[Amelia/Ravi] - an overdue conversation
Who:
Amelia
Ravindra
When: In the evening, after Amelia talks to Niran.
Where: The Naran home
Rating & Warnings:
Amelia decides to stop being a jerk and talks to Uncle Ravi about that whole, you know, thing.
So many important conversations to have today! (Two was a bunch okay.) Amelia had debated whether to put off talking to Uncle Ravi until tomorrow, but in the end had decided it wasn't really fair of her to make him wait even longer. She was bad at holding grudges, even when she wanted to; during the walk home she realized she was eager to stop not speaking with him. She couldn't count the number of times during the week that something had happened and her first thoughts were, "I need to tell Uncle Ravi!" followed immediately by, "No wait I'm still mad at him."
However, she was still conflicted on how to feel about what he and Sofie had told her, so there was some trepidation despite her eagerness. She couldn't just throw open the door and start talking to him like everything was fine. That would make things weird, and she knew how much Uncle Ravi hated things being weird. So there had to be a talk first.
She found him sitting on the front steps of the house, and walked over. "Hi, Uncle Ravi."
Ravi frequently spent evenings sitting on the front steps, smoking, watching the night. It was quiet, solitary. Even though it was a public street, the dark felt isolating. It was a good feeling.
It didn't shatter when Amelia showed up, but it did crack at least a little. She'd spent enough nights out here with him growing up that her presence wasn't unwelcome, but in the face of the last words they'd exchanged it was...awkward. While he was busy being at a loss for how to respond in a way that was not immediately accusing or defensive, he realized it was dark out and she'd walked here by herself.
"Where is your sword?" he asked, eyebrows lowered over his eyes, as concern overtook his need to adhere to the social standards for a verbal exchange.
The question surprised her, followed closely by annoyance that that would be the first thing he said to her. "Rude, Uncle Ravi," she replied. "You could at least say hi first."
She pulled her cloak aside, twisting her belt so that the sword hung at her hip instead of behind her back. "It's right here, okay? I'm not stupid, I remembered what you said."
"Hi," he obliged, flat and patronizing. He was relieved to see that she wore it, but still angry that she'd come by herself after dark. She should know better. But he bit back his reply, because she had come and was speaking with him for the first time in a week, and it was an awful idea to start an argument with her right now.
He took a long drag on his cigarette and let it out slowly, willing himself to shift from angry overprotective dad mode into a state of mind that facilitated conversation. "So," he said, glancing up at her, "we are speaking again, now?"
"Maybe," she huffed, wrestling with the swordbelt so she could sit on the steps beside him without the sword in the way. She set her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands and stared out at the street for a moment.
Finally, she said, "I told Niran yes."
He froze, just for a second, and then glanced to her out of the corners of his eyes, eyebrows rising just slightly. "Ah?"
He had hoped she wouldn't. But he kept that to himself.
"Yup. Annnd," she turned her head to look at him, "he said you came to talk to him. And you brought him an apple." Her tone indicated well enough that she thought that was odd.
"Mmm..." It sounded silly when she said it like that, but she just didn't understand what offerings were. He set an arm on his raised knee, burying his fingers in his hair, and stared down at the steps for a moment before he replied.
"Naga are divine," he said. "It is polite to bring an offering." He wanted to point out that she'd agreed to date something divine and that was an incredibly awkward position to be in as her adopted father, but there was no way to say that tactfully.
"So is it polite to give him the angry eyebrows and tell him not to hurt me, too?" That one was said with an angry Amelia pout, he knew the one.
He knew it extremely well and he deliberately avoided looking at her face so he wouldn't have to see it. Damn Niran for telling her about that. Ravi hadn't expected him to mention their conversation at all, so this was a bit of a nasty surprise.
"No. It was very impolite." He glanced up without moving his head, but quickly turned his eyes away again. That faaaace. "But I would be impolite even to Shiva out of concern for you."
The pout turned into a quirk of her lips, her brow creased in thought. Shiva was one of his crazy eight-armed gods; the god of death wasn't it? Actually, it was easy to imagine Uncle Ravi standing up to a god of death and telling him not to hurt her, which softened her feelings about his doing it to Niran, just a little.
Even when she was mad enough at him to decide they weren't speaking to each other, he still cared enough to be impolite to something he thought was divine (it was just Niran, though, so that was still a little weird to her). It made her feel guilty for trying to stay mad for so long. Despite whatever was going on between him and Aunt Sofie, he really never stopped caring about her, did he?
"What did you think of Niran?" she asked, honestly interested in his answers now and not just trying to demand explanations out of him.
What did he think of Niran. How to answer that without upsetting her, or saying something she'd pass on that would upset him? Ravi straightened, buying time with a smoky pause and looking out to the street as he considered.
"Quiet," he said finally. "Thoughtful. Respectful, of what I am to you, despite his own station." A pause. "And I gave him my blessing, so long as you accepted him."
Her eyebrows rose, her chin lifting from her hands. "You did?" Niran hadn't mentioned that part. That meant Uncle Ravi approved. She'd half expected him to fight it, to tell her she wasn't allowed to be with Niran because he was an Other.
"I did," he answered. He turned to her, not fully, just a glance past his shoulder. "Because you will do what you want, regardless of what I say. If you want to be with Niran, there is nothing I can do but let you.
"But Amelia." Now he faced her fully, looking her in the eyes so she would know how serious he was. "I want you to understand that with the way the city is now, it is dangerous for people to know you are involved with someone who is not human. And it is dangerous for myself and Sofia, as well, because we are your family. Be careful."
She blinked at him, taken aback by his words and the tone of them. She thought back to the mob, and how they'd attacked anybody even suspected of being an Other. "Okay," she said, her voice meeker than she'd intended.
She edged closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder. It reminded her of her childhood, years of sitting on the steps with Uncle Ravi, talking about serious things or nothing at all or listening to him tell stories, the smell of smoke, the cold of night staved off by his arm around her shoulders. Suddenly she couldn't believe she'd ever been angry with him. He really was still the same Uncle Ravi he'd been her entire life.
She let the silence last for what felt like ages before she said, "Uncle Ravi? Why did you wait so long to tell me? About you and Aunt Sofie?"
His arm came up automatically to rest around Amelia's shoulders as she leaned against his, muscle memory deeply ingrained through years and years of sitting out here just like this. He let the silence last until she spoke, putting out his cigarette when it burned down, resting his chin in his hand as he looked up at the stars and wondered when, exactly, was she finally going to bring up the uncomfortable subject that had caused them to stop speaking in the first place.
There it was. He let out a sigh, dropping his head, burying his fingers in his hair again. His arm fell from her shoulders. "I was afraid," he told her, quietly honest, "of how you would react."
Oh that just made her feel more guilty for trying to stay angry so long. For even being angry at all. She picked at a stray thread in her skirt before willing herself to stop before she ruined her mother's dress, and then just twisted her fingers together. "I'm sorry. I was just so angry that you lied to me for so long and that you hurt Aunt Sofie."
She frowned down at her knees and smoothed her skirt out over them. "She keeps telling me 'it's not that simple' but I just don't understand what the problem is."
Augh, the other reason he'd waited so long to tell her: he didn't want to have this conversation with her. Trying to explain how he was to somebody who didn't get it was impossible. He didn't say anything for a long while, and then finally said, "Sofia phrased it poorly. It is not a preference."
He didn't look at her while he spoke, because it was easier to say if he ignored that she was there. "It is normal for a man to like women, Amelia. And it is also normal for a man to like both. But it is not normal for a man to like only men, and to not like women at all. It is not normal, but it that does not mean it does not happen. I have tried with Sofia. I really have. But it was uncomfortable for us both, so we stopped."
He didn't even bother trying to explain how half the problem was that he expected nothing from Sofia but she seemed to expect quite a lot out of him, or how she was unhappy because she let their marriage act as a prison and was bitter with him because he didn't. He preferred not to upset Amelia again, so all that remained unsaid.
She reached up to tuck an errant strand behind her ear, her eyes still focused on her knees instead of him. It sounded wrong to her, but that was the point wasn't it? He'd just said it wasn't normal. And maybe she wasn't normal either because it seemed like everyone liked sex except for her. She tried to imagine Niran pressuring her into it (she couldn't, though), and wondered if that was what it was like for Uncle Ravi to be with Aunt Sofie.
"It just sounds weird to me," she mumbled.
"It is," he told her, looking up, tilting his head to face her. "But it is how I have been my whole life. It never has changed and it never will."
He put his arm around her shoulders again, giving her a squeeze. "I am sorry to lie to you for so long, Amelia." Words he didn't say very often. "It is difficult for me to speak about with anyone, especially the people whose opinions matter most to me."
He was still Uncle Ravi, she told herself. He'd always been weird anyway, what with how he hated being around people and wouldn't say what he was thinking. It was just one more aspect to his weirdness.
The apology meant worlds to her, simply because he didn't apologize very often. She twisted herself to throw her arms around him, pressing her face into his shoulder. "I'm sorry too, Uncle Ravi. I love you."
So that was that, then. A week of not speaking, one awkward explanation, and they were back to normal. He hoped so.
A warm smile crossed his face and he set his hand on her head, holding her close. "I love you too, Amelia."
Amelia
Ravindra
When: In the evening, after Amelia talks to Niran.
Where: The Naran home
Rating & Warnings:
Amelia decides to stop being a jerk and talks to Uncle Ravi about that whole, you know, thing.
So many important conversations to have today! (Two was a bunch okay.) Amelia had debated whether to put off talking to Uncle Ravi until tomorrow, but in the end had decided it wasn't really fair of her to make him wait even longer. She was bad at holding grudges, even when she wanted to; during the walk home she realized she was eager to stop not speaking with him. She couldn't count the number of times during the week that something had happened and her first thoughts were, "I need to tell Uncle Ravi!" followed immediately by, "No wait I'm still mad at him."
However, she was still conflicted on how to feel about what he and Sofie had told her, so there was some trepidation despite her eagerness. She couldn't just throw open the door and start talking to him like everything was fine. That would make things weird, and she knew how much Uncle Ravi hated things being weird. So there had to be a talk first.
She found him sitting on the front steps of the house, and walked over. "Hi, Uncle Ravi."
Ravi frequently spent evenings sitting on the front steps, smoking, watching the night. It was quiet, solitary. Even though it was a public street, the dark felt isolating. It was a good feeling.
It didn't shatter when Amelia showed up, but it did crack at least a little. She'd spent enough nights out here with him growing up that her presence wasn't unwelcome, but in the face of the last words they'd exchanged it was...awkward. While he was busy being at a loss for how to respond in a way that was not immediately accusing or defensive, he realized it was dark out and she'd walked here by herself.
"Where is your sword?" he asked, eyebrows lowered over his eyes, as concern overtook his need to adhere to the social standards for a verbal exchange.
The question surprised her, followed closely by annoyance that that would be the first thing he said to her. "Rude, Uncle Ravi," she replied. "You could at least say hi first."
She pulled her cloak aside, twisting her belt so that the sword hung at her hip instead of behind her back. "It's right here, okay? I'm not stupid, I remembered what you said."
"Hi," he obliged, flat and patronizing. He was relieved to see that she wore it, but still angry that she'd come by herself after dark. She should know better. But he bit back his reply, because she had come and was speaking with him for the first time in a week, and it was an awful idea to start an argument with her right now.
He took a long drag on his cigarette and let it out slowly, willing himself to shift from angry overprotective dad mode into a state of mind that facilitated conversation. "So," he said, glancing up at her, "we are speaking again, now?"
"Maybe," she huffed, wrestling with the swordbelt so she could sit on the steps beside him without the sword in the way. She set her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands and stared out at the street for a moment.
Finally, she said, "I told Niran yes."
He froze, just for a second, and then glanced to her out of the corners of his eyes, eyebrows rising just slightly. "Ah?"
He had hoped she wouldn't. But he kept that to himself.
"Yup. Annnd," she turned her head to look at him, "he said you came to talk to him. And you brought him an apple." Her tone indicated well enough that she thought that was odd.
"Mmm..." It sounded silly when she said it like that, but she just didn't understand what offerings were. He set an arm on his raised knee, burying his fingers in his hair, and stared down at the steps for a moment before he replied.
"Naga are divine," he said. "It is polite to bring an offering." He wanted to point out that she'd agreed to date something divine and that was an incredibly awkward position to be in as her adopted father, but there was no way to say that tactfully.
"So is it polite to give him the angry eyebrows and tell him not to hurt me, too?" That one was said with an angry Amelia pout, he knew the one.
He knew it extremely well and he deliberately avoided looking at her face so he wouldn't have to see it. Damn Niran for telling her about that. Ravi hadn't expected him to mention their conversation at all, so this was a bit of a nasty surprise.
"No. It was very impolite." He glanced up without moving his head, but quickly turned his eyes away again. That faaaace. "But I would be impolite even to Shiva out of concern for you."
The pout turned into a quirk of her lips, her brow creased in thought. Shiva was one of his crazy eight-armed gods; the god of death wasn't it? Actually, it was easy to imagine Uncle Ravi standing up to a god of death and telling him not to hurt her, which softened her feelings about his doing it to Niran, just a little.
Even when she was mad enough at him to decide they weren't speaking to each other, he still cared enough to be impolite to something he thought was divine (it was just Niran, though, so that was still a little weird to her). It made her feel guilty for trying to stay mad for so long. Despite whatever was going on between him and Aunt Sofie, he really never stopped caring about her, did he?
"What did you think of Niran?" she asked, honestly interested in his answers now and not just trying to demand explanations out of him.
What did he think of Niran. How to answer that without upsetting her, or saying something she'd pass on that would upset him? Ravi straightened, buying time with a smoky pause and looking out to the street as he considered.
"Quiet," he said finally. "Thoughtful. Respectful, of what I am to you, despite his own station." A pause. "And I gave him my blessing, so long as you accepted him."
Her eyebrows rose, her chin lifting from her hands. "You did?" Niran hadn't mentioned that part. That meant Uncle Ravi approved. She'd half expected him to fight it, to tell her she wasn't allowed to be with Niran because he was an Other.
"I did," he answered. He turned to her, not fully, just a glance past his shoulder. "Because you will do what you want, regardless of what I say. If you want to be with Niran, there is nothing I can do but let you.
"But Amelia." Now he faced her fully, looking her in the eyes so she would know how serious he was. "I want you to understand that with the way the city is now, it is dangerous for people to know you are involved with someone who is not human. And it is dangerous for myself and Sofia, as well, because we are your family. Be careful."
She blinked at him, taken aback by his words and the tone of them. She thought back to the mob, and how they'd attacked anybody even suspected of being an Other. "Okay," she said, her voice meeker than she'd intended.
She edged closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder. It reminded her of her childhood, years of sitting on the steps with Uncle Ravi, talking about serious things or nothing at all or listening to him tell stories, the smell of smoke, the cold of night staved off by his arm around her shoulders. Suddenly she couldn't believe she'd ever been angry with him. He really was still the same Uncle Ravi he'd been her entire life.
She let the silence last for what felt like ages before she said, "Uncle Ravi? Why did you wait so long to tell me? About you and Aunt Sofie?"
His arm came up automatically to rest around Amelia's shoulders as she leaned against his, muscle memory deeply ingrained through years and years of sitting out here just like this. He let the silence last until she spoke, putting out his cigarette when it burned down, resting his chin in his hand as he looked up at the stars and wondered when, exactly, was she finally going to bring up the uncomfortable subject that had caused them to stop speaking in the first place.
There it was. He let out a sigh, dropping his head, burying his fingers in his hair again. His arm fell from her shoulders. "I was afraid," he told her, quietly honest, "of how you would react."
Oh that just made her feel more guilty for trying to stay angry so long. For even being angry at all. She picked at a stray thread in her skirt before willing herself to stop before she ruined her mother's dress, and then just twisted her fingers together. "I'm sorry. I was just so angry that you lied to me for so long and that you hurt Aunt Sofie."
She frowned down at her knees and smoothed her skirt out over them. "She keeps telling me 'it's not that simple' but I just don't understand what the problem is."
Augh, the other reason he'd waited so long to tell her: he didn't want to have this conversation with her. Trying to explain how he was to somebody who didn't get it was impossible. He didn't say anything for a long while, and then finally said, "Sofia phrased it poorly. It is not a preference."
He didn't look at her while he spoke, because it was easier to say if he ignored that she was there. "It is normal for a man to like women, Amelia. And it is also normal for a man to like both. But it is not normal for a man to like only men, and to not like women at all. It is not normal, but it that does not mean it does not happen. I have tried with Sofia. I really have. But it was uncomfortable for us both, so we stopped."
He didn't even bother trying to explain how half the problem was that he expected nothing from Sofia but she seemed to expect quite a lot out of him, or how she was unhappy because she let their marriage act as a prison and was bitter with him because he didn't. He preferred not to upset Amelia again, so all that remained unsaid.
She reached up to tuck an errant strand behind her ear, her eyes still focused on her knees instead of him. It sounded wrong to her, but that was the point wasn't it? He'd just said it wasn't normal. And maybe she wasn't normal either because it seemed like everyone liked sex except for her. She tried to imagine Niran pressuring her into it (she couldn't, though), and wondered if that was what it was like for Uncle Ravi to be with Aunt Sofie.
"It just sounds weird to me," she mumbled.
"It is," he told her, looking up, tilting his head to face her. "But it is how I have been my whole life. It never has changed and it never will."
He put his arm around her shoulders again, giving her a squeeze. "I am sorry to lie to you for so long, Amelia." Words he didn't say very often. "It is difficult for me to speak about with anyone, especially the people whose opinions matter most to me."
He was still Uncle Ravi, she told herself. He'd always been weird anyway, what with how he hated being around people and wouldn't say what he was thinking. It was just one more aspect to his weirdness.
The apology meant worlds to her, simply because he didn't apologize very often. She twisted herself to throw her arms around him, pressing her face into his shoulder. "I'm sorry too, Uncle Ravi. I love you."
So that was that, then. A week of not speaking, one awkward explanation, and they were back to normal. He hoped so.
A warm smile crossed his face and he set his hand on her head, holding her close. "I love you too, Amelia."