A holy experience. [she bites her lip so hard it turns white so she doesn't laugh jfc
it's like instinct to take her drink and sip from it so that she has something to do with herself, and then she makes a face down at it because she was hoping the effect would wear off. a beat, and then:]
[ he's unaware and just nods enthusiastically to the first part. rondo "holy smite" "holy impulse" rondoson
but, ah... the subject change. rondo brightens, for a moment, almost instinctually, but not a second later, his face falls, softening into something a little sadder, that same expression throné had brought up earlier. the ears droop a little, too. ]
... Yes. [ no matter what happened, sazantos is still his mentor. ] He...was the Flameguard before me. [ a beat, and he shakes his head a little. ] He taught me everything that I know, and then some.
[ it's kind of funny - even with the drink's effects still swirling around in his system, for a moment, rondo seems at a loss for words. he looks down at his lap, trying to decide how to word the massive shadow over his life that is sazantos. ]
No, I - I want to tell you. I know you'll understand. [ there's the drink, this time, but he means it, and he gives her a soft, meaningful look before he bites his lip and tries to find a place to start. ]
... Sir Sazantos, he... [ ... ] Yes, you're right. [ it seems like he's not going to continue, but after a moment, the words start, and they don't stop. ] He wants to... Sir Sazantos made some choices that were - I still don't understand them, now, no matter how much I wanted to, but - something went wrong with his Sacred Flame. It was blackened - Accursed, and it used to be - you wouldn't believe how brightly it shone, it was - magnificent, and I wanted...
[ these thoughts are coming out of his mouth disjointed the way they are in his head, a swirling mix of the thousands of questions he had, that he still has for sazantos, who is somewhere in some different version of hell, amassing an army. he trails off, as he comes to the most cognizant point of it all. ]
...I think something hurt him very badly. [ honestly. that's the root of it all. rondo can't reconcile the purity of sazantos's sacred flame from when he was a starry eyed teenager with the man he stood across from just before arriving here. he just can't. he knows he's better than that because sazantos' pure sacred flame is the entire reason he's alive. ]
- And I don't know if there's any way to put the pieces back together again, Throné, but I want to. I wish he'd let me help him, but - I don't think he will, either, and...I think I will end up having to face him down on the battlefield, instead of at his side, when all of this is over. I'll do it, I will, Orsterra is depending on it, but I - I never wanted that.
[ he looks up at throné when he finishes, this time absolutely looking lost, upset, brows knit together and mouth pulled into a frown. it's the worst kind of upset, too - the kind where your heart is broken, but you know that you have to pick up the pieces and do what's right, keep going and doing the impossible thing anyway.
[she's good at listening, at least. she settles in her seat, watching him with a neutral but soft expression.
you'll understand, he says, and she thinks... she thinks she does. it sounds so familiar, in the way that she's seen her friends struggle with their own darkness. it puts her in mind of hikari, who always fought himself as hard as he could. it puts her in mind of the sanctum knights, standing at temenos's shoulder and watching kaldena twist and morph and scream.
there was a way to put the pieces together for hikari, but not for kaldena. she knows that. but throné also knows the difference between the two is that one tried very hard, and one did not, and she wonders how much it is like that for sazantos.
there's a pause, as she takes all that in. and then throné scoots forward, close enough to press her knee to his. she lifts her hands, and rests them delicately on either side of his face.]
It wasn't. [too much, she means.] ... You might have to. You can't force someone to accept your help.
[silence, then:] If you're unable to put the pieces back together, sometimes the greater mercy is to end it. Death isn't always the worst thing you can do to someone.
[ when he looks up at throné, when she takes his face, his eyes are a little wet. it's not on purpose - every time he thinks about the situation, it hurts, like picking at the scabs of an open wound. throné said it earlier, that someone might hurt him, because he was kind, but the truth is there's nothing in this world that could ever hurt him as bad as what happened with sazantos. there is nothing that can compare to watching his mentor, the paragon of everything, his goal, his ideal, the flameguard crumble to darkness. there is nothing that will match the way it felt when hugo first told him what happened, that the queen was summoning him to take sazantos's place among the guardians. like the whole world fell out under his feet. sometimes, he still wishes it was some horrible, awful dream, that he'll wake up and sazantos will meet him in the bitter cold training yard in flamesgrace, and everything will be normal.
he swallows, and nods, slowly, into her hands. ]
...I know. [ he does. he's not unrealistic. he knows that's what he has to do. and he thinks that sazantos, above all, is tired. he thinks he's starting to see the cracks in his armor, now. ]
I was finally strong enough to stand by him, and now I have to be strong enough to... [ a pause. he takes a deep breath. ] ... To end it, when the time comes. I can. I know I can. [ i know he needs it. i know maybe it will help to finally give him some release. ] I just don't want to.
...Thank you. [ rondo leans into her hands, a little, and huffs - lets out a soft, wet laugh, smiling at her a little helplessly, a little sadly. ] ...See? This is what I mean. Of course you're kind, Throné.
[almost instinctively, she strokes her thumb along his cheek. she doesn't like seeing him upset, she really doesn't. and like, throné is not a very protective person, she doesn't rush to the aid of people in pain like castti does, she doesn't hold out a helping hand like partitio, but. she's softer than she likes to admit.
heartbreak is something she's intimately familiar with, at least. she thinks she can relate there, to how she felt before she slipped a knife between father's ribs. you have to, you have to, you have to.]
I believe in you. [she says, without thinking. it's the drink, mostly, but that doesn't mean it isn't true.] You'll do what is right even if it hurts. It's admirable.
[it's something a little out of her reach - she's not sure what she'd do if say, temenos stood in front of her and asked her to end the world. (she'd bring the dawn, however she had to.)
a pause, and then:]
It isn't kind to do the bare minimum, Rondo. [this is almost a little disapproving, like - she's just listening!! that's basic human decency!! even if there are a lot of people who wouldn't. never mind them.]
[ "i believe in you". those are powerful words - the kind that make his heart flutter. in the end, rondo is still just trying to understand the right thing to do, just a man who had his world upended and found it had to be his job to turn it right side up, no matter how painful the cost was. he's the flameguard, now. sazantos's former mentor told him similar, that he believed he would do well. the sacred flame said similar, when it chose him, where it lay warm in his breast, even if he can't feel it so well here.
his expression is a little complicated. soft, maybe a little beseeching. thankful shines through more than anything. even if throné says it's the bare minimum, it means a lot to him. a lot. the disapproving tone gets a quiet huff, and he argues back, though with no heat: ] To say the reality of the situation is a kindness that not everyone would give, either.
[ a platitude, a simple word. i'm sure you'll fix it. really, he doesn't think he will, either. rondo is far more realistic than he seems, and that tiny bit of optimism is a lost cause, so the pragmatism delivered with a kind hand is exactly what he needs to hear.
plus, she's like, holding his face and just rubbed under his eyes like if he might cry? how is this not kindness. the drink takes its effect here, and he adds, quietly but no less sincere: ] I'm really glad I've met you.
[the faintest, faintest bit of pink settles at the tops of her cheeks at that.]
I don't hear that often. [she says, honest, and it's a little bit the drink but it's also something that she doesn't really mind telling him. it's true. people don't like to meet her, because meeting her usually means they're about to die.]
... I'm glad to know you. [a beat.] You've been a comforting presence.
[and she thinks she isn't the only one who thinks that - there's something about his earnest desire to help, the way he carries himself... he's a good man, and the world has so few of those.]
[ oh... genuine warmth lights up his face immediately at the compliment - the smile that spreads across his face is as warm as the sun. as the flameguard, that's what he should always be, isn't it? comforting. warm, as sacred and warm as the hearth he carries in his heart, as the flames he can summon to his fingertips to light the way. it makes him happy, to hear it, and his dumb little ears perk up a little with it, too.
he reaches out - after a moment, and puts his hand on hers to give it a little squeeze. ]
If there's ever anything I can do to help you at all, you need only ask. [ for comfort, or for anything at all. ] And I'd be happy to say it more, too.
[ ah! this is nice, actually. rondo's got fairly big hands - he's not a small guy, and he's wearing his gloves like always. for a moment, he admires the contrast between their hands, turning his a little to line them up. throné's are so nice? her trade requires her to use her hands, so of course they are, but it's a nice visual of them, the knight and the thief.
the comment gets a huff. ]
Stolen! You've stolen nothing from me, Throné. [ again he'd have a wagging tail if he had one. ] And I won't. I've got a lot of stamina, you know!
[that last bit makes her laugh because he's so sincere about accidental innuendo, help her.
her eyes trail to their hands, palm to palm, fingertip to fingertip. she's a pretty slender person in general - her hands are much smaller than his. her pointer finger bends, scrunches a little to drag down his finger, and then settles back in place.
she doesn't answer that part - she doesn't think it's possible for her company to not be considered as some sort of theft, really, but she won't argue.]
You have gotten better at drinking. [she says, teasing.]
[ help. his ears droop a little bit, but it's not Really sad, it's more like he's just being bullied and he's pouting a little. because the first week here... ]
...I only got that drunk one time...
[ ... was very rough....
but despite that he's happy to keep his hand on throné's, and the ears perk right back up a second later at the contact. clearly, he enjoys this: he gives a little pressure back, idly pushing back against her fingertips as you'd do. ]
[she agrees, smiling. she's a little distracted by the pressure of his hand, actually, because it's just such... idle touch. there's no purpose to it other than to be connected, and she's finding she likes that. mostly when it comes to him. softer:]
I like it when you touch me. I don't usually like it when men do.
[the drink is a nightmare and she's being betrayed by it]
[ poor throné, kneecapped by the drink. he looks a little surprised by the comment, at first, eyebrows raising, and then... touched? he looks very touched, a smile spreading on his face, enough to show one single dimple.]
I'm glad that you told me. [ with that, he tilts his head a little bit so he might be able to catch her eye, a smile on his face, and asks: ] ...Then...could I hold your hand?
[she looks SO disgruntled. she's a little humiliated by admitting this sort of thing out loud and it comes out as pouting and looking away so she doesn't have to confront the fact that his big dumb cute face probably gets all :D about it. ugh.
but he tries to catch her gaze, and she gives him eye contact, just briefly, even though her face is turned away. a beat.]
[ his big dumb face does go all :D about it. he looks so happy. his ears? perky. his smile? radiant.
with the permission, he turns his hand just so to the side, and laces their fingers together. they are holding hands!!!! he immediately beams at her and probably makes it ten times worse. ]
[ cute. he seems very happy about this, and throné's reaction is... good? he thinks it's good. he gives their hands a little squeeze and smiles at her, pleased.... ] I hope I can continue to make things comfortable for you, Throné.
[ and then, conversationally, he blurts out: ] You know, I've never held a girl's hand before. [ a beat. he winces. that was the drink. ] - Besides - besides, my sister. That's different though!
[i had this in a tab and forgot to post it because i got distracted by charts
okay, that breaks her embarrassment, and she huffs out a little laugh at his super smooth save. she doesn't let go! she just sets their clasped hands down on the table or the seat, whatever is closer, and gives him an amused look.]
I see. Comparing me to your sister... [stop don't tease him]
anyway predictably he gets a little embarrassed by this!! he sputters a little, at first, but does not pull their hands apart at all, just waving his other one. ]
I - no! Not like that! [ BULLIED ] This is much different!
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it's like instinct to take her drink and sip from it so that she has something to do with herself, and then she makes a face down at it because she was hoping the effect would wear off. a beat, and then:]
... Sazantos is your mentor, isn't he?
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but, ah... the subject change. rondo brightens, for a moment, almost instinctually, but not a second later, his face falls, softening into something a little sadder, that same expression throné had brought up earlier. the ears droop a little, too. ]
... Yes. [ no matter what happened, sazantos is still his mentor. ] He...was the Flameguard before me. [ a beat, and he shakes his head a little. ] He taught me everything that I know, and then some.
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Something happened to him. [she says, gentler than she is usually. and then:] You don't need to tell me unless you'd like to.
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No, I - I want to tell you. I know you'll understand. [ there's the drink, this time, but he means it, and he gives her a soft, meaningful look before he bites his lip and tries to find a place to start. ]
... Sir Sazantos, he... [ ... ] Yes, you're right. [ it seems like he's not going to continue, but after a moment, the words start, and they don't stop. ] He wants to... Sir Sazantos made some choices that were - I still don't understand them, now, no matter how much I wanted to, but - something went wrong with his Sacred Flame. It was blackened - Accursed, and it used to be - you wouldn't believe how brightly it shone, it was - magnificent, and I wanted...
[ these thoughts are coming out of his mouth disjointed the way they are in his head, a swirling mix of the thousands of questions he had, that he still has for sazantos, who is somewhere in some different version of hell, amassing an army. he trails off, as he comes to the most cognizant point of it all. ]
...I think something hurt him very badly. [ honestly. that's the root of it all. rondo can't reconcile the purity of sazantos's sacred flame from when he was a starry eyed teenager with the man he stood across from just before arriving here. he just can't. he knows he's better than that because sazantos' pure sacred flame is the entire reason he's alive. ]
- And I don't know if there's any way to put the pieces back together again, Throné, but I want to. I wish he'd let me help him, but - I don't think he will, either, and...I think I will end up having to face him down on the battlefield, instead of at his side, when all of this is over. I'll do it, I will, Orsterra is depending on it, but I - I never wanted that.
[ he looks up at throné when he finishes, this time absolutely looking lost, upset, brows knit together and mouth pulled into a frown. it's the worst kind of upset, too - the kind where your heart is broken, but you know that you have to pick up the pieces and do what's right, keep going and doing the impossible thing anyway.
ah. ] ...Sorry. Maybe that was a bit too much.
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you'll understand, he says, and she thinks... she thinks she does. it sounds so familiar, in the way that she's seen her friends struggle with their own darkness. it puts her in mind of hikari, who always fought himself as hard as he could. it puts her in mind of the sanctum knights, standing at temenos's shoulder and watching kaldena twist and morph and scream.
there was a way to put the pieces together for hikari, but not for kaldena. she knows that. but throné also knows the difference between the two is that one tried very hard, and one did not, and she wonders how much it is like that for sazantos.
there's a pause, as she takes all that in. and then throné scoots forward, close enough to press her knee to his. she lifts her hands, and rests them delicately on either side of his face.]
It wasn't. [too much, she means.] ... You might have to. You can't force someone to accept your help.
[silence, then:] If you're unable to put the pieces back together, sometimes the greater mercy is to end it. Death isn't always the worst thing you can do to someone.
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he swallows, and nods, slowly, into her hands. ]
...I know. [ he does. he's not unrealistic. he knows that's what he has to do. and he thinks that sazantos, above all, is tired. he thinks he's starting to see the cracks in his armor, now. ]
I was finally strong enough to stand by him, and now I have to be strong enough to... [ a pause. he takes a deep breath. ] ... To end it, when the time comes. I can. I know I can. [ i know he needs it. i know maybe it will help to finally give him some release. ] I just don't want to.
...Thank you. [ rondo leans into her hands, a little, and huffs - lets out a soft, wet laugh, smiling at her a little helplessly, a little sadly. ] ...See? This is what I mean. Of course you're kind, Throné.
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heartbreak is something she's intimately familiar with, at least. she thinks she can relate there, to how she felt before she slipped a knife between father's ribs. you have to, you have to, you have to.]
I believe in you. [she says, without thinking. it's the drink, mostly, but that doesn't mean it isn't true.] You'll do what is right even if it hurts. It's admirable.
[it's something a little out of her reach - she's not sure what she'd do if say, temenos stood in front of her and asked her to end the world. (she'd bring the dawn, however she had to.)
a pause, and then:]
It isn't kind to do the bare minimum, Rondo. [this is almost a little disapproving, like - she's just listening!! that's basic human decency!! even if there are a lot of people who wouldn't. never mind them.]
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his expression is a little complicated. soft, maybe a little beseeching. thankful shines through more than anything. even if throné says it's the bare minimum, it means a lot to him. a lot. the disapproving tone gets a quiet huff, and he argues back, though with no heat: ] To say the reality of the situation is a kindness that not everyone would give, either.
[ a platitude, a simple word. i'm sure you'll fix it. really, he doesn't think he will, either. rondo is far more realistic than he seems, and that tiny bit of optimism is a lost cause, so the pragmatism delivered with a kind hand is exactly what he needs to hear.
plus, she's like, holding his face and just rubbed under his eyes like if he might cry? how is this not kindness. the drink takes its effect here, and he adds, quietly but no less sincere: ] I'm really glad I've met you.
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I don't hear that often. [she says, honest, and it's a little bit the drink but it's also something that she doesn't really mind telling him. it's true. people don't like to meet her, because meeting her usually means they're about to die.]
... I'm glad to know you. [a beat.] You've been a comforting presence.
[and she thinks she isn't the only one who thinks that - there's something about his earnest desire to help, the way he carries himself... he's a good man, and the world has so few of those.]
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he reaches out - after a moment, and puts his hand on hers to give it a little squeeze. ]
If there's ever anything I can do to help you at all, you need only ask. [ for comfort, or for anything at all. ] And I'd be happy to say it more, too.
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she doesn't remove his hand. instead, she turns it, palm to palm with his, almost idly.]
And I'm alright. I've stolen so much of your time already. [...] Make sure that you don't overextend.
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the comment gets a huff. ]
Stolen! You've stolen nothing from me, Throné. [ again he'd have a wagging tail if he had one. ] And I won't. I've got a lot of stamina, you know!
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her eyes trail to their hands, palm to palm, fingertip to fingertip. she's a pretty slender person in general - her hands are much smaller than his. her pointer finger bends, scrunches a little to drag down his finger, and then settles back in place.
she doesn't answer that part - she doesn't think it's possible for her company to not be considered as some sort of theft, really, but she won't argue.]
You have gotten better at drinking. [she says, teasing.]
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...I only got that drunk one time...
[ ... was very rough....
but despite that he's happy to keep his hand on throné's, and the ears perk right back up a second later at the contact. clearly, he enjoys this: he gives a little pressure back, idly pushing back against her fingertips as you'd do. ]
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[she agrees, smiling. she's a little distracted by the pressure of his hand, actually, because it's just such... idle touch. there's no purpose to it other than to be connected, and she's finding she likes that. mostly when it comes to him. softer:]
I like it when you touch me. I don't usually like it when men do.
[the drink is a nightmare and she's being betrayed by it]
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I'm glad that you told me. [ with that, he tilts his head a little bit so he might be able to catch her eye, a smile on his face, and asks: ] ...Then...could I hold your hand?
[ c: ? ] If you want!
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but he tries to catch her gaze, and she gives him eye contact, just briefly, even though her face is turned away. a beat.]
... Yes. That'd be fine. [HUFF!!!!]
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with the permission, he turns his hand just so to the side, and laces their fingers together. they are holding hands!!!! he immediately beams at her and probably makes it ten times worse. ]
There. It's a good fit.
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I... [she starts, and then trails off, looking at their clasped hands. that's all she's got, she's just going to explode
... she holds his hand very tightly. don't let go, though.]
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[ and then, conversationally, he blurts out: ] You know, I've never held a girl's hand before. [ a beat. he winces. that was the drink. ] - Besides - besides, my sister. That's different though!
[ nice save?? ]
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okay, that breaks her embarrassment, and she huffs out a little laugh at his super smooth save. she doesn't let go! she just sets their clasped hands down on the table or the seat, whatever is closer, and gives him an amused look.]
I see. Comparing me to your sister... [stop don't tease him]
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anyway predictably he gets a little embarrassed by this!! he sputters a little, at first, but does not pull their hands apart at all, just waving his other one. ]
I - no! Not like that! [ BULLIED ] This is much different!
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Oh, it is, is it? [:3] How is it different?
[you are setting yourself up for failure, throné]
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Because I enjoy your company in the romantic manner that one would not ever experience with their sibling!
/2
-- Oh no.
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