I Always Will
for Amaryllis, nothing goes as planned
[part twelve of Come What May]
words: 3k
cw: memory loss
accompaniment
Last night, Amaryllis and Julian went their separate ways at the edge of the forest.
“We’ll start over fresh tomorrow, with the new information that we have,” Amaryllis’s voice cut through the pouring rain. “Let’s meet at Portia’s after breakfast. Au revoir.”
Amaryllis had lost track of the time they spent aimlessly wandering around the palace gardens, mind lost in thought.
How it could be so easy for Julian’s memory to return, but that they were in a constant fight to regain even just the smallest hint of theirs. After all he did, they still helped him, and he couldn't even be bothered to offer them anything in return.
Julian’s refusal at least confirmed one thing in their mind.
The two did in fact, mean something to each other before.
-☽☼☾-
Now, Amaryllis sits at Portia’s dining table, listening to Julian prattle on about his recovered memory.
That back then, when Lucio was infected, Julian was working diligently on a cure.
“I was down there that night, working, but Lucio was convinced I wasn't working fast enough. He locked me inside and I, well—“ In a flash, he pulls off his eyepatch to finally reveal his eye. It isn't just an empty socket, as he’d implied before. It’s all there, and even appears to have vision, but the sclera of it is a deep red, just like that of the victims of the plague. “I was dying. But the cure worked, and it could still be down there in that dungeon.”
From his coat pocket, he pulls out the skeleton key, and a folded up paper. “I thought long and hard last night, and this is what helped me make sense of it all,” Julian says, gazing down solemnly at the paper. They recognize it as the one that fell from the pages of the grimoire hidden away in their room.
“Then perhaps if you'd have let me read my own writings, we could have come to this conclusion sooner,” Amaryllis says. From the corner of their eye, they can see Portia give them a pointed look.
“Well, it sounds like you two need to go down to that dungeon.” Portia diverts back to the real subject at hand. “We’re running out of time, with how close the masquerade is. Luckly, the countess will be quite distracted today, as some of her sisters are arriving from Praka. So you have the perfect opportunity to go searching.”
Amaryllis glances over to Julian, expecting to see him putting on his classic brave façade, but instead finds him already looking back at them, uncertainty casting a cloud over his features.
“Then by all means, Julian, lead the way.”
“But first!” Portia interjects. “Ilya, you need a good disguise! I have some spare staff uniforms I snagged for the occasion. You can play the part, can’t you?”
“I suppose that could work,” Julian murmurs, mind obviously still somewhere else.
“Actually, I have a different idea. I'd rather not have any missteps, so I’ll use another glamour spell on you.”
“The same one as before?”
“No. This one will be much different.”
Amaryllis murmurs a quick incantation, and in moments before everyone's eyes he turns from a towering, lanky man, into a petite young girl.
“Oh my, Ilya look at you! How cute!” Portia squeals. “Amie, who is he supposed to be? She’s a beauty, for sure.”
“My ward, Ophélie. Julian is familiar with her,” they explain to her. “My first thought was Asra or Vesper, but I can't risk the real ones appearing while he’s disguised. She’s quite unlikely to make an appearance here, so If we run into anyone we shouldn't, it will be easy to explain why she’s with me.” Amaryllis turns to Julian, who's looking at his new appearance in a mirror on the wall. “And the two of you are just alike— you won't have to pretend to be anyone else.”
Amaryllis watches as Julian reaches up to cup his—Ophélie’s— face. “We are just alike, aren't we?” he says longingly. “She’s gotten quite big in the last few years, hasn't she?”
“You remember her?”
“Bits and pieces. Enough to put together what it is I've missed.”
“Well, the sooner we get this excursion over with, the sooner you can go see her for yourself. She’d love nothing more than a visit from you.”
-☽☼☾-
Julian claims to remember the entrance to the dungeons being located somewhere in the library.
With him disguised as Ophélie, the two were able to waltz right through the halls of the palace without a hitch.
“It was a secret passage. A book! I remember… red… gold?” Julian mutters, through Ophélie’s much higher voice, pulling at almost any book on the shelf he can find.
Finally, he pulls on a book bound in deep red leather with golden accents, just as predicted, and the shelf whirls to life, pulling away from the wall to reveal a dark, unlit passage.
Amaryllis summons a flame in the palm of their hand. They find themself far more wary of the flame than the ominous tunnel that lies ahead.
“Down we go?”
Julian only nods. They half expected him to fight back against them going too.
Amaryllis takes the first step, Julian close behind, dropping the glamour as they start to descend.
It’s a long, winding stairwell full of uneven steps. The further the two of them go, the brighter Amaryllis casts the flame. It’s eerie, but their discomfort at what they might find only grows when they sense a headache coming on.
Julian is uncharacteristically quiet, possibly too quiet.
Eventually, after what feels like several stories down, the steps end and they find themselves in a dirty, dimly lit clearing. There’s an old, rickety looking lift directly before them. Crimson light leaks from underneath it, likely coming from wherever the contraption leads to. A gate locks it away, made out of old and rusted wrought iron.
Amaryllis sends the flame they're holding into the rest of the room, lighting the worn torches mounted upon the walls.
Julian— fully himself once more— takes a few hesitant steps closer to the gate, a gloved hand reaching up to wipe at the iron plate in the center of it.
“This… I know this. It’s an old nightmare.”
Amaryllis joins him at his side.
There’s an inscription, along with a keyhole
“Bloody hands may turn the key. Know the weight of your sins, and enter,” they recite.
Julian pulls the skeleton key from his coat. “Well, this is it.”
Quickly, Amaryllis snatches the key from his grasp.
“We turn the key together, or not at all. Your innocence has been vouched for, I don't need you coming up with any other crimes before we have our proof.”
Julian seems to know better than to argue with them at this moment in time. He nods, an uneasy grin on his face, and his hand wraps around Amaryllis’s.
The lock turns over without a hitch. The gate snaps open with a horrible screech.
“Either we’re both just as guilty, or it's bullshit.” Amaryllis’s words don't seem to offer Julian any comfort. He stares down at his hands, cradling the key. He's filled with dread, from his expression to the way he holds his shoulders. There's a tremor running through him, they hear his breathing quicken. Against their better judgment, they take his hands in theirs, steadying him.
Amaryllis has been cruel to him, they know it. They could help it, they've considered that, instead of pushing him away they could have pulled him closer despite his protests. Their attitude might not have made his self-loathing any worse than it was, but it certainly hasn’t helped.
Julian gasps when Amaryllis touches him, like their comfort was the last thing he was expecting. He leans into them, burrowing his head into their shoulder, hands still clasped. “Amaryllis…” His voice still trembles. “I've been asking myself a question, over and over, since last night. If I didn't kill the Count, what am I guilty of? I've forgotten so much. Even though my memories are coming back…” He exhales against their neck, deep and shaky. “I think I know what it is. I think I’ve known since the letter I found tucked away in the book hidden in your room. If it’s true, I don't know how— I know it would be worse than if I was simply guilty of killing Lucio. I’m afraid that my crimes are here. At the bottom of this pit.”
“And what of mine, Julian? I have no memories, I have the same mark as you. Lucio’s own ghost accused me of his murder. According to your own standards, I’m just as guilty as you claim to be. What if we go down there and there’s no evidence of whatever crime it is you think you've done, but piles against me, what then?”
“I’ll still take the fall.”
“That’s not what I’m asking of you, but it proves my point. Why have you been so quick to judge yourself so harshly for the same thing you’d accept me as is for? You can't tell me it's different, because it’s not.”
Julian takes another deep breath, but this time it's steady and sure. His head turns, and then suddenly his lips are on theirs. Amaryllis kisses him back as his hands find their face, cupping their jaw and pulling them as close as he possibly can. They missed this, even if they only had it for a short moment and it had only been gone just as long. It feels so familiar, and they're so enraptured in the comfort he brings, that they don't notice the slight way Julian turns the two of them. They don't think anything of it when Julian’s hands slide back down to grasp their shoulders.
Amaryllis only realizes that they've made a mistake at all once Julian is already pulling away from them. He pushes them away gently, catching them off guard and sending them a few steps back. Before they can make sense of it, he’s already locked himself away in the lift.
They scramble forward to the gate, prying at the bars, but it’s locked itself once more, and they don't have the key.
“Julian!” they shout, fingers wrapping around the rusted bars.
“I’m sorry.” There's a look of genuine remorse in his eye, but he stands tall, confident in the choice he's made. “For what it’s worth, thank you, Amie. I’ve done a lot of things I regret. Things I remember, and, I’m sure, things I forgot. But I don't, I couldn't possibly regret meeting you. Every moment I have with you is a blessing. I want you to know, I… I want a future with you. I always have. More than anything. I’ll find some way for that to happen, to make you forgive me for everything. I promise.”
“Why are you making this sound like a goodbye?”
“I’ll see you soon.” Julian pulls the lever and the lift comes to life with a screeching of gears.
Amaryllis watches it take him down, still pressed against the bars of the gate, until the red glow consumes every last bit of him.
-☽☼☾-
As soon as Amaryllis is back into the palace proper, they rush to find Portia. It’s about midafternoon, the sunlight flooding through all the magnificently crafted windows is jarring when they first come up from the cavern. The halls are bustling, with all sorts of servants bussing about, cleaning and decorating. They stop to ask a few familiar faces if they've seen Portia lately, most have no answer, and a few look at them like they've just seen a ghost.
They haven't managed to compose themself by the time they finally stumble upon Nadia’s parlor. Determined, they push open the double doors and step into the room.
“Has anyone seen Portia?” Amaryllis doesn't bother waiting for the conversation they're certainly interrupting to be finished, doesn’t wait for their presence to be announced.
“Amaryllis?” Nadia questions, sat at the organ across the room. “You look a mess, what's happened?” They scan the room, no Portia to be found. But Asra is there— dressed to the nines in an outfit Nadia must have gifted him— along with several others who look far too similar to Nadia to not be related.
Asra shoots up from where he’s seated, almost spilling his cup of tea when he sets it down on the table. “Amie, what’s wrong?” He rushes over to them, thumb reaching up to brush something away from their cheek before his hands settle on their arms. He has the same look of genuine concern on his face as he does when he's waking them from yet another nightmare.
“Nothing, just… investigating.” Amaryllis clears their throat. “I apologize for the interruption. Is Portia around?”
“Her and I were quite busy most of the day with masquerade planning. She’s been wearing herself thin lately, and looked awfully tired. I— gently— ordered her to go home and get some rest until dinner.” Nadia explains, rising herself and stepping towards them. “You seem a little fatigued yourself, Amaryllis...” For a moment, they're worried Nadia is suspicious of them, but one look at her tells them she’s nothing short of a concerned friend at the moment.
“Nadi, why don't I take Amie back to their room to get cleaned up, maybe rest a little.” Asra suggests. Amaryllis can only nod, too embarrassed to admit that they really do need his comfort right now.
“I believe that is a wonderful idea. Perhaps if you're feeling well enough after, I could have the chance to properly introduce you to my sisters.”
Asra thanks Nadia and bids farewell to the room, and spins them around, leading them out the door and through the busy halls with an arm around their shoulder.
The walk to Amaryllis’s room is quiet. Faust pops out from Asra’s collar to greet them with a snake kiss on the cheek, and then disappears right back into the fabric.
No one speaks when they enter the room. Asra simply sits them down on the chaise, disappears for a moment, and then returns with a glass of water, helping them to drink. They didn't realize they had the taste of that cavern stuck in their throat until now. He leaves again, and Amaryllis vaguely registers the opening and shutting of cabinets. This time he returns with a damp cloth, wiping at their face once more, careful to be gentle around their scar.
“I've noticed you've stopped wearing your veil lately.” Asra finally speaks up, and it isn't what they were expecting him to say at all.
“I just haven't felt the need. I don't know why I ever did at all.” He takes their hands, and they look down at them, finally realizing they're covered in all sorts of dirt and rust from the cavern. No wonder every person they'd come across on their way looked at them funny.
Asra sets the cloth to the side and leans down, unlacing their boots, slipping them off one by one. He stands them up. “Come on, let's get you changed.”
And Amaryllis lets him lead them across the room, stands patiently as he unlaces their gown and switches it out for a clean nightgown. Lets him sit them down at the vanity where he goes to work brushing out their hair, as he braids it back out of their face. It's been years since Amaryllis has allowed him to care for them so closely, but once upon a time it was all they knew.
But right now, Asra is exactly what they need, and they'd be a fool to push him away.
-☽☼☾-
The sun has already set when Amaryllis wakes. They don't remember falling asleep, and they barely remember how they got in bed at all. They know Asra— nowhere to be found— was here. They know they stormed into Nadia’s parlor unannounced. They were looking for Portia because Julian—
Julian.
Amaryllis throws the duvet back and rushes out of bed, into the main room. Their panic rouses Styx, who’d been sleeping away on his perch in the corner this whole time.
“Amma?”
“Where is he, Styx? Has he come back yet?” they ask aloud to their familiar.
“Has who come back yet?” Asra’s sitting in the armchair, rising as they come rushing into the room.
“Julian.” Amaryllis tells him, as if they could be worried about anyone else at the moment.
“I don't think so.” Styx’s response echoes in their mind.
“Amie, slow down. Now that you seem to be yourself again, why don't you tell me what happened?”
“His memories are returning. We found the lift down to the dungeons. We were supposed to go down together but he went down alone instead. He was terrified about what he would find down there, what evidence he'd find of his crimes— of mine. I have to find another way down there.”
“Your crimes? Amaryllis, what are you talking about?”
“Lucio’s back. He told me I'm not innocent in his death. If Julian finds something that can prove I killed Lucio, he’s going to try to take the fall anyways.”
Asra sits back down, taking a deep breath and running his hands through his curls. “I know the dungeons. He’s fine, I promise. He’s not going to find what he thinks he will down there.”
“Then what is it he’ll find?”
“Answers. But I don't know if they'll make any sense to him.”
Amaryllis doesn't bother questioning Asra any further, but they're still uneasy and they're sure he knows it. He stands and approaches them, taking their hands. “He’s fine. He’ll find his way back up if he already hasn’t by now, and tomorrow you can track him down and continue sneaking him around the palace while I keep Nadia looking the other way.”
“That’s why you showed up here?”
“I had my suspicions, and I thought it was finally time to visit Nadi.” Asra gives their hands a squeeze. “Ilya is just… being Ilya, unfortunately.”
Amaryllis rolls their eyes. “Don't I know it.”
“I know I've been harsh when it concerns him. I’m sorry.”
“No, I don't blame you. I've said a lot of cruel things to him in the past couple days.”
“Oh really? Ilya finally got an earful from you?” Asra bites back a laugh.
“He makes it hard not to.”
“Well, I think you deserve not to dwell on him for a little while. Nadia sent for us to join her and her sisters in the ballroom, what do you say?”
-☽☼☾-
Asra spins Amaryllis around the ballroom. They can’t remember a time where the two of them ever danced together, but having him as a partner feels natural, like they've done this a billion times before.
“Nine years.” he whispers against their ear. Amaryllis isn't surprised to learn that they’ve known Asra for a third of their life.
“If I’ve known you that long, how long have I known Julian?” Amaryllis asks, surprised to find that Asra doesn't falter.
“It’s weird to hear you call him that, you know.”
“What else would I call him?”
“Ilya. That's what you knew him as, how you introduced him to me.” The two step effortlessly in time to the music Nadia and her sisters are playing, a routine forming out of thin air. “But you've known him longer than me. At least ten years, I think.”
Amaryllis doesn't know how to respond, and shouldn't have brought Julian up in the first place. They were having a nice time, but now anxiety is starting to creep back in. Asra must sense it, because he twirls them again and flourishes it by dipping them low, wrapping their leg around his waist.
The song being played changes to a slower ballad then, and Amaryllis rises slowly, keeping their leg hooked on Asra’s hip.
“Another dance?” Amaryllis drops their leg, no answer needed from Asra to know he would. Not with the way he’s looking at them now. They take his arms, guiding them up to their shoulders, while their hands go down to rest on his waist. Amaryllis leads them, swaying gently to the music. “How different am I now? Am I still the same person I was before?”
“Hauntingly so.” Asra breaks from his daze. “You're the exact same Amie I knew and…”
“And what?”
“…And loved. Love.”
Amaryllis breaks the rhythm they'd fallen into, standing still on the dancefloor, music still swirling around them.
“Why now, Asra?”
“I just thought you should hear it. I know you know, and I know we missed our chance, but I've never told you—“
Amaryllis cuts him off. “I woke up loving you, it was my first coherent thought.”
“But?” His expression isn’t hopeful, just, curious.
The music and their conversation is cut short when Styx comes flying in from the outside veranda, screeching.
“Amma! It’s Julian!”