vor | Eleventh Cream Cake: [Action]

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[Very early in the morning, Gregor can be found in the back yard of house 60, carefully snipping a bit of black hair and setting it into a brazier he found for specifically this purpose. He adds a carefully constructed hatchwork of rosewood dowels. Two sprays of a perfume he found that smells a little like he remembers her wearing. Lastly, a white winter flower, waxy and perfect and elegant.

Twenty-one years ago on this day, Princess Kareen Vorbarra was killed.

The offering in the brazier burns quickly, thanks to the perfume, and with little smoke until the delicate white flower atop the pile withers and blackens.]

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[He watches the subtleties of her reaction, then glances back toward the brazier.] It was a long time ago.

That doesn't matter. [A lesson Amelia's had the opportunity to learn ten times over. Not even ending things with Gasback made the pain lessen the last time.]

[A long pause.] It does matter. But I'm not sure how. I was just five, so I don't have that many memories of her. I haven't decided if that's for the better or not.

[He's pretty sure it's not. He feels robbed.]

[Amelia shakes her head, but she won't argue it. If Gregor thinks it makes some sort of difference, if it's easier on him? She won't take that away.]

Can't see how it would be. I was ten, and that wasn't nearly enough time.

[Something in his shoulders eases, and he looks at her thoughtfully. More receptive.]

I have no memory of my father. Some memories are better than none, I suppose. [Unless you're talking about Prince Serg.] But when it's been this long, I wonder how many of my so-called memories are real. That's almost worse. Not just being... [He makes a gesture] ...robbed of the real memories, but being lied to by your own mind. Dreams and old childhood fantasies masquerading as memories.

Edited Date: 2012-12-04 12:00 am (UTC)

Depends on what your father's like.

[Amelia's got memories of hers, but mostly from rumors and newspaper clippings. She doesn't regret that he there in person when she grew up. The effect he had by reputation was bad enough.

But Amelia's memories of her mother are clear, and she has no doubt that they're real. She shakes her head slowly, trying to think of how she'd feel if she started to doubt.]

Don't question it. What you've got is it, and it's precious.

[He nods, but her first words strike him rather uncomfortably. It takes a few seconds, but maybe someone like Amelia won't mind if he does just a little prying himself.]

What was your father like?

He's a bastard. [Amelia's actually pretty quick to answer; she's made no secret of how she feels about her father. What she normally doesn't tell is who he is in relation to her, but that's already out in the open this time.] He's the most infamous robber on my planet. He stole whatever he wanted to from people, and didn't care at all how they suffered because of it. Or who he killed.

[He swallows. He hasn't spoken with anyone about this.] Mine was...special.

[Even Amelia doesn't miss his hesitation, and it makes her watch her tone. She doesn't come across as gentle very often, but in this situation, she tries.] Special how?

It...was lucky that he died before he could inherit the Imperium.

[That's all he really wants to say about that. He presses his lips together.]

[Amelia nodded slowly, getting the message and for once, not pushing the issue.]

Better to remember your mom anyway. She's the one that was with you.

[He nods.] She was murdered. She attacked the man who tried to kill me.

She died to save you. That tells you a lot of what you need to know right there.

Edited Date: 2012-12-16 08:00 pm (UTC)

She didn't die to save me. [This is getting a little uncomfortable.] I don't know what she died for. I wasn't even there.

[Amelia's confused for a moment, until she thinks back and realizes that no, Gregor never actually said what she'd assumed. But he is right--it's definitely getting uncomfortable.]

It's good you weren't. That's a memory you don't need. [At least she's sure of that much. Amelia watched her mother waste away; she wouldn't wish that on anyone.]

Maybe if you write things out, it'll help you remember.