This self-indulgence is getting out of hand but I ain't stopping.
Tom clung to Ari, without any pretense or deception. He didn't bother to hide the tremor of his hands and the sudden wetness of his eyes.
Honesty. That was the key, wasn't it?
He was going to bare his soul to this woman of fey beauty and kindness. It was reckless, bordering on foolish. To take that leap of faith of submitting to another person, he'd have to be blind. He had spent years upon years using caution and cunning as his shield. He knew better than to trust people with anything remotely not normal. They were judgmental, they were small-minded. They'd condemn him. They'd cast him down.
But Tom was tired. Exhausted. Down to his brittle bones and sharp mind.
He was sick of fighting life itself to earn his right to eat, drink and sleep; sick of protecting himself from people that were supposed to take care of him in the first place. He never had a moment to simply breathe. Everything in his life was calculated, down to the last second.
All for another day that he might survive. Never live. Living was never an option.
But it could be now.
"I… always had it," he began, halting and unsure. But willing to try he continued, "My power, I mean. Some people say that I've done something evil in my life to earn the Devil's favor. But I didn't. As far as I know, I was born with it." Tom replayed his words, took a deep breath and cursed himself in his head. That made it sound like he was the reincarnation of a truly vile person.
Ari was still keeping him close though, so he ignored his new-found tendency to self-sabotage when honest and kept talking. He thought it would be hard, to reveal all his secrets like so. He thought he would have to force himself to speak up, to pull it all from the dark. But everything was right there, simmering right beneath the surface. It wasn't difficult at all. It felt good. Even with the threat of Ari casting him away, it still felt good.
Freeing, he realized.
Each secret was a burden he had to carry. An armor and a sword, yes. Quintessential to his continuous survival, undoubtedly. But also a weight of blood and resentment shackled to his mind, holding him down, suffocating him. It would bring him safety but not the peace. Never the peace.
He told Ari everything he had wanted to say and never had the chance to.
His power was a part of him. No matter how many times people subjected him to the torture they called 'exorcism', it would stay with him, likely to die with him. Despite what everyone else thought, he had no pride for being able to break all natural laws. He had repeatedly tried to suppress it so maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be tormented anymore. It never worked.
His power was a curse and one he had to live with.
So he did. He started to practice, started to learn. He figured out how to control it, regarding it more as a limb and less like a parasite. He learned that he could make things move without touching them. There was the limit of size and weight, of course, but he could do it. He was excited then, feeling like he had discovered all the secrets to the universe. But then Miss Cole found him floating his pillow with his gaze and declared him a demon.
In the aftermath, he had to use his power as a tool. A tool of protection, in the beginning. To push away angry people and to keep the doors closed even when there were no locks in place. But when all his pleas for help, for peace, for anything but pain, landed on deaf ears, his power became a weapon. A monster they kept asking for, so a monster he became.
He had accepted things as they were. He was angry and resentful but he never wasted any of his time on dreams of change when it was clear it would not come true. He still wanted though, he realized. His mind could be controlled. His thoughts and plans could be monitored. But people were not known for being able to control their desires.
Tom had wanted someone to see him. He wanted someone to know all of him so he wouldn't feel like the only real person in his life. Not a day ago he would have called such a wish foolish; suicidal even. But now he could understand why he longed for it.
To let go every part of himself he had to hide was like stepping into the sun after lifetime of nothing but darkness. And the sun's name was Ari.
Whether or not the sun would burn him was entirely up to chance now. He gave up everything he could. He spared her of the gritty details but he knew Ari to be a smart woman. She'd read in-between the lines and she'd know. His hands were not clean. There was more than enough blood on them to warrant a visit to jail, only nine years old or not.
The silence and the wait were suffocating, but not as much as the weight of his secrets and lies.
Tom looked around, nothing the decorative garden Ari had led him into. He was so absorbed in his memories he barely noticed the change in scenery. It consisted mostly of lilies of all sorts arranged artfully and looked beautiful in its simplicity. He tried to commit the imagine into his head in case Ari did send him away.
Really though. He should stop expecting Ari to do the expected.
When he was busy avoiding her eyes, because he was a coward and there was no shame there if you wanted to survive, really, Ari had crossed the distance Tom had put between them. He wanted the safety of that, of the possibility that he could run should things go awry. Ari had let him untangle their hands and skip few steps ahead. Mostly for his comfort than anything else, he would realize later.
But that didn't matter much now.
She disregarded every rule of etiquette and personal space people tried to drum into her and folded the hurting, crying soul in front of her into her arms, pressing every inch of his frail body against hers. So small he was, so thin. She clutched him tighter and felt Tom cling back.
Ari was never the type of person one could call maternal. She was more of the type of a gal to run head-first into whatever challenge laid before her and think of the consequences later. So far in her admittedly short life, it had worked out well for her. But she wasn't stupid enough to claim that most of it didn't rely on luck. Fortune favored the bold, yes?
But for the small thing in her arms though. She'd take the backseat and give the best life could offer to him and him only.
She's admit that when she heard of the appalling torment Tom had been subjected to, she had wondered if it was too late for him. The tales the little men told were of the glorified version of grown people ganging up on a child no older than ten. It mattered little that child could fight back with impossible power and bite until blood spilled, she knew. But she had wondered.
She couldn't feel more ashamed of herself.
Ari had gone to Wool Orphanage to see if the tales they told were true. She was too proud of a woman to allow herself to fall for lies. Still, she had let them paint images in her head and mislead her. She had imagined a being full of hatred and desire for pain. What she got instead was a tiny child embodying the very definition of terrified.
Oh he hid it very well but Ari was Ari. She knew the most pressing of fears was the kind that lurked beneath the surface and never left. So she didn't let the walls Tom put up around him stop her and blundered her way to the heart of the matter. She stole him away from a place that reeked of nothing but despair and hoped for the best.
She didn't actually expect to get the best though. Not until after years of dedicated work, altercations with actual magic and imposed affection.
But here he was, her little secret of magic and keen mind, blossoming under her hands and baring his very being. Others might call Tom ugly, evil even; his mind too sharp and his heart too cold. But Ari would call him beautiful in his resilience and enduring thirst for more.
How strong he was to go against everyone in his life, alone and scared, and come out a survivor.
But being strong did not exempt people from being hurt. This Ari knew better than anyone else. However persevering Tom was, it did not change the fact that he was broken in a way that could never be healed. The trust he put in her was the greatest thing he could give her, she recognized. No one had given up so much to her. Someone could give her a crown of white gold and blood diamonds and she'd reach for Tom still. He was far more important; rarer than any mountain of precious stones.
So she'd be careful with him, as gentle and patient as he needed her to be. He had to be nurtured, cared for, and he'd go farther than anyone else ever did in history. She was absolutely sure of it and Ari always had an eye for successful predictions.
"I'd never turn against you," she swore, on her blood, on her life. "I'd stay loyal to you and you only," she continued, ignoring the almost painful grip Tom had on her. "Whatever path you choose from now on, I'd be right there. To help you, to support you," she said and didn't utter a single false word.
Ari felt something other than the bony hands of a desperate orphan grip her and belatedly realized that the pressure she was experiencing was Tom's magic. The invincible force of nature they talked about in whispers. A gift delivered from hell, people would say. But she thought it was something more divine than anything else.
She tried to touch it, to welcome it. But her hands met nothing but air. Still, she thought her intentions were enough; something buzzed along her skin, as gentle as a kiss and a laugh.
Magic, she thought, what a fascinating thing.
Such a shame I wasn't born with it in this lifetime.
She kissed Tom's temple, more a gust of breath than anything else, and untangled herself from their embrace. She allowed him the dignity of pretending that there were no tear tracks on his cheeks and clasped his fingers between hers.
"You make it sound like you're my royal subject," he told her, his smile wry but raw and honest. Ari chuckled when she realized that she did indeed sound like a knight swearing their allegiance to their king.
"That'd make you a royal then," she replied, only half-joking. With his pale blue eyes and refined features, Tom was certainly beautiful enough to be considered an aristocrat if one ignored his background. For all she knew he could be a bastard child of one. Certainly he carried himself with more dignity and resolve than most adults Ari knew.
Once the thought took hold, it didn't recede.
Lady Arianne Jezebel Peverell, the scandalous wildling daughter of late Lord Peverell. The self-proclaimed businesswoman and bachelorette for life. Collector of the indecent, the criminals and the deviants. All the titles she was quite proud of, thank you very much. She'd just add 'kingmaker' to the list.
With his impossible power and determination, she was fairly sure he'd make it. It might take years, maybe even decades, but they had time. If nothing else, they'd have time and their spirit. It was enough when she was a servant girl, suddenly forced into emerald dress and heavy jewelry. It would enough for him too.
"Well then, my little Emperor," she said and gave a mock bow, deliberately too low. Tom made an irritated noise and tugged her up by her hand. She laughed in response, more delighted by his disgruntled expression that she should be. Truly, how come she had never noticed it before? He was acting like a highborn lord, irritated just so by her little games.
"If I was an Emperor, I would never make you bow," Tom told her, as serious as a heart attack. "Maybe I'd see everyone else plaster themselves to the ground," he contemplated darkly. That would certainly bring him satisfaction. Every person he feared in his life, brought to their knees and forced to beg. It would indeed be a great pleasure to witness. Ari on the other hand...
"But you, Lady Arianne, need only to stand next to me," he said, beyond caring that his words were a double-edged sword. A threat, a jest, bordering on a blood oath he read about in books of legends. She had promised him her presence, to the bitter end. If she delivered, he'd work out how to make her the happiest woman on Earth.
If she didn't… There'd be blood and he'd know better than to trust anyone, ever again.
"Well I did promise, didn't I? I never go back on my word. It would be for shame," she reassured him, somehow taking his plea for what it was. She ran her hands through his hair, once, the way she did in the very beginning. Then, very determined to get out of such deep conversation, she walked in the direction of her home and tried to pick up the light banter they had going on before.
"I demand you to stop all this 'Lady' stuff," she said, all haughty and offended like a princess who stepped into an animal farm. Without skipping a beat Tom mirrored her words, "I would the moment you stop all this 'Little Emperor' stuff."
Ari laughed, loud and free, incautious in a way no one was around Tom Riddle, the witch child. She pretended to think for a moment. Tom simply looked on, serene and calm, maybe for the first time in his life.
With great mock-reluctance she muttered, "I shall be Lady Ari then."
"So it would be, my Lady Ari," he promptly replied. Ari shook her head, still smiling widely, "I didn't know you could be so snarky, my little Emperor. It's quite a delight to discover."
And on it went. The two of them playing the role of a young emperor and his favored lady. The walk to the manor was surprisingly long, Tom suspected that Ari took a few detours, but not at all uncomfortable. It was filled with nothing but easy conversation and moments of laughter. Tom was content.
He wasn't afraid. The oppressing pressure of fear was gone, banished to the back of his memories. Sure, there was still the threat of Ari betraying him and cutting into the deepest parts of his heart but. Right in that moment, when they finally came upon her home's doors and saw the butler from earlier waiting for them with lunch, Tom felt light. And Ari could tell.
She knew that personal demons never died within a day and that they would come back from day to day and explode in a fit of rage and ill-thought words. Adding magic into that mix would be disastrous, she was sure. Still, she had promised to follow him until the end so that would be exactly what she would do.
Her little Emperor, she thought with dry humor, make the world bow down to us wretched orphans, wouldn't you?
A stray wish, faithless and empty, but one that would come true against all the odds.
Again. To everyone who've reviewed: thank you. You all know how to make me smile.