Young Writers Society

Gaius huffed. "It worked for me when I was fourteen. I fibbed a little." He levered himself off the carriage, intending to leave. "The only thing keeping me alive these days is my family and the presence of purpose." There. He'd told her the truth now; she could stop trying to soften her words.

She watched him, trying to tamp down the irritation that bubbled up in her. She wasn't the one who had started this conversation. He was the one who brought it up; he was the one who fucked it up. It wasn't her fault that he'd decided to feed her a crock of bullshit. Wasn't her fault that she wasn't willing to eat it up with no questions.

"I'm not a child," she said, more of an edge to her voice than she'd meant for there to be. But they were going on two months people calling her a child and remarking about how young she was. She'd already lived through more hell than most people would see in their lives. And she was only fifteen. "I don't see why you're upset at me for not believing your 'fibs'. Everyone keeps talking about how young I am and calling me half-grown and a child and all sorts of other things, and I'm not. If you want me to believe you, you should tell me the truth." She slammed her hand over her mouth, eyes wide as a surge of horror and terror ran through her that that had come out her mouth. She dropped her gaze. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I'm sorry."

Gaius turned, looming despite himself. His eyes were cold and impassive. "You are a child," he said icily. "You have experienced things no child should experience, granted, and those things have matured you beyond your years. But you are still a child. Perhaps I'm sparing you by telling you lies. Perhaps I'm a fool for doing so, but I wasn't going to fill you up with more hopelessness. But there you have it, there's the truth." His good hand was white-knuckled around his cane.

Her eyes were on his cane, rather than his face, mind, despite herself, imagining him clubbing her with it. She supposed she'd deserve it if he did. And yet, somehow, that almost seemed worth it. He wouldn't torture her. If he did that to her, then he'd have to keep her forever, and Lyra, too, so Tomhas wouldn't learn about it. And she couldn't imagine what Tomhas would do if that happened.

Although, she supposed, he'd already sacrificed Lyra in a war with Gaius. How would it be different if he sacrificed both of his oldest daughters this time? Especially since she was a second-hand daughter, anyway. One you'd find in a flea market, discounted to half-price since she was so broken and worthless.

She tried to force the thoughts down. She didn't want to think of Gaius like that. Certainly didn't want to think of Tomhas like that. None of that was based in any truth whatsoever. She was projecting her own anxiety on them, once again, making them out to be villains when they were nothing but decent to her from the moment they met her.

"Guess--" she cut herself off. What was wrong with her? She was better at controlling herself than this. She couldn't help but hear Aleth's words echoing in her ears. Oh, you wanna talk? Go ahead, then, I'm listening. There was nearly as much threat in Gaius's gaze as there'd been in Aleth's. They were both assholes. They both hated her. And at this point, she wasn't sure if she minded that. Perhaps she hated both of them, too.

She gritted her teeth, keeping her glare on his hand rather than his face, the closest she could come to looking submissive just then. Her jaw hurt from how tightly it was clenched. She had so much she wanted to say to him. And yet she couldn't say a single word to him without her being disrespectful. Even more disrespectful. She'd promised to stop being such a bitch. She needed to carry it through to this. No matter how much she wanted to say to him.

Gaius stood there, shoulders tensed and rigid, and waited. When no reply came he waited a little more. What was he doing, threatening this traumatized girl, hanging over her like a wretched vulture? This was something his father would do--had done. But his feathers were badly ruffled, and he couldn't help but feel angry. He'd tried to help, done what his brother would do, and gotten nothing but wheedling and false sincerity in return. Then he'd been honest, admitted something he hadn't even admitted to Tomhas or Sara, and she got mad at him. What was a man to do?
Slowly, painfully, he forced his body to relax so he wasn't towering over her, and he made himself exhale. He still didn't move, though; he felt tired and angry and so, so weak. He wasn't sure he could go to the tent right now even though he wanted to. So he stood there, gripping his cane and keeping his gimlet eyes trained on her.

She felt his posture relax, and tried to force her own to as well, but couldn't quite seem to manage it. She was angrier than she'd been in a while. Angrier, even, than she'd been at him when he'd challenged her at the campfire. Then, at least, he'd been attempting to help, even if he was doing a poor job of it. Now he was just being an asshole.

And two could play that game.

She forced the thought out of her mind. No. No two couldn't play that game. One was a cold-hearted Lord. The other was an idiot girl provoking him for no reason whatsoever.

She finally looked up to meet his gaze, expression hard and jaw clenched as she tried with everything within her to find the motivation to back down. Even though she wished he'd just start hitting her and let her say all the things she wanted to say in the process. It'd be worth the broken bones for the emotional catharsis.

"I apologize for being disrespectful," she said stiffly, at last, attempting, and failing, to be submissive. Her body language was just as rigid as it had been, anger radiating off her. She wasn't sorry for her anger; wasn't even sorry, really, for her thoughts -- apart from the brief one about Tomhas, that had appalled her to have even crossed her mind. She was right. She was justified in her anger. Gaius wasn't acting respectable just then. The only thing she was sorry for was for voicing it. She needed to keep her emotions to herself. For Tomhas.

Damn her, why wasn't she calling him out? Why wasn't she rightfully furious, letting herself yell at him? He knew why, and he hated Aleth for it, but an argument was what he wanted. He wanted her to acknowledge she was wrong and to acknowledge that he was wrong too, but it wasn't going to happen. He gazed at her for a moment longer, jaw set.
"No," he said finally, wishing desperately that he could find it in him to just let this go and climb back into his tent to be miserable.

"No what?" she hissed, anger bubbling up in her again. What the actual fuck was that supposed to mean? No, she wasn't allowed to be angry? No, he didn't accept her apology? No, that he knew she was lying, like she always fucking lied to spare the fucking feelings of motherfuckers who used their power to hurt her in return? She bristled at the thought of him forcing a more sincere apology. She braced herself, ready to dig her thumb into her wound if she needed to. Pain would ground her. Make her feel apologetic rather than angry. Well... make her act apologetic, anyway.

"You can't call me a liar and then say something like that," he retorted. "It's hypocritical. I don't give a damn if you're sorry or not, Ky, but if you've got something to say then say it instead of sparing my feelings."

"Then I guess I'm glad I'm close to being eighteen," she spat, emboldened by his permission. "Maybe then people will finally start taking me seriously. Maybe then I'll be allowed to think what I want and say what I want and not always have to be the one to back down and sit down and shut up because I am a 'child' who, apparently, has no idea how the world works. Maybe once I turn eighteen I'll magically stop feeling angry -- or at the very least have people take me seriously and stop acting like I'm a toddler throwing a fit at getting the wrong color bowl instead of a fucking human who knows what she thinks and how she feels and is justified in those emotions. I'm not going to magically turn into a new person once I'm an 'adult' and I'm sick and tired of having to deal with people acting like I'm ridiculous and like I need to be coddled. Do you think I haven't thought of trying to be happy? That I was going to come out of this conversation and think a hug from a child would magically outweigh all the horrible, horrible things my brain does to me every moment of the day? Do you want to ask me if I've considered thinking happy thoughts about when my arm wasn't stabbed to see if that makes it hurt less now?"

"Nobody said you couldn't think and say what you want," Gaius began, frustrated. "None of us, anyway. Do as you bloody well please, Ky. And we take you more seriously than you could possibly imagine. Tomhas pussyfoots around you, tries to make you comfortable and happy, sends you away with me, because he takes you so seriously. I'm having this conversation with you because I take you bloody seriously. Because you're a human being who has a right to be angry, who has a right to express her frustrations. We're not coddling you; we're trying to be conscious of you. We're still getting a handle on what triggers you and what's safe. It's a process. Instead of batting your eyes and hushing up and blushing, perhaps you could help us out and tell us what works and what doesn't. And no, I don't think you can 'magically' be fixed by some trivial affection. That's not the way the world works. But instead of considering thinking happy thoughts, maybe try turning your mind outward rather than inward and look at the world. I don't expect you to be a ray of sunshine, but dwelling on the horrors makes things worse than some nonsensical flower-picking. Tomhas may be full of dandelion down but he's got the right idea." Gaius went silent, slightly winded. Perhaps that got through to her. Or perhaps he'd royally fucked up again.

Ky hesitated, blinking at him. Why hadn't he cut her down to size? Why hadn't he come at her swinging -- physically or verbally? Had they... somehow come to an agreement just then? Her cheeks were burning, contrasted sharply with the snow all around them, but her shoulders relaxed a little, as did the furrow between her brows.

"I don't understand what I'm supposed to do," she said, voice quieter and less venomous. "I hurt peoples' feelings when I'm honest, and you all get angry with me if I try to be nice instead. I want to be a pleasant, positive addition to the family and instead, I'm just a walking faux pas and I don't know how to fix that. I don't understand what the expectations are, so I can't possibly meet them, and I've been trying to be worth love--" She tried to cut herself off, but it was too late. It startled her that it'd come out her mouth. Startled her that she'd thought it at all. It was true, of course. But she'd never put that feeling into words before. It was an unsettling feeling now that she had. "... Worth the effort. And I still can't figure it out."

Gaius's gaze softened slightly. So they were at the heart of the matter now, or close to it. "Honesty can be slippery, but with this family it's generally preferred," he told her. "There were too many lies back before. And we've all told you tine and time again to stop focusing on us and our feelings and just be yourself. Tomhas loves you no matter how you're feeling or what you've said or done. He's baffled me countless times with his unconditional love. His whome family feels the same way, I guarantee it. And me..." He sighed. "I'm a tough nut to crack, I'll give you that. I don't like opening up. But you've impressed me a few times, amused me more than once. I like you, and your love for reading endears you to me even more. But don't worry about impressing me. You've gotten through to my own family, and I'm not important in the grand scheme of things. Just be who you are." He took a step back, finally feeling confident in his balance. "You've been worth the effort from the very beginning."

Tomhas loves you.

It ripped away the crutch of her anger and left her feeling vulnerable. Exposed. And she didn't know what to do with it.

Especially not since he followed it with I like you.

Somehow, that felt like an even harder thing to achieve than Tomhas's approval. Tomhas loved freely; she didn't think the same could be said about Gaius's affection. And yet she doubted he'd have said it if it wasn't true.

And yet. If he knew who she really was -- what she really was -- he couldn't possibly like her. And Tomhas couldn't possibly love her, either. No one should like her. Should love her. She was a poison that should be sent into the hills to be buried.

She took a shaky breath, looking off in the distance as she blinked and tried to pretend that her eyes weren't going misty. She'd be damned if she was crying in front of Gaius. Again. She hadn't even cried in front of him when she'd gotten stabbed. No. He'd seen it once. That's all he'd ever see.

She swallowed hard, throat constricting.

"No one knows what a monster I am." Her voice was barely audible now, eyes getting even damper, though no tears fell and she decidedly kept her hands at her sides in a weak attempt to make it less noticeable that she was tearing up. "I'm a fraud, and I'm confused why none of you have noticed, yet. I'm awful. And I'm trying so hard not to be, but I... I am. Whether you see it or not."

"The way I see it," Gaius said slowly, "the only person who's wrong about who you really are is you. I mean, you just turned a six hundred year old beast of legend into your personal bodyguard just by caring for him. You helped him and then when he gave you a gift in return you decided you wanted to give him a gift because of the other gift. Who told you you're a monster, Ky?"