fine. he's about the same. strohl looks like a fucking wreck - upset, angry, clearly only having just managed enough to like, change out of his clothes and shower and try to get his sense about him, but it's not working.
... ]
...'s just me. It's fine. [ his voice is rough, wool-toned, heavy. ]
[She sounds quiet. Trepidatious. Rosamund lets the sour air come to a stand still between then and finishes pouring the pint. Then turns to offer it to him.]
[she's stunned. Stiff in his arms for a moment, blinking wide against the fabric of his shirt.
Then, inexorably, her arms snake around him. She lets her cheek press to his chest and takes a ragged breath. Letting the silence take hold again, but in new tones. Not happier ones, but the bitterness is better shared now.]
[ sometimes, this is all you can do, in the moments after - not experience them alone. sometimes, you can see the careening path someone takes as things start to go horribly wrong because it's the same one you take, the same way you blame yourself.
the least, the very least he can do is try to put up a safety net to catch someone falling the same way he falls. when she settles, he leans over her a little to properly hug her, settling into place too. one hand at the back of her head. deep breath. ]
I know. [ a little squeeze. ] It's not your fault. Alright? It's not.
There's a soft strangled noise, barely perceptible with how well she smothers it. It's not helped by the tenderness with which he holds her. Things he ought not do. Considering who she is and what she's done. Even just considering the state of him.
Yet he's still here. Still bolstering her. Still going miles out of his way to come find her and give her the comfort that should belong to better friends. Better people.
Is she still watching us now? Does it make her sick sometimes, seeing you embrace me?]
...I still put their name forward. Didn't I? [She swallows. Tries to keep steady.] We only had ten minutes left. If that. Haru and Ryo were right. It was stupid. So stupid.
his brow furrows, the hug a little tighter. protective. someone had to talk strohl through this too, already, and it helped to clear his head - now he can pass that same thing to rosamund. to help, to help, to help. ]
And what would have happened, had you not? Someone else would have fallen to the same fate. [ considering. his voice is a little tight, but it's not anger - just something bone deep upset with the horrors of what was done, and with how impossible it is to take back. ]
We do not do this alone, your highness. You are not a monolith or a ruler, but part of a team. All of us chose what we chose today, and we each bear the burden of that choice.
Besides. While it was chosen, the vote spread was chaotic - Siffrin was barely picked. It's hardly as if you swayed the opinion of our entirety, either. And I know - I know [ intensity on that word there, that same aching ferocity of the punishment of one who'd done nothing wrong, how badly that burns strohl, too ] - that doesn't feel like it matters, but it has to. The cruelty of this damned system is the crux. Not you.
[how do you write so many beautiful long paragraphs so fast sisi
Maybe he's right. Maybe they had no clues in the right direction. Maybe it was doomed to be a failure from the start.
At least they know now what a wrong vote looks like. The announcements for Roxana and Siffrin didn't use the same wording. Instant confirmation.]
I know. [She chokes. Wrenches her eyes shut, letting her fingers curl tight into the back of his jacket.] I know, I know, it's just...I wanted so badly to help. To make things right. And seeing what happened, where my instincts led me?
I can't believe it. They didn't do anything. They're going to die and they didn't do anything!
[ I REALLY DONT as you can see i am tagging this days later,
the tightening of the fingers in his jacket has him doing much the same - his grip is steady and strong, bracing, and she'll feel the way his head turns like in an angry flinch, overwhelmed briefly with fury and injustice. not at her, or her words, but at the situation, the way he'd rather throw himself into that ring than to accuse someone innocent and watch them die for their mistakes. he'd been furious when they thought last week, too. turned out to be wrong.
can't get lucky twice. ]
I know. [ and the alternative was what? artemy, who had died over and over and over? a teenager, who if he did likely did it out of a forced possession? ] I know, I know. It's a farce, the whole damned thing is a farce, and we'll destroy it from the inside out from putting them in this situation in the first place. All of it.
[ his voice is low, affected, trying to let those words ripple through, thinking, and then, softly: ]
We will. [she echoes. There's a strange comfort in the power of his rage. She can't hit the same heights, not with the same force or effect. It's as if he soaks up the pain of the earth and unleashes it in flares, in righteous words. In the need to do right.
It's frightening. And it's admirable. She closes her eyes and listens to the pump of his chest. Even when he questions her, she doesn't lift away.]
...I'll do everything I can to help everyone. To find the truth.
I never wanted to be in Siffrin's position, Strohl. It was never about that. I'd only hoped to spare someone else the pain and shock of it, even just getting a few stray votes. I didn't think it would ever come to this.
anyway. he's quiet for a long moment as she answers him; almost reflexively, his arms tighten. ]
... I know you will. [ strohl's voice is rough when he gets sincere; it's like the intensity of his emotions burns out and leaves something behind, the burnt rubble of halia made in a man. it rumbles in his chest as he speaks quietly. ] And I know what you mean.
[ regarding siffrin's position, about sparing someone else the pain and suffering. he gets it. like so many times before, he gets it. it's so much easier to take the brunt of the pain yourself. it's so much easier not to watch the people you come to love and care for take hit after hit. be forced to dangle along in this cruel game.
a little of the tension comes out of his shoulders, bleeding out in some of the exhaustion, and absently, almost, his hand pets between her shoulder blades, reassuring. bolstering. for her, but maybe for himself, a little, too. his heart beats true for another week, the very same one that became a resonant vessel all those months ago. heart of a warrior, heart of an archetype. ]
That's what I have to hold onto, too. If we can help someone, then we reach out our hand to help them - and if we fail, we never, ever forget what went wrong, but we have to keep moving forward for all that we strive for. We do all we can.
Sometimes it's not enough. But so long as you'll keep trying, your highness, I'll stand right there beside you to the end.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
fine. he's about the same. strohl looks like a fucking wreck - upset, angry, clearly only having just managed enough to like, change out of his clothes and shower and try to get his sense about him, but it's not working.
... ]
...'s just me. It's fine. [ his voice is rough, wool-toned, heavy. ]
no subject
[She sounds quiet. Trepidatious. Rosamund lets the sour air come to a stand still between then and finishes pouring the pint. Then turns to offer it to him.]
no subject
and then steps in and pulls her into a hug. ]
no subject
Then, inexorably, her arms snake around him. She lets her cheek press to his chest and takes a ragged breath. Letting the silence take hold again, but in new tones. Not happier ones, but the bitterness is better shared now.]
no subject
the least, the very least he can do is try to put up a safety net to catch someone falling the same way he falls. when she settles, he leans over her a little to properly hug her, settling into place too. one hand at the back of her head. deep breath. ]
I know. [ a little squeeze. ] It's not your fault. Alright? It's not.
no subject
There's a soft strangled noise, barely perceptible with how well she smothers it. It's not helped by the tenderness with which he holds her. Things he ought not do. Considering who she is and what she's done. Even just considering the state of him.
Yet he's still here. Still bolstering her. Still going miles out of his way to come find her and give her the comfort that should belong to better friends. Better people.
Is she still watching us now? Does it make her sick sometimes, seeing you embrace me?]
...I still put their name forward. Didn't I? [She swallows. Tries to keep steady.] We only had ten minutes left. If that. Haru and Ryo were right. It was stupid. So stupid.
no subject
his brow furrows, the hug a little tighter. protective. someone had to talk strohl through this too, already, and it helped to clear his head - now he can pass that same thing to rosamund. to help, to help, to help. ]
And what would have happened, had you not? Someone else would have fallen to the same fate. [ considering. his voice is a little tight, but it's not anger - just something bone deep upset with the horrors of what was done, and with how impossible it is to take back. ]
We do not do this alone, your highness. You are not a monolith or a ruler, but part of a team. All of us chose what we chose today, and we each bear the burden of that choice.
Besides. While it was chosen, the vote spread was chaotic - Siffrin was barely picked. It's hardly as if you swayed the opinion of our entirety, either. And I know - I know [ intensity on that word there, that same aching ferocity of the punishment of one who'd done nothing wrong, how badly that burns strohl, too ] - that doesn't feel like it matters, but it has to. The cruelty of this damned system is the crux. Not you.
no subject
Maybe he's right. Maybe they had no clues in the right direction. Maybe it was doomed to be a failure from the start.
At least they know now what a wrong vote looks like. The announcements for Roxana and Siffrin didn't use the same wording. Instant confirmation.]
I know. [She chokes. Wrenches her eyes shut, letting her fingers curl tight into the back of his jacket.] I know, I know, it's just...I wanted so badly to help. To make things right. And seeing what happened, where my instincts led me?
I can't believe it. They didn't do anything. They're going to die and they didn't do anything!
no subject
the tightening of the fingers in his jacket has him doing much the same - his grip is steady and strong, bracing, and she'll feel the way his head turns like in an angry flinch, overwhelmed briefly with fury and injustice. not at her, or her words, but at the situation, the way he'd rather throw himself into that ring than to accuse someone innocent and watch them die for their mistakes. he'd been furious when they thought last week, too. turned out to be wrong.
can't get lucky twice. ]
I know. [ and the alternative was what? artemy, who had died over and over and over? a teenager, who if he did likely did it out of a forced possession? ] I know, I know. It's a farce, the whole damned thing is a farce, and we'll destroy it from the inside out from putting them in this situation in the first place. All of it.
[ his voice is low, affected, trying to let those words ripple through, thinking, and then, softly: ]
...Are you going to stop trying to help?
no subject
We will. [she echoes. There's a strange comfort in the power of his rage. She can't hit the same heights, not with the same force or effect. It's as if he soaks up the pain of the earth and unleashes it in flares, in righteous words. In the need to do right.
It's frightening. And it's admirable. She closes her eyes and listens to the pump of his chest. Even when he questions her, she doesn't lift away.]
...I'll do everything I can to help everyone. To find the truth.
I never wanted to be in Siffrin's position, Strohl. It was never about that. I'd only hoped to spare someone else the pain and shock of it, even just getting a few stray votes. I didn't think it would ever come to this.
no subject
anyway. he's quiet for a long moment as she answers him; almost reflexively, his arms tighten. ]
... I know you will. [ strohl's voice is rough when he gets sincere; it's like the intensity of his emotions burns out and leaves something behind, the burnt rubble of halia made in a man. it rumbles in his chest as he speaks quietly. ] And I know what you mean.
[ regarding siffrin's position, about sparing someone else the pain and suffering. he gets it. like so many times before, he gets it. it's so much easier to take the brunt of the pain yourself. it's so much easier not to watch the people you come to love and care for take hit after hit. be forced to dangle along in this cruel game.
a little of the tension comes out of his shoulders, bleeding out in some of the exhaustion, and absently, almost, his hand pets between her shoulder blades, reassuring. bolstering. for her, but maybe for himself, a little, too. his heart beats true for another week, the very same one that became a resonant vessel all those months ago. heart of a warrior, heart of an archetype. ]
That's what I have to hold onto, too. If we can help someone, then we reach out our hand to help them - and if we fail, we never, ever forget what went wrong, but we have to keep moving forward for all that we strive for. We do all we can.
Sometimes it's not enough. But so long as you'll keep trying, your highness, I'll stand right there beside you to the end.