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morganofthewildfire · 1 year

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Same Time Thursday - Aelin's Answer

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Part 2 to this outtake here, picks up directly where it leaves off

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Her mom looked concerned, but didn’t question it as she led her into the room at the back of the hallway: their library. Elia had always felt at home around books, something she knew she’d inherited from the woman right next to her.

“What is it, sweetheart?” her mom asked as she sat down on the comfy couch in the corner, tucked behind bookshelves to make it a cozy little reading corner. Elia sat down next to her, some space in between that felt like miles. “What’s wrong?”

She sucked in a shaky breath, fighting the tears that were threatening her once again. She thought she’d be all out of them after her conversation with her dad, but apparently not.

“How do you do it?” Elia chose to ask, the words escaping in a rush. Her mom’s golden brows furrowed as she tried to puzzle out what the real question was. “How do you keep going?”

Her face relaxed, and she nodded, her lips pursed. She wasn’t relaxed, Elia wanted to amend, but she clearly understood what Elia was trying to say.

“Well,” her mom said, sucking in a shaky breath. “It’s been fifteen years, it’s gotten easier to compartmentalize.” She smiled a bit, reaching over to pat Elia’s knee. “Having all of you helps more than you can imagine.”

“How?” Elia asked, her voice nearly a whisper. Her face was scrunched up tightly, her throat tight. “Don’t I look like him?”

Her mother’s blue eyes looked suspiciously shiny as she processed what to say. At least that’s what Elia thought she was doing. Because she already knew the answer - yes.

“You have the same hair,” her mom answered, and Elia appreciated the honesty. “You scrunch your nose the same way he used to, and sometimes,” she paused, “when you tilt your head, it reminds me a little bit of him.” Elia’s gut sank, and she looked away, out at the shelves lining the room. “But I’m not telling you this to make you upset,” her mom added, knowing Elia’s train of thought.

She glanced back over at her mom, meeting the blue eyes that were so similar to her own.

“You have my eyes,” her mom said quietly, the words a reflection of her own thoughts. “And my freckles, and my height.” Her lips rose a bit. “You don’t have my smile, but you don’t have his either. It’s perfectly your own.” She reached out to grab Elia’s hand. “Just like you’re perfectly your own person.”

A pause.

“Is that something you’re worried about?” Her mom continued, her face open and understanding. All Elia could do was shrug, not meeting her mom’s gaze.

It was always comforting, but it was piercing.

“I was talking to dad about it,” she said, “and after, he said I should talk to you.” She fidgeted on the couch, fiddling with the cover of the book she’d left on the side table earlier that week. “It’s hard - not to care.”

Another moment of silence as her mom nodded, letting go of her hand and leaning back into the couch. In that moment, curled on the cushions in her jeans and sweater, she looked young.

“I get that,” her mom replied, again with that openness that let Elia know her words were genuine. She was trying to be honest, and talk to her with the respect she’d give another adult. She wasn’t treating Elia like a kid, like her baby.

It meant more than Elia could explain.

“I still go to therapy,” her mom admitted, no hint of self consciousness on her face. Elia blinked in surprise. “I only go about once a month now, but back when you were little there was a period where I’d go multiple times a week.” She shifted to fully face Elia. “Talking it out really helps. And not with me or your dad, though we’re always here for you. But having someone else to talk to really helps you process everything, if you’d be interested.”

Elia let the idea of it settle into her head. She’d never considered therapy before, but she wondered if it’d be beneficial. She didn’t really think she had real problems, but at the same time, she doubted there were many other sixteen year old girls in the same situation as her.

Fourteen.

The word rang in her head and she nearly flinched, nausea swirling in her gut. Two years younger than she was now.

Her dad’s reaction had only confirmed her suspicions - that wasn’t a wound that could easily heal.

“Did you…” Elia trailed off, her heart pounding as she decided if she should even ask or not. “Did you remember meeting him when you were fourteen?” Her mom’s face fell, and her heart raced more as she fought to amend her words. “I know in your article you said you didn’t, but did you?”

Elia was trembling slightly, but her mom just took a deep breath before smiling encouragingly and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I really don’t know,” her mom said, her voice shaking a bit. She glanced away, her brows furrowing. “My first instinct is that I didn’t, but I can’t help but thank at the same time that I did. At least to a certain extent.” Her lip wobbled. “I was in such a bad place when I met him again I think I was clinging to whatever familiarity I had left in the whirlwind I was in.”

Elia tucked her feet up under her, curling her toes into the fabric of the couch. She couldn’t imagine. Losing her parents like that, being expected to live on her own for the first time ever while dealing with a worsening alcohol problem and a man who was taking advantage of her however he could.

And she was a product of that mess.

“Dad said,” Elia said slowly, “that you went back to him to protect me. How…” she trailed off again. Her mom sat up straighter, lifting her chin a bit.

“I did,” she said. “He’d twisted the situation to make it so I’d lose custody of you, despite everything. And he threatened to do just that if I didn’t - “ she sucked in a breath - “go back to Rifthold.” She shook her head. “I knew he would probably just ignore you, but I couldn’t take that chance. I couldn’t forgive myself if I ever put you in that situation.”

“What was it like?” Elia whispered, and she could see her mom’s hands trembling. She wrung them together. Elia had read a bit of it in the article, but those were filtered words. She wanted to hear it directly from her mom, however painful it would be.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” Her mom asked, looking away.

“I’m sixteen, mom,” Elia replied, “I’m not a child.” Her mom nodded her head absently.

“You’re my child,” she said, though. But Elia just countered with -

“And I’m his child, too.”

It was a bit of a low blow, and her mom’s face paled a bit, but she nodded again before sighing. Elia offered her hand for comfort, and her mom took it easily, squeezing it once. Just like her dad had.

“Well,” she began, her face a bit pinched. “I pretty much just felt helpless. That’s the best word I can use to describe it. I had no real control over getting myself into the situation, and then I had no real way of getting out.”

Elia’s body felt cold, and she wondered if she really wanted to hear this. She already knew all she really needed to know.

“I don’t think it’s possible to explain how much of myself I lost during that time,” her mom continued, looking a bit lost to the world. “I didn’t get any of it back until I knew I was having you. And even then, it was a struggle. But you gave me my fight back, and it was you who got us both out.”

Elia felt a strange aching in her chest, a stronger emotion than she really knew how to contain.

“Rowan is a much better dad than he could’ve ever been,” her mom whispered, shaking her head. “I’m glad he’s dead. I’ve been glad he’s dead for fifteen years.” It was strange hearing her dad’s first name like that. It was strange thinking of them in the context of Rowan and Aelin, and not mom and dad.

But she supposed they were both at the same time.

“Do you,” her mom asked hesitantly, looking back at her. “Remember anything from when you were at that house? I know you were probably too young, but I’ve always wondered.” Always worried, her mom didn’t need to say.

Elia hesitated, but shook her head.

“I’ve thought about it,” she answered honestly, “but I think the only ‘memories’ I have are just my imagination. It’s just not there.” She didn’t think she imagined her mom’s expression of relief.

“Good,” she said, “I’m glad. You don’t need to remember that.”

“Well,” Elia interrupted, tilting her head. There was something slight in there. “I think I remember you singing to me.”

Her mom didn’t seem concerned. “I used to sing to you quite often.”

“But you were bleeding,” Elia added, and her mom’s face fell. “There was blood dripping down from your nose, and there was red all over your skin, but you were still smiling down at me.” Elia was nearly lost in the faint memory she had. “No matter how much I know you were struggling, you were always smiling at me.”

Her mom sniffed, her blue eyes glossy. “I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head. Her voice was thick. “I’m so sorry you remember that.”

“No,” Elia insisted, reaching for her with both hands. She leaned forward a bit. “No. Don’t be sorry. You did your damn best with the situation you had, and I love you so much for it, mom. You’re my role model.”

“Don’t curse,” her mom teased, tears pouring down her face. Before pulling her into a tight hug. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Elia relaxed into her mom’s arms, forever comforted by her warm hug. She felt tears in her own eyes too, and she knew that they could have a much longer conversation, they could talk for hours about this. And someday they would.

But she was emotionally exhausted. First her conversation with her dad, and now this.

A soft rapping rang against the door, and they both turned to see her dad poking his head into the library, a soft smile on his face. “Hey, you two,” he said. “Dinner’s ready.”

Her mom sniffed away her tears, wiping her face and smiling over at her husband. “Have you wrangled the hellions?” She asked, making Elia giggle. Her mom winked at her.

“They’re both in their chairs ready for food,” her dad said, with a little bow. And her mom applauded him dramatically before uncurling herself and standing up to head toward the exit. Elia stood up and followed her, watching as her mom looped her arm through her dad’s, leaning her head against his arm.

A small smile curled on Elia’s face at the sight, a peace settling in her that she hadn’t felt since she’d first typed the name Arobynn Hamel earlier that day.

Maybe her family wasn’t conventional, and maybe Elia still had a lot to work through because of that. But she had two parents who loved her, and who loved each other, and that was enough to be grateful for.

She’d worry about the rest later. For now, she was just ready to sit down and eat a nice meal with her family. However rambunctious they may be.

-----

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streamsofstardust · 11 months

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tal's take on sacred the thread

ok now that i've listened to sacred the song, here are my thoughts that not a single person asked for:

i figured josh was joking when he said the song was about his jumpsuits and i think to an extent it is a joke but also not entirely.

lyrics on a surface level do make it seem like the song is just about their outfits, mostly josh and danny in my opinion and i'll get back to that in a second.

if we go deeper than just what's being said, and actually put it in perspective with something they've been trying to express for a while now, to me the song is more about the freedom of individuality and self expression through their physical on stage appearance as a rock band. i mean obviously there's a huge difference between the vibe of the highway tune music video and what they were wearing and the meeting the master music video and what they've been wearing for the last two ish years, again, more specifically josh and danny.

when you think of a typical rock band, one with clear influences from past bands, you expect to see what we saw with highway tune for the most part. you don't expect skin tight velvet bodysuits covered in rhinestones, rhinestones on their faces and elaborate eye makeup, vibrant feather boas, etc. i think a lot of us just expect something similar to like guns n roses. tee shirt and jeans or leather pants (like i said, highway tune) but that's not what they do anymore.

i think the way they all dress on stage now definitely goes hand in hand with their own comfort on stage as they've grown as artists. josh, who used to look up at the ceiling when he'd sing. jake, who once wasn't able to face the crowd. sam, who was shocked to find out that people cared about the instruments he played and his own talents and skills. and daniel. my sweet, incredible daniel, who still to this day gets shit for being in the band and is seen by some as being replaceable (he isn't, obviously, but that's a topic for a different post).

now they've moved past the fear of having to prove themselves. they did the work, they put in the time and effort, they made a name for themselves, and now they're playing madison square garden. they're big, they're well known, well respected not only by us as fans but by artists that came before them. they're comfortable, and in that comfort, they've reached a period where they can dress however they want and it doesn't take away from who they are as musicians, because like i said, they've proven how good they are.

this is what i was referring to at the beginning of this post where i mentioned something they've been trying to express for a while. that being, they don't need to dress a certain way because of the music they play. they aren't any less of a rock band for wearing gemstones and glitter and makeup. rock and metal artists like mötley crüe, kiss, bowie, the new york dolls, twisted sister, poison, and ratt all wore makeup and elaborate wild outfits. it didn't take away from who they were/are as musicians, and it didn't make their music any less of the genre it was.

it all comes down to self expression and it's really lovely to see greta van fleet be another band to find the look they like. bringing something inherently feminine doesn't make them less masculine, there's a balance, and i've talked about this before.

this is also why i think i'm finding it hard to not associate josh and danny with the song the most. while each of them obviously plays a part in it - and now jake and sam have branched out with their looks and are including some makeup - josh and danny are really the ones we think about when it comes to this. josh has gone from simple stones, to more elaborate designs and now actual eye makeup (the gold on his eyes was so cool I'm obsessed with it) and danny has done the same, even getting to the point of wearing more makeup than josh until a bit recently. and we've also seen danny at least wear eyeliner when he's not on stage, just when he's out with friends which i think is really cool. all of that playing into the idea that they've found comfort in a style and a look that they didn't have or maybe didn't even consider when they first got started.

on a different note (pun perhaps intended), i don't quite see where this song falls in the general idea of continuing the story and the world building we've seen since from the fires. i'm not sure if it's even meant to, but of course, that won't be fully determined until the rest of the album is released, and once it is i fully intend to pick it apart and evaluate it not just as an individual album, but as a part of the entire discography.

anyway that was a lot and if you didn't read it i don't blame you. if you did read it feel free to talk more about it with me.

#tal's take #sacred the thread #stt #gvf stt #gvf sacred the thread #gvf starcatcher

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