Goodbye, Goodbye : pistachio y mead.
Title: Goodbye, Goodbye
Main Story: Cryptomancy
Flavors: Pistachio #11: an argument; Olde English Mead #5: The quality of mercy is not strain'd
Word Count: 691
Rating: PG-13 (reference to character death)
Summary: In which Octavian comes to get Chaill for dinner and Chaill is predictably not particularly happy with Octavian.
Notes: I need to make some new icons I think ;p
I was still sitting in the window staring down at the trees when Octavian found me.
“Chaill,” he called from the doorway. “You are being rude. You must come to supper, immediately. The Lady keeps asking about you, and… Chaill?”
He was the last person I wanted to see. “Go away.”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t leave. If I hadn’t been as distraught as I was, I might have gotten some small satisfaction in the thought that just maybe he felt a hint of the awkwardness that I did. I wanted him to be uncomfortable.
My eyes were still on the trees. I don’t know what I was hoping to see. Some movement, perhaps, but the tree tops were easily two hundred feet below me. Even if she had survived the fall, which was unlikely, I wouldn’t have been able to see her down there.
Octavian cleared his throat, most likely to break the silence, but it was enough to break my trance. I forced myself to my feet and turned to face him. “She’s gone,” I said, and no sign of comprehension crossed his face. I closed the space between us in a few angry paces. “Bug is dead, and it’s your fault.”
He frowned, though it was more an expression of confusion than legitimate concern. “And how is that my fault?” he asked. The annoyance in his voice turned my own grief to cold rage.
“You lied to me!” I spat. “You didn’t tell me what would happen. That I couldn’t come back for her.”
“That?” Octavian looked genuinely confused. “I didn’t lie.”
“Well, you didn’t tell the truth.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important.”
I have no idea what kept me from hauling off and hitting him. Exhaustion, I suppose. “You didn’t think it was important.” I repeated, incredulous.
“I would have figured it out!” he retorted, and I felt the slightest tinge of satisfaction in knowing I was getting under his skin. “But now I suppose it’s too late for that,” he added, and again my bile rose.
“Yes, Octavian, it’s too late. She just jumped out the window because I said I wouldn’t leave without her!”
Again, he looked vaguely confused. I wanted to scream. “It sounds like she did you a favor, then. Not all people can be so selfless.”
Then, I finally burst into childish tears. The sheer stupidity of Octavian’s statement managed to reveal a hard truth: Bug had done it for me, and no matter how much I wanted to blame Octavian for her death, it was my fault.
At least when I started to cry, I got the level of discomfort from Octavian that I wanted. For a moment, I thought he would turn and flee the room, but he didn’t. Instead, he decided to make things worse; that is to say, he decided to keep talking. “Well, it isn’t as if I came up here and threw her out of the window.”
“Would you please just shut up?” I gasped.
He shrugged again. “If that’s what you want.”
I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Yes, that is what I want. I want it even more than I want to throw you out of this window.”
“Well, I don’t see how that would solve anything.”
“It would make me feel better.”
The golden haired gentleman sniffed. “I don’t have to stand here and take such nasty abuse. I’m going to dinner.”
“Then go!” I shouted. For a very long moment, Octavian just stood there, blinking at me stupidly, and finally turned and disappeared through the door. I waited until the sound of his feet on the stairs died away, before I turned back to look at the place where Bug’s body had disappeared. I wanted to say something to the air, something I knew she would hear, but the words all shriveled and died before they made it to my tongue. Finally, I did the only thing I could do. I turned away from the window and left the aviary behind me, taking the steps two at a time on my way down to the dungeon.
Main Story: Cryptomancy
Flavors: Pistachio #11: an argument; Olde English Mead #5: The quality of mercy is not strain'd
Word Count: 691
Rating: PG-13 (reference to character death)
Summary: In which Octavian comes to get Chaill for dinner and Chaill is predictably not particularly happy with Octavian.
Notes: I need to make some new icons I think ;p
I was still sitting in the window staring down at the trees when Octavian found me.
“Chaill,” he called from the doorway. “You are being rude. You must come to supper, immediately. The Lady keeps asking about you, and… Chaill?”
He was the last person I wanted to see. “Go away.”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t leave. If I hadn’t been as distraught as I was, I might have gotten some small satisfaction in the thought that just maybe he felt a hint of the awkwardness that I did. I wanted him to be uncomfortable.
My eyes were still on the trees. I don’t know what I was hoping to see. Some movement, perhaps, but the tree tops were easily two hundred feet below me. Even if she had survived the fall, which was unlikely, I wouldn’t have been able to see her down there.
Octavian cleared his throat, most likely to break the silence, but it was enough to break my trance. I forced myself to my feet and turned to face him. “She’s gone,” I said, and no sign of comprehension crossed his face. I closed the space between us in a few angry paces. “Bug is dead, and it’s your fault.”
He frowned, though it was more an expression of confusion than legitimate concern. “And how is that my fault?” he asked. The annoyance in his voice turned my own grief to cold rage.
“You lied to me!” I spat. “You didn’t tell me what would happen. That I couldn’t come back for her.”
“That?” Octavian looked genuinely confused. “I didn’t lie.”
“Well, you didn’t tell the truth.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important.”
I have no idea what kept me from hauling off and hitting him. Exhaustion, I suppose. “You didn’t think it was important.” I repeated, incredulous.
“I would have figured it out!” he retorted, and I felt the slightest tinge of satisfaction in knowing I was getting under his skin. “But now I suppose it’s too late for that,” he added, and again my bile rose.
“Yes, Octavian, it’s too late. She just jumped out the window because I said I wouldn’t leave without her!”
Again, he looked vaguely confused. I wanted to scream. “It sounds like she did you a favor, then. Not all people can be so selfless.”
Then, I finally burst into childish tears. The sheer stupidity of Octavian’s statement managed to reveal a hard truth: Bug had done it for me, and no matter how much I wanted to blame Octavian for her death, it was my fault.
At least when I started to cry, I got the level of discomfort from Octavian that I wanted. For a moment, I thought he would turn and flee the room, but he didn’t. Instead, he decided to make things worse; that is to say, he decided to keep talking. “Well, it isn’t as if I came up here and threw her out of the window.”
“Would you please just shut up?” I gasped.
He shrugged again. “If that’s what you want.”
I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Yes, that is what I want. I want it even more than I want to throw you out of this window.”
“Well, I don’t see how that would solve anything.”
“It would make me feel better.”
The golden haired gentleman sniffed. “I don’t have to stand here and take such nasty abuse. I’m going to dinner.”
“Then go!” I shouted. For a very long moment, Octavian just stood there, blinking at me stupidly, and finally turned and disappeared through the door. I waited until the sound of his feet on the stairs died away, before I turned back to look at the place where Bug’s body had disappeared. I wanted to say something to the air, something I knew she would hear, but the words all shriveled and died before they made it to my tongue. Finally, I did the only thing I could do. I turned away from the window and left the aviary behind me, taking the steps two at a time on my way down to the dungeon.