[ Careful not to tell people how kind she really is, Albert. She's got a reputation to uphold. ]
In my house, eating my food, enjoying my company. Why would anything change?
[ She's not frowning, though her voice is the sound of a stern lecture waiting to happen, laced with her natural impatience. She waves at the food, just as she's grabbing the drink he's bought to pop it open and pour for them both in the appropriate glasses. ]
[Screw reputations right now. He doesn't care at all. He does sit, though, and waits a moment for her to join him before he rather awkwardly serves himself. You can take the man out of the nobility, but...]
I won't drop dead. I'm simply tired. You wound me so.
[He smiles though, as he says that.]
Well, not that I would have it any other way. You see, I rather like the way you talk to me.
[ She snorts. And somehow, it is, seeing as she's managed to worm her way into friendships she didn't think was possible — here, and back home.
She digs into her own creation, ingredients only somewhat similar to the ones she typically uses back in Eos — and hope to all gods that they taste the same, anyway. It sure was a ride to find the noctium-equivalent of anak meat. ]
If you can't sleep at your own place, stay here. [ A beat. ] I have a guest room.
[He tries the food now--remarkably good--and gives her an approving look. She really is splendid. He wonders faintly if he'll remember her if he returns home.]
I do appreciate the offer. If need arises, you'll be the first one I come to. [A thoughtful pause.] I found out something unfortunate from my brothers and I'm having a difficult time with it. That's the shortest version of events.
[ She admits, after her own bout of thoughtful silence. It wouldn't have been as intense as his connection with Ignis, but she'd have felt that twinge. The feeling of Albert's feelings intensifying from so far a distance. ]
I won't ask if you don't want to tell me, If you can think you can work through it, then that's fine.
[ She takes a sip of her drink, because otherwise she'll say something like I care about you, and look. Let's not. ]
Just tell me, though: I don't need to break some kneecaps, do I?
[He smiles faintly at all of the ways she talks around caring. He won't assume, but it does feel rather like he's being wrapped up in a warm hug when she asks if she needs to break kneecaps. Oh, how he wishes it were that simple.]
No need. It's a tragedy, not a betrayal. [He thinks. He's relatively certain Louis isn't telling him something else, and he can imagine how he reacted to William's death.] My younger brother, William... He arrived here after his entirely unfortunate death. I haven't experienced it in my time, and both he and Louis know a great many things I do not, so they understandably hesitate to tell me.
[For a man she knows to be steadfast and stubborn to a degree, always strong, and more often than not a little bit of a smartass, the next part might be surprising.]
What has me questioning myself is... certainty that I failed them. They don't see it that way, of course. But when an older brother can't protect his younger...
That's fair. Survivor's guilt is a nasty experience. All you can do is deal with that grief as best as you can -- as long as you make that effort count.
[ She looks back down on her half-eaten plate. For a woman as decisive and certain as her, it might've been the last thing he would've expected to come out of her mouth. ]
As for your brothers... [ She pauses. She doesn't have to tell him that they do it out of love. It's obvious he knows it. ] There's some experiences and memories words can't do justice. You'd need to live it to understand, especially if it involves you.
[ She thinks of Ignis' eyes, Nyx and Lunafreya's death, and Ravus' fate. ]
Mmm. That's probably true, no matter how much my mind rails against it. Surviving him was never part of the plan.
[Plan? What plan? He smiles it off, sadly and thinly.]
I always thought I'd die for my ideals, not William. He deserved so much better. Deserves. [A pause. Albert doesn't know about his own future, and everything is conjecture when he tries to parse it out, but no matter how he looks at it it feels like a betrayal on his part. Jealousy, perhaps? Grief? All of the above?] I hope he finds happiness and comfort here, truly. Pardon me for being so softhearted, but it's all I want for him. That he can forget the past and live wholly here is... A dream I'll carry forever.
[ That's it, then. One of the answers that he's never quite given her, but it's been her instincts — as well as a serendipitous conversation with one Sebastian Moran — guiding her to the right train of thought, until he finally tells her what she's been waiting to hear. Living fully to fulfill his purpose in life, an ideal that he believes is worth is death.
She snorts, leaning back from her seat. ]
Guess I gotta just love the fact that I'm a magnet for self-sacrificing idiots.
[ There's a distinctly sharp flavor to Aranea's brand of sadness as she receives this confirmation — not simply resignation. But there is a twisted kind of wistfulness, as well as recognition, a memory triggered.
She twists to the side and reaches out for Albert, drawing him into a hug like she wants to crush him in her arms, but not quite. ]
Hey -- first of all, make sure you find happiness and comfort here, too, or else there's no point. They're your brothers; you know they'll worry about you, too. It'll be a never-ending cycle of drama. [ She rests her chin on his shoulder. ] I can't help you with what happened in your world, but I sure as hell can help you here. I've been vaguely offering all day, so let me put it clearly now: any time you need me, for anything at all, just come here or give me a call. I'll always answer.
Give my name and number to your brothers. I'll do the same for them.
[He's surprised at the embrace, his eyes widening before they close and his hands settle at her sides. Perhaps all he needed was to hear this again, that his happiness is worth something, and that his ideals are not the only thing worth living for. She has a point, and though he hates to admit how weak he is for needing reassurance, he rests his cheek against her shoulder as well.]
You truly are the most remarkable woman I've ever met. I'll tell William and Louis... as long as you do promise to come meet them when things settle in the coming few days.
[Slowly, his arms wind around her, then he holds her firmly, with all due affection.]
Being here complicates things. I have people I honestly care about who aren't family or otherwise from home, and who would fight my giving up or passing with everything they have. That's... entirely new to me. Even at home, we all did our utmost for the cause we supported. If that meant not surviving, so be it.
[Another pause, and his voice drops.]
Not wanting to die frightens me infinitely more than death ever did.
[ If his brothers are anything like Albert, she's sure she'll like them. And if not — it'd be easy to find something to like about them regardless, just because Albert loves them. ]
Keep me posted.
[ The admission of that fear is what placates her at this moment. Fear is what keeps her alive — as she knows her death, back home, will mean plenty to the people that stick by her. Biggs and Wedge, and the men that've served her through thick and thin — they've always relied on her being alive, because it's her talents that've ultimately brought food on their table, money in their pocket — their lives have always been in her hands. She's always feared what would happen if she suddenly dies.
She's seen what it's like, to sacrifice yourself for a bigger cause, seen firsthand the deaths that come with such a promise. It's something she'll never understand — she's always fought to live. ]
You measured your entire life around your value as a dead man. Means you're starting to learn just how much you're worth when you really live.
[ To others, and ultimately, maybe, to himself. The long road ahead. ]
[His expression softens further, and he pulls Aranea into an embrace of his own. She's brilliant in his eyes, like a star, like the moon in the night sky, silver and ephemeral and ever-changing. Yet somehow always there.]
I'll do everything I can to live. Not knowing what future awaits me is terrible and vexing, but knowing that this, however long it lasts, is another chance for me to correct all my many mistakes makes me feel like it's worth attempting something completely different.
[He hasn't told her what he is. What he's done. But he senses that from the gravity of this, she must know that he's done many things he isn't proud of, and things that would have seen him meet an untimely end by his own will.]
[ She can't refute it now, can she? She was worried, and she still is. The things he's learned is a lot to process, and the development he's undergone in here is just as heavy a situation to bear on his shoulders. ]
Don't be an idiot. Are you that sorry that I care for you? [ She'll hit you if you say yes to that, Albert, so don't you dare. ] Bury yourself in your troubles all you like, if that's how you really wanna cope with it -- I'm just here to point out that there's no harm in sharing them with others, too. You're only human.
[ She pulls back a little, a hand lingering on his face, brushing stray hair away from his eyes. Handsome even in his distress, yet so much more vibrant than the first time she's ever met him.
Her eyes linger on his for a couple of seconds, before she pulls back completely, leaving only her hand on his, squeezing gently. ]
Come on. Finish the food I made for you at least. [ She teases. ] Then I can let you go, I guess.
[He knows he's defeated, just a bit, and that he ought to not try to explain. The food is good, made wonderful by the sentiment. He can't say that he's ever in his life had someone care so directly about his idiotic death wish.]
I'd like to stay for a while, if I could.
[Stay. Lay down with his head on her shoulder, or on her lap. Feel connected and valued for who he is and not reviled for the things he's let pass through his mind. Or perhaps he'll just sleep while she goes about her day, a useless husk that needs to recharge and reevaluate.]
You're so good for me. It might help more than you know.
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no subject
In my house, eating my food, enjoying my company. Why would anything change?
[ She's not frowning, though her voice is the sound of a stern lecture waiting to happen, laced with her natural impatience. She waves at the food, just as she's grabbing the drink he's bought to pop it open and pour for them both in the appropriate glasses. ]
Eat before you drop dead at my dinner table.
no subject
I won't drop dead. I'm simply tired. You wound me so.
[He smiles though, as he says that.]
Well, not that I would have it any other way. You see, I rather like the way you talk to me.
no subject
[ She snorts. And somehow, it is, seeing as she's managed to worm her way into friendships she didn't think was possible — here, and back home.
She digs into her own creation, ingredients only somewhat similar to the ones she typically uses back in Eos — and hope to all gods that they taste the same, anyway. It sure was a ride to find the noctium-equivalent of anak meat. ]
If you can't sleep at your own place, stay here. [ A beat. ] I have a guest room.
no subject
[He tries the food now--remarkably good--and gives her an approving look. She really is splendid. He wonders faintly if he'll remember her if he returns home.]
I do appreciate the offer. If need arises, you'll be the first one I come to. [A thoughtful pause.] I found out something unfortunate from my brothers and I'm having a difficult time with it. That's the shortest version of events.
no subject
[ She admits, after her own bout of thoughtful silence. It wouldn't have been as intense as his connection with Ignis, but she'd have felt that twinge. The feeling of Albert's feelings intensifying from so far a distance. ]
I won't ask if you don't want to tell me, If you can think you can work through it, then that's fine.
[ She takes a sip of her drink, because otherwise she'll say something like I care about you, and look. Let's not. ]
Just tell me, though: I don't need to break some kneecaps, do I?
no subject
No need. It's a tragedy, not a betrayal. [He thinks. He's relatively certain Louis isn't telling him something else, and he can imagine how he reacted to William's death.] My younger brother, William... He arrived here after his entirely unfortunate death. I haven't experienced it in my time, and both he and Louis know a great many things I do not, so they understandably hesitate to tell me.
[For a man she knows to be steadfast and stubborn to a degree, always strong, and more often than not a little bit of a smartass, the next part might be surprising.]
What has me questioning myself is... certainty that I failed them. They don't see it that way, of course. But when an older brother can't protect his younger...
no subject
[ She looks back down on her half-eaten plate. For a woman as decisive and certain as her, it might've been the last thing he would've expected to come out of her mouth. ]
As for your brothers... [ She pauses. She doesn't have to tell him that they do it out of love. It's obvious he knows it. ] There's some experiences and memories words can't do justice. You'd need to live it to understand, especially if it involves you.
[ She thinks of Ignis' eyes, Nyx and Lunafreya's death, and Ravus' fate. ]
no subject
[Plan? What plan? He smiles it off, sadly and thinly.]
I always thought I'd die for my ideals, not William. He deserved so much better. Deserves. [A pause. Albert doesn't know about his own future, and everything is conjecture when he tries to parse it out, but no matter how he looks at it it feels like a betrayal on his part. Jealousy, perhaps? Grief? All of the above?] I hope he finds happiness and comfort here, truly. Pardon me for being so softhearted, but it's all I want for him. That he can forget the past and live wholly here is... A dream I'll carry forever.
no subject
[ That's it, then. One of the answers that he's never quite given her, but it's been her instincts — as well as a serendipitous conversation with one Sebastian Moran — guiding her to the right train of thought, until he finally tells her what she's been waiting to hear. Living fully to fulfill his purpose in life, an ideal that he believes is worth is death.
She snorts, leaning back from her seat. ]
Guess I gotta just love the fact that I'm a magnet for self-sacrificing idiots.
[ There's a distinctly sharp flavor to Aranea's brand of sadness as she receives this confirmation — not simply resignation. But there is a twisted kind of wistfulness, as well as recognition, a memory triggered.
She twists to the side and reaches out for Albert, drawing him into a hug like she wants to crush him in her arms, but not quite. ]
Hey -- first of all, make sure you find happiness and comfort here, too, or else there's no point. They're your brothers; you know they'll worry about you, too. It'll be a never-ending cycle of drama. [ She rests her chin on his shoulder. ] I can't help you with what happened in your world, but I sure as hell can help you here. I've been vaguely offering all day, so let me put it clearly now: any time you need me, for anything at all, just come here or give me a call. I'll always answer.
Give my name and number to your brothers. I'll do the same for them.
no subject
You truly are the most remarkable woman I've ever met. I'll tell William and Louis... as long as you do promise to come meet them when things settle in the coming few days.
[Slowly, his arms wind around her, then he holds her firmly, with all due affection.]
Being here complicates things. I have people I honestly care about who aren't family or otherwise from home, and who would fight my giving up or passing with everything they have. That's... entirely new to me. Even at home, we all did our utmost for the cause we supported. If that meant not surviving, so be it.
[Another pause, and his voice drops.]
Not wanting to die frightens me infinitely more than death ever did.
no subject
[ If his brothers are anything like Albert, she's sure she'll like them. And if not — it'd be easy to find something to like about them regardless, just because Albert loves them. ]
Keep me posted.
[ The admission of that fear is what placates her at this moment. Fear is what keeps her alive — as she knows her death, back home, will mean plenty to the people that stick by her. Biggs and Wedge, and the men that've served her through thick and thin — they've always relied on her being alive, because it's her talents that've ultimately brought food on their table, money in their pocket — their lives have always been in her hands. She's always feared what would happen if she suddenly dies.
She's seen what it's like, to sacrifice yourself for a bigger cause, seen firsthand the deaths that come with such a promise. It's something she'll never understand — she's always fought to live. ]
You measured your entire life around your value as a dead man. Means you're starting to learn just how much you're worth when you really live.
[ To others, and ultimately, maybe, to himself. The long road ahead. ]
I'd hold on to that for as I can, if I were you.
no subject
I'll do everything I can to live. Not knowing what future awaits me is terrible and vexing, but knowing that this, however long it lasts, is another chance for me to correct all my many mistakes makes me feel like it's worth attempting something completely different.
[He hasn't told her what he is. What he's done. But he senses that from the gravity of this, she must know that he's done many things he isn't proud of, and things that would have seen him meet an untimely end by his own will.]
I am... so very sorry I worried you.
no subject
Don't be an idiot. Are you that sorry that I care for you? [ She'll hit you if you say yes to that, Albert, so don't you dare. ] Bury yourself in your troubles all you like, if that's how you really wanna cope with it -- I'm just here to point out that there's no harm in sharing them with others, too. You're only human.
[ She pulls back a little, a hand lingering on his face, brushing stray hair away from his eyes. Handsome even in his distress, yet so much more vibrant than the first time she's ever met him.
Her eyes linger on his for a couple of seconds, before she pulls back completely, leaving only her hand on his, squeezing gently. ]
Come on. Finish the food I made for you at least. [ She teases. ] Then I can let you go, I guess.
no subject
[He knows he's defeated, just a bit, and that he ought to not try to explain. The food is good, made wonderful by the sentiment. He can't say that he's ever in his life had someone care so directly about his idiotic death wish.]
I'd like to stay for a while, if I could.
[Stay. Lay down with his head on her shoulder, or on her lap. Feel connected and valued for who he is and not reviled for the things he's let pass through his mind. Or perhaps he'll just sleep while she goes about her day, a useless husk that needs to recharge and reevaluate.]
You're so good for me. It might help more than you know.
no subject
[ What a silly man, to say words like 'if I could', as if she would've said anything else. ]
For as long as you need to.