Marton and Liam. Saying Goodbye.
Jun. 11th, 2005 07:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
palace_marton[Takes place in the evening the day after Will and Liam talk.]
Marton knocked on Liam's study door before he opened it and peered around the corner. It was late, but not too late for Liam to be up and he wanted to say a private goodbye to his host as the entire party was leaving particularly early in the morning. Christian, Will and Johnny had already started their goodbyes with the others earlier that evening and even now, he could hear their voices from down the hall as they all made the most of their final evening together. Liam was in his office and he looked up as Marton stuck his head around the door, gesturing with a hand and a smile for Marton to enter.
Liam offered Marton a cup of coffee and asked, "Are you sure you want to leave your horse here? He's more than welcome, but you feel like someone abandoning a child." He settled onto the small sofa by the window and took a sip of his own coffee, looking up at his old friend with careful eyes.
Accepting the offer of coffee, Marton had just set his down when Liam spoke. He sighed and dropped into the seat next to Liam, ignoring his beverage for the moment. "Not you too," he said, wiping his hands down his face. "Christian's been at me and at me since the second I mentioned the possibility of bringing Steward down here to retire and he's not stopped." He gave Liam what could almost be considered a pleading look. "I don't have time for him and it's not fair on him," he complained. "Despite what my son believes, I can't see myself getting any more free time in the near future. It's breaking my bloody heart, but I have to!"
Liam took in Marton's agonized expression, as well as the conflicted waves of emotion radiating from him. "And you're worried he's not getting the specialized work-outs he should? Have you asked Johnny if he'd help? When he was here he kept Cal's two exercised and in training, around his schooling and such. He could probably manage Steward and Christian and still keep his grades up." His expression was all placid helpfullness, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.
Marton's groan was clearly audible, despite the fact that he had now entirely covered his face with his hands. "You," he said succinctly, "Are not helping." He sighed and then looked up, peeping out from between his fingers. "Really?" He sounded hopeful.
"Really he could? Yes. Really he will? You'll have to ask him. I'm more of a trail rider, myself, but Cal's pair have a row of ribbons in his office, and he used to compete regularly. When we filled up, Cal didn't have time to work with them and he was going frantic. Johnny picked up the slack and apparently did well enough. If you want a knowledgeable evaluation you'll have to ask Cal, but I can tell you he stopped fretting at me."
"Oh." Marton went quiet. "Oh." Giving himself a mental shake, he grinned suddenly. "You know," he said, "that's the one argument Christian never made? If he'd said.... Oh, well, looks like Steward is coming home, too." His expression was gleeful and almost child-like in its enthusiasm. "I'll have to re-book the transport." He almost got to his feet to do it right then, but remembering the time, he stifled the urge and lowered himself back down, ignoring Liam's grin as he took a sip of coffee. It was cold and he got up to pour himself a fresh one. "Will says he talked with you," he said casually.
Liam changed mental tracks smoothly and nodded. "Yes, we had a chat yesterday afternoon."
Marton added cream. He hated cream. He nodded. "Are you allowed to tell me anything?"
"Yes. In fact, he was rather insistent that I do." Liam finished his coffee and set the cup on a side table. "He does have some issues, but they're not the ones he thinks you think he has, which is probably most of why he's been fighting you about this. He's dealing well with the fact of his abuse, and that's not really unusual given the circumstances. Total immersion in an abusive environment for an extended period of time generally causes either withdrawal or adaptation. Will adapted. I'm not saying he enjoyed it or ignored it, but he became accustomed. It became 'normal' for him and he learned to handle it. There are probably still some scars left on his personality, but we all have those and we adjust to living with them."
One of the things Marton had always like most about Liam was his ability to communicate effectively without the need to resort to big, complicated words. Not only was it a sign of the man's immense generosity and his modesty over his intellect, it reflected his genuine concern for his patients and their loved ones. Marton knew a few big words himself but nonetheless appreciated not having to strain overmuch to understand the concepts Liam was imparting. He nodded and said, "I get that. Everyone's a product of their experiences."
"Yes. The human psyche is amazingly resilient when you get right down to it. And being in an environment where his treatment was considered normal actually helped. If he'd lived in a more mainstream community where he was constantly hammered with how wrong and shameful his experiences were, he'd have had a much greater emotional load to carry and the lasting wounds would be deeper. Instead he's more like... like someone who's lived in Erador all his life and has now moved to Calera. While he was back home, he didn't think much about the filth all around him and the cut-throat economy and the ignorance and bigotry. That's just what the world was like and he lived in it. But now that he's here he sees that this is better and he's more than willing to make the change, without agonizing over-much about his old life."
"Good. Good." Marton nodded. He thought about it for a few minutes, sipping at his coffee and pulling a face at the taste. "He said that I was about eighty-five percent right, that there were still some things he had to deal with?"
"Yes." Liam paused, considering how to explain. "Despite his mother's treatment of him, or perhaps because of it, he has an ideal image in his head of what she should be like, how she should behave, how she should have treated him. And hiding in the back of his mind was a wish that she would be that perfect mother. Likely every time he saw her or had any contact with her he was subconsciously wishing and hoping that she'd have changed and would fit his wish-image. And every time he saw her or had any contact with her he was disappointed. It would be best for him if he acknowledged having this wish and accepted, all the way down in his gut, that it's not going to happen. It's an expectation based on absolutely nothing concrete and he's setting himself up for a let-down, to say nothing of a lifetime of the pain of unfulfilled longing, until he releases it."
"And he knows this now?" Marton asked, adding thoughtfully, "Everyone wants their mother to love them."
"Yes, we do," Liam agreed, nodding. "And yes, he's aware of it. Releasing a deeply-held ideal isn't as easy as saying the words, though. I expect it'll take some time. If he feels a need to talk to me again at some point, make sure he calls, will you? I expect he'll hit a point where it becomes rather overwhelming. He'll need to... to mourn the loss of the mother he never had."
"I will." Marton promised and then smiled at the inadvertent pun. He ducked his head and then looked up at Liam. "I'm not you," he said. "I don't understand the ins and outs of the human mind but to me, a layman, that... woman reads like one of those sociopathic nightmares from a horror book. I don't think she knows what a true emotion is. I don't think she even really cares for her other children, despite their being daughters. I think she pretends to because it's the accepted behavior in her part of the world." He scratched the back of his head. "Not that it matters," he continued as an afterthought. "Will's well away from there. From her. I heard from Catherine before we came down here. Haven't told Will yet, not until it's sure, but she, Catherine, seems to think Ellen's going to be arrested. She was on the Valley Council and it looks like they've been indulging in some shady dealings, riding on the back of Catherine's grandmother's good graces and counting on sentiment for protection." He shook his head sadly. "Can't say I'm not pleased, I am. But for Will's sake... until he lets go...."
"Hmm. Yes, no sense going out of your way to give him maybes." Liam slid out of doctor mode and allowed himself a feral grin. "Couldn't happen to a nicer person, though. I'll keep her in my thoughts."
Marton's answering smile was equally as nasty. "As she is in mine," he said. With a reluctant sigh, he got to his feet. "I'm heading up to bed," he grumbled. "Back to the grindstone tomorrow."
"For us all," Liam agreed, standing up and heading toward the door beside his guest. "But, Marton? Make some time for Steward. And for yourself. Nine to five, remember? It's a job, and you're allowed some relaxation. It's good for you, and what's good for you is good for the kingdom."
Marton stopped and gave Liam a one-armed hug and a squeeze, his face slightly colored with embarrassment. "Thanks," he said gruffly. "I'll remember it."
Marton knocked on Liam's study door before he opened it and peered around the corner. It was late, but not too late for Liam to be up and he wanted to say a private goodbye to his host as the entire party was leaving particularly early in the morning. Christian, Will and Johnny had already started their goodbyes with the others earlier that evening and even now, he could hear their voices from down the hall as they all made the most of their final evening together. Liam was in his office and he looked up as Marton stuck his head around the door, gesturing with a hand and a smile for Marton to enter.
Liam offered Marton a cup of coffee and asked, "Are you sure you want to leave your horse here? He's more than welcome, but you feel like someone abandoning a child." He settled onto the small sofa by the window and took a sip of his own coffee, looking up at his old friend with careful eyes.
Accepting the offer of coffee, Marton had just set his down when Liam spoke. He sighed and dropped into the seat next to Liam, ignoring his beverage for the moment. "Not you too," he said, wiping his hands down his face. "Christian's been at me and at me since the second I mentioned the possibility of bringing Steward down here to retire and he's not stopped." He gave Liam what could almost be considered a pleading look. "I don't have time for him and it's not fair on him," he complained. "Despite what my son believes, I can't see myself getting any more free time in the near future. It's breaking my bloody heart, but I have to!"
Liam took in Marton's agonized expression, as well as the conflicted waves of emotion radiating from him. "And you're worried he's not getting the specialized work-outs he should? Have you asked Johnny if he'd help? When he was here he kept Cal's two exercised and in training, around his schooling and such. He could probably manage Steward and Christian and still keep his grades up." His expression was all placid helpfullness, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.
Marton's groan was clearly audible, despite the fact that he had now entirely covered his face with his hands. "You," he said succinctly, "Are not helping." He sighed and then looked up, peeping out from between his fingers. "Really?" He sounded hopeful.
"Really he could? Yes. Really he will? You'll have to ask him. I'm more of a trail rider, myself, but Cal's pair have a row of ribbons in his office, and he used to compete regularly. When we filled up, Cal didn't have time to work with them and he was going frantic. Johnny picked up the slack and apparently did well enough. If you want a knowledgeable evaluation you'll have to ask Cal, but I can tell you he stopped fretting at me."
"Oh." Marton went quiet. "Oh." Giving himself a mental shake, he grinned suddenly. "You know," he said, "that's the one argument Christian never made? If he'd said.... Oh, well, looks like Steward is coming home, too." His expression was gleeful and almost child-like in its enthusiasm. "I'll have to re-book the transport." He almost got to his feet to do it right then, but remembering the time, he stifled the urge and lowered himself back down, ignoring Liam's grin as he took a sip of coffee. It was cold and he got up to pour himself a fresh one. "Will says he talked with you," he said casually.
Liam changed mental tracks smoothly and nodded. "Yes, we had a chat yesterday afternoon."
Marton added cream. He hated cream. He nodded. "Are you allowed to tell me anything?"
"Yes. In fact, he was rather insistent that I do." Liam finished his coffee and set the cup on a side table. "He does have some issues, but they're not the ones he thinks you think he has, which is probably most of why he's been fighting you about this. He's dealing well with the fact of his abuse, and that's not really unusual given the circumstances. Total immersion in an abusive environment for an extended period of time generally causes either withdrawal or adaptation. Will adapted. I'm not saying he enjoyed it or ignored it, but he became accustomed. It became 'normal' for him and he learned to handle it. There are probably still some scars left on his personality, but we all have those and we adjust to living with them."
One of the things Marton had always like most about Liam was his ability to communicate effectively without the need to resort to big, complicated words. Not only was it a sign of the man's immense generosity and his modesty over his intellect, it reflected his genuine concern for his patients and their loved ones. Marton knew a few big words himself but nonetheless appreciated not having to strain overmuch to understand the concepts Liam was imparting. He nodded and said, "I get that. Everyone's a product of their experiences."
"Yes. The human psyche is amazingly resilient when you get right down to it. And being in an environment where his treatment was considered normal actually helped. If he'd lived in a more mainstream community where he was constantly hammered with how wrong and shameful his experiences were, he'd have had a much greater emotional load to carry and the lasting wounds would be deeper. Instead he's more like... like someone who's lived in Erador all his life and has now moved to Calera. While he was back home, he didn't think much about the filth all around him and the cut-throat economy and the ignorance and bigotry. That's just what the world was like and he lived in it. But now that he's here he sees that this is better and he's more than willing to make the change, without agonizing over-much about his old life."
"Good. Good." Marton nodded. He thought about it for a few minutes, sipping at his coffee and pulling a face at the taste. "He said that I was about eighty-five percent right, that there were still some things he had to deal with?"
"Yes." Liam paused, considering how to explain. "Despite his mother's treatment of him, or perhaps because of it, he has an ideal image in his head of what she should be like, how she should behave, how she should have treated him. And hiding in the back of his mind was a wish that she would be that perfect mother. Likely every time he saw her or had any contact with her he was subconsciously wishing and hoping that she'd have changed and would fit his wish-image. And every time he saw her or had any contact with her he was disappointed. It would be best for him if he acknowledged having this wish and accepted, all the way down in his gut, that it's not going to happen. It's an expectation based on absolutely nothing concrete and he's setting himself up for a let-down, to say nothing of a lifetime of the pain of unfulfilled longing, until he releases it."
"And he knows this now?" Marton asked, adding thoughtfully, "Everyone wants their mother to love them."
"Yes, we do," Liam agreed, nodding. "And yes, he's aware of it. Releasing a deeply-held ideal isn't as easy as saying the words, though. I expect it'll take some time. If he feels a need to talk to me again at some point, make sure he calls, will you? I expect he'll hit a point where it becomes rather overwhelming. He'll need to... to mourn the loss of the mother he never had."
"I will." Marton promised and then smiled at the inadvertent pun. He ducked his head and then looked up at Liam. "I'm not you," he said. "I don't understand the ins and outs of the human mind but to me, a layman, that... woman reads like one of those sociopathic nightmares from a horror book. I don't think she knows what a true emotion is. I don't think she even really cares for her other children, despite their being daughters. I think she pretends to because it's the accepted behavior in her part of the world." He scratched the back of his head. "Not that it matters," he continued as an afterthought. "Will's well away from there. From her. I heard from Catherine before we came down here. Haven't told Will yet, not until it's sure, but she, Catherine, seems to think Ellen's going to be arrested. She was on the Valley Council and it looks like they've been indulging in some shady dealings, riding on the back of Catherine's grandmother's good graces and counting on sentiment for protection." He shook his head sadly. "Can't say I'm not pleased, I am. But for Will's sake... until he lets go...."
"Hmm. Yes, no sense going out of your way to give him maybes." Liam slid out of doctor mode and allowed himself a feral grin. "Couldn't happen to a nicer person, though. I'll keep her in my thoughts."
Marton's answering smile was equally as nasty. "As she is in mine," he said. With a reluctant sigh, he got to his feet. "I'm heading up to bed," he grumbled. "Back to the grindstone tomorrow."
"For us all," Liam agreed, standing up and heading toward the door beside his guest. "But, Marton? Make some time for Steward. And for yourself. Nine to five, remember? It's a job, and you're allowed some relaxation. It's good for you, and what's good for you is good for the kingdom."
Marton stopped and gave Liam a one-armed hug and a squeeze, his face slightly colored with embarrassment. "Thanks," he said gruffly. "I'll remember it."
