your point." He tips his wineglass at me, then takes a delicate sip.
"And you wouldn't let a teenage kid get a word in edgewise, no matter what the factors were that you conveniently forgot at the time. Like you forgot a lot of things. Conveniently."
"Is that why you took the long missions away from home sometime after then?" His voice has a weird edge to it. Almost pinched.
"As soon as I was able? Well, it was nice to have some time with Gerude. I'd really missed him, and he's pretty heartfelt about saving the derelict corners of the world. ...Can't deny that it felt better away from home, though. As hard as it was to stay away once there were Jenny and Stevie darting around everybody's ankles."
"I was just about to ask why you'd started coming back at that specific time. I thought Katherine and I's spat might have had to do with it."
"I uh...actually, it made it even more awkward. Nah, I just love family, you know? Jenny's always been just like the rest of my siblings, except with a tinge more of a murder complex." Dad snorts. Somehow I think that's good. For some reason I'm glad he's finding something funny. "When it's family, like that, it...well, I wasn't too much focused on you two, you know. Being romantic."
"There wasn't much romance for awhile after Stevane, so you didn't miss much." I raise an eyebrow at him. He waves it away. "Not really something I want to share, and nothing that has any bearing on the present." ...Huh, weird. I wonder if he picked up that the second part didn't ring as true as he probably wanted it to. Nothing I think I'm really going to poke into with him, though. "The important part...well. I suppose you felt rather wronged, or still do."
Not that he needs that confirmed, but he likes it when people confess. "I guess I didn't do such a good job of hiding it recently. I just...well, I got back and...it was rough in Sul and nobody here gave a damn, and I kinda forgot about you and Kathe. You know, I kinda...I kinda thought you'd moved on." I'm having a little trouble looking up at him, and I feel his attention drawing up on me. "You...you've had a lot of...trysts."
"Is that any of your business?" His voice is very low, and it's also dangerous.
"Yeah, well...we've all got a lot of different moms, so it's not like I wouldn't notice."
"Ah." There's a silence that draws out between us as he sips his wine and I just...look into mine. Huh. I'm getting a little stubbly on the chin there. "You thought you had a chance?"
I cough. Didn't really expect that one. "Well I--"
"Because you didn't, Gerald." His voice plows right through my protest, full of authority.
My fists ball up. "Fine, if you want to say it like a man, but you're telling it to me like a Father, and I'm not really into that." He chokes off an indignant squawk. "You're my Father, sure. We ALL get that! But you're not muscling in on Myles and telling Stevane to go to her room if she calls foul on you. ...Well, you're not muscling in on Myles."
"I'm not sending her to her room because of him, either." His voice is wound up pretty tight over that one. "She is sixteen years old and may date whomever she likes." Not that he wouldn't still send a grown woman to her room, but hey. Stevane does kick up a lot of trouble. "What business does it have to do with your complaints?" His voice is tightening up again, and I've got this odd, creeping feeling, like my life is in danger.
Ahh, the familiar feeling of several of my childhoods. (I've kind of made an art of going out in style, guns blazing, so I've had more than one do-over.) "If you want to say anything about Katherine to me, say it as a man. You didn't muscle her away from your son. You muscled her away from a man."
That gives him pause for a bit. "There was no muscling. But you'll tell me that is because there was no man left alive to muscle, and you'll be correct in at least the literal sense. That's fine. I understand, now, how it might have been from your perspective." He pauses. "...Was I not there enough for you, Gerald?"
That makes me pause. Was that what I'd been saying through some of this? "I uh...I don't know. I kinda missed you, sometimes. I just...figured I was getting ignored for a reason, like I'd done something."
"I didn't mean to ignore you." He drums his fingers on his knee. "...You've been feeling that way since you returned, Gerald?"
I don't answer.
"I am very sorry. I should have paid more attention to you. I forget none of you have mothers here save for Jenny and...well, then there's Stevane." He sighs. I can hear the weariness in him from the exhalation. "Do you know, sometimes I haven't the faintest idea what I'm doing, Gerald? That's the trick of being a parent, I'll teach you that this instant. You have to pretend that you're doing it right, and when everyone believes you, your kids believe you. ...But I suppose you have to be around pretty often to be able to do that. Would you say that's the case?"
"I dunno. I think you were a great Dad, just keep off my girlfriends."
"Right. I'll do that."
An uneasy silence settles between us, in which I realize nothing's been settled at all. By the sound of the sigh Father makes, he must have come to the exact same conclusion. Hell, what was I even thinking would happen? We've just made a bigger muck of all this than it was before. I don't even know what I'm mad about anymore.
"...You really think so?" He swishes his wine around. There's way more left in his glass than is close to normal.
I jump. "Do I think what?"
"Do you think that I was a good dad? Really?"
"I said you were a great Dad. I don't think you're even listening, old man."
He snorts. "Fine. I'm senile and inattentive, then. Do you bear Katherine any ill will for what's happened?"
I shrug. "I'm annoyed she's so intent on cutting me up, but the circumstances are...well, you know what they are. No changing that. It just sucks. I don't want to have to deal with this stuff anymore. Not when there's so much important stuff. Not when..." I sigh. "I'm worried about Lyric. He got dragged through a lot of this because of me."
Father shakes his head. "Wrong. He dragged himself through the greater part of this. Why don't you let him fight his own battles, as he's already proven he can? I understand and encourage your wish to protect him, but...well, I've already had to learn that I can't shelter all of you. Sometimes it's difficult, though, to sort out when to be a parent and when to be something else. Roles are so very complex, with me. That's without even a mention of my role as Judge." I sit up a little straighter at the mention of that role, an automatic reflex.
"...Yeah. Well..." I slump. "It's all in the past, now." It still hurts, though. Damn shame I can't hide that anymore, because it's embarrassing.
"It's not your fault you died. I will say that what happened after your death did not occur due to a lack of honor to your memory. Does it sound worse that she needed consoling? That I might have too?"
I screw my mouth to the side. That's just...kind of weird. "No, but uh...awkward. I guess death is kind of awkward, though."
"Yes. That is very true, Gerald. Death is awkward. I am glad you have learned this."
I down half my glass, finally giving the wine some attention. It seemed to be a toasting moment. "Right, well...I'm glad I could contribute something useful to the troops."
He snorts, but it's out of genuine amusement. "You always do, whether you mean to or not. You make me very proud." That kind of sticks in my chest just from how sincerely he meant it. "I'm sorry I seem to have done something which, at the time, seemed like an insult to your memory. We did know -- should have known, in Katherine's case -- that you would be back with us, Gerald. It didn't take the pain or the loss away. You were all the more absent for it, in fact. She...she loved you. She was in a lot of pain. Maybe you should talk to her about it."
I look dubious. "Maybe she'll rip my head off."
"What's the worst that can happen, in that case? Maybe you even underestimate her, Gerald. If you assumed she forgot you so easily, that's possible."
I can't look him in the eye.
"Tell me whatever you need, when you need to. I promise I will make the time for it."
"Thank you." I rise, wine still half-finished. I leave the glass there. I'm just not in the mood for it. I clasp his hand. "Ask me, if you ever feel the need. I'm kind of stupid about remembering to mention some things, as you well know."
He chuckles. "Fine."
I leave, wondering when the last time was that a talk with my Father had gone that well. At least we're all settled between us now, if Kathe really does succeed in ending me this time.
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