A little. Tevinter. He called it a land of history and culture, but also one if dark magic and decadence. He lived in self- imposed exile, however, so I pressed him not. In his mirror he had returned there. For the time being, as I understood it, he belonged to that Inquisition -- as seem to all of these others from his Thedas.
[Henry looks down at his hand gripping his glass in brooding silence for a short moment, then abruptly says:]
In truth, we were newly friends. I knew Dorian not all that well. But. [He pauses, then in a low voice confesses:] I liked him. I liked him in a way that I do not usually like people. Easily, I suppose. I... wanted to know him better.
[Truthfully, Maketh doesn't know many of the people from Thedas. She had a conversation once with Cole that had left her shaken and sad in the aftermath, and once spoke with the Inquisitor herself - but those encounters had been brief. Quiet.
She drinks slowly.] It's hard for you to trust others.
[She doesn't blame Henry for that. It's simply a fact.]
He seemed a good man, from what little I knew of him. Perhaps...perhaps his mirror showed a bit of the truth.
[Henry scoffs derisively at Maketh's first comment -- though it is directed at himself rather than her. He cannot abide self-delusion. His lack of trust is a flaw of his, and one that should be fixed. It is a slow struggle.]
He was, without question. That was clear from our first meeting.
[Henry lifts his gaze and looks back to Maketh, shaking off some of his melancholy. She is right, of course.]
'Tis hardly his end.
[Just the end for them. But that, ultimately, is bearable, because he knows that Dorian is alive and has a future.]
No. But that doesn't mean you can't miss him. [Perhaps it's better for Dorian, in the long run. He had plans for his home - ambitions and hopes of his own. That much Maketh understands. She liked Dorian, for what little they spoke. His honestly, the way he'd smiled so easily. Rare talents in any world.
Maketh finishes her glass with a sigh.] Would you go home right now, if you could?
I would be tempted. [He says slowly, with blunt honesty. It would be a temptation like no other. Even now, there is homesickness in his voice at the thought.] But I honour my vows. No sooner than when we have wrested control of the Door, vanquished our enemies, and hold the city undisputed shall I depart by choice.
[That is how he defines their victorious 'until the end'. A foundation set for Maketh's mirror vision. He is no knight at all if he leaves before then by his own decision.]
[Even when she posed the question, it had been more idle speculation. Maketh nearly drops her glass when she hears the answer, staring at Henry in astonishment.
Perhaps it's unwarranted. He is a knight, after all, and such folk are bond by their word. But---
Well. Maketh hardly expected him to stay, if there was a chance to return home.
But he'll stay. Because of the oath he made with her.
She sets her glass down with some finality. The weight of that decision is clear to her now.] You are truly one of a kind, Henry Percy. And I am honored to have you at my side. To whatever end.
[Henry is initially puzzled by Maketh's astonishment. Then he huffs sharply, when it occurs to him why she reacts that way. Yet his affront quickly softens into a fond exasperation -- by now he is more than aware there is a culture difference between them.
Despite his overarching mood, he gives Maketh a wry half-smile.]
The end that we determine.
[That he fully means. They should have confidence that they can achieve their goals.
...Still, Henry cannot let her outburst go without remark. After a moment to acknowledge the sincerity of her words and the mutual honour, he gives comment.]
Try not to suggest that my promises are trifling.
[There is a biting edge to his tease, but it's obviously just teasing by the way that he simultaneously nudges her.]
[Maketh gives him a little smile, leaning against his side. She likes that she can do that here, that Henry is here at all. Someone who trusts her without hesitation, who believes sincerely in their cause.] Never. Sometimes I just forget how different our worlds are. That's all.
'Tis a wonder how little that difference truly matters.
[Maketh is important to him regardless of that distance. Even with the miscommunication it occasionally brings.]
If you were to vanish--
[No loss will ever match the pain of Iamarl's, save for Edward's, but Henry knows with sudden acuteness that he would grieve her. He closes his eyes, his grip on his glass tightening. Her weight and radiating warmth are somehow soothing.]
[Maketh puts her hand on his wrist and squeezes tight. She can't hope to match him in strength of arms, but it's something. Proof of her presence at his side.
Right here, right now - this is what matters.] I won't.
[She rests her head against his shoulder.] And I...I don't think I could, even if we had a choice in the matter. I'm dead on Lothal. This is home now.
[Henry opens his eyes again. He did not know that she was dead in her world. How one comes to terms with that is difficult to imagine. But then, he is very much bound to his land.]
That would explain your mirror.
[Henry looks at her hand on his wrist, then turns his head to watch her on his shoulder.]
Is it? [He asks with a measure of hesitation, somewhat dubious, and concerned that this is all she has.] Feel this like a home to you?
[She's kept it in a drawer in her room, wrapped up in a scarf for safe keeping. Sometimes Maketh takes it out and looks at it, wondering if she'd be allowed to see such things. If it was even possible. But there is always that hope.
She shakes her head slowly.] Not...not really. Or at least not yet. But it could be.
[Maketh smiles a little.] Lilith said I should come to her world when this is done. Be a vault hunter like her. Perhaps I'll do that. See another world.
If you command the Door, then you shall have a great number of worlds at your leisure. Presuming that it can be commanded.
[Henry smiles a little, his gaze growing speculative.]
Is Lilith but a close friend? Or is she a prospect?
[He has a few small snatches of memory from their absurdly drunken night at Delight's bar, and their toast is one. Maketh has only ever spoken of women romantically.
He knows nothing of Lilith, of course. But that invitation sounds more committed than just hosting a visit.]
[If she were younger - or just someone else - then Maketh might be excited at the possibilities. How many words could there be? Would they all look different from hers? For the moment, she's simply curious. There's much to do before she can think of these things.
Maketh sputters at the question, hand flying to her face.] What? I - she is my friend!
[Well. A very good friend. And perhaps - perhaps she's considered it, in a vague way. Maketh covers her eyes with a groan. She doesn't usually talk about these things sober.] I don't know. She's important.
[Considering how frank Maketh has been in the past, it's almost sweet to see her flustered. It is good, too, to have one lighthearted matter at hand, and to know that for her, potential is not prefaced by missed.]
Oh, so you are capable of shyness.
[Henry nudges her closest leg with his own.]
I will say naught else. 'Tis between us -- though I ought to thank Lilith soon.
[Talk of such things, in Maketh's opinion, is best done with alcohol if it's to be done at all. She thumps her head against his shoulder. Perhaps this is what having a sibling is like.] Mhmph. Yes, well.
[Not that he is ignoring Lilith's assistance during Rage's curse, but that had been purely coincidental -- a simple consequence of her wanting to kill his assailant, convenient to them both but not born from any real desire to help. It had been Dorian who had extracted him from that peril.]
[There was that. Maketh stays quiet for a moment, trying not to remember too vividly. It wasn't the first time she'd been near death, but perhaps the first time that power - raw, untapped power - had been aimed straight for her. She'd been lucky to get Chris out of the way in time, even if it had ended up hurting his knee all over again.]
[Henry sets down his glass and gets up. It does not take him long to retrieve the cards, so he soon settles back into place on the sofa. He opens up the pack and begins shuffling the cards. All fours, he thinks, or cent.]
Prefer you a quick game or a challenging one? Forfeits or none?
[Winner gets to pose a question of their choosing, perhaps.]
[Maketh leans back, watching him curiously. She played holo-chess from time to time on Lothal, but rarely card games.] Hmm. Something simple for now. But...forfeits, yes. It might as well be interesting.
[He explains the rules for her, then shifts to one corner of the chair, resting his back against the arm and folding his legs up. He deals them six cards each.]
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mismanagement) wrote2016-01-25 02:02 pm
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[Henry looks down at his hand gripping his glass in brooding silence for a short moment, then abruptly says:]
In truth, we were newly friends. I knew Dorian not all that well. But. [He pauses, then in a low voice confesses:] I liked him. I liked him in a way that I do not usually like people. Easily, I suppose. I... wanted to know him better.
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She drinks slowly.] It's hard for you to trust others.
[She doesn't blame Henry for that. It's simply a fact.]
He seemed a good man, from what little I knew of him. Perhaps...perhaps his mirror showed a bit of the truth.
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He was, without question. That was clear from our first meeting.
[Henry lifts his gaze and looks back to Maketh, shaking off some of his melancholy. She is right, of course.]
'Tis hardly his end.
[Just the end for them. But that, ultimately, is bearable, because he knows that Dorian is alive and has a future.]
Godspeed to him.
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Maketh finishes her glass with a sigh.] Would you go home right now, if you could?
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Henry sips his drink, weighing her question.]
I would be tempted. [He says slowly, with blunt honesty. It would be a temptation like no other. Even now, there is homesickness in his voice at the thought.] But I honour my vows. No sooner than when we have wrested control of the Door, vanquished our enemies, and hold the city undisputed shall I depart by choice.
[That is how he defines their victorious 'until the end'. A foundation set for Maketh's mirror vision. He is no knight at all if he leaves before then by his own decision.]
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Perhaps it's unwarranted. He is a knight, after all, and such folk are bond by their word. But---
Well. Maketh hardly expected him to stay, if there was a chance to return home.
But he'll stay. Because of the oath he made with her.
She sets her glass down with some finality. The weight of that decision is clear to her now.] You are truly one of a kind, Henry Percy. And I am honored to have you at my side. To whatever end.
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Despite his overarching mood, he gives Maketh a wry half-smile.]
The end that we determine.
[That he fully means. They should have confidence that they can achieve their goals.
...Still, Henry cannot let her outburst go without remark. After a moment to acknowledge the sincerity of her words and the mutual honour, he gives comment.]
Try not to suggest that my promises are trifling.
[There is a biting edge to his tease, but it's obviously just teasing by the way that he simultaneously nudges her.]
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[Maketh is important to him regardless of that distance. Even with the miscommunication it occasionally brings.]
If you were to vanish--
[No loss will ever match the pain of Iamarl's, save for Edward's, but Henry knows with sudden acuteness that he would grieve her. He closes his eyes, his grip on his glass tightening. Her weight and radiating warmth are somehow soothing.]
Do not.
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Right here, right now - this is what matters.] I won't.
[She rests her head against his shoulder.] And I...I don't think I could, even if we had a choice in the matter. I'm dead on Lothal. This is home now.
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[Henry opens his eyes again. He did not know that she was dead in her world. How one comes to terms with that is difficult to imagine. But then, he is very much bound to his land.]
That would explain your mirror.
[Henry looks at her hand on his wrist, then turns his head to watch her on his shoulder.]
Is it? [He asks with a measure of hesitation, somewhat dubious, and concerned that this is all she has.] Feel this like a home to you?
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[She's kept it in a drawer in her room, wrapped up in a scarf for safe keeping. Sometimes Maketh takes it out and looks at it, wondering if she'd be allowed to see such things. If it was even possible. But there is always that hope.
She shakes her head slowly.] Not...not really. Or at least not yet. But it could be.
[Maketh smiles a little.] Lilith said I should come to her world when this is done. Be a vault hunter like her. Perhaps I'll do that. See another world.
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[Henry smiles a little, his gaze growing speculative.]
Is Lilith but a close friend? Or is she a prospect?
[He has a few small snatches of memory from their absurdly drunken night at Delight's bar, and their toast is one. Maketh has only ever spoken of women romantically.
He knows nothing of Lilith, of course. But that invitation sounds more committed than just hosting a visit.]
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[If she were younger - or just someone else - then Maketh might be excited at the possibilities. How many words could there be? Would they all look different from hers? For the moment, she's simply curious. There's much to do before she can think of these things.
Maketh sputters at the question, hand flying to her face.] What? I - she is my friend!
[Well. A very good friend. And perhaps - perhaps she's considered it, in a vague way. Maketh covers her eyes with a groan. She doesn't usually talk about these things sober.] I don't know. She's important.
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Oh, so you are capable of shyness.
[Henry nudges her closest leg with his own.]
I will say naught else. 'Tis between us -- though I ought to thank Lilith soon.
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[Maketh pauses.] Thank her for - ?
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[Not that he is ignoring Lilith's assistance during Rage's curse, but that had been purely coincidental -- a simple consequence of her wanting to kill his assailant, convenient to them both but not born from any real desire to help. It had been Dorian who had extracted him from that peril.]
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[There was that. Maketh stays quiet for a moment, trying not to remember too vividly. It wasn't the first time she'd been near death, but perhaps the first time that power - raw, untapped power - had been aimed straight for her. She'd been lucky to get Chris out of the way in time, even if it had ended up hurting his knee all over again.]
She did. I was - lucky, that she came.
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[He did not let her in to leave her miserable too. Henry tops up his glass, and pours Maketh a second.]
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[It is not just talent, dedication and hard work that have made him the calibre of knight he is, but also a genuine love of the knightly arts.]
But that will not do for us now. Play you card games? I chanced upon a deck.
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[Henry sets down his glass and gets up. It does not take him long to retrieve the cards, so he soon settles back into place on the sofa. He opens up the pack and begins shuffling the cards. All fours, he thinks, or cent.]
Prefer you a quick game or a challenging one? Forfeits or none?
[Winner gets to pose a question of their choosing, perhaps.]
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let's just handwave the details of play
[He explains the rules for her, then shifts to one corner of the chair, resting his back against the arm and folding his legs up. He deals them six cards each.]
Are you prepared?
sounds good!