A/N: There's only so much I can write about a some-month-old infant, no matter how cute she is. Next chapter we skip on ahead a couple of some years.
More baby Rey! Fluff! Magic! Hoorah!
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ໟ .~( INTERLUDE )~. ໟ
003. I wished upon a star and received you
HE'S BEEN SILENT since the incident; his already sunken eyes are rimmed bright red and the bags under his eyes belong to someone so elderly, not on a child. He's been desperate to break out of this insufferable silence and yet, every creak, every step, every whisper and every breath he hears from beyond his walls send his nerves on a frenzy. He had thrown the most notorious tantrum —tantrum, they called his shaken reaction as the guards had whisked Gidrog away and the maids attempted to tend to him. He made it clear he didn't want anyone in his room, and by word of mouth, that order made it to the his father. Or so Ben assumed, anyway, because no one has made even an attempt to enter his chambers since the whole incident. So he does the only thing he's learned how to do; He waits for Rey to appear. Though the despair of someone close having raised their sword to him fuels his nightmares inevitably, he replaces the turmoil with purposeful excitement; it barely works, but it's a thread he hangs on to nonetheless. At some point he realized he never once said her name out loud and young Ben doesn't really understand why it's important all of a sudden, but it is, and in his own attempt to squelch down the constant, stomach-churning, trepidation that consumes his very soul, his mind wanders to big hazel eyes and soft, mushy foreheads. He doesn't see her for a while, and it almost feels like, at least in fleeting moments, everything is back to normal, as if he's harboring his very own well kept secret. He is an unmovable force in the sheets; from morning until dawn, and from then to the night… just waiting.
His eyes and mouth and fingers twitch when he feels that familiar pull of his soul being tugged slightly, from the root of his chest as if his breath if being stolen from him. He closes his eyes and his body itches all over from adrenaline, yet anticipation roots him to the spot.
She's just at the foot of the bed; he's within reaching distance if he just stretched his arm instead of having it clamped over his bent knees. "...It's you..." he says simply, quietly, as if he wills the words to come out sarcastically, yet they're anything but. Rey is just a baby, though, and so her lack of response and eye contact make him more at ease if only marginally. But she seems to recognize him well enough, for her eyes brighten in a way that makes Ben feel like she's familiar with him. But right now, it does very little to cheer him up. In contrast to her happy, jerky body and head movements, Ben clamps tighter, tightening his form as he ducks his head into his knees. "You took time to appear, again. You've had me waiting; I don't like to wait," he says this without any real effort or scorn, tone listless. "Gidrog always says that time is valuable. 'It shan't be wasted,' so she would say—" His throat closes in of itself, and tears well up in the back of his eyes and he lets out a strangled cry that manages to catch the baby's attention, as if spooked and she looks to him with wide eyes. He wonders for a brief moment if she can tell if he's upset; babies don't look particularly observant, so he adds that to his growing mental list of information he can pick up from Rey. "…. She tried to kill me." Saying it out loud makes it more real, somehow, more frightening, and he grips his head and the roots of his hair as he lets out a sound that's a mixture between a strangle and a sob. "My governess raised a sword to my head." He says it again, whispering it like a mantra; still trying to absorb the shock of it all. Hot scorching traitorous tears finally cascade down his pale cheeks, but he still clenches his eyes even more anyway, despite starting to see stars. He hates crying; not so much the fact that it makes him feel so weak as everyone else would suffocate him with the weight of that word, but for the fact on how it makes him feel physically; it's a tiresome, aching thing. He wishes for nothing more in this moment than to have his plague mask and cloak on; at least that way, he could freely let his tears fall without anyone having to tell that he's in such a state. Nobody would care because he's so very taken care of. He lets out a rueful shudder; at who is questionable. At himself, at his servants, at Gidrog, at the King; he doesn't even know, truthfully. Having momentarily forgotten about company, he peers his vision up ever so slightly at the sound of a shuffle, nearly snapping to.
As always, Rey remains so oblivious. Her hazel eyes are wide, curious and though she stares, she doesn't stare for too long before her gaze wanders to anything else. He says nothing as she places her fingers in her mouth and begins sucking messily, gurgling in bliss. In that moment, even fleeting, he is truly envious. He suffers, nearly having been killed not more than some days ago —perhaps even a week, he's lost track of the time- and yet, for all his tears and worries, his aches and pains, here she sits… blissfully oblivious to the world around him, to him, and he doesn't like the notion. "...I almost died. Would you have noticed?" Somewhere in the back of his mind, the boy knows this is… illogical. She's so small and young and literally a baby; she knows nothing, she probably doesn't even know her own name. But it doesn't stop from his indignity to nearly skyrocket; "Would you still be smiling?" Though he means his words to have bite and for his anger to seep through, they fall and crack every time he tries to focus on her; she's just so… so… blissfully unaware of everything, and though he is jealous, it exasperates and bemuses him more so than outright angers him. He deflates after it's obvious she won't respond, letting out a shaky sigh he lets go of his knees. "Yeah you probably would have. Nobody cares about me; nobody cares about Ben," he mutters to himself, looking down to his knobby knees; weak and sickly.
"Bah." He blinks and looks up; he's almost taken aback by Rey's stare, tiny mushy mouth set into a fine line on her plush skin, and even her brows are creased as if focused. It's like she's wanting to talk to him, and for a moment, being the ten year old secluded child he is, he even expects a sentence. He holds his breath for what seems minutes, his heart palpitating with each passing second; oh so very slowly, she opens her mouth and he leans forward without knowing. She says it again, louder; "Bah."
"I… excuse me?"
"Bah."
It takes him a moment, but when realization dawns on him, he practically begins sputtering. "….No. I said Ben. Ben. My name is Ben. Not bah."
"Bah."
"No. No, Rey, you're not… understanding me. It's Ben. Beee-en." He signs the length of the 'e' with two fingers, in his small mind helping her understand the significance of the stretched out vowel. "Three letters. B-E-N." Tragedy and hurt pushed aside, his focus has now shifted completely to her and though he may not realize it, it's exactly what he needs. He's untangled himself from his bed sheets, having shifted closer to the baby, looming over her almost protectively but secretly elated that she has spoken. To him. At him. Saying his name. Or trying to, anyway. He says it again, each time widening his eyes more with excitement and reveling in the tilt of her head and her curious eyes fixated on him like he's the most interesting thing in her world, the concept making him excited even. He waits for her to say it again, and he thinks she's going to finally say it correctly this time.
"….Bbbbb—ah."
Ben visibly deflates, sagging his shoulders and resting his wrists over each of his knees. He's shifted over to a cross legged position, and it's the first time in weeks since he's moved this much, and he ignores the ache in his limbs from lack of movement. He looks over at her exasperatedly, as if she's committed nothing more than pure mistakes, as if he's her teacher, and she's his rambunctious student. He likes the thought of that; likes having someone who looks at him for guidance and reassurance as opposed to him constantly looking for it himself. "Okay… 'Bah' it is then." He pokes a finger to her forehead, gently massaging that spot and she laughs. For the first time in what seems to have been forever, he smiles. It's ugly, feels unnatural and isn't well-rehearsed, but it's a true genuine smile nonetheless. Rey grins wider at the sight and she squeals as his finger probes the skin of her center gently. "I think… I think you're the only one that likes me right now. Everyone else… doesn't." Talking about it, now that he's just a bit more relaxed, is slightly easier; at least talking to an infant that has no concept of anything other than food won't judge one so harshly, and even then Ben fears that very same thing, but he tries to, anyway. He shrugs, and —thankfully, is getting much better at controlling his facial muscles and spazzy movements. "I don't know why Gidrog got mad at me… but she was. I think maybe she was already mad at me for some time now." He purposefully leaves out the part where she called him a monster and that she was like Him, not wanting Rey most of all to look at him in such a bad light. Not when she's looking at him like he's fascinating, like he means something to her; maybe everything. And that's not a position he wants to be demoted from so easily; because it means at least one person out there isn't judging him so harshly.
She just gurgles happily at him, and far too quickly her gaze wanders elsewhere. He pokes her on the nose, marveling at the little bunch. His eyes land on familiar golden dice tied at her wrists, and he finds himself reaching nimble fingers to try and loosen them; her wrists are too small, too frail to have anything tied onto them. This time, when she dissipates from view, he is not disappointed or saddened. It is the first time he sleeps properly in a long while.
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It's becoming something of a routine now. Rey is easy to talk to, and it's so easy to pretend that he's her friend rather than an oblivious infant who has no real choice or willingness to listen to him, but it doesn't dissuade him in the very least. Sometimes, she appears at the foot of his bed, other times she appears in that same ghost crib he saw her in the second time they'd met up. Each and every time, Ben is careful and just a little too excited, and he speaks more so than the last, letting down his mental defenses he puts up for everyone else. He's becoming more and more endeared to her apparent take on his name; Bah. And she says it each time her gaze wanders to his; sometimes she does it when he doesn't even realize she's appeared, and it sends a jolt of something in his little heart, making him smile just a little wider.
"I saw my father for the first time; really saw him." His voice is heavy, his posture a little too dramatic as he lays down on his bed with his head leaning against his fist, seemingly bored and just a bit casual. Rey is near, off to the near edge of the large bed with her tummy flat on the mattress sprawled against a dirty blanket —one that is clearly not his. She has a pacifier in her mouth and they face each other like something friends might possibly do; Ben isn't sure. "Without my mask; I don't let anyone see me without my mask, except you. Gidrog said it was to help me with my ailments… but I think I can go on without it. Maybe. I don't know." As if she asks, he gets up from his position and grabs the plague mask tucked neatly under his bed, and he fingers the edges of the leathery, horrifying, black thing. He pouts in distaste as he gazes at her, showing her. "I look like a bird. I hate birds." As if to emphasize his point, he places the mask in front of his face and, in an attempt to be funny, he tilts his head side to side.
This proves to be a mistake, because the Rey shrieks and cries at the sight.
He nearly jumps out of his skin, dropping the giant mask and nearly howls in pain when the beak of it hits his leg sharply. His poor little heart is in a frenzy, and he's wide eyed as he stares at her. She's never cried like this in front of him… because of him, and he doesn't like to hear her cry. "No… no… I…. don't c-cry." Half of him is urged to clamp his hands over his ears, and the other is nearly broken at the sight of her crying, helpless. He doesn't know what to do, and he doesn't want to scare her any further. His shallow breaths don't let him speak. "I...I…. I'm sorry… I'm sorry," he says shakily, panicked. "L-look. Look! I'm putting it away! See?!" He hastily buries the wretched mask under his bed; but Rey's crying is only getting louder and her eyes are shut, mouth wide open letting out piercing shrieks. He doesn't know what to do! The boy doesn't have the slightest knowledge in how to even comfort and child, so it doesn't occur to him to at least rock her or smooth out her belly. He sits there, tense and utterly terrified and guilty. So guilty. "I'm sorry," he repeats over and over, each time deflating in volume. He's too scared to touch her, and he finds himself wanting to cry too.
"Mother Superior! It's the child! She's crying again!" Ben jumps at the voice, breathing ragged and harsh and familiar— this time, however, he doesn't quite bother to look around for the source. He only looks on as she slowly fades from his view, the voices on her end of this strange bond fading along with her..
He's never felt so wretched until now.
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NEXT SEGMENT: 004. peering at the universe through cracked glass
