Work Text:
Dear Charlotte,
I would ask you how you are, but it has been years- no, decades- since you passed. And not a day goes by that I don't think of you, and all the others.
I'm writing to you today because I needed to talk to someone. Anyone. And you were always the best at listening. At caring. I suppose that's what made you a fantastic Consul.
Did I ever tell you I considered you more a maternal figure than a friend, even if you were only a few years older than the rest of us?
You were so mature even then. Even when you were scared, you had so much strength to give others. You had the courage to stand by yourself, Charlotte. And it is some of that courage I need now.
Today marks ten years since Will died. Ten years, Charlotte. Ten years, and there is no one I can say it to. Not even Jem, because some pain we must carry ourselves.
I'm starting to forget him. How, how is it possible? We were married decades, and now I cannot remember little things after ten measly years. It hurts, Charlotte. It hurts more than forgetting him entirely.
I can almost imagine your hand on my shoulder, meant to soothe. I can hear your voice in my head, gentle and maternal but ever so strong. But I cannot for the life of me, think of what you would say to me.
I imagine it would be some kind of comforting speech, meant to draw me away from the melancholy. I feel that you would tell me what mattered was the years we had, and the love we shared. That as long as I remembered the love, there would be no true loss.
At least, that is what my imagination let me come up with. Given that you were, and still are, one of my dearest friends, I'd like to think my speculations are close to what you would've said.
I've been practicing more with my magic lately. I'm still not much of an expert, but I'd like to think I'm better now than I was all those years ago, when you let me into the London Institute. Into your lives.
Sometimes, I experiment, and I cannot help but wonder if I could bring the people I loved back. Keep them here with me forever. But that is a dark thought, Charlotte, is it not?
I won't ever do anything like that, of course. Not after seeing what Tatiana became. No love that is kept confined can be called love. But sometimes, when the loneliness creeps in, it is hard to find a reason why I shouldn't do it.
But I won't. I won't, because your memory keeps me from trying it. I won't, because Will wouldn't want to see me like that. I won't, because the children, and their children, still need to be watched over.
I miss you very much Charlotte. I miss you all. But it's alright. As someone wise once told me, as long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.
And I'm lucky enough to have someone to remember with me.
All my love,
Tessa.