Author's Note: Wrote this AGES ago. But, I still kinda like it, because...I still kinda feel it. I'm just hoping that the thought flow fits Lucius.
Title: Patronize
Subject: She smiles and tells me to stop asking. I have never asked. (Pretty typical Ivy/Lucius fodder.)
Rating: K
Soundtrack: None. I have absolutely no remembrance of what I was listening to while I wrote this.
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That color. She always refuses to tell me what that color is that she sees in me. Every time we meet, she smiles and tells me to stop asking. I have never asked.
Not with my voice, many say, but with my heart and mind. But, truly, I have never asked. In no form of communication have I asked. Never with my mouth, never with my eyes, never with my mind, never with my heart. I have never asked.
Yet, for reasons which I cannot see, she continues to tease me with her words. I love Ivy Walker. Some days, though, she assumes too much. She believes she knows my thoughts better than even I know them. Maybe she does at times. But, she does not know all that she claims.
I have noticed that women are that way. They like to know that they are in control. Because men do not sew and cook and wash and bear children, they are stupid, and therefore need to be controlled. That seems to be the general female consensus. My mother, when I was young, would often command that I stay in her sight. Perhaps she feared that my inherent stupidity would cause me to do something foolish, so she needed always to watch me.
Women believe they know everything. They enjoy knowing things that men do not know. I believe it makes them feel important. Maybe that is how Ivy thinks when she taunts me. Perhaps she is simply gloating over the fact that she knows my color, and I do not. If this is so, she also is gloating over the supposed fact that she knows what I am thinking.
But, then, women also seem to enjoy trying to be cryptic and blatant at the same moment . They attempt to subtly suggest such and such a thing, waiting for their male victim to venture a guess as to what they wish to say. I've noticed this tactic used mostly by young women, younger than Ivy.
She smiles when she teases me. Obviously, she finds some enjoyment in it. Perhaps she does this because she wants me to guess. I would not, in any case.
Perhaps . . . perhaps she told me the reason at Resting Rock. Maybe she teases me, because she inwardly desires for me to know my color. But, she does not tell me, because that would seem too eager. So, rather than being too eager, she pretends that it is I who desires such knowledge. I suppose I shall continue to favor her charade, if this the case.
There is a chill in the air tonight. I fear tonight, only for her safety. I was a fool to enter the woods, and even more of a fool to allow myself to be seen. One of Those We Don't Speak Of almost hurt her last night. If I had not entered the woods, she would not have been in danger. My mother is ashamed of me tonight. She pretends she is not, but I can see it in her eyes and hear it in the way she sighs. I have put in danger the one I love, and I have broken the trust of the one who loves me. Only time will repair my relationship with my mother, but I can rid myself of fear for Ivy.
I will go to the Walker's house. I hope not to wake them. I hope not to anger my mother. I hope to protect them, to protect her, in the event that They return.
Perhaps I enjoy her teasing.
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Nix: Teh end. Review?