If I were out to hurt myself out of guilt, I wouldn't be doing it like this. For what it's worth.
[He turns to look at her a little more steadily, the way she wrinkles her nose, and then the irrepressible compulsion to hug her takes over and he just goes for it, catching her around the torso and pulling her against him.]
If you gave me something, I'd wear it, too. You know that, don't you?
[that first part is far, far more reliving than it should be.
she's startled, a bit, by the hug, but only in the way that she always is, jumpscared by nice physical contact. the good thing is that here, she has learned to relax into it much faster, and after a second she curls in and hugs him back.]
... I do now. [she says, hiding her face a bit.] Guess that means I've got to find you an embarrassing piece of jewelry too.
[He smiles softly, letting her cling. Tries not to think about how many fingers there are, to twist into his coat. How it's fewer than it should be. Where the others are now, and who took them.]
I've a dear friend with strong opinions about gifts and possessions. She insists on them from all of her comrades, everyone she cares for. And she gives them out just as deliberately, as meaningfully.
A gift, in her view, is a tangible expression of care. Irrefutable proof against her own doubts, a surety that someone once cared for her. A memory she can hold onto and touch and keep as her own, that someone loves her.
I've seen her keep a spent arrowhead with fiercer devotion than some kingdoms expend on their crown jewels. Pebbles, bones, bits and bobs of things — the form doesn't matter. What matters is someone wanted her to have it. A piece of them to carry with her always.
I think that's what you want too, isn't it. Deep down. Whether you quite know it or not.
in a way, that's what she was doing with harrow. giving her a piece to keep, forever. and she spent too long thinking harrow didn't want it, but she did. maybe she should have a little faith in other areas, too. maybe she can give parts of her away without having to shatter herself in the process. that'd be nice.]
Again. Annoying. [she grouches, but there's no heat to it. because that's a yes.] Trade me something, then. Something for you and something for me.
[He rests his head against hers, just sort of holding her for a moment. His thoughts drift to how she's taller than him when they're both standing like this, but she wasn't when she was bleeding and teetering on a thread after throwing herself on her sword, when he'd leaned over and kissed her head and wondered if anyone had ever bothered to give her that sort of affection before.]
A gift for winning your Archon marks, mayhap. You've earned those, too.
[the longer that he holds her the more she relaxes. it's maybe the first time she's actually relaxed her shoulders since... thursday, and it makes her realize how sore she feels. she breathes in. breathes out. and something a little fragile in her chest starts to mend itself.]
I was going to ask you about that. [she says, with a little laugh.] I was going to throw the most unholy fit if I'd done all that and just missed the mark.
You are, as far as we're aware, one of only two known practitioners of...whatever form of "witchcraft" was imbued upon us, during that little misadventure. That should be more than enough to satisfy Sharlayan, not that I particularly care about their opinion on the matter to begin with.
[He runs a hand down her back, pressing in so that she can feel it even through the thick bulk of her coat.]
But that's not what you earned them for. Just what I'll put on the paperwork.
...I don't think I've ever told you the name of the man who took me off the waterlogged dock planks of Limsa Lominsa and made something of me.
[He gives her a little squeeze.]
His name was Louisoix Leveilleur — an Archon himself, but more importantly, a man who believed that the accumulation of knowledge is meaningless in and of itself; its value comes only from using it to better the world. "To ignore the plight of those one might conceivably save," he would say often, "is not wisdom; it is indolence."
Louisoix believed that we must all protect that which we hold most dear in the manner of our own choosing. Regardless of what our affiliations believe. Regardless of what our loved ones think. Regardless, even, of the opinions of a grizzled old bard who's been taught his own hard lessons about seeking to dictate the choices of others, but has yet to even come close to retaining them. That's my justification for your mark. Mastery of the teachings of Archon Louisoix Leveilleur, despite never having been taught them to begin with.
[And he pulls back just enough to smile at her, softly.]
[thancred waters is very good at making gideon nav feel every emotion all at once, it seems, because there's a lot to unpack in this speech and she's not very good at doing it.
but - what she takes from it is that maybe, just a little, he thinks that she could be some sort of hero if she wanted, and maybe he's proud of her in some fashion, and that's... that's more than anything she's ever gotten. from anybody. she hopes that she isn't wrong. she hopes so bad that this isn't going to be taken from her. it's been a long few weeks, getting her to think it was even a possibility that she could believe this sort of thing is true.
so when he pulls back to look at her, she stares at him like she's not sure what to do, overwhelmed. it takes her a second to figure out what she wants to say to it.]
He doesn't sound so bad. [she says, lamely.] That's... it's a good enough reason.
[she's holding onto his arms tightly as she says it. not enough to hurt, but enough so that he knows she's having a moment.]
[Someday he'll tell her about the Warrior of Light, and about the meaning of Sundering, and how he doesn't know which star or shard or universe or whatnot she comes from, but that if somehow the Ninth just so happened to be a part of one of the shards somewhere out there across the rift, minding its own business, an unsuspecting part of a greater whole — that if he were taking bets on what color soul a visiting Ascian with the right sort of eyes might perceive in Gideon Nav, he'd be laying his wagers on Azem orange.]
I'll get you something to commemorate the occasion. I promise.
[that's how you kill gideon, right there. with that amount of kindness.
she sniffs a little, and then finally lets go of him. mostly. touch week means she keeps a hand vaguely on his arm. the hand with all five fingers. she's still keeping the other one mostly out of his sight.]
I've got something in mind for what I want you to have from me. [she says after a moment, trying to regain her composure.] ... Maybe we ought to not stand out here in the cold doing fuck-all.
[she'd planned on trying to go up the trail but really, she'd be fine with just going back to the resort. it's so much warmer, and her hands hurt from the cold.]
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no subject
[He turns to look at her a little more steadily, the way she wrinkles her nose, and then the irrepressible compulsion to hug her takes over and he just goes for it, catching her around the torso and pulling her against him.]
If you gave me something, I'd wear it, too. You know that, don't you?
no subject
she's startled, a bit, by the hug, but only in the way that she always is, jumpscared by nice physical contact. the good thing is that here, she has learned to relax into it much faster, and after a second she curls in and hugs him back.]
... I do now. [she says, hiding her face a bit.] Guess that means I've got to find you an embarrassing piece of jewelry too.
no subject
[And it's not like he didn't put stipulations on this one, too; it just happened that the proposal met with his approval, so.]
...Would it make you feel better, having that sort of claim on me?
no subject
Don't make it sound weird. [she mutters. and then she sighs.] I don't know. Yeah. Maybe.
[her fingers curl into his coat a little.]
no subject
I've a dear friend with strong opinions about gifts and possessions. She insists on them from all of her comrades, everyone she cares for. And she gives them out just as deliberately, as meaningfully.
A gift, in her view, is a tangible expression of care. Irrefutable proof against her own doubts, a surety that someone once cared for her. A memory she can hold onto and touch and keep as her own, that someone loves her.
I've seen her keep a spent arrowhead with fiercer devotion than some kingdoms expend on their crown jewels. Pebbles, bones, bits and bobs of things — the form doesn't matter. What matters is someone wanted her to have it. A piece of them to carry with her always.
I think that's what you want too, isn't it. Deep down. Whether you quite know it or not.
no subject
in a way, that's what she was doing with harrow. giving her a piece to keep, forever. and she spent too long thinking harrow didn't want it, but she did. maybe she should have a little faith in other areas, too. maybe she can give parts of her away without having to shatter herself in the process. that'd be nice.]
Again. Annoying. [she grouches, but there's no heat to it. because that's a yes.] Trade me something, then. Something for you and something for me.
no subject
[He rests his head against hers, just sort of holding her for a moment. His thoughts drift to how she's taller than him when they're both standing like this, but she wasn't when she was bleeding and teetering on a thread after throwing herself on her sword, when he'd leaned over and kissed her head and wondered if anyone had ever bothered to give her that sort of affection before.]
A gift for winning your Archon marks, mayhap. You've earned those, too.
no subject
I was going to ask you about that. [she says, with a little laugh.] I was going to throw the most unholy fit if I'd done all that and just missed the mark.
[she feels a little less dire. that's nice.]
... Thanks.
no subject
[He runs a hand down her back, pressing in so that she can feel it even through the thick bulk of her coat.]
But that's not what you earned them for. Just what I'll put on the paperwork.
no subject
And what's the actual reason? Having the fortitude to resist losing my lunch during the Ashley Incident?
[she will never let this die]
no subject
[He gives her a little squeeze.]
His name was Louisoix Leveilleur — an Archon himself, but more importantly, a man who believed that the accumulation of knowledge is meaningless in and of itself; its value comes only from using it to better the world. "To ignore the plight of those one might conceivably save," he would say often, "is not wisdom; it is indolence."
Louisoix believed that we must all protect that which we hold most dear in the manner of our own choosing. Regardless of what our affiliations believe. Regardless of what our loved ones think. Regardless, even, of the opinions of a grizzled old bard who's been taught his own hard lessons about seeking to dictate the choices of others, but has yet to even come close to retaining them. That's my justification for your mark. Mastery of the teachings of Archon Louisoix Leveilleur, despite never having been taught them to begin with.
[And he pulls back just enough to smile at her, softly.]
He would have liked you.
no subject
but - what she takes from it is that maybe, just a little, he thinks that she could be some sort of hero if she wanted, and maybe he's proud of her in some fashion, and that's... that's more than anything she's ever gotten. from anybody. she hopes that she isn't wrong. she hopes so bad that this isn't going to be taken from her. it's been a long few weeks, getting her to think it was even a possibility that she could believe this sort of thing is true.
so when he pulls back to look at her, she stares at him like she's not sure what to do, overwhelmed. it takes her a second to figure out what she wants to say to it.]
He doesn't sound so bad. [she says, lamely.] That's... it's a good enough reason.
[she's holding onto his arms tightly as she says it. not enough to hurt, but enough so that he knows she's having a moment.]
no subject
I'll get you something to commemorate the occasion. I promise.
no subject
she sniffs a little, and then finally lets go of him. mostly. touch week means she keeps a hand vaguely on his arm. the hand with all five fingers. she's still keeping the other one mostly out of his sight.]
I've got something in mind for what I want you to have from me. [she says after a moment, trying to regain her composure.] ... Maybe we ought to not stand out here in the cold doing fuck-all.
[she'd planned on trying to go up the trail but really, she'd be fine with just going back to the resort. it's so much warmer, and her hands hurt from the cold.]