[There are no excuses for his mother. He knows it, but it wounds him terribly to voice that, lest he finally let go of any possibility of misunderstanding or change.
But there can't be change, can there? His mother is dead.
He swallows his breath.]
I still wonder what I could have done differently.
[Her hand slides up his wrist to take his, touch gentle, yet firm when she laces their fingers together.
His mother had a sad end after a sad life, but Jill will never forgive what she did to them all. But she keeps her anger at bay, heart aching for Clive. Her poor Clive.]
My love, there was nothing you could do. You were a child. It was her duty to love and nurture you. She did not do that.
The Phoenix. She was good to the Phoenix. That was the only way.
[Perhaps Ifrit would have earned him some kindness, but Jill thinks he would be just another weapon. Used as the Ironblood used her. Even Dion found himself and Bahamut used to hammer down threats--his only use, once Anabella arrived.]
There's no excuse for her. I can't imagine knowing you and not loving you.
[She draws his hand up so that she can kiss his knuckles. Surprisingly, she doesn't think about the damage they did to Dion. She's here, with Clive, wishing life had treated him better. He's always deserved better.]
It's not your fault.
[He says he knows, but she knows that isn't entirely true. One conversation won't change years of feeling like he did something wrong.]
If there was anything I would have you believe without question, it would be that.
[That he questions it immediately feels shameful to him, but it's difficult to not let his mind run through the labyrinth of ways he could have done things differently and found a way out for all of them. His mother was complicated, he wants to say. She had miseries of her own. She died terrified and alone and crippled by loss, and no doubt with her own regrets.
I always told myself I could endure her because I could have been made to scrub the kitchen floors or empty chamber pots instead of being raised alongside you and Joshua. It made her tolerable.
[She was never a mother to Jill. That made it easier. She rubs her thumb against Clive's hand, holding it closer to her chest.]
I only worry that she's influenced me in ways I can't see. When I get upset, or angry, and I think back on what I've said... I often ask myself if I could hear her saying it. Sometimes I think I can.
[His father was kind to her, warmer than she'd ever anticipated, but he was not her father. By law, she thought, were she lucky. But it never came to pass, and it was always more likely that she'd be married to some noble far from Rosaria.
She kisses his hand again. She's only ever wanted to be his bride.]
Of course. It's difficult not to, isn't it?
[As long as he doesn't see his mother in her, she's fine.]
Joshua would have wished her to come to the Hideaway with us.
[Joshua's would be softer towards their mother, because he essentially had an entirely different mother than Clive. Jill would have not wanted the woman in their safe haven, but she knows she wouldn't have argued. Dion would have likely never joined their fight.]
Forgive me for saying it, but I'm glad we never needed to discuss what to do with her.
She wouldn’t have wanted to come with us, but she didn’t have anywhere to go. [He feels atrocious, speaking about her that way, and worse yet: this is the first time he’s spoken about her death at all.] She would have been our hostage, in a sense. She wouldn’t have wanted to come save for Joshua’s company. Nothing we could have done would satisfy her, and none would want her there.
[Go with the family she destroyed, or die. Jill can even find reason to be angry at her for that. She could have chosen to crawl away somewhere, out of sight, but she made sure they saw it.]
[He wonders if Joshua thinks of her death, if it makes him feel small and helpless. Clive feels too numb to think much of it, too caked in violence and death and dismembered corpses. What’s one woman with a slit throat? How should that change if it’s his own mother?
He makes a sound, small and pained and contemplative.]
[He’s quiet, disappointed, but he knows it’s true.]
For a great man like my father to marry her, I always thought she must have been better than this at some point. She was nineteen when I was born, barely more than a girl… surely she was not born wrong.
[A thing that may be possible here, but it's just as likely they would encounter his mother. Finding Joshua is all she could ask for, and anything else feels like inviting trouble.]
But for now, there are some things we'll never know. All we know for certain is that you were a good son. So easily you could have grown resentful of Joshua, but you only loved him more. You remained kind.
[Resentful? Such a thing had never occurred to him, and hearing her say it has him stilling, his hand withdrawing from her chest the faintest distance.]
I could never be resentful of him. She could have done anything to me and I still would have endured it every day for him, and my father would have been proud of me. That would have been enough.
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[Her memories of her mother are distant and fade more and more as the years passed, but she remembers feeling loved and treated well when little.]
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[There are no excuses for his mother. He knows it, but it wounds him terribly to voice that, lest he finally let go of any possibility of misunderstanding or change.
But there can't be change, can there? His mother is dead.
He swallows his breath.]
I still wonder what I could have done differently.
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His mother had a sad end after a sad life, but Jill will never forgive what she did to them all. But she keeps her anger at bay, heart aching for Clive. Her poor Clive.]
My love, there was nothing you could do. You were a child. It was her duty to love and nurture you. She did not do that.
[And what wounds that has left.]
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[He squeezes her hand, breathing slowly against her shoulder as he presses his mouth there briefly.]
She was good to Joshua.
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[Perhaps Ifrit would have earned him some kindness, but Jill thinks he would be just another weapon. Used as the Ironblood used her. Even Dion found himself and Bahamut used to hammer down threats--his only use, once Anabella arrived.]
There's no excuse for her. I can't imagine knowing you and not loving you.
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I know, Jill. I know. She should have loved me.
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It's not your fault.
[He says he knows, but she knows that isn't entirely true. One conversation won't change years of feeling like he did something wrong.]
If there was anything I would have you believe without question, it would be that.
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He presses another kiss to her shoulder.]
Perhaps someday I'll believe it.
[And then, concerned:]
She was crueller to you than she was to me.
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[She was never a mother to Jill. That made it easier. She rubs her thumb against Clive's hand, holding it closer to her chest.]
I only worry that she's influenced me in ways I can't see. When I get upset, or angry, and I think back on what I've said... I often ask myself if I could hear her saying it. Sometimes I think I can.
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[Could he be closer any closer to her, even if he crawled into her skin? Hearing her talk about this is painful, and yet he wants to be this close.]
I've never thought you to be anything like her. But I think of her when...
[He doesn't really want to say it. It feels like a mistake to bring it up, but here it is.]
Well, any time I encounter women like her. Strict, opinionated, rude.
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She kisses his hand again. She's only ever wanted to be his bride.]
Of course. It's difficult not to, isn't it?
[As long as he doesn't see his mother in her, she's fine.]
Joshua would have wished her to come to the Hideaway with us.
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[They scare him, and he loathes to admit he scares at all. He sighs.]
I would have let him bring her.
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[Joshua's would be softer towards their mother, because he essentially had an entirely different mother than Clive. Jill would have not wanted the woman in their safe haven, but she knows she wouldn't have argued. Dion would have likely never joined their fight.]
Forgive me for saying it, but I'm glad we never needed to discuss what to do with her.
[She took care of that problem herself.]
I could never forgive her for what she did.
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[Go with the family she destroyed, or die. Jill can even find reason to be angry at her for that. She could have chosen to crawl away somewhere, out of sight, but she made sure they saw it.]
I'm sorry things weren't different.
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[He wonders if Joshua thinks of her death, if it makes him feel small and helpless. Clive feels too numb to think much of it, too caked in violence and death and dismembered corpses. What’s one woman with a slit throat? How should that change if it’s his own mother?
He makes a sound, small and pained and contemplative.]
Do you think in time she might have changed?
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I don't think so, no. She was too far gone. Perhaps if she had reconsidered her path when we were children...
[She sighs, knowing yes or no, Clive will find no peace in the answer.]
There was something deeply wrong with her.
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For a great man like my father to marry her, I always thought she must have been better than this at some point. She was nineteen when I was born, barely more than a girl… surely she was not born wrong.
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[A thing that may be possible here, but it's just as likely they would encounter his mother. Finding Joshua is all she could ask for, and anything else feels like inviting trouble.]
But for now, there are some things we'll never know. All we know for certain is that you were a good son. So easily you could have grown resentful of Joshua, but you only loved him more. You remained kind.
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I could never be resentful of him. She could have done anything to me and I still would have endured it every day for him, and my father would have been proud of me. That would have been enough.
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I know. It's one of the things I've most admired about you.
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[He breathes in deeply, as if he could draw in her goodness, and feel her love to him sink into his very narrow.]
May I stay with you tonight?
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[Spooning is nice, but she wants him in her arms.]
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Of course. Of course.
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She's glad he came. This is where he should be.]
Come here, my love.
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