The Way We Talk

Loyalty (Little Talks #14)

Prompt:  "Do you hear yourself?"

Thea actually laughs with her mother for a change as they both admire the huge amount of clothes they've both bought.  Since the trial and ensuing chaos, they haven't really had a chance to have a girls' day out, and she's forgotten how nice it is to spend time with her mother.  While Moira Queen isn't exactly a doting mother, Thea isn't exactly an admiring daughter.  But, somehow, it usually manages to work out between them.

"All the clothes we would ever need," Thea says to her mother cheerfully, "and not a speck of orange to be found."  She finds it easy to joke about her mother's brush with the death penalty now, even though it made her blood run cold at the time.  That part of their lives is over now, and it's no longer something to worry about.  It's just a shared joke.

Moira laughs lightly, as much as she ever does; Thea knows her mother is stoic, even though it makes things tense between them.  "Orange isn't exactly my color," she agrees lightly as she pulls a new blouse from  one of one of their many bags.  It's red and fetching—unlike the orange cotton garments they were just discussing.

Abruptly, something shifts in Moira's expression, and the smile falls, even though she tries hard to hide it.  The change gives Thea whiplash, so she naturally asks, "Hey, what's wrong?"  Her tone is as light and cheerful as possible, trying to hide the concern in her voice.

"Nothing," Moira assures her daughter, that poised, fake smile back in place.  "I was just thinking how this would go lovely with those earrings Oliver gave me on my birthday last year."

It doesn't take a genius to realize that relations are strained between Oliver and Moira these days.  Thea isn't sure what exactly caused the tension, but every time Moira mentions Oliver, the worry space between her eyebrows wrinkles.  Additionally, every time Oliver talks about their mother, what little light left in his eyes from after the island drains instantly.  Something has happened, but neither of them dares to acknowledge anything is wrong.

Thea huffs testily, tired of the grueling charade.  There's an elaborate dance between the two of them, and it's time for her cut in.  The Queen home is nothing but lies and accusations these days, and she's seen it too many times.  "Mom, what's going on?" she asks finally.

The smile Moira offers in response is fake.  "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she says in that lofty businesswoman tone, standing at full height for a moment before turning back to the clothing.

Thea isn't buying it, though.  "Don't try to lie to me," she demands.  "I know there's something going on between you and Oliver, alright?  I just want to know what the problem is."

Moira sighs in defeat.  "Oliver and I are having a disagreement about the campaign.  It's nothing to worry about," she assures her daughter, but the look on Moira's face betrays the truth.

Still, Thea knows what to push and what to leave well enough alone.  She'd rather go for the reason than the emotion, so she asks, "Well, for the sake of avoiding World War Three, what topics do I need to avoid?"

Another dramatic sigh sounds before Moira finally admits, "Oliver has some concerns about my campaign.  I don't think he wants me to run."

Thea knows what's going to happen now, but she can't contain her opinions any longer.  "Do you hear yourself?" she asks, incredulous.  "Ollie is your biggest campaign contributor!  He stopped backing his friend Sebastian when you announced you were running!  How could you even think that?!"  She's surprised to realize she's yelling at the end of her speech.

Trying to avoid yet another fight with her mother, she turns on her heel and marches promptly out of the room, her heels echoing against the the hardwood floors.  Moira is calling, "Thea!" behind her, but she doesn't answer—doesn't respond.  She knows where her loyalties lie.

But what she doesn't know is that she's chosen a side in a much larger fight.