[His brows knit further together for a moment before he lowers his glass, echoing her softly.]
Taken advantage of... perhaps. I never saw it that way, then. I might now.
[Hindsight often brought with it great clarity.
Ah, but Amelia asks all the right questions, and he shakes his head.]
Stubbornness, I suppose. Like yourself, Dr. Manx is a new arrival here— shipped in fresh from Baldur's Gate to fill a vacancy at the start of the term. Before then, it had been some time since we'd crossed paths. Two years, perhaps? [It felt like an eternity, when he remembers how he had spent the first several months of that stretch, especially.] I've been here for years, working hard to build my career— I'm up for tenure in the next couple of years, for goodness' sake. I suppose I don't feel I should have to leave.
[Not when she's come to his territory. It wouldn't be fair. He exhales, giving Amelia a wry smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]
Of course, she doesn't think there should be any bad blood between us. She thinks I'm being unreasonable, I expect. That messy business with the article discrediting my work, the unreasonable class load I've been pushed to take— I'm certain it's all with the intent of getting a rise out of me.
[Tenure is no small matter. Of all of their colleagues at Waterdeep University, Gale is more than suitable for it. Amelia can't imagine him in any other role. Dr. Manx's presence when he's in a position to earn it doesn't bode well to her.]
... As an unreasonable woman myself, I think I have grounds to say that she's one herself.
[Her hand pulls her glass to her lips before continuing.]
Or I should say, unreasonably vindictive.
May I ask what ended your relationship to begin with?
I can't say I disagree with you on that point. That first night you and I met— I had just learned about her taking the position a few hours before.
[He laughs softly, a hollow sound before he takes another long drink from his glass. Undoubtedly, that explains a fair bit about the state she'd found him in that night, out drinking alone, restless, grateful for the pleasant distraction.
As for the rest— even if she hadn't asked him, he'd intended to tell her. Until now, he had really only spoken about this at length with Tara. His own mother didn't know all the details; largely because it had been more than just painful, but it had been humiliating. Even now, he looks back and sees wasted years and a man who had been so certain of himself that he'd been unable to see what was right in front of him.
He lowers his glass again, his expression somber as the heavy bottom of the glass softly clicks against the bar.]
We were together a long while— well over five years, and had known one another even longer. I couldn't imagine there was anything I wouldn't have done for her. The vindictive woman she is now is, in many ways, entirely foreign to me. I thought we were happy, that we were both precisely where we wanted to be, and I was so sure that we wanted the same things. I asked her to marry me.
[He takes in a sharp breath. Another drink, and he averts his gaze from her again, unable to look Amelia in the eye for this next part.]
That turned out to be a problem when I learned she was already married— had been for years, even before we had met. I found out rather abruptly when she brought her husband to a benefit, after years of keeping him a secret— from me, from everyone. I think... the fact that he had apparently known about me all along made it worse, somehow. More humiliating. He didn't even consider me a threat to him.
[He very, very quickly downs the rest of his drink all in one go.]
And even then, she tried to convince me that I should be happy to continue things as they had been, that nothing had changed, and I was furious for having been lied to and made a fool of. I can't say I cared for being made party to adultery, either.
[If she had been wondering about how it could get even worse, Gale's revelation cinches it. It was much worse than Amelia could initially surmise. There's a sharp intake of breath and then she rubs her forehead from the sheer secondhand pain that she felt from the information.]
Gale... Gale, that's just...
[Never mind her own role post-relationship; she's taken in by the enormity and immorality of it all. What on earth was going through Dr. Manx's mind? It's completely alien to Amelia, who, for all her faults, recognized that Gale's qualities as a scholar, as a teacher, as a person of integrity were genuine. He hadn't spoken of his ex-lover because what they had meant that much. Spurned as he was, it hadn't gotten in the way of how they became friends after their own stumbling beginnings.
She swerves in her seat, her head shaking vigorously.]
You did not deserve that. What the hell was sheโ what is she even thinking now?
[Her voice has gained a tight, frustrated edge. She was angry on his behalf. It wasn't fair; Amelia's own part during their first encounter made her feel even more agitated, having wanted to use her time with him for purely selfish reasons though she had no way or reason to want to know what had ailed him.]
Did she expect you to just... Continue with the affair? Didn't any of your feelings matter to her?
[He can't help but to feel validated as the edge of anger makes its way into Amelia's voice. He had never doubted that he'd had every right to be as angry as he was, to feel as betrayed as he did, but that he had never allowed himself to speak of it meant he'd had a lot of time to have countless unproductive conversations with himself where he'd often wondered what he could have done differently, how he might have helped himself see the truth sooner.
His glass empty, he rakes his fingers through his hair, a faint twitch pulling at the corner of his mouth as he casts an appreciative glance at Amelia.
It's nice to feel heard, even if it's been over for ages now.]
I don't know that I'll ever understand her reasoning, even if she thought to explain it to me.
[It's complicated, he knows; all of it is made so much worse by the fact that he knows what they had shared had been real, as much as it could have been when Ariel had, apparently, not been willing to let it become a facet of her 'real' life. They'd spent so much time together that she had, more or less, taken a five year vacation from her marriage, and he had never been the wiser.
Nothing has ever made him feel quite so stupid as learning that particular truth had.]
I think it's safe to say that my feelings didn't matter much at all. It's been— tense since she came back here, to say the least. I'll admit, there was a long stretch after all of that where I was... [He gives her another wry little smile.] Let's just say I doubt you would recognize me, if you had the chance to meet that Gale today. It was much easier to put all of this behind me when she wasn't here, however.
[The damage done during that whole affair still ran deep. How had he been so blind? What was more— why hadn't he been enough? Why hadn't she loved him enough to be honest with him, to tell the truth and then to choose him if she had been so unhappy with her marriage?
Why hadn't he been good enough? What could he have done differently?
He hates that he still asks those questions, still doubts himself. It hadn't been his fault. Logically, he knows that, and given the chance to go back to how things had been before he'd known the truth— he wouldn't. Some things, however, defied logic.]
[And what now? It's too easy to jump to conclusions and declare conspiracy, but seeing as how Gale and Dr. Ariel Manx were within the same field and had research that was inextricably a part of them both, there was a foreboding meaning in her continuing presence in his life.
Amelia purses her lips, hiding the grit in her teeth. Then she takes a deep breath and takes a large chug of her whiskey sour.]
Whatever you were like back then what all of this proves, I think, is that you are a much, much better person than me. If I were in your position, I would have burned everything to the ground. I don't know how, but I would.
[Again, don't tempt the wrath of Amelia Eva Steinbeck.]
Today, you're doing good work, Gale. You have your hands full, but I don't see it dampening your passion with your research. You're dividing your attention to your graduate group and your undergraduate courses and I have not heard anyone suffering for it.
Dr. Manx will exist within your gravity, but for better or for worse, you've made the load she's thrust upon you your own. She can't take that from you anymore.
[He chuckles softly; there's a hollow, mirthless quality to it as he looks down to his glass and is reminded that it is, unfortunately, empty. Probably for the best— though it says a great deal that talking about Ariel always drives him to want to drink. He really ought to find a better way of dealing with all that resentment.]
Believe me, I was tempted. Instead, I took some time off— disappeared from view, for awhile. My own mother didn't see much of me while I sorted things out. If not for Tara, I might have done far worse than sulk for a few months.
[Thankfully, Tara had helped him through the worst of it, kept him from letting himself become mired deep within his own misery for too long, from self-destructing yet further.
Now, in the presence, Amelia's reassurance reaches him. It is, somehow, just the thing he needs to hear, and he musters another small smile, this one more genuine than the last, his appreciation for her worn quite plainly on his face.]
Thank you for reminding me of what's important. I— don't know if I believe that I'm managing quite as well as you say, but if that's what you see, then I can only be as grateful as I am flattered. For all that she was involved in foundation of my career, I've earned my place here on my own, without anyone else's aid or influence. I don't intend to let her or anyone else undermine what I've done here— what I hope to continue to do.
[There's nothing else to add, she thinks. From the sound of it, he really was fortunate for Dr. Prescott's interventions, whenever it may have happened. As for Amelia, herself?
... Well, she didn't make anything worse. They were friends now and maybe she's a better friend than she gave herself credit for.]
For what it's worth Gale, I'll be on your side for this, just like how you were on my side today against Dr. Raphael. I know there's little I can do specifically, but if anything happens in the future... I'll be there.
That means a great deal, I assure you. I appreciate it more than I can possibly say.
[Some of the tension that had crept into his neck and shoulders eases from him.]
It was— good to say it all out loud, I think. I haven't, really, not before now.
[Even much of what Tara knew was because she had seen it all unfold, and she had been almost as outraged as Gale was, which made a great deal of sense when one considered just how protective she was of him, the familial nature of their friendship being what it was.
His friendship with Amelia was decidedly different. It was always going to be, given how it started out, but...
Even now, he feels the fluttering urge to reach out and let his fingers curl against her hand on the bar.
He resists.]
Likewise, you know. It wasn't just for today, or only when it's convenient. Should there be any further developments, any trouble... I'll be right behind you. Anyone who would seek to turn your passion for your work against you— that, I cannot abide. You're precisely the sort of person these students need.
[He looks back to his glass.]
One drink wasn't nearly enough for revisiting all of that. I'll have to open a bottle when I get home.
I'd try to convince you to join me, but given that it's your company that matters more than the beverage...
[He lets out a breathless little chuckle, shaking his head before he raises a hand with two fingers lifted to signal the bartender, then gestures to his glass.]
I'll not look a gift horse in the mouth, even if you don't owe me for anything. ... thank you.
[The bartender goes to refill Gale's glass and takes Amelia's order for a cola over ice. Amelia leans her head on her hand and shrugs.]
What are friends for?
[When her cola is served, she swirls its contents around.]
The day is almost coming to an end and we'll both still be troubled academics. Not a bad outcome after everything that's happened to us, don't you agree?
Oh, I certainly do. The day could have ended far worse.
[He inadvertently mirrors her, leaning against the bar to rest his chin in his hand, nodding his thanks to the bartender when his drink comes. He takes his glass and holds it up to toast when Amelia's soda is served, his smile pulling to one side.]
To academia, and the drama that seems to be inherent within. The things we suffer for our passions, hm?
[Because at the end of the day, there's no denying that they are both devoted to what they do, that this is a calling for the both of them— not simply a job.]
If I must be a troubled academic, at least I can do so with a friend.
[If things had been different between them, maybe the atmosphere would be lighter instead of being the weighted optimism they have now.
If things had been different, perhaps Amelia would be braver and more confident in reaching out, unafraid of the possible damage her faults could cause to him.
If things had been different, she'd have already forgiven herself, much like how she's indirectly telling Gale to do for himself.
But they're both here in the present moment, imperfect and injured survivors of their own flaws. That should be enough for now.]
Try not to fall asleep when you get more drink in you. This is the part where we get to talk smack about other students and our colleagues.
[And for the first time that day, she smiles. It's a small, but genuine one and in the glow of the bar's lighting, she doesn't look like a woman who was harsh on herself and others.]
[It's not the first time he's seen her smile, though they are certainly rare, he's noticed— but just like every other time he's had occasion to see it, he feels as though the room itself is brighter for it. For him, a smile was hardly out of place, but for someone who was so severe, so focused on being taken seriously, it meant that much more. It feels earned, somehow, and he cannot help but smile back, feeling significantly lighter than he might have expected, given all that he had shared.]
Oh, I wouldn't miss that opportunity for the world. There's always plenty of gossip to go around, and we've both kept busy enough that we're due to catch up. Besides, it's only two.
[Two strong drinks after a challenging day, but he doesn't allow himself to remind her of what he'd still been capable of after a few more— he chides himself for even thinking of it.
In another world, maybe, things would have gone differently. He would have still had the confidence of his younger self, the assuredness to say how he really felt about the situation rather than defer to her judgement, but he had, over time, almost convinced himself that this was better. Surely, their friendship held greater value.]
Now— I haven't overheard enough to be certain, but I think there's some sort of betting pool among some of the teachers in the lounge. I swear I overheard Professor Blurg mentioning odds.
Every now and then. Harmless fun, usually, as far as I can tell. As for this one— when I asked him about it, he opted to play the fool.
[Gale arches a brow. Clearly, he wasn't buying that.
He takes a sip of his drink, giving her a pointed look.]
Blurg has never been a gifted liar, but whatever it is, he's intent on being tight-lipped. I'll admit, I normally don't pay these things much mind, but his reaction alone has me intrigued.
[Gale himself practically lights up at the opportunity to speak about his students; he's been fortunate enough to have spent the last two years with a group that was full of students who were eager to put in the work it took to go the distance in their chosen field. Most students who made it to that point were dedicated by default, but he has a few this year that he feels are especially bright.]
Ah, that would have to be Rolan! I suppose I might be biased, but he reminds me a great deal of myself when I was younger— complete with a touch of arrogance that needs some gentle humbling.
[He gives a knowing, almost rueful smile, though that brightness of his doesn't dim.]
It's not an unearned confidence, but I think it will serve him better to have someone who recognizes it for what it is and offer guidance, rather than to feed it or let it go unchecked. He's bright— they all are— and I've no doubt he'll do something great, but there may be a bit of stumbling on the way.
[Well, he'd set himself up for that question coming his way eventually, hadn't he?
He gives Amelia an impish look over the rim of his glass before taking a drink, then lowering it so that he can lean forward slightly, as though it's of great import that his answer is for her ears alone.]
Oh, almost immediately, I've no doubt. I was quite insufferable in my youth.
[An entirely different sort of unrecognizable than the broken shell he had been two years earlier.]
Ambitious beyond words and eager to prove my worth at any cost, in addition to being entirely unafraid to boast of my own virtues. I was, perhaps, somewhat more tolerable by the time I was working on my masters' degree, but I don't think you would have had the patience. Remarkably, I was quite popular at school, but I think that would have made you like me all the less.
[He doubts she has ever been the sort to think much of the opinion of the crowd.]
I'd like to believe I've been suitably humbled by now.
[The mischief in his eyes is... Endearing. She would never say that aloud, lest it'd get to his head, but from everything she's learned about Gale, he's learned many hard lessons and has gained the gift of self-awareness.
She likes how he tells her all this about himself, like a small little secret. It's nice. All of this is.
Amelia smiles into her glass.]
I wouldn't have known you to be boastful if you hadn't told me.
[As for herself...]
Back then, I don't think I liked many people. Or rather, I didn't know how to like people. I was rather well-read as I was growing up so I tended to be a contemptuous know-it-all in my own way.
[He likes that she can admit that about herself— the fact that she's willing to makes him feel she must trust him, given how private she has been about most things. It's a more meaningful offering than it would appear on the surface, to some.]
We've always had that in common, it seems— a great love of books.
[That, he doubts will ever change for either of them.]
Otherwise, we've both come quite a long way. You seem to like at least some people well enough now, for which I am infinitely grateful. Imagine if we had met in our youth— academic rivals, perhaps?
[She used books to block out other people, much to her parent's chagrin and concern. But he wasn't wrong about her genuine passion for the written word which culminated in her appointment as a professor at their very university.
There's a lot that Amelia still prefers to keep to herself, but talking with Gale was easy, enjoyable... Just like that first night.
Better not stray there.]
Hypothetically, I would be very argumentative. Determined about being right about everything. So yes, I don't think you're far off.
[It often feels easy with Amelia, when he doesn't give himself leave to overthink things. He laughs warmly at her hypothetical agreement, and the next pull from his glass goes down just a bit easier as he finds himself more engaged with the present than the past— something he's beginning to feel with surprising regularity, lately.]
Oh, no doubt we would have been at odds, because it would have been anathema to me to allow anyone else to be in the right.
[An insufferable know-it-all to the end.]
In our best interests, I think, that we waited until now to cross paths.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
recluserose) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sunfloras2024-01-21 09:17 pm
no subject
Taken advantage of... perhaps. I never saw it that way, then. I might now.
[Hindsight often brought with it great clarity.
Ah, but Amelia asks all the right questions, and he shakes his head.]
Stubbornness, I suppose. Like yourself, Dr. Manx is a new arrival here— shipped in fresh from Baldur's Gate to fill a vacancy at the start of the term. Before then, it had been some time since we'd crossed paths. Two years, perhaps? [It felt like an eternity, when he remembers how he had spent the first several months of that stretch, especially.] I've been here for years, working hard to build my career— I'm up for tenure in the next couple of years, for goodness' sake. I suppose I don't feel I should have to leave.
[Not when she's come to his territory. It wouldn't be fair. He exhales, giving Amelia a wry smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]
Of course, she doesn't think there should be any bad blood between us. She thinks I'm being unreasonable, I expect. That messy business with the article discrediting my work, the unreasonable class load I've been pushed to take— I'm certain it's all with the intent of getting a rise out of me.
no subject
... As an unreasonable woman myself, I think I have grounds to say that she's one herself.
[Her hand pulls her glass to her lips before continuing.]
Or I should say, unreasonably vindictive.
May I ask what ended your relationship to begin with?
no subject
[He laughs softly, a hollow sound before he takes another long drink from his glass. Undoubtedly, that explains a fair bit about the state she'd found him in that night, out drinking alone, restless, grateful for the pleasant distraction.
As for the rest— even if she hadn't asked him, he'd intended to tell her. Until now, he had really only spoken about this at length with Tara. His own mother didn't know all the details; largely because it had been more than just painful, but it had been humiliating. Even now, he looks back and sees wasted years and a man who had been so certain of himself that he'd been unable to see what was right in front of him.
He lowers his glass again, his expression somber as the heavy bottom of the glass softly clicks against the bar.]
We were together a long while— well over five years, and had known one another even longer. I couldn't imagine there was anything I wouldn't have done for her. The vindictive woman she is now is, in many ways, entirely foreign to me. I thought we were happy, that we were both precisely where we wanted to be, and I was so sure that we wanted the same things. I asked her to marry me.
[He takes in a sharp breath. Another drink, and he averts his gaze from her again, unable to look Amelia in the eye for this next part.]
That turned out to be a problem when I learned she was already married— had been for years, even before we had met. I found out rather abruptly when she brought her husband to a benefit, after years of keeping him a secret— from me, from everyone. I think... the fact that he had apparently known about me all along made it worse, somehow. More humiliating. He didn't even consider me a threat to him.
[He very, very quickly downs the rest of his drink all in one go.]
And even then, she tried to convince me that I should be happy to continue things as they had been, that nothing had changed, and I was furious for having been lied to and made a fool of. I can't say I cared for being made party to adultery, either.
no subject
Gale... Gale, that's just...
[Never mind her own role post-relationship; she's taken in by the enormity and immorality of it all. What on earth was going through Dr. Manx's mind? It's completely alien to Amelia, who, for all her faults, recognized that Gale's qualities as a scholar, as a teacher, as a person of integrity were genuine. He hadn't spoken of his ex-lover because what they had meant that much. Spurned as he was, it hadn't gotten in the way of how they became friends after their own stumbling beginnings.
She swerves in her seat, her head shaking vigorously.]
You did not deserve that. What the hell was sheโ what is she even thinking now?
[Her voice has gained a tight, frustrated edge. She was angry on his behalf. It wasn't fair; Amelia's own part during their first encounter made her feel even more agitated, having wanted to use her time with him for purely selfish reasons though she had no way or reason to want to know what had ailed him.]
Did she expect you to just... Continue with the affair? Didn't any of your feelings matter to her?
no subject
His glass empty, he rakes his fingers through his hair, a faint twitch pulling at the corner of his mouth as he casts an appreciative glance at Amelia.
It's nice to feel heard, even if it's been over for ages now.]
I don't know that I'll ever understand her reasoning, even if she thought to explain it to me.
[It's complicated, he knows; all of it is made so much worse by the fact that he knows what they had shared had been real, as much as it could have been when Ariel had, apparently, not been willing to let it become a facet of her 'real' life. They'd spent so much time together that she had, more or less, taken a five year vacation from her marriage, and he had never been the wiser.
Nothing has ever made him feel quite so stupid as learning that particular truth had.]
I think it's safe to say that my feelings didn't matter much at all. It's been— tense since she came back here, to say the least. I'll admit, there was a long stretch after all of that where I was... [He gives her another wry little smile.] Let's just say I doubt you would recognize me, if you had the chance to meet that Gale today. It was much easier to put all of this behind me when she wasn't here, however.
[The damage done during that whole affair still ran deep. How had he been so blind? What was more— why hadn't he been enough? Why hadn't she loved him enough to be honest with him, to tell the truth and then to choose him if she had been so unhappy with her marriage?
Why hadn't he been good enough? What could he have done differently?
He hates that he still asks those questions, still doubts himself. It hadn't been his fault. Logically, he knows that, and given the chance to go back to how things had been before he'd known the truth— he wouldn't. Some things, however, defied logic.]
no subject
Amelia purses her lips, hiding the grit in her teeth. Then she takes a deep breath and takes a large chug of her whiskey sour.]
Whatever you were like back then what all of this proves, I think, is that you are a much, much better person than me. If I were in your position, I would have burned everything to the ground. I don't know how, but I would.
[Again, don't tempt the wrath of Amelia Eva Steinbeck.]
Today, you're doing good work, Gale. You have your hands full, but I don't see it dampening your passion with your research. You're dividing your attention to your graduate group and your undergraduate courses and I have not heard anyone suffering for it.
Dr. Manx will exist within your gravity, but for better or for worse, you've made the load she's thrust upon you your own. She can't take that from you anymore.
no subject
Believe me, I was tempted. Instead, I took some time off— disappeared from view, for awhile. My own mother didn't see much of me while I sorted things out. If not for Tara, I might have done far worse than sulk for a few months.
[Thankfully, Tara had helped him through the worst of it, kept him from letting himself become mired deep within his own misery for too long, from self-destructing yet further.
Now, in the presence, Amelia's reassurance reaches him. It is, somehow, just the thing he needs to hear, and he musters another small smile, this one more genuine than the last, his appreciation for her worn quite plainly on his face.]
Thank you for reminding me of what's important. I— don't know if I believe that I'm managing quite as well as you say, but if that's what you see, then I can only be as grateful as I am flattered. For all that she was involved in foundation of my career, I've earned my place here on my own, without anyone else's aid or influence. I don't intend to let her or anyone else undermine what I've done here— what I hope to continue to do.
no subject
[There's nothing else to add, she thinks. From the sound of it, he really was fortunate for Dr. Prescott's interventions, whenever it may have happened. As for Amelia, herself?
... Well, she didn't make anything worse. They were friends now and maybe she's a better friend than she gave herself credit for.]
For what it's worth Gale, I'll be on your side for this, just like how you were on my side today against Dr. Raphael. I know there's little I can do specifically, but if anything happens in the future... I'll be there.
no subject
[Some of the tension that had crept into his neck and shoulders eases from him.]
It was— good to say it all out loud, I think. I haven't, really, not before now.
[Even much of what Tara knew was because she had seen it all unfold, and she had been almost as outraged as Gale was, which made a great deal of sense when one considered just how protective she was of him, the familial nature of their friendship being what it was.
His friendship with Amelia was decidedly different. It was always going to be, given how it started out, but...
Even now, he feels the fluttering urge to reach out and let his fingers curl against her hand on the bar.
He resists.]
Likewise, you know. It wasn't just for today, or only when it's convenient. Should there be any further developments, any trouble... I'll be right behind you. Anyone who would seek to turn your passion for your work against you— that, I cannot abide. You're precisely the sort of person these students need.
[He looks back to his glass.]
One drink wasn't nearly enough for revisiting all of that. I'll have to open a bottle when I get home.
no subject
I know I said one drink only, but if you'd like another, I'll pay our tab.
[She finishes her own drink and glances over at Gale.]
It's payback for lunch.
[And everything else, but saying it's for lunch is more convenient.]
I'll just have a soda.
no subject
[He lets out a breathless little chuckle, shaking his head before he raises a hand with two fingers lifted to signal the bartender, then gestures to his glass.]
I'll not look a gift horse in the mouth, even if you don't owe me for anything. ... thank you.
[He's been saying that an awful lot, hasn't he?]
no subject
What are friends for?
[When her cola is served, she swirls its contents around.]
The day is almost coming to an end and we'll both still be troubled academics. Not a bad outcome after everything that's happened to us, don't you agree?
no subject
[He inadvertently mirrors her, leaning against the bar to rest his chin in his hand, nodding his thanks to the bartender when his drink comes. He takes his glass and holds it up to toast when Amelia's soda is served, his smile pulling to one side.]
To academia, and the drama that seems to be inherent within. The things we suffer for our passions, hm?
[Because at the end of the day, there's no denying that they are both devoted to what they do, that this is a calling for the both of them— not simply a job.]
If I must be a troubled academic, at least I can do so with a friend.
no subject
If things had been different, perhaps Amelia would be braver and more confident in reaching out, unafraid of the possible damage her faults could cause to him.
If things had been different, she'd have already forgiven herself, much like how she's indirectly telling Gale to do for himself.
But they're both here in the present moment, imperfect and injured survivors of their own flaws. That should be enough for now.]
Try not to fall asleep when you get more drink in you. This is the part where we get to talk smack about other students and our colleagues.
[And for the first time that day, she smiles. It's a small, but genuine one and in the glow of the bar's lighting, she doesn't look like a woman who was harsh on herself and others.]
no subject
Oh, I wouldn't miss that opportunity for the world. There's always plenty of gossip to go around, and we've both kept busy enough that we're due to catch up. Besides, it's only two.
[Two strong drinks after a challenging day, but he doesn't allow himself to remind her of what he'd still been capable of after a few more— he chides himself for even thinking of it.
In another world, maybe, things would have gone differently. He would have still had the confidence of his younger self, the assuredness to say how he really felt about the situation rather than defer to her judgement, but he had, over time, almost convinced himself that this was better. Surely, their friendship held greater value.]
Now— I haven't overheard enough to be certain, but I think there's some sort of betting pool among some of the teachers in the lounge. I swear I overheard Professor Blurg mentioning odds.
no subject
A betting pool? What for?
[Oh, Waterdeep University staff, you lovable goofs]
Is that something that happens often?
no subject
[Gale arches a brow. Clearly, he wasn't buying that.
He takes a sip of his drink, giving her a pointed look.]
Blurg has never been a gifted liar, but whatever it is, he's intent on being tight-lipped. I'll admit, I normally don't pay these things much mind, but his reaction alone has me intrigued.
no subject
[And Amelia, being too serious for that sort of playfulness, isn't curious enough to look into it herself.]
Tell me about your graduate students. Which one has the most promise?
no subject
Ah, that would have to be Rolan! I suppose I might be biased, but he reminds me a great deal of myself when I was younger— complete with a touch of arrogance that needs some gentle humbling.
[He gives a knowing, almost rueful smile, though that brightness of his doesn't dim.]
It's not an unearned confidence, but I think it will serve him better to have someone who recognizes it for what it is and offer guidance, rather than to feed it or let it go unchecked. He's bright— they all are— and I've no doubt he'll do something great, but there may be a bit of stumbling on the way.
no subject
[He might have said his hellos to Professor Lens and that's how Amelia is vaguely aware of the young man.]
Now, you've been referring to your younger self and alluding to being a very different sort of man. Be honest...
[Her voice is much more lighthearted at the moment.]
How fast would you get on my bad side if I met your younger self?
no subject
He gives Amelia an impish look over the rim of his glass before taking a drink, then lowering it so that he can lean forward slightly, as though it's of great import that his answer is for her ears alone.]
Oh, almost immediately, I've no doubt. I was quite insufferable in my youth.
[An entirely different sort of unrecognizable than the broken shell he had been two years earlier.]
Ambitious beyond words and eager to prove my worth at any cost, in addition to being entirely unafraid to boast of my own virtues. I was, perhaps, somewhat more tolerable by the time I was working on my masters' degree, but I don't think you would have had the patience. Remarkably, I was quite popular at school, but I think that would have made you like me all the less.
[He doubts she has ever been the sort to think much of the opinion of the crowd.]
I'd like to believe I've been suitably humbled by now.
no subject
She likes how he tells her all this about himself, like a small little secret. It's nice. All of this is.
Amelia smiles into her glass.]
I wouldn't have known you to be boastful if you hadn't told me.
[As for herself...]
Back then, I don't think I liked many people. Or rather, I didn't know how to like people. I was rather well-read as I was growing up so I tended to be a contemptuous know-it-all in my own way.
no subject
We've always had that in common, it seems— a great love of books.
[That, he doubts will ever change for either of them.]
Otherwise, we've both come quite a long way. You seem to like at least some people well enough now, for which I am infinitely grateful. Imagine if we had met in our youth— academic rivals, perhaps?
no subject
There's a lot that Amelia still prefers to keep to herself, but talking with Gale was easy, enjoyable... Just like that first night.
Better not stray there.]
Hypothetically, I would be very argumentative. Determined about being right about everything. So yes, I don't think you're far off.
no subject
Oh, no doubt we would have been at odds, because it would have been anathema to me to allow anyone else to be in the right.
[An insufferable know-it-all to the end.]
In our best interests, I think, that we waited until now to cross paths.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)