[Clive's gentle touches come with equally gentle tingles that rise all the way to Jill's scalp, and she exhales, content, before reaching to tilt his face towards her for another kiss. She smiles into it before pulling away, enjoying the simplicity of being held. Time shifts into something languid and relaxed, and she knows she could easily lose the entire day to this mood, soft and slow and sweet as it is.
Maybe they can't have children here. Maybe they never will. The thought that they might is nice all the same, and she carries it forwards without getting bogged down in all the buts that would arise if she'd let them.]
And you for a father. I can see the effects of your love on Joshua even now, and I know that our children will be blessed in much the same way.
[Little Randolph and Sliver Mae Rosfield both. The names sound even better in Clive's voice than they did in her mind. And when he offers up Hanna as an option, she's all too happy to follow suit.]
If there's a Hanna, then there ought to be a Rodney, too.
[A moment's pause follows as Jill considers other names. Her own thoughts travel to Elwin – to how, for all his shortcomings, he still gave her a better life than most in his position would have. And even if she'd never really seen him as a father, she can acknowledge all the same that he'd treated her as his daughter. There are some things about him she'll never be able to accept, but nothing that leads her to believe that he doesn't deserve the same treatment as her father, should Clive desire to grant it to him.
So, her next question isn't a concession. It's no trade of one namesake for another. It's asked in earnest, in a tone that's soft and warm with a melancholic lilt.]
Would you like to honour your father as well? I wouldn't mind bringing a second Elwin into the world, or maybe an Eli or a Winnie.
Knowing how the absence of a parent’s love can affect a child, how could I do anything less than give my own all of mine that I can? They deserve nothing less.
[ The thought of Rodney Murdoch is still a painful one for Clive—the fact that it was he himself that was responsible for the death of someone he respected so much, and the pain and fear that Lord Murdoch must have experienced in his last moments as Ifrit’s flames consumed him. Ever since he’d come to terms with the fact that he was that second Dominant of Fire that he’d hunted for so long, the weight of that death and many others has sat heavily upon his shoulders.
He doesn’t show it on his face, though, beyond a moment of pensive silence and a nod. ]
Rodney Rosfield. It would be fitting.
[ Her next question is one that gives him pause. Ironic that Joshua had asked him a similar question not too long ago. Did he want to honor his father? Of course he does, but he tempers his response. ]
If we have that many children, then perhaps. I don’t want you to feel that you must simply because you wouldn’t mind it. And… there are so many feelings already attached to that name—I would not wish for a child of ours to feel beholden to the past because of the regard I hold for my father.
[The mood shifts ever slightly, but Jill hardly minds. Happiness is reduced to something ordinary when it's all one knows, and this new tone doesn't make her any less comfortable. So she finds Clive's hands. Laces her fingers between his. Tilts her face to press the gentlest of kisses to his neck.
It's difficult for her to relate to his feelings regarding Rodney. She can't begin to see it as his responsibility, since she knows, at the very least, that he wasn't in control. What that means, however, is lost to her; Shiva's never done the same in her body, always yielding to Jill's command. Except the first time, but Jill was in fetters before she could prime, then, and she remembers little of the rest.
Instead of dwelling on that part of her past, she focuses in on what Clive says about his father. On how he doesn't want her to she feel that she must. She squeezes his hands and relaxes a bit more against him with a soft exhale.]
So much of what I've done in life has been because I'd convinced myself that it must be done. I've thought a lot over the last five years about how different everything might have been if only I'd stood my ground, or... I don't know. What I mean to say is you freed me from that, and I won't disrespect all you've done by doing things for you because I feel I must.
[It's not just for his sake, though. The moment she starts looking at Clive and finding ways to obligate herself to him is the moment she's lost herself again.]
If honouring his name doesn't suit you, we'll find some other way for him to live on through us, because it's important to me that you and our children have that.
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no subject
Maybe they can't have children here. Maybe they never will. The thought that they might is nice all the same, and she carries it forwards without getting bogged down in all the buts that would arise if she'd let them.]
And you for a father. I can see the effects of your love on Joshua even now, and I know that our children will be blessed in much the same way.
[Little Randolph and Sliver Mae Rosfield both. The names sound even better in Clive's voice than they did in her mind. And when he offers up Hanna as an option, she's all too happy to follow suit.]
If there's a Hanna, then there ought to be a Rodney, too.
[A moment's pause follows as Jill considers other names. Her own thoughts travel to Elwin – to how, for all his shortcomings, he still gave her a better life than most in his position would have. And even if she'd never really seen him as a father, she can acknowledge all the same that he'd treated her as his daughter. There are some things about him she'll never be able to accept, but nothing that leads her to believe that he doesn't deserve the same treatment as her father, should Clive desire to grant it to him.
So, her next question isn't a concession. It's no trade of one namesake for another. It's asked in earnest, in a tone that's soft and warm with a melancholic lilt.]
Would you like to honour your father as well? I wouldn't mind bringing a second Elwin into the world, or maybe an Eli or a Winnie.
no subject
[ The thought of Rodney Murdoch is still a painful one for Clive—the fact that it was he himself that was responsible for the death of someone he respected so much, and the pain and fear that Lord Murdoch must have experienced in his last moments as Ifrit’s flames consumed him. Ever since he’d come to terms with the fact that he was that second Dominant of Fire that he’d hunted for so long, the weight of that death and many others has sat heavily upon his shoulders.
He doesn’t show it on his face, though, beyond a moment of pensive silence and a nod. ]
Rodney Rosfield. It would be fitting.
[ Her next question is one that gives him pause. Ironic that Joshua had asked him a similar question not too long ago. Did he want to honor his father? Of course he does, but he tempers his response. ]
If we have that many children, then perhaps. I don’t want you to feel that you must simply because you wouldn’t mind it. And… there are so many feelings already attached to that name—I would not wish for a child of ours to feel beholden to the past because of the regard I hold for my father.
no subject
It's difficult for her to relate to his feelings regarding Rodney. She can't begin to see it as his responsibility, since she knows, at the very least, that he wasn't in control. What that means, however, is lost to her; Shiva's never done the same in her body, always yielding to Jill's command. Except the first time, but Jill was in fetters before she could prime, then, and she remembers little of the rest.
Instead of dwelling on that part of her past, she focuses in on what Clive says about his father. On how he doesn't want her to she feel that she must. She squeezes his hands and relaxes a bit more against him with a soft exhale.]
So much of what I've done in life has been because I'd convinced myself that it must be done. I've thought a lot over the last five years about how different everything might have been if only I'd stood my ground, or... I don't know. What I mean to say is you freed me from that, and I won't disrespect all you've done by doing things for you because I feel I must.
[It's not just for his sake, though. The moment she starts looking at Clive and finding ways to obligate herself to him is the moment she's lost herself again.]
If honouring his name doesn't suit you, we'll find some other way for him to live on through us, because it's important to me that you and our children have that.