#off topic here but i think something could be said about 'hand of god' edmond vs 'hand of justice' villefort and how they reflect each othe

[kashilascorner]

Thank you very much for your very nice reply! I'm still sorry if I came off a tad too strong in the original ask, but yes, I did see that you noted on the orientalism still being there in the film. It's just that for me, the seduction plot is still weird as a writing choice done by the script writers, and an added issue to the orientalism.

Re: Edmond and Haydee, I actually don't have much of an issue with the romance turn at the end, but this is due to several factors. I will however, note that I don't begrudge people for being weirded out by the turn, since the main issue imo is that there's not much of Haydee within the book to begin with, nor is there more on her relationship with Edmond over the years pre-Paris, so it's easy to see why it feels like a weird and sudden decision for the ending of the book.

I think that mainly to me, Edmond and Haydee in the book is still a tad 'better' than in the movie in terms of the revenge plot because yes, in a way she is another part of the revenge, but not one that Edmond needs to push directly onto the Mondegos because he's firstly misusing Albert's trust for that, and then is also the one to make Fernand's crimes of treason public. It's really up to Haydee whether or not she chooses to go and stand as witness in the trial because during that time, Edmond is away with Albert. And while it does again fall back on the issue of Edmond being the 'mastermind' to coordinate all these people at different times, Haydee makes her own decision to enact revenge the way she'd want to. As for the romance aspect, this is purely my own view of it, I don't ask for anyone to agree with me on it, but I guess I always saw it as less than "ew father and daughter" and more as two people with pretty similar pasts deciding to support each other. I don't think it's healthy or any good model of a relationship at all, but I can see why someone like Edmond at the end, while contemplating dying once his revenge plot is over, accepts that Haydee loves him completely and in a way that I think he always wanted Mercedes to love him. Edmond's view of love and devotion is pretty unhealthy like his views of justice is (like you mentioning the 'punishing the children' theme), you can obviously see it in how he hated Mercedes for not "honoring" her vow of dying or being loyal to him even when he 'stayed' loyal to her and thought of her in prison. He can be very loyal and giving himself to the people he loves, even with someone like Maximilien, but I think he also wants that in return (which Haydee gives him). Again, not a model of a healthy relationship in the slightest, but to me it made sense that he and Haydee became codependent with one another at the end because of their similar circumstances. (I would also like to note though that his feelings towards Haydee in the book kind of go back and forth on the daughter thing. In the book prior to his duel with Fernand, he does wonder if he would've been happy with her as his partner, and then after the duel, at least in my copy of the English translation, he says he wonders if there is in fact, 'another Mercedes', and he could once more be happy. Personally, I thought that Edmond doesn't actually have a sense of being a proper parent to her or any of the other younger people he calls his "child", because he was also never a parent unlike his foes (not that they were significantly better or perfect as parents), and a lot of his behavior towards her and Maximilien, or even Albert, is unlike that of a parent, if that makes sense.)

PS. I do agree though that the movie at least was way less harsh towards Mercedes, and for the better. I think one of the parts that should always be absolutely changed is her end and tbh Albert's, too. While I know why the book has him go off into the army and thinking that he can regain some sense of respect in being an honest soldier, I don't think that's necessary in a more modern adaptation. Have him be his mother in a safe place away from high society, living comfortably. And not have Mercedes think that she needs to spend her life weeping for "the men she's lost".

you're good! This is an interesting conversation and I always love discussing different insights :) (linking prev ask here for reference)

The thing with Edmond is that he accepts no love that is not total, complete and unquestionable devotion and kinda blind trust. He will not be questioned, he wants/needs complete surrender. I love that you pointed that out about his codependency with Haydée and comparison to Mercedes. Yes, his view of love is not healthy and I think it again points out to what I refer to as Edmond's God complex. He believes he's the hand of God in his vengeance but in a lot of ways he has simply built himself into a god. Lots of people point it out throughout the book. The narrative that Dumas poses does seem to justify him, does seem to point out to him enacting rightful, God-guided justice so the narrative excuses Edmond again and again. But as readers of course we start questioning. Haydée's total "giving" of herself to the Count is exactly what he wants, maybe even what he needs, as much as being recognized as a romantic partner is also wanted/needed by Haydée. In this aspect, I once again prefer, at least partially, the movie ending over the book. On one hand, in the book, Edmond re-learns love. On the other hand, with his vengeance done, his means virtually unquestioned (the only one left to do so would be Valentine, as Villefort has lost his head, and we barely see her react to her family's fate) except for a moment of doubt on account of Edouard as collateral damage, getting together with Haydée reafirms the way Edmond has loved before. In that way, he has not grown beyond the "Count" (by the Count I mean what he became after choosing to get vengenance). Forgiving Mercedes and still calling her "unfaithful" on to back is also a sign of this.

I understand what you say about Haydée and Edmond getting together in the end. It does make sense to the book and what Dumas seems to have meant to imply. It brings his point to a conclusion although for me, personally as I pointed out in the previous paragraph, it simply falls a bit flat in that it shows Edmond has not "grown" in the sense of questioning his views though he himself speaks on the necessity of God being questioned. He thinks himself "perfect", so to speak, he still believes himself to be God's hand (which is frankly just one way of saying he is a god himself).

On a more personal level, for me Haydée/Edmond does not work not because the romance comes out of nowhere (she clearly pines for him from the very first moment we meet her, Edmond grows slowly into it), but because of a combination of what I stated above, plus what I feel as underutilization of Haydée and a lazy, cliché necessity to have the hero getting the pretty girl by the end. That is the sense in which I prefer the movie ending: Edmond is by himself, but he is not necessarily alone. In a sense, he has grown. In both my Spanish audiobook and the french text in which I took notes he mentions the same about a "second Mercedes" that you pointed out. That is part of my issue. Haydée is a second, more perfect, younger, more faithful Mercedes, but not so much herself. The final, personal point is just how unbalanced their relationship is from a modern perspective. He is very much above her in everything, he is richer, he is significantly older, he is more or less her tutor, etc. Personally I have no issues with the age gap (they are both adults), but the tutor/father figure for me is a bit gross already and the dealbreaker is that all of that comes together with Haydée literally having been bought by him. She is his slave, and even though she is free to do anything, he doesn't treat her as such, he offers her up her liberty and her right to chose again and again, she seems perfectly content with remaining a slave, whether literally or metaphorically, which plays into orientalist tropes as well. For me the circumstances of their relationship cross a very thick line into unhealthiness, though this is my personal view only.

As for Albert, I do like an ending in which he has to "work" to earn a living. He was a spoiled child and it does him well to make a name for himself and see the world from a point of view that is not as privileged. Sadly the army is the most obvious choice within the context of the book for someone who wants to make a name for themselves. I think it also allows him to atone for his father's crimes while wearing the uniform, which of course are not Albert's (or Mercedes') fault but they have indeed helped them live their comfortable lives so in the Christian retribution sense that the book is preoccupied with, it makes perfect sense and I do like that. That being said, I agree with you that Albert and particularly Mercedes deserve a far better, more gentle, ending. The thing I do love about the book is that they both take the reigns of their own lives and live ahead without looking back.

Re: crying over the men she has lost. Another thing that frankly saddened me about Mercedes' ending is that she doesn't seem to actually grieve much for Fernando which, given her character, I don't believe. In my book she says something like she "approves the death [of Fernando], but must pray for the dead" which feels cold to say the least. It leads me to think either she's not disclosing everything honestly to Edmond, or Dumas just did not want to get into that. In the beginning Fernando and Mercedes were absolutely insane about each other, in a loving way (not saying it was healthy at all) but that probably transformed and went on with time. See how Fernando ended. But in general: Mercedes deserves so much better than what she got in the book. At least it makes me happy to know that she is very much loved by readers and also for many characters in the book.

[whimperwoods]

Arms of the Enemy (D&D Whump) - 8

This is Part 8!

Here are part 1, part 2 , part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, and part 7!

Castor is a warlock, in service to the Great Old One and the Dark Emperor, in that order. Ed is a fighter, a knight and battle master in  the service of the True King of Lumenea. They have always been enemies.  In the space between the Old One and the Emperor, they might be able to become something else.

(Also Ed has emotions and Castor has a plan b.)

tw: panic attack (maybe?), tw: aftermath of torture, tw: feelings of shame and self-loathing, tw: brief suicidal ideation, tw: powerful mood swings, tw: Ed’s general bad time coping,

taglist: @redwingedwhump, @fanastywhump, @insanitywishes @bluebadgerwhump,@burtlederp, @newandfiguringitout, @kawhump

Side note: The d&d mechanics stuff is more a fun challenge for me than necessary for world-building, but I DO feel I should mention I only just realized warlocks get their spell slots back on a short rest and not only a long one? On the one hand I now understand why it’s an actually playable class, on the other hand, I have already established that Castor only gets his back on a long rest, so I’m beefing up all his invocations to compensate.

***************

Castor felt deeply, deeply foolish. He was on the ceiling, but now both of them were visible and Amara was shouting “Hey,” and they were in big trouble. He muttered an invocation under his breath and flung a wave of magic behind him, slowing down everyone on the stairs, and kept running. Hopefully, it would take their pursuers longer to look up than it took him to get out of the line of sight of the stairs and up into some kind of dark corner.

<<Do you trust me?>> he asked Ed.

The other man was silent, his presence a mental weight against the edge of Castor’s awareness, but just as Castor was ducking into an embrasure and trying to keep both of them out of the dim light that seeped through the arrow loop inside, he got an answer.

*****

<<Do you trust me?>>

Ed wanted to vomit. Of course he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He couldn’t. But of course he did. He had to. He thought, all of a sudden, of his hand in the mage’s, last night. “Squeeze my hand if it’s ok to move you,” as if he’d had any choice then, as if he had any choice now. But he’d done it. He’d done it. A contract. It was done.

Ed was still trying to breathe when they stopped moving and he realized he hadn’t been focusing his eyes, hadn’t seen a thing as they slipped into a tiny space that, he realized a long moment later, was meant for an archer. Did he trust Castor?

<<Yes>> he answered, his voice a whisper even in their minds. His face flushed with shame. He was a disgrace. He was either lying or telling the truth and he didn’t know which was worse. Why had Castor asked him? Why was he pretending Ed got to decide? Ed had decided one thing, and now they were visible and hiding and he didn’t have any more plan than the warlock did.

He realized he was shaking, so hard he was sure Castor could feel it. They were visible. They were visible, and Castor had no plan because Castor was a planless idiot. But he had no plan, either, so apparently he was, too.

He could feel Castor’s presence in his mind even as the man stayed silent, a gentle pressure he could feel even though he suspected he shouldn’t, and it was almost comforting. His breathing eased slightly.

<<Ok>> Castor said, <<So, technically I can be a little bit invisible any time? Only a little bit invisible. And only in shadows. But the problem is it’s only me. So I’m gonna need to uh - well. This is the best place I could think of to leave you. It’s uh - it’s hidden, mostly, and it’s safer than the ground.>>

Ed instinctively tightened his arms around Castor’s neck and shoulders. <<No!>>

He could feel Castor almost-answer, could hear him almost-speak, and anger washed over him. His words came out hollow, ringing empty between their minds because the flood of emotion running through Ed was too big to fit into them.

<<No,>> he told the mage, <<No, you’re the one who brought me out here. You’re the one who started all this. You brought me out here. I could have been - could - have been - >> He knew what he could have been. He could have been dead, or much farther on his way to it, and he didn’t want to be dead, and he didn’t want to be dead, and he was still rambling in Castor’s mind in spite of himself.

<<It’s your fault I’m alive. It’s your fault I’m alive and not in my cell and they’re going to punish me for it. They’re going to punish me for it.>> His stomach felt cold and solid, and he wasn’t sure if he was afraid of his captors or himself, saying things he meant and didn’t mean and couldn’t mean. He was shaking. Oh gods, he was shaking.

<<They won’t.>> Castor’s voice was soft. Gentle. Ed only half heard it. <<They won’t. I have . . . things. There’s more I can do. I’ll be with you the whole time, if you’ll let me in. And I won’t let them hurt you. I’d been planning to hide you here in the fortress, but the game’s up for both of us so now we’re onto plan B and I’m getting you out of here. I just need you to hold on. I just have some things to steal first, and I’m the only one who can be invisible this way. And then I’ll be back. I promise.>>

Ed felt hot where he was angry and cold where he was afraid, and a great sucking tornadic hole in the middle, tearing him apart. Sir Edmond of Lumenea was not this. He was not so small. So afraid. So dependent. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. And he didn’t want to die. He couldn’t want to die. He wanted to be alive. He wanted to be alive.

Castor stood on the side of the wall and rearranged both of them awkwardly, laying Ed down on the tiny patch of floor and tucking his legs in as tightly as they would go. Ed almost cried out at the pain, but forced himself to hold it in, keeping the noise down to a soft grunt he had to hope no one heard under the chaos of low, slowed-down voices shouting several yards away.

Oh. Sounds. That was right. Sounds. Sounds. He hadn’t been listening to the head-sounds, and he had to not make real sounds. At least, he had to not make them here. <<Help me look out,>> he demanded, off topic and with his head still reeling dizzily, <<Help me see, I need to know where we are.>>

*****

Castor’s spine felt electric, prickling with the sense that something was wrong with Ed. He knelt on the wall, making the most of his spider climb as he adjusted himself within the tiny space to lay a hand on Ed’s cheek and turn the man’s face toward him. He looked deeply into the knight’s eyes, trying to pick apart what was fear and what was something else - whatever it was that wasn’t right.

Instead, he suddenly felt awash in a wave of confused emotions, fear and anger and despair flooding out of Ed and almost overwhelming him.

<<No,>> he said gently, trying to keep his voice even and not let on that he’d felt unasked-for reverberations that strong. <<Just stay. It’ll be ok. I promise.>>

The wave of anger that crashed across Castor’s mind was purer and clearly intentional, a mental shove that drove him backward in surprise, making him let go of Castor’s face and sit back into his heels.

<<So that’s it, then,>> Ed said bitterly, <<All that and in the end you think I’m useless. I can’t help. You don’t want me. You’re just going to leave me here with nothing like I’m useless.>>

This was so not the time for a big argument. Especially not when he remembered all the things that weren’t anger that he’d felt before Ed started lashing out.

Castor breathed deeply, centering himself, and then leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Ed’s, pushing as much calm, care, and intent through their mental link as he could. <<Ed, I’m coming back for you. I swear. I - I swear by my master, I’m coming back for you. I just can’t steal things with you on my back.>>

Ed shuddered underneath him, another reverberation from Ed’s mind washing over Castor’s again, the same confusing blend, but with the anger leaking out, leaving a flash of cold and sorrow before it faded away again.

The knight’s hand wrapped around Castor’s wrist. <<Let me help you. I just need a view of what’s below us. And an idea where you’re going.>> His voice was sad, now, thrumming with something that hurt to listen to.

<<Alright,>> he answered, not sure he had any other real option, against that kind of hurt. <<But we have to be careful.>>

<<Alright,>> Ed agreed.

Getting a good peek outward took some doing, but they managed, and Castor was surprised to hear a loud clattering noise a good distance away from their hiding place. Their pursuers were still slowed, but barely, the spell on the edge of running out. It was a relief to hear the people below shout slowly about following the noise. He pulled Ed back into their arrow loop.

<<There.>> Ed sounded exhausted. <<Done.>>

Castor didn’t know what to make of that. He didn’t know what to make of any of this, really. Any time he tried to think it through, things all got tangled, both because this was complicate and because he never seemed to be able to get a bead on Ed’s mind, or perhaps his feelings. <<Thanks,>> he answered, after a moment’s adjusting to what had happened.

<<I'm, uh. I’m a little bit magic.>> Ed was starting to sound more himself, and Castor wasn’t sure if it was because of or in spite of his clear exhaustion. Either way, it was a relief, if a small one.

<<I noticed.>> Castor wasn’t sure whether he should ask about it or not, but he was sure he needed to get his supplies and get them out of here, so he saved the question for later.

<<Sorry about not mentioning before,>> Ed added.

<<Well, at least I know you have that trick if something happens. And I can keep an eye on this place while I’m gone, if you’ll let me.>>

<<What do you mean?>>

Castor found himself suddenly unable to look the knight in the eyes. <<If you’ll let me, I can see and hear what you see and hear. As long as we keep the link going, I can blink out of my own senses and into yours. It’s uh - I don’t do it a ton. But I can check in every couple of minutes to make sure you’re still alright.>>

A twinge of surprise pulsed through their mental link and Castor wondered, passively, whether their unusually strong link might mean some day Ed could look through his eyes, too. The surprise backed off into silence, but Castor let Ed think through it, just listening to the footsteps below and waiting for an answer.

<<Yeah, alright,>> the knight finally said, <<How do I know when you turn it back off?>>

<<I dunno. But we both have to be willing for it to work. So if you don’t want me to see what you see, you can shut me out. I just won’t be able to reopen from a distance so if you do that before I get back, I won’t be able to get to you unless you’re still here.>>

<<Got it.>>

<<I have to touch you.>>

The knight’s fingers wrapped around Castor’s wrist again. <<Done.>>

Castor twisted his arm until he could hold Ed’s wrist, too. Then he focused on the half-prayer that would open the link, whispering the invocation under his breath as quietly as he could.

*****

Ed had expected to feel it when the connection between the two of them changed, but instead he was alerted to it working by a deep gasp from Castor. The mage let go of Ed’s arm and slapped his hand over his own mouth to keep from crying out, and when his voice started up in Ed’s head, it sounded tense and pained.

<<I’ve got your skin, too. The senses of it, I mean. Touch. I’ve got your sense of touch. Gods.>>

The hand Castor had against the wall, stabilizing his disorienting sideways kneel, was quaking faintly, and when he moved the other hand away from his mouth, it was shaking much harder, shaking visibly, like Ed was sure his own did, these days.

For a moment, he felt pity for the mage, but then a wave of anger came behind it. Why should he feel bad? Why should he pity a man for suddenly sharing in the pain of what his own people had done? Why should he feel bad for his old enemy when he’d never asked him to climb into his mind and body, when he’d never asked for any of this.

Pity and anger warred in his chest as he listened to Castor’s body take deep, gasping breaths, like he was trying to steady himself against the pain.

<<Sorry,>> the mage gasped again, <<Sorry, I didn’t mean to - fuck. I think while I’m in there - we both have to calm down together. I can feel your heart racing in there. That’s. I’m not. It’s just supposed to be sight and sound. It’s. I hate it. I see me but don’t feel me. That’s new. Fuck.>>

Ed timed his breaths to Castor’s body’s breathing, feeling his tangle of emotions start to fade again, unsustainable. He was tired. Gods, he was tired. They’d only just woken up and come here and he was already so tired. Slowing his breaths just made it harder to fight it, harder to focus on anything but the pain and the exhaustion and his presence in his own body.

<<Ok,>> Castor said, <<Ok. Ok. Back in a moment. Gotta make sure it works.>>

He hadn’t felt Castor get closer before, but now he felt him leave, the feeling of surprise he hadn’t realized was coming from Castor easing and the mage’s voice quieting just slightly as he rambled more <<Ok. Alright. Ok>>s.

Castor’s return was announced by another deep, pained gasp of air from the mage’s body, but this time Ed felt Castor’s presence solidifying in his mind.

He felt no particular sensation that told him Castor was on his left side, but sensed it somehow regardless, moving his right hand almost instinctively to clasp his own left shoulder comfortingly.

<<Oh,>> Castor whispered, right there and so, so quiet, <<Oh, Ed. I’m. I knew, but - I didn’t.>>

Something about this, about holding his own shoulder to touch Castor, about the half-daze of knowing things he couldn’t know, sensing things that weren’t there, cut through him to the core. <<I need you to come back soon,>> he answered the mage, <<I need you. I can’t stay here. It’s too small. It hurts. We have to go.>>

Castor moved fast this time, out of Ed’s mind and into his own body again before Ed had finished realizing what he’d said. A moment later, Ed had processed the fact that he’d begged and not begged, said what he shouldn’t and meant it and felt nothing bad in the moment of it, and Castor’s hand came down gently to rest over his own, warm and comforting.

<<I know. I’m sorry. I’ll go. I won’t be long. Just stay quiet, and the moment I sense any trouble, I’ll come to you instead of the mission. I’ll be checking back in. I’ll be - I’ll be checking.>>

Ed couldn’t possibly answer. He couldn’t. Something had broken open again, something real was obvious and aching and right there in the open where Castor couldn’t miss it. He shoved against the other man’s presence in their little arrow loop, but he knew without asking that whatever his mind or heart or soul had managed of a shove hid nothing of the whatever-it-was this extra closeness had cut its way down to.

Castor straightened up, peeked around the edge of the embrasure, and hurried outside and away, into the shadows where he’d be invisible, apparently.

Ed laid where he’d been left, feeling like a crab cracked open, the meat inside exposed to the open air. It ached, but it was a good ache, and he didn’t have the energy to hate it. Tears slipped from his eyes and he didn’t stop them, letting them flow silently down his cheeks and leaving alone the question of where they were coming from. It was dangerous, with him like this. Too dangerous. He breathed, and cried, and wondered when he’d feel Castor’s mind drawing closer again.

*****

Castor’s body ached faintly in all the places Ed hurt, a ghost of the way it felt to look through the man’s eyes. It wouldn’t let Castor go. He moved as fast as he could without alerting anyone, the ache lingering somewhere underneath the skin it didn’t belong to. He moved. Shadow. Shadow. Ache. He planned each move as he made the one before it, hurrying from shadow to shadow, where he’d be invisible, disappearing into the blind spots of the universe. He needed to hurry.

Lost in the shadows, he ached.

[casualcatte]

RP Journal: 08/09/2020

Rae-Hann appeared to visit me today; it’s been a short bit since I’ve seen him, so he was welcome, as always. He has a strangely calming presence, the mystel, and I find I can talk to him about most anything. There was something a little disconcerting about his reason for finding me, though.

[ Courtsey cut for length. Are these ever short?! ]

It was just to give me a book, written mostly in Vrandtic, but with some parts on Astromancy that he thought might interest me. “I don’t want it left unattended,” he’d said, “should I find myself here physically. Or, dead.”  That last worried me. Was he in some manner of trouble?  Trouble always seemed to find Rae, no matter where in the worlds he went. I couldn’t help but ask him. 

A secret, he said. I had to keep it a secret. Especially from Frey and Shieda. I owe more loyalty to Rae than the two of them combined, so being Rae’s secret-keeper was of little concern to me. What followed… I won’t even write here. A secret is a secret, after all. And Frey is a clever catte who would be the type to ferret out my journal just to see if I’d written anything. So, no, Frey, if you’re reading this. You’re not going to get it out of me.  If Rae-Hann wanted you to know, he’d have told you.

He reassured me that I wouldn’t have to hunt him down, so that’s a relief. I have no doubt I could do it easily, but I wouldn’t want to. That’s a position I’d prefer to never have to be in. Still, I plan to keep an eye on Rae as much as I can, which means getting business concluded in Kugane and Ishgard so I can go back to the drama hot-bed that is Ul’dah. Gods, why do you keep dragging me back to that place?

Rae also spoke of helping him on some Vrandtic expedition he’ll be going on soon. I told him that he knows how to call for me if needed, so I suspect I’ll be taking a dream journey soon. I’m curious about this underwater trip that requires no swimming, though. How is that even going to work?

I’d have to figure it out later, because almost as if he has a sixth sense that I’m talking to someone else, Edgard Beaumont puts in an appearance. How is it that he knows just when to interrupt a pleasant conversation with the crushing weight of his ego? He was, of course, uniquely Edgard, making inferences about my relationship to Rae-Hann, who is only mentor and friend.

Though, once he heard mentor he couldn’t help but bring up that gods-awful Hunt and how I’d missed four shots. /Ugh./  Why did he even have to hear about it? I swear, I’m never going to live it down til the day I die.  Or he does.  It makes it very tempting to shoot him. 

Edgard was Edgard, all talk and suave and confident assurance that I was enamored with him. However, the shocking thing wasn’t Edgard. It was Rae-Hann. There was a… concern there that I’d never before seen.  Not like he was jealous, but more like my godfather, questioning if Edgard had untoward motives. Color me doubly gob-smacked when it seemed to… I don’t know, subdue Edgard.  He admitted he liked my company.  Admitted that it was all in good will and that he had no intention of trying to seduce me. I’m almost convinced he meant it.

Once Rae left, Edgard almost seemed uncomfortable that he’d made the admissions, like someone had suddenly pulled the mask off his facade and yelled “Ta-da!”  It was...strange to see him so vulnerable, stripped of the veneer that was his cavalier, womanizing attitude. I only managed to tease him about it briefly before he shifted the topic to Edmond. 

He’d apparently seen his brother somewhere recently and they’d made it a point to make up with one another.  I was genuinely glad to hear it; family is such an important thing. It’s a shame to see people take it for granted, they don’t realize how lucky they are. There are some of us in the world that have no family to speak of. He went on to say that Edmond was in some manner of trouble, though he had no specifics on the why or the how. I offered to help, which, of course, Edgard had to make about him and how much I care about him. I swear, he’s such an idiot sometimes.

It didn’t take long for Edgard to recover from whatever blow Rae-Hann had dealt him. He was soon back to his usual antics. He mentioned somewhere along the line that he’d told me his intent wasn’t serious back in Ul’dah, but it’s hard to take Edgard seriously about anything when he’s talking to me. To listen to him tell someone else that his flirtations were empty and that it was just in goodwill and fun… it brought a strange sense of relief. I hadn’t realized it til then, how I was expecting him to try something or suggest something, prepared to haul off and slap him for it whenever it happened. It was nice to let go of that expectation. I felt more relaxed, less guarded. Like I wasn’t walking across a Garlean mine-field.

I started to feel more at ease, like I didn’t have to question every gesture and every turn of phrase for fear that he’d get the wrong idea. The rest of the night passed easily until the Ishgardian decided to go to bed, virtuously alone, but in those moments he seemed almost happy. Content. More than I’d seen him since the day I met him.

When I got back to the Bokairo, there was a mail moogle waiting with a letter for me from Lorrendor Hauland.  I was sorely, sorely tempted to punt that marshmallow lump back to wherever it came from. I’m not even sure what he expected to accomplish by sending it.  An apology on paper from half a world away? Tch.  If you can’t even muster the guts to face me in person about the harm you’ve done, you don’t deserve to be forgiven.

Tristane was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to face in my life. I /watched/ him die, even as I tried to save him. I can still feel the heat of his blood pumping over my hands in time with his heartbeat as I tried to staunch the most vital of his wounds. I can still feel his bloodied hand on my cheek, wiping away my tears as he gasped out that he was glad I was safe. Gods damn you Tristane Alexander, I never wanted to be safe!  I wanted to live or die at your side, as your partner and your love. I wanted us to fight this battle together.  But you left me behind…

(whatever came next was scribbled out in a large block of ink)

I buried him with my own two hands beneath the caelumtree where we first met. There isn’t a thing about home that doesn’t remind me of him and why going home is always so bittersweet for me. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s also why I left…

These feelings are not weapons to be used against me when someone finds them convenient. When someone wants to manipulate me into permitting behavior I would never allow. I never share Tristane’s death lightly and to have it used as a crutch to try get me to accept being treated as anything other than an equal...as anything other than a /friend/... I can’t just /forgive/ that. I would never use that kind of knowledge like that.

Gods, just look at what I know about Edgard and Rae-Hann, the loves they’ve lost.  I would never use that knowledge to try and manipulate them. The very idea makes me sick to my stomach. Their pain, that agony, is a symbol of trust and vulnerability that should be kept sacred and precious. Used only to make them better men and for their own gain, not as a method and means for mine.

I just can’t understand the thinking. Maybe I just don’t get it.

Mentions @yokasaris for Rae-Hann @sola-ffxiv for side-mention of Frey I don’t think any of the other nerds mentioned have Tumblrs (yet)