milliways_bar | (no subject)

I'm trying, Morgan.

Really.

*Alanna swipes a hand across her eyes and stands, moving to sit by Morgan. She stares awkwardly at the girl's fists.*

I want to help. What's really wrong? What can I do?

"Didn't he tell you? Adam? That my mind is in pieces? They fly apart, and I can't find them again."

You mentioned it once, I think. *Alanna reaches over and gently pats her shoulder.* I honestly don't remember Adam saying so. Perhaps he thought you wouldn't want it shared.

I think, perhaps, you should meet my friend Alex. Maybe then you will see... I do understand, Morgan. As much as I can.

What do you see now?

She looks around, ducking her head as if she has a migraine. Quietly,

"Patterns. Of magic or light. Sliding and dancing. Glass, broken on the ground. Knots of people and emotions. Here love, there jealousy. A whispering in my head. Just...things. Shouldn't be there."

*Alanna chokes, going first red, then pale.*

Really? You get... all that?

*She looks around, eyes a bit desperate.* I wonder if it would be possible to measure all the magic in this place.

How do you know if they are meant to be there or not?

"Because it wasn't there before!" She flinches at the sound of her own voice, and Arianrhod hisses.

"Before, before...you healed my back. I didn't see as much before that. It makes it worse and I know there's no glass or blood because no one else sees it. Walk on it. Not supposed to be there, and it is."

*Alanna swallows and glances at the snake.*

Are you given to prophetic visions at all, lass?

Trauma... changes things, on occasion. It might not be permanent.

"Sometimes."

She laughs, low and bitter.

"No? It might be, too. My son...he says I'm crazy. Still. When I raised him. Didn't get better."

In his reality, no. But your reality is different. We can make it different. *She looks determined.*

"How can you do that, Alanna? It's my head. My senses. Not govered by will or reason."

She shakes her head, and looks away.

I don't know. But we can try. If it's possible anywhere, it would be here. I wish... I wish lots of things. But most of all, I wish I had a better answer for you.

*She sighs, thinking that Morgan really sounds the more lucid of the two.*

Will and reason aren't everything you know. There's always heart.

Softly,

"You say that as yours hurts."

*She stares, eventually blinking out of self-defense.*

You...

Sometimes even pain has a purpose. Maybe a thing hurts to make itself known. Or to remind us it's even there to begin with.

Her dreamy eyes not looking away,

"Why jealousy? What have I done?"

*Alanna schools her features, uncomfortable.*

I repeat, you have done nothing.

*She chews on her lip, thinking Adam's name and wondering how he would feel about this conversation.*

"...you're jealous over Adam?"

*Her mouth drops open and she rubs her forehead, turning pink.*

I'm... You're... 'Tis nothing.

*She closes her eyes, mentally reciting the rules of chivalry in her head. You will obey your overlord. You will never turn away from those in need. You will NOT act like a complete JACKASS.

An edited version, at least.*

"Oh, for...Alanna." She straightens in her chair, every inch a princess for a moment.

Eyes...mostly clear.

"Tell me. Please."

*She shakes her head swiftly, eyes pleading.* I can not without breaking a confidence.

*Sighing, Alanna waves her hand at Morgan - her grace, her hair, her height.*

It's not so outrageous an idea. But I promise you, I am being ridiculous, and will now shut my mouth on the matter.

"Can't shut your head. It's confusing, though..." She rubs her eyes.

"I just...I want to know what's going on."

Aye. My head is a very confusing place.

*She takes a deep breath, trying not to be bothered by Morgan's ability to see inside her brain. It's not malicious in intent like some other experiences Alanna has had with this sort of thing, but it still makes her uneasy. Mumbling mostly to herself, she turns and stares at the observation window.*

Maybe it's just fear. I'm not... Battles don't scare me. Dying doesn't scare me anymore. I'd face down a god if I thought it was right. But this?

Terrified.

There is silence for a moment.

"Hurts more then dying. More long-term. Fall in love, give everything up, then he turns around and throws you out. What if, what if...think of what ifs and you go mad."

She resettles herself, pulling the blanket more around her.

"What if, what if...better not to think. Ask in the begining and then accept afterwards, if you can. Not scared of Barty, like I was of Arthur and Urien. Not in love with me, just in like. And...we both know that some point we both leave and do other things. So, for now we just enjoy each other's company. Everything clear at the outset, no months of hiding and lying and evasion. Makes it all uncertain, and you start saying 'what if'."

*Blinking back tears, Alanna shakes her head as if trying to forget what was just said.*

I don't know that I'm built that way, Morgan. But you're right. It's better to know sooner rather than later. Or just...

It might minimize the hurt.

*She swallows, not entirely sure what she's saying. What if?

What if I'd done what Father wanted? Would he have loved me? What if I'd saved Francis? What if I'd let Roger live the first time? What if I'd said yes to Jon? What if I'd stayed at Court? Would Thom still be alive?

What if I'd just swallowed my pride and told Adam the truth?

All the second guessing in the world won't change what has happened, and who she is. She nods, blowing out a breath.*

Some risks are worth taking, I suppose. Then you just hope you've enough people left who care and are willing to help you pick up the pieces.

"No one can." Her expression is neutral, a court mask.

"No one can pick up the pieces. Just you. And if you aren't strong enough, you go mad."

Pause.

"I need to go now."

Just you.

*Alone. Mad. A tiny puff of air crosses her lips, and Alanna shakes her head.*

No, Morgan. I'll leave you be. I'm sorry I upset you further.

*She stands, brushing her breeches off.*

Try to eat something? Please? *After staring at her for a moment, she beats a hasty retreat, racing for the door and fresh air.*