paradisa | Thirty One Truffula Trees

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the once-ler

Thirty One Truffula Trees

[The Once-ler hasn't heard from his mother in a while. This is nothing new, really. She only ever comes to him if she wanted something, it's always been that way, and he doubts she'd ever change, magical castle notwithstanding. But he hasn't heard from her since that dinosaur mess, and eventually, his love for her overwhelms his common sense and desire not to get his heart kicked in, as it always inevitably does. He heads off to her room, finding the nameplate gone.

Well. That was that. She'd left him. Again. Quietly this time, with no harsh words to bite into his memory as she drives away into the smog. Just a door without a name on it. He doubts he'll ever see her again, and he feels guilty for finding some relief in that thought. He exhales, opening his journal. He doesn't even know what to say at first, he doesn't even know if she even HAD any friends here]

For anyone who cares, my mom. [Pause] Flora her name's Flora. Look, I don't know if anyone knew her or not- but she's gone. Back home. So there you go.

[He'll just go try to find somewhere to brood where his friends won't find him now]

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[He'll walk into her room, giving a soft scoff, not at her, but at the castle in general]

You'd be surprised.

[ With the door shut, Anne already feels more at ease. She's becoming more and more a shut-in by the way, and she can no longer even blame the castle. But her smile remains, half out of manners, and half out of somewhat muted sympathy. Anne isn't sorry that his mother is gone, from what she's heard on her own. Still, the relationship between parent and child is complex...isn't it?

She doesn't bother to go through all the necessary motions, because what does it matter? A queen wouldn't really be having a man over for a drink without any guards or chaperones, and it wouldn't be within her own chambers. And, well, how much of a queen is she anymore? She had spent enough time in his tent, anyway, to not feel the need to put on so many airs. Such things might have been impossible with his strange...condition, anyway. ]

I am not certain anything could surprise me any longer.

[ The wine is already there, in a half-full pitcher with a few goblets resting near it. She pours one drink for him, and refills her own, before handing one of the cups over. She looks to the wall just beyond him, at a French painting that means nothing to her now. ]

I have never asked you...after those. Or, rather, that. That word that follows you around, and multiplies when you remain.

[He woudln't want the airs and graces anyway. He'd been forced to put them on himself, for meetings with investors and lawyers and the like. He'd never liked it, it just wasn't HIM. He offers her a small smile, taking the goblet with a nod of thanks. When she speaks, his eyes drop to an unless scrawling itself by his foot]

Oh. Those. That's my...loss. I can't escape the word, ever.

[ She sits in the makeshift throne, and waves a hand to the aways-empty one just next to her. It's big enough that it's less awkward for him than normal chairs, at least! ]

Unless what?

[It takes him a moment, before he finally moves to sit in it, staring down at the word]

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not.

[ She looks at him curiously. It sounds more like a quote from a book, a line from poetry, than an explanation. She contemplates while draining her goblet. ]

Everybody cares for something, do they not? You care, I know you do, so then why do they continue to follow?

Because I didn't care when I should have. [He'll trace one with his finger as it appears on the arm of his chair] By the time I learned to care, it was too late. This word, it's carved on a rock in front of my home...back where I come from. It sounds like it'll haunt me for a long time yet.

[ Setting down her empty cup for a moment. ]

Regret and fear do a well enough job of haunting those with shaky pasts... It is cruel for the castle to put such mental anguish on display. But I suppose I am no exception, however less plain my loss is.

Yeah, well, I'm kind of used to the castle taunting me by now. I can't say I don't deserve it.

[He casts her a curious look] How so? Uh- I mean unless you don't want to talk about it. They're usually pretty personal things.

[ They are, and...she has told nobody. Not a soul, though one paying keen attention might have guessed, at least if they understood how she was supposed to be introduced.

He had shared his, though, and this seems to be a time for sharing. She didn't invite him in just to stare out the window, although that's a feasible past-time. ]

I am unable to call myself Qu— [ Yup, there it goes, she nearly gurgles from how forcefully it's cut off, quickly covering her mouth and coughing a couple times until she can get her air back. ] ...Worse, I have been known to address myself as the King's Jezebel when I continue to try.

[ And oh God, knowing why she dies, it takes a whole new meaning. ]

[Wow. The Once-ler blinks at her, surprised for a moment, before his expression turns to one of sympathy, with a touch of contempt for this damn place added to the mix for good measure]

I'm sorry, that's pretty awful. It shouldn't take away your right to tell people who you are.

It is a continued mockery; a message from the papacy. No country under it's thumb will acknowledge me as queen or my daughter as legitimate, and so you see, it is no empty loss.

[ It's one that stabs her deep, and twists on a daily basis. And now, now it's even worse, but she isn't sure she can really bear to bring up her doom to anyone, so broken and hateful and ashamed is she. It actually takes Anne a moment to swallow the lump in her throat, to focus and not allow the wine to make her thoughts too murky. ]

...Neither is yours. It says something for your character, that you continue on your way despite it being displayed so openly.

[Hold up, he frowns a little] Wait. Like Lucrezia's family? [Still...] Well, if it helps any, you're always a queen to me, a good one too. I mean, you care about people here, you want there to be an orphanage, to take care of the kids native to this world. That's pretty darn queenly to me.

[He shrugs at her comment about his own loss] I haven't exactly got much choice. When I try to hide and sulk about it, someone drags me out.

[ She smiles thinly at his attempt at comfort, accepting it for what it is even if it doesn't help. She isn't yet ready to let anything help, perhaps... Or she doesn't know what possibly can. ]

You ought to count your blessings, then, that you should have those that love you enough to be sure you do not drown in your own darkness. It is necessary to occasionally bask in the light, Master Once-ler.

[He could understand that sentiment only too well. He still doesn't think himself worthy of the comfort his friends offer. The ones that do, indeed, keep him from drowning in his own darkness, something he could only too easily surrender to]

That's what they keep telling me.

[ In truth, Anne would be jealous if she had any desire to be out and social herself, but she doesn't. That light is gone, so it's best that all leave her alone until she beckons, anyway. ]

Perhaps if you hear it enough, you will believe it, as well.

Maybe. I really doubt it, but people here sure are persistent.

It is a shame you think so little of yourself. I cannot help but feel relief that your mother is gone, and I am sorry for saying so.

So am I. [A small frown crosses his face] And I should probably feel more guilty about that than I actually do.

...Perhaps. What do you feel aside from guilt?

More relief than anything. Relief that she's out of my life again, that I don't have to struggle to win even the tiniest bit of affection or attention from her.

Did she really never offer you a whit?

Only when she thought I could make her money. I guess that's all it was about, in the end.

[ That's sad, a mingled sadness, for him and again for her, doesn't she so often think of herself? But not of her daughter now, but of her mother and how she will never see her again, and her father, and how much of this was due to him pushing too hard, but no it has always been for the good of the family. ...And for this one, who hasn't even known a mother's real love, but Anne is not ignorant to the cruelties of the world, and knows that some women should never be mothers. Is it because of her that the Once-ler strove too far and became lost? Really, he had lost everything, and now so had she. How much blame can be placed with the parent, and how much with the child once grown? ~~Obviously her husband isn't to blame.~~

She lifts her hand as if to reach for the pitcher again, but instead reaches across to settle her hand over his, fingers curling until she can get a true grip and squeeze. She remembers, a lifetime ago now, something that was once said to her that she hadn't understood then, but saw so clearly now. ]

It is much harder to have everything, than to have nothing.

[Everything he'd done in his life had been geared towards his mother's acceptance, to make her love him, to prove to her that he was worth having in her life. When he lost her once and for all (or so he'd thought) it had been a moment of panic at first. But slowly, surely, he's made himself a life here, one he knows will have to end eventually, but a life none the less. One where he doesn't have to prove himself to ANYONE.

It's still a strange concept. He glances down at their hands, giving a thin smile]

Isn't that the truth? I think I was happier when I was poor.

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