Brittle Pride

Writers: Bree, Eimi
Date Posted: 6th January 2007

Characters: Almonteo, Carmora
Description: Almonteo decides its time to talk to his wife about what happened at the party
Location: Harper Hall
Date: month 1, day 4 of Turn 4

Almonteo

The Hallmaster shifted to his right side facing the back of the sofa.
No, that didn't feel right. He turned onto his other side and snuggled his back against the cushions. After five minutes of wriggling around and trying to find the right position he decided that this was ridiculous. Sleep was as far off as it had been a candlemark before.
It wasn't the sofa as much as it was the guilt. The old stabbing guilt that never quite left. Carmora saw to that.

He couldn't blame her, he reminded himself. There was only himself who was at fault for his transgression. This was his punishment. It truly was a small price to pay. He could have lost his love forever. He could have missed the lives of his children. It was quite possible that he would pay for that one-night stand for the rest of his life. What absolutely killed him, though, was the knowledge that his wife had to pay for it too. Starring up at the ceiling he could feel tears stinging his eyes. **My poor Carmora. What did I do to you?**

She was awake, he was sure of that. He wondered if she was thinking about it too. Considering the cold shoulder she had shown him the past few days, it was probably foremost in her mind. Almonteo had given her a few days to seethe and fume. It was her right. She had her pride after all. Now, he decided they had enough. It was time to break the silence.

"Carmora," he said softly as he opened the door to their sleeping chamber. Almonteo knew he had to walk carefully. She was still upset.
If provoked, she close herself off to him again. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Her reply was a long time coming, and spoken in a tight, cold voice. "If you must."

He lightly perched on the bed side. "I think I understand why you were so angry at that brownrider."

There were so many things she wanted to say, but she confined herself to a short, "Oh?"

"Yes." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This conversation had the potential to go all wrong... "I think when you were looking at him, you might have been seeing _her_. The woman I... spent that night with, I mean."

Carmora didn't want to admit the truth in that, so she clung to her anger and let the edge of sarcasm creep into her voice. "I rather hope she was at least a _little_ prettier than him."

"It was not the Weyr's fault, Carmora. They didn't fail you. I did."

"And the Weyr isn't to blame for Larken. Or Ailewyn. Or any of the others." Her voice was weary. "Perhaps you should blame Eilomar and Ojisan for not keeping control of their wives, or blame me for not being enough to satisfy you."

"Or maybe you should just blame me for having been a weak man. It's not as though I didn't know the difference between right and wrong."

"But that's the point, Almonteo." She sat up in the bed, eyes finding him in the darkness. "The Weyr doesn't have the same definition of right and wrong. How much easier is it to chose the wrong path when everyone around you is so quick to tell you that it's not wrong at all? Do you think _any_ of us will be able to know the difference between right and wrong after a few turns here?"

"First of all, this is only a _temporary_ home. Each Hatching the Weyr has brings it closer to the point it will need these rooms back. We won't be here Turns."

"And when we leave?" She had to struggle to keep the yearning from her voice at that. Shards, how she wanted to be someplace _comfortable_!
"Will any place be comfortable accepting us when our members have so little sense of what is right?"

"They are taught what is right, Carmora. They _know_ what is right. It has been drummed into them since they were small children." Most of them were just like her - looking at the Weyr and its people with scorn and disdain for their wicked ways. Surely she couldn't think she was the only tower of virtue left in the Hall. "They won't forget. _I_
won't forget."

"Then I suppose all I can do is stop my meddling and let things happen as they must." After all, he'd made it quite clear what her place was.
"Is that all you wanted? Because I'm tired."

"I want to finish this so I can come back to my bed again. I want you to stop being angry at me."

"I'm not angry with you," she replied tightly. And it was the truth.
Anger had come and gone swiftly, replaced with a deep hurt that he could dismiss her concerns so easily and dismiss her so sharply. Admitting it was the hard part.

"Then what is it?" he asked, reached for her hand tentatively.

She pulled her hand away, wrapping both arms around herself protectively. "You dismissed my concerns and grabbed my arm hard enough to leave bruises, and then ordered me to obey you as if I were a misbehaving child. You belittled me, and I have given up too much to deserve that from you."

"And you wouldn't listen why I tried to ask you to drop it. I have to maintain the peace between the Weyr and the Hall and its already hanging by a thread. You can have your concerns, but bring them to me before you confront the whole Weyr on its immorality." He sighed, seeing the sofa looming off in his future once again. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry. But I couldn't have you making trouble, and that was where it was heading."

Carmora stiffened. "I hardly confronted the whole Weyr. I talked to _one_ man, and you're making me sound like some sort of hysterical fool."

"It starts with one. A small spark can start a great fire. We are _guests_ here. If we can't make it work between the Hall and Weyr then they have every right to ask us to leave." And then where would they go? Back to Emerald Falls with a Lord Holder who was half mad?

Tears stung at her eyes as she turned away from him. "You're not trying to finish this fight. You're trying to _win_ it. If all you're interested in is making me admit that you were right to do what you did, then perhaps you should go back out to your couch. I already agreed to obey you, but I will not agree to _enjoy_ it."

He laid a hand gently on her shoulder. "I'm not asking you to enjoy it. I'm asking you to understand. I didn't want to hurt you. I certainly don't like hurting you." "You're asking me to _agree_," she replied in a shaky voice. "I agreed not to do it again, and that is all you can have. I don't have anything else left." Shards, he hated to hear her so broken. "Then I'm asking you to forgive me for hurting you."

Carmora gave up the battle against tears, covering her face with her hands as the first sob shook her body. "I forgive you..." She had to.
She had no one else.

"Don't cry, love," her husband whispered as he wrapped his arms around her. "I never wanted to hurt you. I'm very sorry I did. Please don't cry so."

The last of her brittle pride crumbled as she curled into her husband's arms and sobbed.

Last updated on the January 6th 2007

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Brittle Pride