Ruthivan listened to his wife reading the same passage over and over again. If she kept reading it, she'd finally get it and understand. He'd drill it into her head by rote force of will. She had to understand -there was no leaving, or going away, or breaking their bond. There were doing what was proper and right, they were ensuring the survival of their people and their people's heritage. This was right.
He watched her flames die and his heart clenched in agony. It was the final end, the way he knew all of Claire's happiness had dried up and vanished like a dandelion seed in a tornado. This was not what he wanted. He wanted the Claire he'd known for three hundred years - the one with beautiful lilac flames that licked and flowed around her skin. The one with bright eyes of sparkling amethyst, a coquettish smile, and softly spoken words. That was what he had been promised by her parents ages ago. But this all was his fault. He helped her go on adventures those many years ago. He helped her get her head wrapped up in a world to which they didn't belong.
Ruthivan watched her reading, every word coming from her mouth dry and caked with apathy. The Claire he wanted was in there, but buried so far down even he couldn't reach in and drag her out. She finished with the passage and turned to look at him. "Do you want me to read it again?" she asked.
He was struck by the sudden urge to cry out. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was that she hurt, that he was only doing this for her own good. He wanted her to understand, but he knew that his care would fall on a soul beyond his touch. He would have to do something. "Would you like to take a walk with me?" he asked, extending what he hoped was an olive branch, a beginning.
"I think I just want to lay down."
"Claire, you just woke up not an hour ago."
"Do you want me to take a walk with you?"
"I want you to want it," he said, his frustration rising.
"I will do whatever you want me to do."
Ruthivan got hold of himself and stared at Claire, who looked back at him with a deadness in her gaze. He would have given almost anything to see a spark of life there, but what would return that spark would be his losing her. He'd rather have her dead inside than give her up to the world. At least he could work to bring her back and eventually see her happy again. This was only a temporary setback. Once she learned the way things worked, she would return to herself and be happy again. Yes. He wouldn't leave her side. He'd be there every step of the way, all for her and their family. He put on the only smile he could find in him and touched her cheek. "Come. Let's walk. Then, perhaps we can have your mother come for a visit, or your father." He held back his rage when she answered with an indifferent shrug.
