#a_room_at_firnost

"Do you see? It would be better, that I could... control myself. But I feel like a ship tossed on a sea, and I know not where I should go, and I cannot stop the tumult, and instead I.. grasp, seeking purchase, but... but... that would only drag others in with me, I think...."

"And look, see? I grasp at you." She scowls, angered. "Pardon."

"Are they aware of this?" (A pause, then ruefully) "Canst thou say, as the scorpion did....that they know what thou art....when they pick thee up?" (At her last, he coughs, low once more) "Quite all right. Sooth....the troubles of others, takes one's mind, from their own, does it not?"

"And I am aware, of what I am picking up."

"I don't know. I am no scorpion. I am... a failure, perhaps. No monster, no sluagh, no maiden fair... "

"An' thou art a land mine, is that not....much the same?" (thoughtfully) "Worse, I should think, as one merely stings."

"I hath met a scorpion, once. He was charming - a dream-companion, who now wandered alone. He had lost she who dreamed him, and was... adrift."

"Aye. A bearer of venom....can have its charms." (Vaguely) "And a land-mine, can be conceal'ed, by blooming flowers....but does one know, and tread all the same. Whose fault is that, pardon? That of the mine....or the one choosing to step upon't?"

"Art thou saying, Miss....that did they desire, they could not send thee away?"

"The mine, yes? For being so disguised...."

"But once it is known...."

"They could. I am... I am not blood, am I? I was... when she was lost, I was what she left behind. And now that she is back... you see, yes? Why it would be better? I fear... when she remembers, becomes a nocker once more... she will see me.. unvarnished, no flaws softened by years of obligation.

"Mayhaps 'tis true, Milady. But....pardon...what choices have thee?" (A pause, and a ghost of a smile) "Mr. Brolin, is not blood to me."

"Yet, his life and mine....are link'ed. I daresay, the bonds of blood, are o'errated, betimes."

"I know not what choices I have. I... what I want, I want so badly, it... sings... I want and don't want, but it distracts, a whisper ever beckoning. But I know, too, that.. that it would leave others upset. Perhaps they would get over it, quickly enough? It would be better had I never been born."

"But thou wert, and Da'an is, what it is," (Mild, vague) "But tell me, Lady. What is best? Thy mind...not thy heart, what does it say?"

"My mind says... that... that I am foolish. That they love me, despite my flaws. That she will... get better, that I should be patient. But my heart howls, and my stomach burns, and I can find no quiet place."

"And that, Miss...is the true problem, then, is it not? Not her...or them. Thou know'st, that they care of thee, and time is on thy side, with the Lady Miriam." (Speaking slowly, thoughtfully. Reasoning it out) "Thine actions, are inform'ed by thy desires."

"Yes. I... I am the problem, yes. It is my weakness that... it's contemptible."

"And mayhaps thine esteem of thyself, that could use work, as well," (Mild humor)

"But how, Miss....dost thou direct or quell thy desires, when needed?"

"I... try to stop them. Ask Ice, I am... too emotional, featherheaded. Too squeamish. Too weak. Too much or not enough. I fear, too, I have caused him some offense, I don't know..."

"He hath made nae mention of it, pardon, an' it is so." (Thoughtfully) "But, he does not speak of his....emotions, does he have them. I merely gather from observation. Why dost thou believe thou hast gi'en offense?" (A pause, collecting his thoughts. He lowers his left hand, letting the exercise balls cease their chiming) "I cannot advise thee, Milady. The best, I may do, mayhaps, is to gift thee a calming tea, that allows thee to think more clearly, in small amounts."

"Take some, when the burn of thy stomach grows o'ermuchly."

"I think... I think, mayhaps... I have caused a riff, unwittingly? Ice is my best friend. Yet there... I have done something, to damage it. "

(A soft murmur) "It is not mine to speak of, Milady. Merely...I can ask....when it began." (A pause) "Just as I could not mention, the business of the Lady Marguerite, when it involve'd thee. It would not have been, mayhaps...soon after, the gentleman troll, became foremost...would it?"

"It... mayhaps. But I care for Ice. You know this, yes? And he... pardon, but he did n-not wish for... me... I am not... I am too seelie, yes? Too.... well, the laundry list."

(Mildly) "Aye. Of course." (A faint smile, placid) "What I know, matters not. Just as what thou know'st to be true....does not inform thy heart, does it?"

"I may be wrong, Milady, it was merely....observation."

"The heart listens not."

"Just so."

"Shall I send thee, a few bags of the tea, pardon? It cannot do harm."

"I... mayhaps."

"Are you familiar, sir, with the Snow Queen's mirror?"

(He stops to think, a long span of heartbeats) "It is....familiar. But just so I understand....canst thou refresh my memory, pardon?"

"Her mirror, it showed her all she would ever wish to see - but... it was flawed. For all it showed, it showed the venal, the imperfect, the weaknesses... at one time, it shattered. And the shards spread into the world, lodging like poison. One.. one had a shard in his eye, and could only see ill. I feel, a'times, that... that I have found one. I know that... that I have friends, that they see me differently than I do myself. But when I look, I cannot understand."

"It is, I think, flawed thinking. Unbalanced."

"Recognizing this, Milady...is the first and best step...in mine opinion, pardon...of changing it, an' it be thy desire." (A brief, faint smile) "Mr. Ice despises when I speak of jewels, having facets. He says truth is stark, nae matter how it is seen. But he speaks of -facts-....not -truths-. That view is true, aye. But there are other views, other eyne....that thou needs understand...that thou art being seen, by others."

"An' thou wert so very flaw'ed and destructive. Wouldst thou have so many, that would deign to remain in thy company, pardon? Dost thou know so many....ah, what is the word? Masochists?" (A faint smile)

"I fear losing them. They are... before finding Firnost, I did not have friends. I had books and day dreams and my family.... "

"Aye. And what is fear? Betimes....what we deal in, are shadows thrown against a wall, large to the one they menace, but harmless in truth."

"Those, it seems to me...are thy shadows."

"Unseemly, perhaps, but... but I like having them. It is like... like being in a story, inside, not just... observing. But I fear they shall... see me, as I am. As I see myself. And somehow.. somehow that is worse than if they had never cared at all. I do not mind the scorn of strangers. But..."

"I cannot advise thee, Milady. And what if they do?" (His glasses fix on her) "What then?"

"It shall happen, in thy life."

"I know."

"Having them... it... I know, I should be content alone. But they often... their company, it makes me happy."

"Such as we, are not made for happiness. Not constantly, at any rate. After a time...I believe....mayhaps we...grow dissatisfied with it." (After a pause to consider, once more) "And an ending, shall not change this, of our nature. It merely manifests again....when next we incarnate. So I warrant it best, pardon...to find a means to cope," (Not ungently) "As there is naught that can prevent grief, in life, aye?"

"No. And... a'times, the grief is... yes. Appealing. But... balance, yes? And I am out of equilibrium. Maybe... maybe it will ease, when she remembers?"

"Aye, Milady. Much shall change, then," (After a moment to consider the situation; he is slowed, still, but lucid) "Change may not be good....not entirely, mayhaps...despite what some believe. But it is, inevitable."