[He reaches up and dabs at her cheek with a napkin.]
Naturally. Well, and you might still be correct by calling me daft, but not for that reason.
[He's glad she's smiling again, though. One step at a time.]
You're right. We really were... so lonely. Raha did his best, but there isn't really anyone who understands. [No one besides Ardbert, who has been silent ever since he came here. Maybe his soul was still out there somewhere, floating in the void, waiting to be reborn.]
I still see some marks. [He draws his fingertips over them so lightly they may as well be a breeze, and hums a little melody, and what do you know-- healing magic, warm and soft like him, washes over the bruises and makes them disappear.]
[The answer is yes. Constantly. If he didn't want her to roast him, he shouldn't try to give a god a lap dance. But, she's got some of her bite back, and that's a good sign. She's still her.]
[She takes a look at her arm. They're gone. They're really gone.]
It's perfect, thank you.
[She pauses, moving her hand uncertainly over her now healed arm.]
Truth be told, I wasn't sure if I should heal the scars or not. Part of me felt--I deserved them. I know that what they said down there was rubbish, I know that they were just trying to keep me down there. But it felt like there was a kernel of truth to it. Why should I stay alive when so many before me had died?
I never did have a talent for healing magic. Not like you. I'm glad I can help this time.
[Then she has to say that. He stares at her for a moment. He doesn't want to call her crazy, but that's crazy talk, exactly the kind of bullshit he'd expect from people like Krusnik.
He is no longer smiling. All the lightheartedness leaves his tone and his voice.
Amal looks so cold when he's angry, in such contrast to the warmth that he usually exudes.]
Don't you dare. Don't you dare say that again, don't even think it.
Yes, we've survived when so many other people haven't. Some of it was raw luck, but some of it was other people giving their lives and entrusting their will to us. If you lay down and die just because some evil tells you to, then what was their sacrifice for?
We carry the weight of their dreams on our shoulders. We carry the burden of the lives we've taken. And for that, we must live. Live as long as possible, and do all the good we can, and live for all of them because they aren't here with us any longer!
[He sucks in a breath. He knows he shouldn't get angry at Rose, so he's-- trying to do what Sorey taught him to, and take deep breaths, and think through what he wants to say. When he speaks again, his voice is very quiet.]
Know this, my children. There is more ugliness than beauty in this world.
To live is to suffer. To drink of calamity and drown in anguish. To toil and be tested, always and ever.
'Tis a perilous path you walk. Death lurks in the dark, and is the sole promise that awaits at journey's end. You will tremble with terror. You will weep tears of anger and despair but do not avert your eyes. See your life for what it is.
Then you will see how the hardships make you strong. Every doubt reforged as scales for your armor. Every agony to temper your blade.
... Those words were given to us by a goddess a long time ago. When I was beaten within an inch of my life, laying bloodied and broken beneath the deck of the ship, I... remembered.
So I want you to remember those words, too. Hold them close. Let them keep you going. Please, Rose. You have to live.
[Rose is struggling to fight back tears. It's not that she's scared of Amal, or even that she's upset with him. It's that he's right. People had given up their lives to protect her, and to wallow in her misery now would be to make light of their sacrifice.]
I--thank you. I needed to hear that.
[It strikes Rose how different they are. When she'd heard those words from Hydaelyn, aboard a boat that she'd somehow snuck onto, they'd originally appeared as a threat. But to Amal, they must have been a ray of hope. She really has been a spoiled brat all this time, hasn't she?]
[Unfortunately, there are some aspects of her personality she refuses to throw away. And her stubbornness is among them. She dabs her eyes, wiping away any trace of tears.]
I won't be so foolish to throw my life away. Haurchefant--no, none of them--don't deserve that.
[It's a promise. To herself. She cracks a small smile.]
[He would never call Rose spoiled, but it's clear that she needs some help finding her spark to keep going sometimes. They all do. Amal knows he's definitely had points where he just wanted to lay down and die, post-Zenos being one of them, but then he made it through. And he knows that giving up just isn't a damn choice anymore. It's not.
He won't stop 'til he's dead. Maybe not even then.
He pulls a crimson silk handkerchief out of nowhere and dabs at her cheeks with it, then presses it into her hand.]
They entrusted you with their legacy because they believed. Even if you can't believe in yourself, you can always believe in them.
[He doesn't even hesitate when she asks. He pulls her into a hug. He smells faintly like cinnamon and leather.]
... I was so afraid I'd lost you and Takame. You've already gone through so much.
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no subject
Naturally. Well, and you might still be correct by calling me daft, but not for that reason.
[He's glad she's smiling again, though. One step at a time.]
You're right. We really were... so lonely. Raha did his best, but there isn't really anyone who understands. [No one besides Ardbert, who has been silent ever since he came here. Maybe his soul was still out there somewhere, floating in the void, waiting to be reborn.]
I still see some marks. [He draws his fingertips over them so lightly they may as well be a breeze, and hums a little melody, and what do you know-- healing magic, warm and soft like him, washes over the bruises and makes them disappear.]
How is that?
cw: aftereffects of brainwashing
[The answer is yes. Constantly. If he didn't want her to roast him, he shouldn't try to give a god a lap dance. But, she's got some of her bite back, and that's a good sign. She's still her.]
[She takes a look at her arm. They're gone. They're really gone.]
It's perfect, thank you.
[She pauses, moving her hand uncertainly over her now healed arm.]
Truth be told, I wasn't sure if I should heal the scars or not. Part of me felt--I deserved them. I know that what they said down there was rubbish, I know that they were just trying to keep me down there. But it felt like there was a kernel of truth to it. Why should I stay alive when so many before me had died?
cw: abuse also 1/2
[He says it with such confidence...]
I never did have a talent for healing magic. Not like you. I'm glad I can help this time.
[Then she has to say that. He stares at her for a moment. He doesn't want to call her crazy, but that's crazy talk, exactly the kind of bullshit he'd expect from people like Krusnik.
He is no longer smiling. All the lightheartedness leaves his tone and his voice.
Amal looks so cold when he's angry, in such contrast to the warmth that he usually exudes.]
Don't you dare. Don't you dare say that again, don't even think it.
Yes, we've survived when so many other people haven't. Some of it was raw luck, but some of it was other people giving their lives and entrusting their will to us. If you lay down and die just because some evil tells you to, then what was their sacrifice for?
We carry the weight of their dreams on our shoulders. We carry the burden of the lives we've taken. And for that, we must live. Live as long as possible, and do all the good we can, and live for all of them because they aren't here with us any longer!
Giving up isn't an option. It never was.
2/2
Know this, my children. There is more ugliness than beauty in this world.
To live is to suffer. To drink of calamity and drown in anguish. To toil and be tested, always and ever.
'Tis a perilous path you walk. Death lurks in the dark, and is the sole promise that awaits at journey's end. You will tremble with terror. You will weep tears of anger and despair but do not avert your eyes. See your life for what it is.
Then you will see how the hardships make you strong. Every doubt reforged as scales for your armor. Every agony to temper your blade.
... Those words were given to us by a goddess a long time ago. When I was beaten within an inch of my life, laying bloodied and broken beneath the deck of the ship, I... remembered.
So I want you to remember those words, too. Hold them close. Let them keep you going. Please, Rose. You have to live.
no subject
I--thank you. I needed to hear that.
[It strikes Rose how different they are. When she'd heard those words from Hydaelyn, aboard a boat that she'd somehow snuck onto, they'd originally appeared as a threat. But to Amal, they must have been a ray of hope. She really has been a spoiled brat all this time, hasn't she?]
[Unfortunately, there are some aspects of her personality she refuses to throw away. And her stubbornness is among them. She dabs her eyes, wiping away any trace of tears.]
I won't be so foolish to throw my life away. Haurchefant--no, none of them--don't deserve that.
[It's a promise. To herself. She cracks a small smile.]
By chance, is that offer for a hug still open?
no subject
He won't stop 'til he's dead. Maybe not even then.
He pulls a crimson silk handkerchief out of nowhere and dabs at her cheeks with it, then presses it into her hand.]
They entrusted you with their legacy because they believed. Even if you can't believe in yourself, you can always believe in them.
[He doesn't even hesitate when she asks. He pulls her into a hug. He smells faintly like cinnamon and leather.]
... I was so afraid I'd lost you and Takame. You've already gone through so much.