the end to annete and ambrose

Annete Alricht asks, "... Ambrose. A moment?"


Ambrose Roche says, "Mhm. Very well."



Annete takes a seat on the bench - and motions for Ambrose to do so, as well.

A quiet sigh escapes from her, and there is clearly some restraint in her movements - especially after their last conversation. And yet, still, she does give him a smile.

"The Queen has been gathering blood for your ascension, hasn't she?.."

A brief pause, and a tilt of her head. "How long do you think it will take for it to be ready?"

It is important to know that, after all.
(Annete Alricht)

As much as the Prince takes a seat, there's an occasional glance spared towards Annete. A question follows..

Odd. One of his ascension?

"The blood is already gathered."

"I believe it will be happening very soon- perhaps even tonight." Although there's a pause, he soon remarks.

"Why?"
(Ambrose Roche)

Eyebrows are furrowed. Why?

"You know why." It is delivered sharply, quickly. The countenance carries that confusion - the need for the question at all.

"We promised we would have that experience before both of us ascend... for the first time."

"That is why I am asking." She shifts briefly as she seats... of course, there are many, many things she wants to say right now - but... it feels strange to begin telling him everything that has happened to her - and asking him of what happened to him - in the recent months, when that question lingers in the air.
(Annete Alricht)

"--Ah."

There is certain.. strangeness to this, now that he thinks about it. Does he still feel the same way, with the ties between them growing so ever distant?

It barely felt as if they're anywhere near each other anymore these days.

"... I'm not sure I still want that, Annete."

Much has changed. Perhaps far, far too much.. but even then, his head reclines back on the seat, staring somewhere forward. Various thoughts cross his mind, but..

"I feel that we've grown apart."

"All these years... we did share some pleasant memories, like a dance together for the first time, but.. ultimately, I still don't know you that much."

"I doubt you know me much either."

Perhaps such things back when were spoken out of inexperience, or in the heat of the moment. Even then..

"But I sense this is not the only thing you wanted to say."
(Ambrose Roche)

She purses her lips.

It is as she feared. Why she didn't want to let go, back then. Did he truly say it 'for her sake' back then? Or he has simply already grown cold back then?

"Of course we've grown apart."

She inhales sharply. "You denied my touch when we last spoke. Told me I should 'do something'. Make progress."

"And I am doing just that. I thought I should make enough progress just to show you that I did not depend on you at all. That you are just a more experienced swimmer that helps me out - when needed."

Half-lidded emerald greens bore into his. "... There is always time to learn of each other more. All the time in the world, in fact."

Perhaps she should have hurried things up. Maybe she shouldn't have agreed to taking it slowly.

"... I am always a letter away, Ambrose. Or right here, when I am not particularly busy with anything else. I thought you are, too. But then I tried to confide in you, share my concerns to my stagnation - and for that stagnation you pushed me away."

Another pause, and a sigh.

"Have we grown apart?.. I think of how much I want to see you again - to sense your touch - to have you sense mine - everyday."

"But it is you who pushed me away last time, and to respect your words, I've kept my distance."

"Did I misunderstand, back then? Were I not supposed to... do all of this? Or was it just an excuse to push me away?.."

"We promised to be honest with each other, didn't we?"

It's heavy. It is even heavier than the last conversation, and yet she retains her composure. For now. Thankfully she has let out much of her anger the other day.
(Annete Alricht)

It was far more complicated than this.

For as much as the two of them went on their own way to accomplish something, it has been much more troubling than this. Even then, when she speaks of him denying her any touch, any sensation..

"--I know."

He did this. He asked for this - and he doesn't go back on his decision. If anything, it seems that even now there's a constant churning of thought within his mind.

Constantly thinking of all that happened as of late.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time, Annete."

It is a simple confession, yet one that must be said anyway. Even then, he soon continues.

"How long ago have we met? When I was... fourteen? Fifteen, at most?" He pauses.

"... I'm twenty now. It feels like it barely moved since that spot, and it's been five years."

Five years is a pretty long time. Much could happen at that point, and even she should realize that. Anyone could realize that, truth be told..

"I feel like we always moved at a different pace, lived different lifestyles. The differences between us are vast."

"And maybe they made for these pitfalls along the way." Even then..

"And I don't think any of this would even happen if Araceli didn't nudge me to dance with you, that day. I think.. that's how we even got to know each other in the first place - or at least, I thought that we did."

After all, how much do they know about each other anyway? How much did they share, if there was a lot at all?

"I asked you to pursue your own goals for your own sake. That is true."

"But I also did so to see if I would begin to miss you, if I were to realize that I lost something." There, he finally turns his gaze towards her.

"... you know the saying?"


"You only truly realize how much you loved something when you lost it."


A testament to someone's regret, some would say. A clear indication that someone truly loves something, and they were simply blinded by their own prejudice at the time. Then..

The next words he says are painful.
They are difficult to say.
But he says them nonetheless.

"-- well, I didn't miss it."
(Ambrose Roche)

"You were sixteen, and I was fifteen."

"Though Araceli nudged you to dance, it was I who teased you to do so with me."

Such tiny details that she remembers still. The time they've spent has not been that long - or perhaps, simply not that long to her? She has always experienced time differently.

But is it truly as he says?.. Did they not know each other at all? They spoke of each other's lives, of what lies heavy on their hearts. Of the things that are not shared with many - of their plans for the future. They have comforted each other when they were down, and yet...

This is how it ends? All that care, all those feelings she has expressed - the passion they shared...

Does it end like this?

Her lip quivers, and she shakes her head, looking down on the ground instead of him.

"But I did miss it..."

She remains still, unmoving. Perhaps out of disbelief - or, perhaps, hoping that something would change in the next words. It is hard but she keeps it together for now, though it starts to slip through the cracks.

Hands interlocked and clenched together, she remains still - waiting to see what he would say next - hoping that perhaps there is more.

Even if it is painful, maybe there is more.
(Annete Alricht)

The details of such were mostly irrelevant.

It could make a difference, but it was negligible and small- the core of the fact remained rather simple amidst it all, that they simply were too far different people to fit in a single mold.

They lived different lives.

Does it end like this? Ambrose wasn't entirely sure. From the way that it sounded, it was the end - but he didn't know how such things happen, he didn't know how to do this at all.

All that he knew is simply to speak how he feels about it.

"--I know."

That she did miss it, that she felt this way, and even then... there's a small sigh that escapes past his lips, one that perhaps hints at the deeper problems within this.

"I just..."

"I don't understand why you never really... showed it. It took you so long to display any affection, any excitement about me being there, just.."

"Anything at all. Quite often, I'd look at you and you would just... be there."

It's just as he said once..

'Even my enemies seem more excited to see me.'

Is it the lack of affection, then? Is it the lack of anything shown by her? Perhaps... but that was merely icing on the cake- yet another addition to the list of problems.

"... Annete."

"I don't think I can keep going like this."

But he was not without empathy... in spite of the dark arts that he wielded- there was a glance to her side.

"If.."

"I can do something for you, something to ease this.."

"Then ask."
(Ambrose Roche)

The hands are no longer interlocked, resting on her lap instead, digging deep into the fabric of the dress. Is that the problem? That she did not try enough?

"... Is that it, then? Is that the problem?" Her face turns to meet his once more. Resilience - holding onto what they have still... it drives her to keep the conversation going. To perhaps find a solution.

"I told you why. I told you. But then when I tried to do something about it, you pushed me away!" Emotion - there is finally emotion.

She let out a lot last night. All of that pent-up frustration at how it felt as if it all went downhill ever since the day when he told her to pursuit her own goals.

"I'm sorry that... I didn't show much of it. I just didn't know how much is okay-... I had a feeling as if there was too much."

"I'm sorry..."

Andthat display of empathy? It feels like pity. That - that makes her inhale sharply and get up immediately.

"No."

"I don't need anything if this is how it ends. If this is end of us-... if I am no longer yours, and you are no longer mine..."

"Then I don't need anything from you."

"But if there's even a sliver of those feelings we shared left - if... it's something that can be amended, still, then..."

"Tell me. Please."

She remains still, standing now. Ready to move away at any moment should this be final...
(Annete Alricht)

"..."

Odd. To see and hear her see the emotion at last. It's almost strange that she would resort to doing so now, but.. of all things, it felt like it simply wasn't enough.

Too little,
too late.

"I did not push you away until the last year. Even then... I had my reasons." The reasons that he spoke of already. Given how the years kept passing like this..

It simply wasn't working out.

"--Annete."

"I think apologies are futile now. It's not something that you should be apologizing either." Some things just..

Weren't meant to be, perhaps.

Even when, when she gets up, he watches her carefully; he listens in to what she had to say, to what she spoke of- he couldn't blame her for it. If anything..

This attempt to give her something was, perhaps, his own guilt. He knew that he had to do something about their situation, and this was his way of dealing with such, but it did not mean that he felt no guilt.

Even then..

".. I see."

A small remark regarding such. But.. when she asks him if there's a sliver of those feelings left? If there's something that can be amended?

He thinks of it for a while. How he felt as of late, where his mind wandered, and what he occupied himself. Did he even have time for relationship, going like this?

Hardly.

"No..."

"I don't think so."

It is not a most definite, solid answer. But..

It's not the one in the favour of this either.
(Ambrose Roche)

No words are imparted upon him. She has heard all that she needed to hear - and with that she quickly begins to move towards the door.

"Bye, Ambrose."

What else is there to say? She could, of course, express her feelings once more, but...

they are not reciprocated. Much like those she have left, she has once again not been understood.

"... As I said, I'm always there if you'll ever need me."

But she would do her best to never call on him. To prove him wrong to the very end, to make him regret this for certain.

The door is opened, gently - too gently, in fact. There is effort in not pushing it wide open and not slamming it behind her as she leaves.
(Annete Alricht)

The Prince is...

Silent. Thoughtful. It is not something that he would expect, from all those things back then.

Did he do a bad thing,
to a good person?

"--Save me from myself."

Spoken quietly, but..

To whom? That remains unknown. Instead, he only lets his gaze linger somewhere else.

Thoughtful.
(Ambrose Roche)