I mean it. [She nods, still going on with her precious earnesty.] Sometimes, people are just mean. And they're not going to stop, and they're not going to change, and sometimes, in the moment or on the battlefield, or if they're about to something crazy? The only thing you can do is get rid of them.
I don't like it, but I'd rather keep more people safe than protect one real nasty character. And I didn't like this "father" of yours at all.
[she starts, and hesitates. it's hard, because - he's the only father she's ever had. it's so hard to untangle it, to take her experience as a child and look at it with the eyes of an adult, to think that what he did to her outbalanced the good times. sometimes, he was nice. sometimes, he bought her toys, or brought her fresh fruit, and other times, he handed her a dagger and said cut, and there was no argument she could make without getting the whip, until she just stopped arguing. sweet, obedient throné.
she struggles now. but.]
I suppose I didn't like him either. [she says finally, but she's... sad. she's always so sad.]
[That grip to her shoulders moves up to her cheeks, thumbs smoothing the elegant arches there.]
It's okay to feel two ways about it, too. Maybe even three.
[What she wouldn't give to change her story. Offer her the good parts of her own. She'd been a happy child at least, well loved. She knows it's not the case for everyone.]
Family is complicated. No matter what shape it comes in.
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help me, dreamwidth!!!
... Yes. [but she's kind of unsteady with it.] I wasn't the only one.
[like that makes it any better. she rests her hand on the collar around her neck.]
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The only one of his children? Or... [Father could just be a name. Dark, but it was true.] Were you only his "children" if he picked you to be?
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[a beat, and then she kind of laughs a little.]
Something like that. There were a lot of us, and he wasn't... he isn't my father. But I was his favorite.
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[It breaks her heart to imagine. It's a vile thing to ask of someone grown. Monstrous to demand of a child.
And the way he'd looked at her. How she says she was his "favourite." It's enough to send chills up her spine.]
How long were you working for him?
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Until I killed him. [she says this kind of like in the tone of shrugs.]
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Then she sets both hands on her shoulders and looks her dead in the eye.]
Good.
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Hah. That's a new reaction. [fond...]
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I don't like it, but I'd rather keep more people safe than protect one real nasty character. And I didn't like this "father" of yours at all.
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[she starts, and hesitates. it's hard, because - he's the only father she's ever had. it's so hard to untangle it, to take her experience as a child and look at it with the eyes of an adult, to think that what he did to her outbalanced the good times. sometimes, he was nice. sometimes, he bought her toys, or brought her fresh fruit, and other times, he handed her a dagger and said cut, and there was no argument she could make without getting the whip, until she just stopped arguing. sweet, obedient throné.
she struggles now. but.]
I suppose I didn't like him either. [she says finally, but she's... sad. she's always so sad.]
no subject
[That grip to her shoulders moves up to her cheeks, thumbs smoothing the elegant arches there.]
It's okay to feel two ways about it, too. Maybe even three.
[What she wouldn't give to change her story. Offer her the good parts of her own. She'd been a happy child at least, well loved. She knows it's not the case for everyone.]
Family is complicated. No matter what shape it comes in.