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The Magic Box [Tuesday]

It was hard, coming back here after last Thursday. Celia was both pleased and deeply embarrassed to see how much of her mess had already been cleaned up, though it did make things easier, today.

She was glad that her powers were back in full effect, at least, since she was determined to make sure the shop was absolutely impeccable. It was the very least she could do, really. As it was, she owed Rinoa and Squall a fruit basket or something, too.

She started at the top, since any dust on shelves would fall lower. So it was a floating, humbled, and still-slightly-stiff Celia who was working today, though she'd drop back down to the ground if anyone came in.

[open, lacking in OCD, and SP while I'm at work, whoo! ETA: contents of the thread with Ichabod are NFB and will be dealing with abuse.]

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Ichabod hadn't seen Celia since last week. He had taken a walk into town after his class, and when he saw her through the window, floating to reach the top shelves, he stopped and didn't even notice that he was smiling.

He entered the shop. "Celia?"

Celia beamed at him over her shoulder before dropping neatly to the ground with a happy, "Ichabod!" That was much less restrained than she probably would have liked, but after the last week, she didn't especially care.

She found her dignity quickly enough, though. "Hello," she said, brushing her hair off her face and smoothing her skirt down. "How are you?"

Ichabod closed the door behind him, smiling warmly at Celia. Her greeting had made him blush slightly.

"I am quite well, thank you, and what about yourself?" He took a few steps towards her.

Celia opened her mouth to say she was fine, but reconsidered. The impulse to pretend last week hadn't happened was still very strong, but she knew he deserved to know the things she'd been deliberately avoiding discussing, now -- particularly considering how the challenge impacted her future.

"Better than I have been," she said carefully, shyly taking a step towards him, as well. "I managed to injure myself with magic quite badly last week, but I'm better and wiser for it. It's wonderful to see you."

She meant it. She was in better spirits than she'd been for a week, even if she was dreading telling him about her father.

His smile faded and turned into a slight frown, and he reached out a hand towards her. "Celia? What happened?"

She took his hand, consciously doing so with her scarred one. "It's a rather long story, and I'm afraid it's...it's to do with the things I've rather not wanted to tell you. But I really think I have to tell you. It's only fair that you know, about all of it."

Celia hated that he was probably going to think differently about her, once he knew.

"The short version is that I tried to break the magic binding me to the challenge that I mentioned," she said quietly, glancing up at him. "It didn't work."

Ichabod nodded slowly, squeezing her hand, a finger running across the scar that he had noticed before. "I am sorry," he said. "And I will listen. I would very much like to hear it." The fact that she had avoided telling him about whatever it was made him a little nervous, and he wasn't quite sure of why.

Celia looked down at their joined hands, worrying her lower lip a bit. "There are three things that are absolutely vital to know to understand my father and what kind of situation I'm in," she said softly, swallowing nervously. "The first is that he had no knowledge of my existence until my mother's death, and he never wanted a child. I'm the product of a two-week love affair between my parents, and my father hadn't thought of her at all until I turned up on his doorstep with a note pinned to my coat. He only decided to keep me after I broke a teacup with magic, because he'd insulted my mother."

She felt her cheeks heating up -- it was one thing to insinuate her low birth, but another entirely to speak frankly about it. Though she did think that this was the easiest way to break the news -- best to start with the emotional abuse and lead from there.

Ichabod had assumed that she wasn't entirely proud of her theatrical background, but he certainly understood that to having been born out of wedlock was a heavier burden.

"That hardly gives me reason to think well of your father," he said, not letting go of her hand. He might have considered it not entirely proper of her mother either, but there was no reason to point that out.

Celia raised a brow. If he already didn't think well of her father, she could only imagine how the rest of this would go.

"I don't think particularly well of him, either," she said, mildly. "The second thing to know about my father is that in addition to being the sort of person who would turn away a small child, he is also extraordinarily proud, and very competitive. So shortly after I entered his care, he met with an old rival of his, and orchestrated a decade-spanning magical competition. Each man would train an apprentice, and someday the two would meet and it would be determined who was the better magician by the strength of their pupil."

That was the worst of it, really. It was never to be her victory, but Hector's.

She turned her hand over in his, lifting her ring finger. "I was bound to the challenge using a magic ring that was burned into my skin. And the magic I ended up hurting myself doing last week was to try to break the contract that bound me to the challenge, with the help of another magic user, but...it failed. So I'm still stuck with it, and at some point I will have to face an opponent, and I have no idea what the stakes may really be."

Ichabod was silent for a moment before responding, then said: "I can understand why this is a matter of which you would rather not speak. To treat your own child like a pawn in a game!" He closed both his hands around her fingers and met her gaze. "I know I can offer you no assistance or comfort in this, but with all my heart, I wish I could. Fate has not been kind to you, Celia. But thank you for telling me this."

"You're plenty of comfort," Celia corrected, shaking her head. She still hadn't told him the worst part, and she was sure her nerves were showing all over her face. "Ichabod, no -- I'm not telling you to...garner pity, or anything like that. I just -- I feel that you need to be informed, if you...still want to be involved with me. Particularly since I can't get out of it, and particularly because the last thing you should know about my father is that he is utterly ruthless and will sacrifice anything to win."

She glanced over at the door, and the lock clicked shut, just in case. "But since it's not him competing, I'm the one who has had to make sacrifices."

"I would never take you for someone looking to be pitied," Ichabod said quickly. "Should your father be here I might very well rant at him for treating his daughter in such a way, but I have no wish to make matters worse for you." He paused. "You are certain, then, that there is no way?"

"I've tried," she said quietly, though she smiled a little. "And as touched as I am, that you'd take my father to task on my behalf...please don't. Even if you should meet him someday, even if you're granted a perfect opportunity, I just -- he would hurt you, Ichabod. He thinks nothing of hurting people, just to make a point. And I couldn't stand that, if something happened to you."

There had been enough bones broken at Hector's hand, already.

He nodded, but that wasn't quite a promise, was it?

"And you know nothing more about this competition?"

She shook her head. "For all I know, you're my opponent," she said with a shrug. "I mean, of course you're not, but...that's all I know. If I had to hedge my bets, I'd say my father knows full well when it'll start in earnest, or he wouldn't have sent me away to train. But he hasn't seen fit to keep me informed, and honestly, I was too glad to escape his training to ask too many questions."

Celia sighed, her shoulders sagging a little. "Is this...too much? I'm sorry. I just felt you should know, just -- in case something should happen. But I understand if it's all just too...odd, or unmanageable, or...whatever to you."

She'd understand, but she'd be heartbroken, if she was honest with herself.

"It is... hard to understand," Ichabod said, frowning a little. "A competition against an unknown opponent, at an unknown point in time." He wasn't even clear what he felt himself, other than that Celia deserved better than this and that he wished he could help her. Or that he could shout at her father and possibly punch him. He tensed a little, holding back that anger.

"I know you didn't tell me this because you needed me to help you, but I wish I could. But if enjoying our mutual interests and each other's company makes a difference to you I will at least be content."

"It means the world to me," Celia confessed quietly, biting her lower lip as she looked down. "That's why I needed to tell you. I've...I care about you, Ichabod, and I care about what you think of me, and that's why I've taken so long to tell you -- having a father who has treated me the way that mine has isn't exactly something one wishes to share with someone they admire. But because of how I feel, and the fact that the challenge is inescapable...I had to tell you. There's more to it -- more about my father, and how I learned to use my magic, but that's all the important stuff. And if it doesn't change our relationship, then I feel very silly for being so afraid to share it with you."

'Silly' was one way to put how she felt. 'Breathlessly relieved' might be more accurate, though.

"Celia," Ichabod said, "Thank you for telling me." He leaned in to kiss her lightly.

The unfairness of what she had told him still bothered Ichabod, but the trust Celia had expressed in telling him countered that somewhat.

[Sorry for extreme SP. Midsummer!]

"Thank you for listening," she replied softly, reading up to gently touch his cheek. "And not...running away, for lack of a better term."

[no worries!!!!]

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The Magic Box [Tuesday]

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