Title: Prism
Rating: T Summary: Altam wants nothing more than to love unconditionally
Pairing: Altam/Milletian
Author’s Notes:...is a sad world out there
Not tonight.
Disappointment welled up in Altam's chest and pooled out to his limbs, head, entire being. He slumped in his chair and glowered at the clock on his desk. 10:13 pm, the clock mockingly blinked back at him.
Elodie had not promised she would visit. In fact, she had already visited him a few days ago, but Altam never thought that was enough. At least she avoided all forms of sugar coated promises, especially in his case. That was something Altam could believe in. But he hoped, desperately craved Elodie's attention when he was the most vulnerable working on paperwork he didn't have the slightest inkling about how to finish.
Paperwork was so mundane compared to everything else, but the implications of comfort were far more powerful.
At this rate, Elodie would slink in after midnight and leave a few comments/corrections and take off without a word. It happened sometimes when she had dropped into another pit of despair she couldn't pull herself back out of, the same hole that threatened to swallow them all whole.
Altam flipped the feather pen between his fingers. He bit his lip, eyes blurry. Staring at the same textbook questions for an hour never had good results, but he pushed himself, only motivated by the thought Elodie would see his potential.
~
Eagerly, Altam propped his elbows on the wooden table. He had worked extra on his duties. Days early! Falling behind in his responsibilities had been a problem for him these past few months ever since he became commander, but now he was in a groove that couldn't be beat. Elodie had looked a little less stressed lately because of his efforts—even cracked the semblance of a smile at his enthusiasm—when he pushed ahead of the game. Altam was in loath to contribute to her sadness. Giving her a distraction was all he could do.
Elodie non committedly traced a hand on the back of her neck. She silently mouthed answers to herself as she thought and took everything into account. He drank in the way those violet eyes scanned the pages, the quirk of her pink lips while she calculated something in her head.
Elodie nodded. Altam breathed a sigh of relief.
"You are getting very good at these." She lowered the papers and scratched a few red lines between the string of letters and numbers on the page.
Altam perked up. He immediately wiped off the infectious grin that threatened to cross his face, basking in the small piece of praise nonetheless. "Daaaw! You're just saying that."
Surely Elodie had been a model student back in her days, right? Altam only imagined such a scenario. He didn't know much about those times still, but he didn't doubt Elodie had been smart..
"No, I mean it." Expression darkening, Elodie instantly distanced herself from the bright, sunny midday. It was the tidings of self-doubt and anger that normally stewed in her composure, her heart, every time Altam brought up a topic Elodie could never let go of. Cold dread swept through Altam seconds before her eye twitched—that stark and terrible realization he had made her remember the faint echo of ancient memories.
"Or, I could be wrong", she said, scanning the papers again for any possible errors she had made.
Altam wanted to shout at the top of his lungs that Elodie was not wrong. She painstakingly read over his notes, the textbooks, anything she could find that would refresh the information in her long gap in education. Even a month before then, Pihne had let slip that Elodie had asked her for tips, methods, anything that could assist him. Elodie had never brought it up with him at all.
He never wanted Elodie to say that about herself. She tried harder than anybody, including himself.
Altam latched onto Elodie's wrist. She glanced at his hand, blinking uncomprehending, slightly taken aback at the burn of green certainty and subdued fury in Altam's eyes.
"Nothing about you is worthless or wrong, Elodie. If you're wrong, I have no reason to be right."
~
Altam gingerly brushed the back of his hand where he had touched Elodie that time. He idly circled the spot with the tip of his finger. Even now, the faint spark of her warmth and his own unwavering revolve lingered.
Such a memory was merely one instance Altam remembered Elodie losing track of herself while helping him. It wasn't that rare, either, and there were a handful more times.
All Altam wanted was one thing.
Elodie emphasized that she noticed an innate quality about Altam that he, quite frankly, didn't see. To him, Elodie was like a splendid prism of light which reflected and inverted warmth, love, and compassion. Kindness was stored in her heart like a radiating star galaxies away that struggled to make its own presence known to their world. And Altam didn't know how to always show those feelings for anyone, even when Elodie smiled sunnily at him and he wanted to make her happy and not worry about him.
Nonetheless, Altam never wanted to look away from such magnificent beauty. Elodie was everything he not only desired but also aspired to be, the magnet he wanted to cling onto and never, never in a million years, let go of. Elodie simply touching his hand while he wrote out his paperwork left Altam awestruck and frozen in his tracks. In those moments, he was unable to speak. He only prayed she would see that he was trying. That he was doing his best.
Why didn't she love herself the way Altam loved her?
But Elodie disliked it when he brought it up to her directly, and he would always look away, guilty and downtrodden.
Shaking his head, Altam took another stab at his paperwork. The sentences turned into a long string of nonsensical letters, stretching out to infinity on his paper until the words ran off the paper, smudging the post-it notes that he had stashed under his textbook.
He rubbed at his eyes and yawned. Definitely, this was all he should manage. Llywelyn had told him not to overdo it, and the day had been rather tiresome. Being subjected to Avelin’s scolding made it worse, of course, but being commander was draining enough. And once again he pictured Elodie… Elodie having dark lines etched under her eyes. Elodie, aloof and worn out, but making time for Altam anyway.
A few weeks ago, Elodie had made the ultimate decision; she had resigned as captain of the Baltane unit. It was a decision that of course, impacted everyone, especially tot the squires. He, Avelin, Pihne, and Casywn understood perfectly well her reasons for doing so, but most of the squires didn’t take it too well. Some expressed their sadness over losing the captain they had grown so attached to for the past year while the others silently fumed and retreated away.
Altam didn't know all the details himself. Duties and the toll of work had taken over his life so he imagined it was probably the same for her and why Elodie had chosen to resign. Some days, Altam couldn't even get out of bed. The thought of her face, awkwardly smiling or grieving, sent a jolt of electricity down his spine and relieved his lethargy. And yet, Altam admired that about Elodie. Her perseverance to walk forward through a trail of blood and duty to protect Erinn. Each step to that goal had chipped away at her soul, the wounds never healing but standing tall and strong.
Altam grit his teeth and closed his eyes. All that effort wasted because of a world so fraught with cruelty…
Was Elodie tired yet? Was she working overtime again?
Altam raised his fist and hammered down on the desk. Everything shook. With a loud twack, the textbook on his desk slipped off and crashed against the floor. It was enough to wake him up out of his semi-happy daydream and begrudgingly reach for it. When he finally looked back up, he noticed the sheaf of post-it notes that had been under the textbook.
Elodie will want to know I'm struggling with this…
The realization comforted him. Warmth burned his cheeks and bubbled up in the core of his stomach like leaves dancing in the wind. As long as he thought of things like that, he would be okay. He envisioned Elodie's patient and winsome gaze holding his. Altam would look forward to the next day knowing that he may see that soon.
If Elodie found solace in helping him, that was enough. Even if it was brief… Altam wanted to be capable of that. Altam didn't need anything else in his life if she would just entrust her smile to him and ask for nothing else.
Altam slid the pad of yellow post-it notes out. Shifting the pen, he marked the page number. Page 342…page number 388, page number 436...
Why did she have to endure so much and receive so little in return? He scribbled on the post-it, pressing the pen so hard the tip snapped off from the pressure, tearing and blotting the sheet at the same time. Altam stared at it and shook his head. White dots danced in front of his eyes.
Why? Altam asked himself, distraught. Why does she have to suffer like this? Why can't she see that she's a good person? Why doesn't she feel like that, why doesn't she see that she sacrificed so much. And her scar….her scar….
The image of Elodie's split open chest floated mockingly in front of his mind's eye. Hurriedly, he pushed it out of the way for safekeeping. That was too much pain right now.
Altam glared at the word on the paper, tempted to throw the pen across the room. He usually didn't get as angry as he did before his decision. Who could blame him?
Now that he started, though, he didn't know how to stop the incoming anger and frustration. He scribbled on the page even harder with the broken end of the pen and frowned at the smudge marks left behind.
Altam did a double take at the words on the post-it. He could barely read them—the scribbles blended into each other now—but the message was perfectly clear.
This was a message that was easy for Elodie to read. She couldn't ignore them and give him cryptic looks when she read it, she wouldn't have to avoid the issue at hand.. Smirking a little bit, Altam peeled off more post-it notes. Then, after arranging his thoughts, he wrote everything. He dotted and crossed each line. He simply hoped.
~
Elodie heaved a sigh. She flopped down on the bed, craning her head towards the ceiling. The ends of her nightgown flared out at her sides and sweat dotted her forehead. Moonlight poured through the window blinds in the Alban Knight’s personal quarters.
She was tired, yes. Her last job had taken an extra few days, but she had never forgotten to come back and help Altam. Despite that she hardly deserved Altam's adoring puppy dog eyes aimed at her, she sort of did not mind it.
Elodie still wanted him to know he was important to her.
Even with the hospitality the Alban Knights showed her, she never liked to be here among them. Still, it was better this way than to bring Altam to her home where she would have to risk allowing a knight into her grounds. Even if that knight was Altam who would first throw himself headfirst into a volcano before considering the thought of harming her.
Doing something for Altam was the one constant bright spot in her life that helped her trudge on. Helping him was a breath of fresh air no matter how exponentially dead-tired she was. She couldn't be a pillar of knowledge, but Elodie never minded brushing up on old school materials.
Papers rustled against her thigh. She seized up for a minute, alert, then realized what it was. Elodie frowned and placed a gentle hand on the mismatch of papers and thick textbooks stashed there. Altam said he didn't mind if he would leave it in his own room and Elodie walked in to get it, but Elodie was opposed to that. She didn't want to wake him up no matter how Altam's face lit up like the moon on the darkest of nights in delight after he realized Elodie was there and jumped out of bed to greet her.
Actually, it was kind of strange. Altam normally tried to join her in her room for a sleepover. Why didn't he do it tonight?
Even she was exhausted this late (too much searching, too much talking to people, too much dodging questions). It didn't matter. She mustered up the strength and reached for the top paper in the pile. A loose piece of paper fluttered against the tips of her claws. She blinked, bemused.
“I'm sorry this paperwork isn't done.”
Elodie couldn't help it. She laughed a little, although it was a muffled sound, amused and bitter and sad at once.
When was his paperwork ever fully done? Altam usually waited to do a good chunk of it with her. He may be a ditz with everything happening in their lives, but he most certainly wasn't stupid or lazy. Altam was ten times smarter than Elodie could ever hope to be. She brushed it off, peeling the note off and flicking it to the side. She scanned the page and noticed that small eraser indents lined up the page. Based on the work, she could tell Altam had pulled out all the stops on this.
And then, she opened the informant textbook.
Post-it notes were on every page. Elodie was lost after she read one of them out of the corner of her eye—Altam had never left so many notes before—and a stone sunk to the bottom of her stomach.
“Thank you for being here with me.”
It was a kind and considerate message. And yet Elodie burned from her fingertips to the bottom of her stomach. Her entire body seized up with immense guilt.
Numbness swelled in her heart. Full of wonderment she stared at the words, confused but fixated. Of course he would put that. Altam always said it to her on a weekly basis. Perhaps he was just feeling lonelier than usual. Elodie couldn't do much more than what she was doing, but if she kept going, she could probably forget about it. Tentatively, Elodie flipped the page and swore she heard another rustle of paper—
“You don't feel it, but I do cherish you.”
The next one covered a diagram.
“You are special.”
Elodie scanned the book and laid it on the comforter. She breathed as steady as possible, arms falling to her sides.
For all her life, she had been told she was special. But she wasn't. Every person in Erinn had a purpose beyond her own scope, a life that had not been tarnished in the kind of bloodshed she had let allow to trick and deceive her.
Elodie rubbed her temples. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribcage like the beat of a drum at a lively festival. Altam should not think these things about her. None of this would workout. But it didn't change the fact that she wanted Altam to think about whatever he wanted if it gave him enough strength to not give up hope. Morbidly curious, she continued on to the next closest textbook.
History. Should be a safe subject...
The first note covered a sprawling black and white picture of an empty countryside.
“Thinking about you makes me happy for the whole day.”
Memories of Altam clinging to her and hugging her flooded to the forefront of her thoughts. He did look happier after she left him, sometimes like he was experiencing a wonderful dream of sorts…
Elodie dully flipped through more pages. Some pages were bare while others had post-it notes attached. The colors changed from yellow to blue, pink, or red, giving Elodie evidence he must have run out of yellow.
“When you leave, I miss you.”
Elodie examined the room around her. She had no attachment to this place. Nothing about it was hers. The bed was a little dusty, the rest of the room spotless. She didn't nor would miss this place—she didn't want to be here, she didn't want to be anywhere. Why would anyone miss her?
Slumping back against the covers and pillows, Elodie groaned. Moving was suddenly too draining and every droplet of energy in her bones zapped away. She felt boneless and nerveless and nothing even hurt. The images of Altam's messages swam in her conscious, but she didn't know how to process so many things at once that were simply positive about her and her alone.
Altam didn't know how to give up.
In her confusion, Elodie hardly slept.
~
The post-it notes persisted. For two weeks she never mentioned them, and Altam never did in either. On the contrary, he would always come with something new and creative to say in his post-its. Elodie secretly wondered how Altam came up with more material for his post-it notes than his own impending speeches.
Elodie tried to leave them in the books instead of taking them out. But when she did this, Altam never took them out to make his point clear, all the notes clogging up the pages. She solemnly decided she may as well do it herself after all. She pried the notes out, dropping them in a pile on the desk. If Altam ever came into her room and noticed the ever growing mountain of post-its, he never disturbed the pile. Elodie never bothered to hide them.
One day, the pile overgrew its welcome. Now, she was sure there were enough notes to make a complete book.
Elodie laid the post-it notes on the bed and arranged them. She struggled to find places for them; she tried to find patterns in what Altam said in each of the notes and how he said it. Many times, Altam emphasized how much he missed or liked talking to her or, more recently, how beautiful she was. How and when had Altam gotten that bold? Which sentence went first? Then she thought, did they actually go in order? No, she wouldn't entertain that possibility.
Regardless, ever since that first night, his words had haunted her. She still didn't deserve anything like that. But something had changed. Elodie, although she refused to believe she had attachment to this place, didn't mind coming here as much. The mountain of post-its was comforting to look at in the middle of the night.
Elodie guessed she didn't mind so much anymore….
By the time she ceased trying to organize and stared at the pile instead, she saw something at the corner of her eye. Her chest constricted upon seeing another note she hadn't seen taped to the bed's headboard. Strange, she hadn't noticed that one before. She squinted in the moonlight to read it.
“Can I care about you enough for the both of us?”
No, she didn't feel like living, or even pretending to trudge through the trials of a life she never would find enjoyment in again. This world only had the shade of monotone grey to her. It would be selfish to ask someone to care about her when she couldn't give the same amount of love back.
Elodie stared so long at the note that she barely flinched as the bedroom's door creaked open. A darkened form tiptoed towards her. The bed dipped under the other’s weight, and wrapped strong arms around her.
"You deserve someone who will love you forever, Elodie," Altam said quietly. He didn't ask for anything besides Elodie's company, holding on tight. "I love you, you know."
The heroinei closed her eyes and guessed she had things to learn from him as well. Accepting anything was impossible for her in words. No, Elodie did not want to reject Altam's confessions, because she had enjoyed being told she was something again—real, a thing that could change and impact others. Perhaps she could be the black moon that transformed and become bright whole again. No matter how long that would take.
Sighing, Elodie leaned back into Altam's chest and didn't speak. For today, she may as well leave it in his hands.
~
Fin