A serious subject of conversation
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A light breeze swept over the farm land, ruffling the trees into a quiet bustle and brushing over the trim grass. Fiona watched it all from her perch on her bedroom window. Far away, the cows and sheep grazed with usual dull movement.
So far away were her thoughts that the sound of the next window being pulled open was the first alert she had to Glynna’s presence. Her twin was already climbing up onto the window sill above her own bed by the time Fiona looked over. There they sat, with a metre and a half of brick between them, watching over the slow moving farm.
Finally, Glynna broke the silence.
“Do you wanna go up there?” she glanced very slightly to her sister.
Fiona frowned, because that answer was not so easy. “... no,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t really.”
Somehow Glynna seemed unsurprised. “I wouldn’t either,” she admitted.
“It’s creepy,” shivered Fiona, hunching up her shoulders to shield herself from an imaginary gust of wind.
The breeze floated by, dragging the warm summer air along their faces and bare knees. Faintly, in the distance, came the sharp bark of one of the dogs. A thoughtful silence swayed in the atmosphere between them. Fiona sighed, falling heavily against the side of the wall.
“I won’t know what to do,” she said to the wall, closing her eyes so tightly the skin on her forehead crinkled. “I won’t be nice about it and if I see any ghost I’m going to tell it to go away.”
Glynna watched the expression carefully. “I wouldn’t know what to do either,” she shrugged. “I mean, come on. It’s a ghost.”
That caused Fiona to open her eyes and look up. “I know, right?” she said, holding out her arms. “I mean, yeah you wanted him back but he’s a ghost, it’s not real, is it?” She groaned with irritation. “If ...” she trailed off with the new thought almost instantly, and tried again. “You can’t accept a ghost into your life. This is just - this is ridiculous.”
In her usual careful nature, Glynna only pursed her lips and looked sombre.
“Is that what Janus is doing? Have they really?” she asked, slowly.
Fiona made a confused noise. “I dunno - it kind of sounded like it from Janus’ entry - that Schala and Sasha are happy ...”
Glynna waited a moment, watching Fiona’s face for sign of a continued thought, before prompting; “And Janus?”
“I dunno,” Fiona sighed again. “But it doesn’t matter cuz I know I can’t go up to him and say ‘this is ridiculous you need to not rely on a ghost’. Like! It’s worse for you! They can probably get over his death easier than learning to live with a fucking ghost, what the fuck!?”
Fiona had become too loud; and she noticed. A panicked silence hung in the air - luckily their voices had only been carried away from the house by the wind and drowned out by the sounds of a tractor.
Glynna broke the silence carefully and quietly. “Are you gonna talk to ma about it?”
Fiona shot her a look, but managed to keep her volume down. “Are you kidding? And really let her think Janus is a bad influence?”
“She wouldn’t ...” began Glynna in feeble protest.
“After meeting with Myr’s goddamn parents - you can hear it in her tone when she asks me about him,” Fiona shook her head in disgust.
Glynna frowned to the side - she could not deny that.*
“Well ... what are you gonna do?”
It was a big question. A cow seemed to sense the intensity of the moment and let out a droning moo to herald Fiona’s answer.
“I wish I could tell them to get a grip. Sure, I know their lives have been pretty fucked up for - like - ever. But at some point you’ve got to realise the ghost of your dead husband isn’t a good enough stand in! -and neither is his dodgy - but surprisingly observant - friend.”
Her little speech ended with a groan and dropping her head down onto her bed, so her back was arched over the sill and her legs hung limply over the side of the house. Glynna frowned at the clouds and swung her legs over her bed. She trotted around to take a seat on the floor with her back up against Fiona’s bed - so their heads leaned against each others.
“This is just fucked,” observed Fiona.
“I know,” agreed Glynna, docile. “But ... you can’t say that, you know.”
“Ma would,” replied Fiona without need for a second thought.
“So - tell her, then,” suggested Glynna.
“No,” Fiona repeated. “I don’t need her to go shielding me here, and fighting dumb shit for me and saying obvious things to oblivious people. Even if I don’t wanna do it.”
“Are you gonna say it then?” asked Glynna with a touch of anxiety to her tone.
“You know ...” Fiona paused. “If it wasn’t Janus, I’d totally say it. Like - if it was Irene. Or someone who if they hated me I just wouldn’t give a shit. But ...”
“Janus will be mad,” finished Glynna. “Probably ... better to not, then.”
“But it isn’t!” whined Fiona, slapping her hands down on either side of her quilt. “It isn’t at all because clearly they need someone to say ‘this is retarded’ - because they don’t know that. People who know that this shit is dumb just go ‘no fucking way’. Or maybe go ‘oh my god I really want you to be here, but you’re not here so just go the fuck away don’t haunt me’. They need someone to point it out. I just ... I ...”
“Need to figure out how to say it? Gently?” offered Glynna, admiring her own restraint.
“Yeah,” sighed Fiona, disheartened. She rolled onto her side and pulled her knees up to her stomach and hid her face underneath her arms.
It took Glynna half a minute to work out what Fiona was doing. She turned around and put her hands on Fiona’s bed, pulling herself up to her knees.
“Hey ...” she frowned. “Are you ...”
“I’m not crying,” Fiona whipped her arms around to show Glynna her grumpy but dry-eyed face. Then she groaned and threw her arms back over her head, and came a muffled voice; “I’m just really irritated!”
All Glynna could do was lean her elbows on Fiona’s bed and watch her sister’s turmoil. In her own mind, she was fighting herself. She could not press Fiona to tell their mother. Though she knew it was the best, smartest thing to do, she had no new argument for it - nothing that Fiona would listen to. Besides which, she could hardly guarantee there would be no campaign against Janus and Ezla.
________________
* This is actually because of the conversation with Magus about darkbolts, but they don’t realise that.
A light breeze swept over the farm land, ruffling the trees into a quiet bustle and brushing over the trim grass. Fiona watched it all from her perch on her bedroom window. Far away, the cows and sheep grazed with usual dull movement.
So far away were her thoughts that the sound of the next window being pulled open was the first alert she had to Glynna’s presence. Her twin was already climbing up onto the window sill above her own bed by the time Fiona looked over. There they sat, with a metre and a half of brick between them, watching over the slow moving farm.
Finally, Glynna broke the silence.
“Do you wanna go up there?” she glanced very slightly to her sister.
Fiona frowned, because that answer was not so easy. “... no,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t really.”
Somehow Glynna seemed unsurprised. “I wouldn’t either,” she admitted.
“It’s creepy,” shivered Fiona, hunching up her shoulders to shield herself from an imaginary gust of wind.
The breeze floated by, dragging the warm summer air along their faces and bare knees. Faintly, in the distance, came the sharp bark of one of the dogs. A thoughtful silence swayed in the atmosphere between them. Fiona sighed, falling heavily against the side of the wall.
“I won’t know what to do,” she said to the wall, closing her eyes so tightly the skin on her forehead crinkled. “I won’t be nice about it and if I see any ghost I’m going to tell it to go away.”
Glynna watched the expression carefully. “I wouldn’t know what to do either,” she shrugged. “I mean, come on. It’s a ghost.”
That caused Fiona to open her eyes and look up. “I know, right?” she said, holding out her arms. “I mean, yeah you wanted him back but he’s a ghost, it’s not real, is it?” She groaned with irritation. “If ...” she trailed off with the new thought almost instantly, and tried again. “You can’t accept a ghost into your life. This is just - this is ridiculous.”
In her usual careful nature, Glynna only pursed her lips and looked sombre.
“Is that what Janus is doing? Have they really?” she asked, slowly.
Fiona made a confused noise. “I dunno - it kind of sounded like it from Janus’ entry - that Schala and Sasha are happy ...”
Glynna waited a moment, watching Fiona’s face for sign of a continued thought, before prompting; “And Janus?”
“I dunno,” Fiona sighed again. “But it doesn’t matter cuz I know I can’t go up to him and say ‘this is ridiculous you need to not rely on a ghost’. Like! It’s worse for you! They can probably get over his death easier than learning to live with a fucking ghost, what the fuck!?”
Fiona had become too loud; and she noticed. A panicked silence hung in the air - luckily their voices had only been carried away from the house by the wind and drowned out by the sounds of a tractor.
Glynna broke the silence carefully and quietly. “Are you gonna talk to ma about it?”
Fiona shot her a look, but managed to keep her volume down. “Are you kidding? And really let her think Janus is a bad influence?”
“She wouldn’t ...” began Glynna in feeble protest.
“After meeting with Myr’s goddamn parents - you can hear it in her tone when she asks me about him,” Fiona shook her head in disgust.
Glynna frowned to the side - she could not deny that.*
“Well ... what are you gonna do?”
It was a big question. A cow seemed to sense the intensity of the moment and let out a droning moo to herald Fiona’s answer.
“I wish I could tell them to get a grip. Sure, I know their lives have been pretty fucked up for - like - ever. But at some point you’ve got to realise the ghost of your dead husband isn’t a good enough stand in! -and neither is his dodgy - but surprisingly observant - friend.”
Her little speech ended with a groan and dropping her head down onto her bed, so her back was arched over the sill and her legs hung limply over the side of the house. Glynna frowned at the clouds and swung her legs over her bed. She trotted around to take a seat on the floor with her back up against Fiona’s bed - so their heads leaned against each others.
“This is just fucked,” observed Fiona.
“I know,” agreed Glynna, docile. “But ... you can’t say that, you know.”
“Ma would,” replied Fiona without need for a second thought.
“So - tell her, then,” suggested Glynna.
“No,” Fiona repeated. “I don’t need her to go shielding me here, and fighting dumb shit for me and saying obvious things to oblivious people. Even if I don’t wanna do it.”
“Are you gonna say it then?” asked Glynna with a touch of anxiety to her tone.
“You know ...” Fiona paused. “If it wasn’t Janus, I’d totally say it. Like - if it was Irene. Or someone who if they hated me I just wouldn’t give a shit. But ...”
“Janus will be mad,” finished Glynna. “Probably ... better to not, then.”
“But it isn’t!” whined Fiona, slapping her hands down on either side of her quilt. “It isn’t at all because clearly they need someone to say ‘this is retarded’ - because they don’t know that. People who know that this shit is dumb just go ‘no fucking way’. Or maybe go ‘oh my god I really want you to be here, but you’re not here so just go the fuck away don’t haunt me’. They need someone to point it out. I just ... I ...”
“Need to figure out how to say it? Gently?” offered Glynna, admiring her own restraint.
“Yeah,” sighed Fiona, disheartened. She rolled onto her side and pulled her knees up to her stomach and hid her face underneath her arms.
It took Glynna half a minute to work out what Fiona was doing. She turned around and put her hands on Fiona’s bed, pulling herself up to her knees.
“Hey ...” she frowned. “Are you ...”
“I’m not crying,” Fiona whipped her arms around to show Glynna her grumpy but dry-eyed face. Then she groaned and threw her arms back over her head, and came a muffled voice; “I’m just really irritated!”
All Glynna could do was lean her elbows on Fiona’s bed and watch her sister’s turmoil. In her own mind, she was fighting herself. She could not press Fiona to tell their mother. Though she knew it was the best, smartest thing to do, she had no new argument for it - nothing that Fiona would listen to. Besides which, she could hardly guarantee there would be no campaign against Janus and Ezla.
________________
* This is actually because of the conversation with Magus about darkbolts, but they don’t realise that.