The scene is a chilly one, to be sure. No comfort to be had in the high halls and exquisite art, and no love between family.
Her shoulders hitch as the woman lays down her accusations. As Dion is forced to listen, do nothing as this woman debases him.]
That's enough! [She shouts, but of course the memory keeps playing. She should know better, she's done this sort of thing before, but it rankles her so much.
And what of this "Bahamut" she keeps referring to?
When the vision fades she moves to his side at once, one hand to his shoulder.]
[ sorry to give you a second memory before you even gave me one, but i'll let the rift answer the question for him. kabby please feel free not to respond and just give me a memory straight back!
but for now... they return to the audience chamber.
Now, there is one thing you know: that there have only been two people in your life who have loved you. The second is Terence, a better man than you have ever deserved, and whose youth you greedily enjoyed.
But the first is your father, the only family have ever had. Your father, who kept you from the streets of Oriflamme, took you in though you were not of his wife, and raised you as a prince of Sanbreque.
And there is your father, your lance through his chest.
All at once your heart cracks, twenty-eight years of grief, pain, love and loneliness flooding your veins like poison and corroding away the tight control with which you keep Bahamut's power in check.
[ at once, dion feels as though he understands and he doesn't. how can these fairies have such narrow vision, to think that rosamund must walk a certain path or surrender to corruption?
but then, sometimes there is only ever one path. one road to walk on.
and there is always someone held up, bleeding and made to be collateral to enforce compliance.
he looks at her, sympathetic. ]
I am glad, Rosamund, that you did not bow to their machinations. I much prefer the person you have chosen to be to the one they tried to make you.
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The scene is a chilly one, to be sure. No comfort to be had in the high halls and exquisite art, and no love between family.
Her shoulders hitch as the woman lays down her accusations. As Dion is forced to listen, do nothing as this woman debases him.]
That's enough! [She shouts, but of course the memory keeps playing. She should know better, she's done this sort of thing before, but it rankles her so much.
And what of this "Bahamut" she keeps referring to?
When the vision fades she moves to his side at once, one hand to his shoulder.]
Dion, was that your stepmother?
[Were ALL stepmothers evil?]
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his expression is tight, though it eases when his attention shifts from the memory to rosamund, the hand on his shoulder grounding him. ]
... That's correct. A most terrible addition to my family's household.
[ granted his household had just been him and his father before ]
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[That sort of cruelty was never part of her story. Others, though...]
And did she really frame you for plotting against your father?
[It sounded like a threat in the moment, but it could have been realized thereafter.]
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[ he purses his lips a moment before shaking his head. ]
I played that part myself, just as she had been hoping, I am sure, and led a rebellion against her. Though I had no intention of deposing my father.
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She was clever. And you cared too much to not do something. That's all right. Your heart was in the right place, Dion, don't doubt that for a minute.
What happened after?
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[ sorry to give you a second memory before you even gave me one, but i'll let the rift answer the question for him. kabby please feel free not to respond and just give me a memory straight back!
but for now... they return to the audience chamber.
But the first is your father, the only family have ever had. Your father, who kept you from the streets of Oriflamme, took you in though you were not of his wife, and raised you as a prince of Sanbreque.
And there is your father, your lance through his chest.
"... Kinslayer."
All at once your heart cracks, twenty-eight years of grief, pain, love and loneliness flooding your veins like poison and corroding away the tight control with which you keep Bahamut's power in check.
Tonight, the eikon wins the battle of wills, and the great wyrm rises over the city of Twinside.
The sight of the city ablaze fades first, but the sounds of the people screaming linger a moment longer. ]
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but then, sometimes there is only ever one path. one road to walk on.
and there is always someone held up, bleeding and made to be collateral to enforce compliance.
he looks at her, sympathetic. ]
I am glad, Rosamund, that you did not bow to their machinations. I much prefer the person you have chosen to be to the one they tried to make you.