Video - Seelie/Unseelie (Memory)

[teenyoda]

[If Stiles had been asked which memory he would have thought would have been forcibly pulled from his brain and broadcast to the entire Drabwurld, he never would have thought it would have been the one chosen by the star. With how his life had been lately, he would have expected something along the lines of screaming and death and pain and blood. Hurt. He'd expected to hurt.

He did, but in a different sort of way.]

[The boy that came running down the stairs had to have been about six or seven, dark hair tufted and sticking up, pajamas emblazoned with iconic little Batman symbols as bare feet padded over carpeted floors, down a set of stairs and over to the large Christmas tree set up in the corner. There was no snow outside (duh, California), but there was fake snow sprayed all over the windows, snowflake decals added to give it a winter feel. There was a gasp, little hands moving up to cover a mouth open in an 'o' of surprised glee at the presents piled up under the tree. The boy went over, pulling one out and shaking it, then looking up the stairs with a sort of thoughtful look. Maybe he could open just one before...]

Put that down, Stiles. Let us at least get a little coffee in us first?

[His dad came down the stairs, flannel pj pants and a tshirt half covered by a robe. He was yawning and scratching at his belly as he shuffled towards the kitchen. A woman followed after, looking just as sleepy but giving him a fond smile as she came over, her robe closed as she went to sit on the couch.]

Oh, let him open just one. It'll help him take the edge off, right, baby?

[The woman smiled at the boy and the boy jumped up, coming over to throw small arms around her neck and give her an enthusiastic kiss. The woman laughed and ruffled his hair, pushing him back over to the tree.]

Go on, then. One to tide you over until your old, grumpy parents get some caffeine in them.

[His dad sighed and looked over at her, but he clearly wasn't actually all that put out.]

You know you spoil him.

He's a baby. He's supposed to be spoiled.

I am not. I'm almost seven. That's practically all grown up.

See, mom? Practically a man already.

[The man laughed and set up the coffee maker before coming over and sitting heavily in a chair.]

Well, go on, then. It's two against one. Majority rules.

[The boy grinned, coming over and giving his dad a thankful hug before he went over to the tree, picking out one of the medium packages because he wanted to build up anticipation for that big one in the corner.

There were flickers of how that morning continued; paper everywhere, ribbons tied in hair both long and short, happy smiles as socks were oohed and ahhed over, gifts made by small hands fussed over and elated squeals of glee over the large box, which turned out to be a Star Wars compilation present with Lego sets and a pair of light sabers that would be used the next day with Scott. They'd both be broken in four months. The image flickered and faded with the three of them on the couch, the boy sitting on the woman's lap, playing with a strand of hair as the man sat beside them, showing them something in a book he'd gotten from his wife.]

IN THE MORNING
[With eyes a little red, he addressed the network.]

So... guess there's nothing we can do to stop that, huh?

[What he really wanted to ask is if there was a way to save it.]

Comments

[steeledskin]

She loved my Lord Father as well, you see. I don't want to--

[ speak poorly of family. though lysa is not alayne's aunt. and lysa (come the end) was no friend to her. not truly. ] I should not want to insult her memory.

[teenyoda]

There's different kinds of love, Alayne. Some people just mess it up sometimes. I'm sorry to hear she died, though. That had to be hard on your dad.

[Says the guy who'd lost his mom and had watched it wreck his dad for a while.]

[steeledskin]

[ petyr got over it :| ] They were not married long.

[ but her true father. he lost his lady love, though it had taken her time to love her in earnest. she lets her heart sink for eddard stark. ] He's well. But...thank you for your sympathies, all the same.

[teenyoda]

[Considering he killed her, Stiles was pretty sure that wasn't a trial for him.]

Losing parents are hard. Losing anyone's hard. It isn't something that gets easier the more it happens.

[steeledskin]

[ today she cannot bring herself to tell alayne's lies: of losing a mother at an age too young to remember; of innocence in the face of lady lysa's death; of tender maternal love for the lordling left behind. these words gum up her throat and turn her tongue to heavy iron. she must take a moment and pick her way more carefully around the truths. ]

It bites chunks out of you, doesn't it? [ and it's a wonder i have any of me left. ]

[teenyoda]

Big ones. Huge chunks and the rest of you just keeps bleeding.

[Well... this conversation has taken a rather morbid turn.]

It scabs over, but little things can catch at it and make it bleed again.

[He was actually surprised at the amount of tv commercials that could bring a tear to his eye.]

[steeledskin]

Some say that loss makes us stronger. [ ... ] I fear it only makes us harder.

[teenyoda]

It can do both. Or one. Or neither. There's no one way to deal with things, Alayne. Just because I handle it one way doesn't mean that's how you have to do it. Or how you should do it.

[steeledskin]

How would you say you do handle it? [ she asks, half-guessing at the answer in her mind. ]

[teenyoda]

Not thinking about it. It's easier to just... put it in a box in my mind and lock it away than go over it all the time.

[steeledskin]

[ a box! what a novel thought. a little weirwood box, she thinks, with locks and latches. sansa might pour her discontent into its hollow and leave her tears behind. she wonders how hard it is; how challenging. ]

Does your box ever get too...full?

[teenyoda]

Sometimes, yeah. But I still just keep cramming stuff in there... once you start doing it, it's easier than having to keep looking at it over and over. Especially when you can't do anything about it but you want to.

[steeledskin]

Your...vision. Your dream. It's so beautiful; I hope it isn't another something destined for the box.

[teenyoda]

No...

No, that's one of those good memories I can look at. Something that reminds me that it wasn't always bad.

[steeledskin]

[ wasn't always bad. she weaves between those lines; she comprehends. but she says nothing, sticking to light commentary on a serious topic: ] A piece of home to carry with you. I imagine these clever little lockets can play things more than only the once?

[teenyoda]

I don't know. I haven't... I guess I'll find out.

[Maybe he'd keep it, if he could figure out how. Something to look at when he needed a bit of home.]