5 February 2023

I really enjoy writing these character interviews. I might have to write a book solely using them to tease out the story. Maybe later.

One thing I’m most worried about is how many of the posts recently paint Arylwen in a very negative light. That’s not too bad; she’s certainly flawed, and that’s part of her character arc. But she needs to have redeeming qualities, as well. I need it to be easy for the audience to forgive her for her faults, at least after she’s outgrown them. And in the current incarnation of the story, it seems like Bethany gets the worst of those faults. I will have to tinker with that a bit.

Getting to know Bethany was very fun, though. The girl needs hugs. She’s better than she thinks she is. Which, as I understand it, is almost as common a failing as assuming you are more amazing than you actually are.

I choose to meet Bethany in a garden. There’s a tea table set up in the middle, complete with an array of cakes and things. I give it a critical look. Am I being too easily influenced by common stereotypes? How might I avoid making bethany feel like a cookie-cutter “helpless princess” character? I snap my fingers, and the platter is reduced to a single slice of cake a piece.

Bethany comes out a moment later, in a very fine green dress. I stand and tip my head. As she approaches, I step around the table and pull out her chair, and wait for her to sit down before I return to my own seat.

She studies me a moment. “Are you being gentle with me, monsieur?”

“Perhaps. More than I would with some characters. Don’t read too much into it, though; I simply have not gotten the full measure of your character yet, that’s all.”

Her expression sours, and she opens her mouth to ask a question, perhaps about Arylwen and how I’d handle her. But in the end, she says nothing; it seems Bethany doesn’t have the full measure of my character, either.

I pull out a notebook and flip open to a clean page, pen at the ready. “You are closely acquainted with several notable individuals. Prince Elliott, the young dragon Arylwen… Even Charles is gaining quite the reputation as a hero.” As soon as I mention Charles, a blush creeps onto Bethany’s cheeks, but she stoically pretends not to notice. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you come to meet and develop a relationship with them?”

She takes a moment to reflect, and a soft smile slowly eases onto her features. “It would have been nearly ten years ago. Miss Moira came to my father about something–I would later learn it was this very resistance–and she brought them with her. Not that either my father nor I realized who Miss Moira was at the time.”

I decide not to mention that I still don’t know who Moira is. Or was, rather, before her “ascension” to dragonhood. …I need to figure out what terms people in-universe use for that phenomenon.

I prompt her to continue, and she says, “Elliott was quiet. Brooding. It made him seem handsome, in an unapproachable sort of way, but he scared me, too. Arylwen…” Bethany’s face fell, and she drew into herself. “She took one look at me, my dress and my shoes, and stalked off with a snort.”

It takes a moment for her to compose herself. No tears fall, and I’m not sure the glint I catch at the corner of her eye is even real, but it’s clear there are scars there. Then she takes a deep breath, and looks me in the eye.

“But Charles… Charles was different. He greeted me warmly that first day, and even after that, he would always notice me and drag me over to join them on their adventures. Oftentimes, Arylwen would get mad at him or say something mean to me, and they’d fight, and Elliott would have to step in and break them u.” She chuckled. “One time, Arylwen called me a pig. I think at the time, she felt that way about anyone who was rich, but it hurt, and I started crying. Charles got so mad he kicked her right in the shins. It didn’t matter that she was a dragon, or that he liked her.”

Then her smile faded, and she looked down into her lap. “I guess not much about Charles has really changed, has it? He’s still a hero, still kind to everyone, and I… I’m just a silly girl with a silly crush.”

I frown and look up from my notebook. “It is not silly.”

Bethany looks up at me, eyes wide. I sigh. “Even if it doesn’t pan out. Even if you know he and Arylwen get together, and then you watch it happen. Those feelings helped you get here, today, no matter how timid you think you are.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I hold up my hand. “Tell me, Bethany. Would a coward have been willing to slap a dragon across the face?”

Bethany has no response to that. I continue, “And do you think there is any dragon–especially Arylwen–that would just let that go? And yet here you are.”

“But that’s different. She and I are… Well, we, we know each other, and–”

“Do you know what makes Charles a hero? WHat it is that makes him brave?”

Bethany pauses, unsure what to say. I’m sure numerous ideas come up about why he’s a hero to her, but she just shakes her head.

“For me, at least, it is because even when he’s terrified, even when he thinks he’ll fail, he does it anyway. That’s how I found him, you know. As a little boy, scared stiff, certain he was going to be killed as he stood before the Pirate King. And yet, he went anyway, for Elliott’s sake.” A half smile falls to my lips. “Now, does that remind you of anyone?”

As I watch her expression, I can tell Bethany wants to protest. But she can’t find the words, as she chews on what I’ve said. I don’t know if she can accept it yet–I’m not sure she ever will–but at least she’s thinking about it.

“I wish,” I say, after some time, “that I could promise you a happily ever after. That Charles will see everything you’ve done, change his mind, and sweep you off your feet. But you and I both know that would be a lie.” I smile apologetically. “In fact, I know a bit too much, and you’ve certainly got your share of pain and heartache ahead. But there is joy, too. And the friendship you’ve developed with Charles and Arylwen is always going to be something you can fall back on.”

The tears do come, this time. Bethany turns away, perhaps embarrassed to be seen like that. I rise and check the time. “Well, I need to leave. Was there anything you needed? Anything else you wanted to say or ask?”

Bethany shook her head. As I pass her I pat her shoulder. “It will be alright. Even if that seems impossible now.” Then I walk away.

It isn’t until much later that I realize neither of us ate any of the cake.