[Henry continues to stroke Maketh's hair tenderly. For a brief moment for what, precisely? sits heavily on the tip of tongue, and he can all but taste the bitterness of those words. But she is vulnerable and he does not truly want to hurt her, so the dissipate as quickly as they formed.
He nods instead, acknowledging her apology.]
No vile deed was done. That is what matters.
[It's not exactly all right — this has become a terrible mess of a birthday — but it is what it is. He will take care of her because he wants to. His deep affection for her is not conditional.
But no small part of him wishes that he was in France, tipsy and laughing with Edward, or in Northumberland, utterly drunk in their private rooms and tussling with Ralph while Alan and Margaret placed bets.
Anywhere than this wretched city.]
Rest, sister. Enough has happened today. Our remaining concerns can wait.
[I'll be better, Maketh wants to say. I won't do it again, I'll find another way. But those words ring too close to empty and she's not certain - not really - that she won't falter again. She hates knowing that about herself, that she hesitates when it matters most. Either she cannot commit to an act or she swears to the wrong one entirely. She wants to do right by the Guard and Henry - stars, she wants so badly not to disappoint him - but--
Well. What she intends is not always what she does. And that is entirely on her.
She's sorry. She even told him so, for all the good it does. Apologies are confusing things for Maketh - why would words change things when the deed has already been done - but she tried, nonetheless.
Perhaps it helped.
She closes her eyes.]
Edward would be proud of you.
[For all that he is and for all that, when it really matters, he refuses to bend.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-05-24 11:21 am (UTC)[To put the notion of torture to rest once and for all.
Henry raises his free hand to stroke his fingers over Maketh's hair.]
Lose not your heart.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-24 01:38 pm (UTC)[That's....something, isn't it? Maketh lifts her head a little.]
I--would be lost without you. I'm sorry, Henry.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-24 11:00 pm (UTC)He nods instead, acknowledging her apology.]
No vile deed was done. That is what matters.
[It's not exactly all right — this has become a terrible mess of a birthday — but it is what it is. He will take care of her because he wants to. His deep affection for her is not conditional.
But no small part of him wishes that he was in France, tipsy and laughing with Edward, or in Northumberland, utterly drunk in their private rooms and tussling with Ralph while Alan and Margaret placed bets.
Anywhere than this wretched city.]
Rest, sister. Enough has happened today. Our remaining concerns can wait.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-24 11:44 pm (UTC)Well. What she intends is not always what she does. And that is entirely on her.
She's sorry. She even told him so, for all the good it does. Apologies are confusing things for Maketh - why would words change things when the deed has already been done - but she tried, nonetheless.
Perhaps it helped.
She closes her eyes.]
Edward would be proud of you.
[For all that he is and for all that, when it really matters, he refuses to bend.]
I hope you know that.