[Alia tilts her head slowly, thoughtfully, considering Matt like she's the impassive temple maiden she'd shown him a glimpse of. A god, untouchable, unknowable, unattainable. Only her bright eyes, hollow and haunted, remain those of a girl.]
Everyone sees me as I am, now. Perhaps it was foolish of me to assume I could hide from it forever. [She sits up, then, moving slow and careful, as if her body aches, as if grief is a physical ache.] I am safer contained. A knife belongs in it's sheath.
[Had she known, on some level, up in the ballroom, that it was inevitable? Her sin unremembered, her crime committed by a force not her own -- yet it loomed, it waited, it stalked and swallowed her whole.]
[ Matt scrubs the back of his hand across his eyes, blinking back moisture as best he can. It's the least he can do for Alia right now: meet her eyes. Try to follow her down the labyrinth of her thoughts, powerful and sensitive and bright-gleaming beyond the compass of Matt's understanding, to find her where she is. ]
Does everybody? [ he echoes quietly back to her. ] See you as you are? Or did this place go to ... pretty extreme lengths to try and show us a specific version of you.
[ A second attempt at what he tried to express a moment ago. Alicent said they were all pawns on the board, and Matt believes it: No matter how strong they are, what powers they possess, who they are back home, in this house they're all movable game pieces. Incapable of seeing the hands that pilot them, only the mess that results. ]
[Alia seems to consider it, reaching up absently to smooth her tousled, tangled hair back into place. It isn't terribly effective, her messy curls beginning to mat, her fingers snarling in the tangle for a moment.]
You stood there, as I did, Matt. I was first convicted, first sentenced. You saw how all regarded me. What is there after this? [She slowly drops her hand, letting it rest in her lap, looking down at her fingers, her palms, upturned as if petitioning. Please. Please.] No matter how kind, how earnest their attempts to see me as more than a murderer, there will always be a moment of doubt -- remember what she did. Remember what she is.
[Alia sighs, closing her eyes and seeming to go inward for a long, long moment.] I will never be just-Alia again. This is a loss I must mourn. [She opens her eyes, regards Matt before her, says not unkindly:] Just as I must mourn Paul. There is no other way but through this grief. Do you understand, Matt?
[ Matt's still flailing, trying to come up with the right thing to say, the right rabbit out of a hat to transmute all these bars and locked door into a way out. Until Alia says, This is a loss I must mourn.
And then, like a flipped switch, he does understand.
He's been going about this all wrong. Trying to bargain with her, with their circumstances, to make everything okay. But it's not. And if he tries to force it, he'll be hurting her all over again. Matt swallows around the lump in his throat; scrapes his teeth across his lip. And he nods. ]
... Yeah.
I do.
[ A pause. ]
Is there anything I can do to make it easier? Anything at all? I can shut up and just stay down here for awhile. Or I can leave, if leaving would be better.
[Alia watches quietly, waits for it to settle, the weight of inevitable grief. There is no escaping it, when it drapes like a mantle over one's shoulders, when it weighs you down, down towards the earth. There is only enduring, taking one step after another, learning to exist with it until your muscles strengthen enough to carry it.
When Matt looks up, she half-smiles, tangled hair and weary face.]
You may stay. I would hear of what I am missing. Out on the grounds. The changing leaves and the crisp air. I imagine the distraction of this game means few are appreciating the seasons, but perhaps you could tell me some?
[ As she watches, Matt's expression drains of some of its desperate animation, the set of his shoulders sinking. It's a quiet shift, one that's not without its own strange form of relief. Part of Matt's pain comes from the situation, but another part comes from wanting to comfort Alia and not knowing how--comfort, in this case, meaning not "kiss it all better, all at once" but something more modest. Giving Alia something she wants to receive.
So he focuses a moment, thinking of the world outside. ]
It's definitely getting crisper out there. A lot of the outdoor flowers look like they're getting ready to go to ground for the season, although the aster and chrysanthemum are thriving. [ A sudden, startled look comes over his face, and Matt cranes (moving too fast, making himself wince) to pluck his phone from his pocket. ] Hang on--I never told you about my minnows. Or maybe I'm their human, but either way ...
[ Matt scrolls to his recent photos and turns the phone so Alia can see it. It shows a mason jar containing four minnows. ]
Their names are Summer, Spring, Autumn, and Winter. Bella found them in me when she pulled me out of the lake, and she thought I might want to keep them.
[ Normally Matt would try to talk around this, but he feels like Alia can hang. ]
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no subject
Everyone sees me as I am, now. Perhaps it was foolish of me to assume I could hide from it forever. [She sits up, then, moving slow and careful, as if her body aches, as if grief is a physical ache.] I am safer contained. A knife belongs in it's sheath.
[Had she known, on some level, up in the ballroom, that it was inevitable? Her sin unremembered, her crime committed by a force not her own -- yet it loomed, it waited, it stalked and swallowed her whole.]
no subject
Does everybody? [ he echoes quietly back to her. ] See you as you are? Or did this place go to ... pretty extreme lengths to try and show us a specific version of you.
[ A second attempt at what he tried to express a moment ago. Alicent said they were all pawns on the board, and Matt believes it: No matter how strong they are, what powers they possess, who they are back home, in this house they're all movable game pieces. Incapable of seeing the hands that pilot them, only the mess that results. ]
no subject
You stood there, as I did, Matt. I was first convicted, first sentenced. You saw how all regarded me. What is there after this? [She slowly drops her hand, letting it rest in her lap, looking down at her fingers, her palms, upturned as if petitioning. Please. Please.] No matter how kind, how earnest their attempts to see me as more than a murderer, there will always be a moment of doubt -- remember what she did. Remember what she is.
[Alia sighs, closing her eyes and seeming to go inward for a long, long moment.] I will never be just-Alia again. This is a loss I must mourn. [She opens her eyes, regards Matt before her, says not unkindly:] Just as I must mourn Paul. There is no other way but through this grief. Do you understand, Matt?
no subject
And then, like a flipped switch, he does understand.
He's been going about this all wrong. Trying to bargain with her, with their circumstances, to make everything okay. But it's not. And if he tries to force it, he'll be hurting her all over again. Matt swallows around the lump in his throat; scrapes his teeth across his lip. And he nods. ]
... Yeah.
I do.
[ A pause. ]
Is there anything I can do to make it easier? Anything at all? I can shut up and just stay down here for awhile. Or I can leave, if leaving would be better.
no subject
When Matt looks up, she half-smiles, tangled hair and weary face.]
You may stay. I would hear of what I am missing. Out on the grounds. The changing leaves and the crisp air. I imagine the distraction of this game means few are appreciating the seasons, but perhaps you could tell me some?
no subject
So he focuses a moment, thinking of the world outside. ]
It's definitely getting crisper out there. A lot of the outdoor flowers look like they're getting ready to go to ground for the season, although the aster and chrysanthemum are thriving. [ A sudden, startled look comes over his face, and Matt cranes (moving too fast, making himself wince) to pluck his phone from his pocket. ] Hang on--I never told you about my minnows. Or maybe I'm their human, but either way ...
[ Matt scrolls to his recent photos and turns the phone so Alia can see it. It shows a mason jar containing four minnows. ]
Their names are Summer, Spring, Autumn, and Winter. Bella found them in me when she pulled me out of the lake, and she thought I might want to keep them.
[ Normally Matt would try to talk around this, but he feels like Alia can hang. ]