'Twas different then: barring tragic accident, we returned to the star at a time of our choosing. There was naught to mourn - only to celebrate.
[ Until the Final Days upended everything. He resists her attempt to remove the glass from his hand, but not in a terribly stubborn way. His words are starting to slur a bit. ]
In the first place, you and he are anomalies. Neither of you are the Warrior that I know, yet...
[Irhya lets that hang in the air for a moment. She's here; she exists, in spite of the fact he's just hit her in a sore spot. Yes, she is the oddity, not everyone else, but...]
I know you won't forget about Felih. I won't either, even though there was so much I didn't ever get to ask him about himself. But I'm here right now, and a hell of a lot more forgiving than the drink if you ask me. I just don't understand why...
What difference does it make?! Someday you will disappear too! You, Felih, even Hythlodaeus is dead! Everyone dies! Except for me, who craves death desperately enough to invite you to be the instrument of my own downfall, only for even that to be denied me!
[ He slumps forward on the table, nearly knocking over his glass, head buried in folded arms.
[She opens her mouth in rebuttal, but stops when he bends over the table with such powerful despair. Instead, the reaction is slow, but she rings her arms around his waist from behind and rests her forehead against his back.]
[ There's muffled sobbing. He curls up more tightly, drawing deep, shaky breaths as he weeps for the one who had been first to worm their way into his heart. Felih's unwavering optimism and naivety had grown on him slowly, paving the way for the others to slowly steal beneath his defences.
This is the curse of immortality. The curse of an enduring life. He would rather die than know further loss. ]
[ If a mere embrace were enough to assuage centuries-long anguish, they would neither of them be in their respective positions back home. He cries for gods know how long, taking some small comfort in the fact that she doesn't let him go. When the tears do eventually subside, he falls into a deep quiet for a while longer.
Eventually, she will feel his hand cover hers and grasp it. ]
[She murmurs it into his back, careful not to let her voice crack. He can't help it. Neither can she. But she has to hold up for him, at least until she can get back to her own place.]
I know. I miss him too. Just let me take care of the plants, okay? I'm no green thumb normally, but I'll figure it out.
[She doesn't expect that request, but logically, if some of it goes to her, less of it goes to him. And... it can't hurt, right? It's not like she'll get tipsy off one glass. Probably.
So, without moving too far, she reaches over him to pour herself a glass one-handedly. When she finishes and moves back, she looks at him.]
[ He shrugs listlessly, refilling his glass again with the last of the bottle's contents. This time he drinks at a more moderate pace. ]
The last time I drank with company other than yourself or Felih was in the army. Strong spirits would warm us as we kept vigil in the trenches. Just a sip to relax the mind but not enough to numb it. There was no knowing when a mage would suddenly rain fire upon our heads after all.
I suppose. You probably got to know the other soldiers pretty well that way... perhaps even came to care about them a little?
[The lilt in her voice is suggestive. More than a nation or a grand heroic cause, it's much easier to fight for people you care about, even if on a smaller scale. That's how it is for her, anyway.]
[ Another short bout of silence. He doesn't think he needs to mention that many of the men he drank with had not returned home at the end of their campaign. ]
But when one loves and loses constantly with each turn of the star, love begins to lose its meaning and loss becomes a bitter medicine to swallow. Better, then, to never love or lose ever again.
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omnicrafter) wrote2020-11-10 05:45 am
no subject
[ Until the Final Days upended everything. He resists her attempt to remove the glass from his hand, but not in a terribly stubborn way. His words are starting to slur a bit. ]
In the first place, you and he are anomalies. Neither of you are the Warrior that I know, yet...
no subject
[Irhya lets that hang in the air for a moment. She's here; she exists, in spite of the fact he's just hit her in a sore spot. Yes, she is the oddity, not everyone else, but...]
I know you won't forget about Felih. I won't either, even though there was so much I didn't ever get to ask him about himself. But I'm here right now, and a hell of a lot more forgiving than the drink if you ask me. I just don't understand why...
[Why I'm not good enough, she doesn't say.]
no subject
What difference does it make?! Someday you will disappear too! You, Felih, even Hythlodaeus is dead! Everyone dies! Except for me, who craves death desperately enough to invite you to be the instrument of my own downfall, only for even that to be denied me!
[ He slumps forward on the table, nearly knocking over his glass, head buried in folded arms.
no more, no more, no more ]
no subject
Stop. Please...
no subject
This is the curse of immortality. The curse of an enduring life. He would rather die than know further loss. ]
no subject
It's hard, isn't it? Time is a gift, yet such an inevitable cruelty...
Difficult a pill though it is to swallow, it's true that she probably isn't enough on her own to soothe him. But she can't bear to let go, either.]
no subject
Eventually, she will feel his hand cover hers and grasp it. ]
I'm sorry...
no subject
[She murmurs it into his back, careful not to let her voice crack. He can't help it. Neither can she. But she has to hold up for him, at least until she can get back to her own place.]
I know. I miss him too. Just let me take care of the plants, okay? I'm no green thumb normally, but I'll figure it out.
no subject
[ He slowly pulls himself up off the table, staring despondently at the wine. He feels little urge to drink it now.
Perhaps he was right. Perhaps life is meaningless after all... ]
Help me finish the bottle first.
no subject
[She doesn't expect that request, but logically, if some of it goes to her, less of it goes to him. And... it can't hurt, right? It's not like she'll get tipsy off one glass. Probably.
So, without moving too far, she reaches over him to pour herself a glass one-handedly. When she finishes and moves back, she looks at him.]
Misery loves company, huh?
no subject
The last time I drank with company other than yourself or Felih was in the army. Strong spirits would warm us as we kept vigil in the trenches. Just a sip to relax the mind but not enough to numb it. There was no knowing when a mage would suddenly rain fire upon our heads after all.
no subject
[The lilt in her voice is suggestive. More than a nation or a grand heroic cause, it's much easier to fight for people you care about, even if on a smaller scale. That's how it is for her, anyway.]
It's not wrong to love and lose, you know.
no subject
But when one loves and loses constantly with each turn of the star, love begins to lose its meaning and loss becomes a bitter medicine to swallow. Better, then, to never love or lose ever again.