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Anya hadn't expected the conversation to veer so horribly off-course. Sure, she hadn't exactly expected Sebastian to react positively to her decision to work with Lodgok, but she certainly hadn't foreseen…
…this.
He was livid. The undercroft, usually a domain of bone-seeping cold, felt unnaturally warm to Anya; she could almost physically feel the rage emanating from Sebastian.
"Why would I listen to someone so ignorant?" Sebastian's voice shattered the silence, harsh and unforgiving, echoing off the ancient walls.
Anya stared at him, wide-eyed, taken aback by the venom in his words. Oh, so this is where it was going?
Fine.
"Ignorant? Are you seriously calling me ignorant? You want to lump all goblins together, and I'm the ignorant one? Do you hear what comes out of your mouth, or do you just say things and hope for the best?" She frowned at him, the torchlight above them casting golden reflections in her eyes.
Sebastian dragged his hands down his face, his fingers tangling in his hair as if he wished to tear it out. "You don't understand! You don't understand what it's like to have your sister one day and then practically watch her decay, minute by minute, the next!"
"I'm not saying I do! I never said I could POSSIBLY understand what you're going through, Sebastian, but I'm TRYING to help. I want to help Anne, and this is a possible route we can take," Anya countered, her lips set in a firm line.
"Oh, for— and you think the very CAUSE of my sister's illness is the answer? I may be many things, but at least I'm not naive enough to think—to think things are so black and white!" His voice rose in anger and disbelief as he paced the stone floor, his robes billowing behind him.
She looked at him for a moment, at a loss for words, before continuing. "Naive? Really? Because I believe in looking at individuals instead of stereotypes, that makes me naive. Because I choose to consider ALL possibilities?"
"Yes, naive and idealistic!" Sebastian spun to face her, contempt etched into his features.
"Okay, so, so far, I'm ignorant, naive, AND idealistic. Do you have anything else to call me, Sebastian?" Her voice carried a note of sarcasm, a shield against the hurt.
Their verbal sparring matched their dueling prowess—equal in venom, equal in fervor.
"You know what your problem is? You think a few teachers singing your praises makes you an expert on the wizarding world. So what, you think, just because you can wave a wand and recite some spells, you understand everything? You haven't been here. You haven't seen what I've seen." Sebastian's words were bitter, torn between going too far and not far enough. Deep down, he feared Anya was endangering Anne all over again. Not to mention, this wasn't the way things were supposed to go; this wasn't the part that Anya was meant to have in all of this. She was supposed to listen to him, to help him help Anne. Anya was supposed to help him with what he wanted to do, the way he wanted to do it.
This was all wrong.
His bitterness didn't deter Anya. She could tell he was just lashing out out of fear of the unknown, like a caged animal. Her face softened, her voice quiet as she tried to calm him, trying to bring the conversation back to where it could be a conversation again and not a yelling match.
"I never claimed to be an expert, Sebastian. I--- why are we even having this conversation? You can't seriously think it's okay to condemn all goblins because---"
"I think I have the right to think so, actually. More than anyone." Sebastian interrupted, causing Anya to flinch.
"The right? Just because you've suffered, that gives you the right to judge an entire race? You're not even willing to consider working with a goblin to help Anne?" She searched his eyes for some semblance of reason but found only the reflection of his fury.
"Don't you dare use her to further this---this agenda of yours. When you've witnessed what I've witnessed, endured what I've endured, then maybe you'd understand."
"So that's it, then? Your pain justifies your prejudice? It blinds you to the point where you can't even consider--?"
"Consider what, Anya? That there's some good in those who ruined my life? Anne's life? That's not just naive, it's dangerous."
"And what about those goblins who haven't done anything wrong? Who suffer because of this blanket hatred? Are they just collateral damage in your quest for vengeance?"
"What would you have me do, Anya? Welcome them with open arms? Act as if everything's fine? What's next, shall I shake hands with the goblin who cursed Anne?"
"You know that's not what I'm saying. I'm asking you to trust me. I'm doing this for you, for Anne. If nothing else, surely you can put aside your... beliefs for her?" She took a step forward, physically reaching out for him.
He responded by taking a step backward.
"No. Absolutely not. This fantasy of yours will come crashing down, and I refuse to be dragged down with you. I refuse to let you put Anne in danger."
She stopped in her tracks, shrinking back. This wasn't the Sebastian she'd come to know, the one whose conversations she reveled in, whose owls she eagerly anticipated. They hadn't been friends for long, but she hadn't expected such a vehement show of distrust from him.
How could he possibly think she'd ever want to put Anne in danger?
"So that's it then?" She sighed.
"That's it."
She simply watched as he angrily stomped out of the undercroft, the echoes of his footsteps fading until she was left alone with the remnants of their conversation, if it could even be called that, and the sounds of crackling flames.
She rubbed her hands together, wondering if she was at fault; perhaps she should've been more sensitive to the context surrounding this. She knew how much he cared for Anne, and, well…
She shook her head. No, he hadn't even wanted to hear her out. He'd just called her ignorant and then started a barrage of insults and thinly veiled passive-aggressive statements.
"Ugh." She grunted, grabbing her satchel off the floor and stomping out of the undercroft herself.