Always get sad on my birthday

Maea

Oh, when the world is burning

Fighting down an urge to flare up like a bonfire doused in oil, it didn't help that she felt bad for getting so emotional. Accepting truths she didn't like had never been easy for her and it stung to realize that the one ally she'd thought she had was made of paper and wishful thinking.

"It's not like I had any expectations," she replied quietly, voice muffled behind the hand she leaned her chin into. "I just couldn't let her waltz in there uncontested, like she owned the place. I would have done the same for anyone." Drawing a breath, she sighed and slumped down in the seat. Rubbing fingertips against her eyelids until bright spots danced in her vision, Maea shrugged her shoulders and finally returned Hadama's look with naked honesty, more earnest than wise. "I probably expected everyone else to react in a similar way. If a dragon had interrupted us you know they would have been up in arms in a heartbeat. It's the reaction I have come to expect from leaders, and from people with the power to make a difference. Ever since outlanders poured into the Grounds, that's the way it has been. When a threat appears people rally together, face it, and fight to take it down. I didn't realize that the rules were different this time around - it seems I didn't get that note."

Don't walk away

He accepted her explanation without argument as he inhaled the soothing scent of mint from his drink. Though his hand was steady there was a soft clink of ice in the glass as it melted and shifted in the alcohol. Had her actions been foolish? In hindsight, yes. But they had also been brave.

And impulsive.

She had the right to be mad at him for not trusting her control of her temper, but the stubborn pride that she displayed did nothing to dissuade him that his own actions had been wrong, either. It did not make for a comfortable conversation, but that was always a risk with honesty.

He took another sip of his mojito as she spoke, meeting her earnestness with his full attention as he heard her out. When she finished he inclined his head in acknowledgment of her views but when he met her gaze again it was with a questioning tilt of his chin. ”This time…” He tested the phrase, a small wrinkle appearing between his brows. ”Mmh. But not everyone at the meeting was prepared to face the threat. Yes, we rally. But no one who is not willing is forced to risk themselves.” He gave a single slow shake of his head. ”Our actions almost took that choice from them.” Not only from Evie and her son, but from Flora and Danta as well, who in his experience had never claimed to be warriors or knights. And Deimos and Sunjata had people they wished to protect in that room; the cost of a battle would almost certainly have been too high, given Dahlia’s reported strength and abilities. ”We cannot change what we did. But we can learn from it.”

Maea

Oh, when the world is burning

Maea frowned too. "Of course not. When is anyone ever ready to face something like that? I'm not blaming anyone for the way they chose to act. I'm disappointed, sure, but what bugs me at all is that I'm being told that I should be sorry for the choices I made. But I'm not. That the child ended up in a dangerous situation, yes. For leaving others to continue a fight I started, yes. But I really don't believe that cowering and bending before that woman would have made the situation any less dangerous. And even if it had..." she chewed on it, turning scenarios over in her mind, before ultimately shaking her head, "I would end up loathing myself for simply giving in without even trying to resist."

Clinging to life by any means like that was not worth it, and nothing anyone said could make her believe otherwise. If that made her selfish and dangerous... then Maea supposed that's what she would have to be to live with herself. As for learning from the experience, she raised a brow at Hadama. "And? What's your takeaway from it?"

Don't walk away

She laid out her position like a general marshaling her troops and Hadama held his drink as he listened not only to her tone but to the words that she chose. The frown smoothed out, but only to return to his usual solemnity without any humor to make his eyes shine. He inclined his head in acknowledgment of her choice and her reasoning when she was done, but he did not speak immediately; neither to refute her nor to agree.

Instead he sipped his drink again, letting the cold, refreshing burn slide down his throat before he addressed her question, and at least some of what had come before.

"I have learned that the Family is not ready for war yet," he said bluntly. "If they had been, she would not have begun with words. She would have teleported in and attacked while we were seated." The first lesson. "She came to create fear. And she succeeded. More, our actions allowed her to sow distrust and instability. An outcome that has only helped the Family." He stated it as a fact, though one he regretted as he allowed himself the release of another sigh. "I do not blame you. My actions were my own choice. But I do believe that we made a dangerous situation worse." He paused then, his eyes thoughtful as he turned his gaze once more to the picture above her head. "It would not be easy to swallow my pride and bend before her, as you say. But it would be worth it, if while I am bending I am planting a seed of the Family's demise."

He brought his eyes down to meet hers squarely once more and considered her for a long moment before he tilted his head. "We are learning about the Family's weaknesses. What magic will work against them. And what is wasted. We are building our defenses, and strengthening our regions." He set his glass on the table gently and the ice clinked again as he sat back. "My takeaway is that, right now, live hands to help these undertakings are worth far more than dead martyrs. And that each project we complete makes us more ready to take the battle to them. And more likely to survive it."

Maea

Oh, when the world is burning

It was her turn to listen, and she did so without turning away. Thus her flinch when he stated his opinion that their actions had sowed discord was unmistakeable, as did the near panicked vehemence against the idea of bending instead of fighting read like an open wound on a face that had never been able to conceal emotions. They were raging like the storm outside, on the cusp of overflowing into rage or hurt or petulant defensiveness - but to her credit, Maea restrained herself. Slowly, with great difficulty - but she did it.

"That makes you the fourth person to bring up the word 'martyr'," she grated out. Muscles worked in her jaw, chewing on the conclusions her mind drew form the evidence, for all that she didn't want to acknowledge it. "It appears that my beliefs is in vast minority after all. That's is... unfortunate." Slowly unfurling her fists, Maea reachedd for the glass. Wiping condensation from the outside, she stared into the liquid as if she might scry some path out of this conversation that didn't end up in parted ways and misery.

"How everyone chooses to react to what happened is beyond my control," she reflected. "I can only apologize for the things I regret; anything else would just be lipservice and I clearly don't do that." If she was capable of it, they would not be here now. "But when it comes to this concept of living to fight some other time – " she heaved a sigh, harsh with the bone deep discomfort it brought her just to think about it, " – it's not like I don't understand the logic, you know? I'm not stupid, even I would play along if looking meek and biddable served as a means to an end. But we don't have a plan. And until we do, bending is just bending. And I can't. If that is what will get me killed, I guess I'll just have to die. At least I'll go to Mort without regrets." It would only make her a martyr if others were inspired into action and thought by her deeds. Despite the contempt with which the term had been thrown around, martyrs were remembered for a reason. Because their lives and deaths resonated with others and offered meaning beyond the fact that they died.

"I don't want to die, mind you. There's just a lot of things that's worse than death. Living without freedom is such a thing for me."

Don't walk away

He did not speak with the intention to wound, but he did not coddle her with his words, either. She had given him honesty and the truth in her heart and he gave the same, even knowing that hearing it would give her no solace.

She rewarded his trust in her by holding her temper, though he could see the cost of it in her thunderous expression. There was no surprise in his eyes to hear that others had called her 'martyr' - if not for her actions at the meeting, then for other reasons - but he held his peace as she made her displeasure clear and then took some time and space to think.

When she spoke again he listened and inclined his head in respectful acknowledgment of her statement. Emerald eyes considered her stance and he sighed softly but nodded in acceptance. "I understand," he rumbled quietly. "And I will respect your choice." Even if he did not agree with it. Though he was quietly glad that she was not trying to die. He raised his glass again, contemplated it for a long moment, and then tilted his head back, taking a long swallow of the minty alcoholic beverage. When he lowered it there was only a finger's width of liquid still in it alongside the ice. He continued to hold it up, elbow propped on the table as he contemplated the proud, headstrong, fierce and enigmatic woman across from him.

"What do you intend to do now?"

Maea

Oh, when the world is burning

Letting out a long breath of air, Maea searched Hadama's expression. But quiet though he was, the respect seemed genuine enough - reluctant but not placating - and finally she nodded, slumping back into her seat. "That's all I'll ever ask for from anyone." Being free to make her own decisions. To have her own opinions and choose her own course of action.

To do what she wanted, and if by chance it wasn't what she wanted, at least something she chose for herself. 

Pushing the glass back and forth between her fingers, Maea's delicate seeming shoulders rose and fell in a light shrug. "The same as before. Search for weaknesses, assist my region, look for ways to help anyone who needs it. Improve myself, so I won't be so useless next time something happens." Thinking of the fiasco in the Feverlands, and the deep awareness in her gut when stood before Dahlia of just how outmatched she was, she shook her head with a grimace of actual disgust in herself. "If it will ease your worries about discord amongst the regions, I've been removed from my post as ambassador. Danta and I agree it's not the best role for me."
She didn't mention the argument or the anguish it had caused her; that was between her and the Maverick, a matter that had already been resolved.

Don't walk away

Some of the taut spikiness seemed to go out of his friend and Hadama felt a little tension ease from his own shoulders in turn as Maea sat back. The worst of the storm was, hopefully past; not without damage, but it was nothing they could not rebuild in time. He inclined his head in acknowledgment of her words, a truth that struck particularly deep, before turning from the recent past to the future.

While the Ancient fidgeted the former-Mer remained still, only the occasional blink and the slight rise and fall of his chest revealing him to be something other than a statue. Her list was familiar, not only for herself but for so many that he knew - himself included. He had started to open his mouth to say as much when the last tidbit of news slipped from her lips, and he closed his jaw slowly as he looked at her with renewed thoughtfulness.

After several long moments he raised his glass in a silent toast, accepting the sting. He did not drink, however, instead lowering his drink to rest on the table once more. "It does not," he said quietly. "But if you are also in agreement, I will not argue it." He took no pleasure in his friend being stripped of her rank, even if it had been consensual... and despite her phrasing he was not entirely certain that it had been. But neither was it his business what happened between another region's leader and his council so the King merely held his peace and sighed. "But I will help you if I can." Searching for weaknesses, aiding others, improving themselves... all things he would gladly assist with, both because she was his friend and because it would help everyone in the long run.

Maea

Oh, when the world is burning

"No? I'd be a perfect scapegoat, though, if blaming the situation on someone would cement the rest of you together," she noted laconically. "I wouldn't mind - use whatever is available to you if it helps protect your people."

Emptying her glass, Maea pushed it away and folded her empty hands into her lap. Her damp clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin, and now that the warmth of the bar was starting to sink in - aided by the burn of alcohol in her veins - she was growing more aware of the droplets that trickled down her neck from the wet hair. Gathering the long locks over one shoulder, she began to coax it into a braid, slow and methodical.
"It's fine. I'll find some other way to be useful." Right now there wasn't really anything she wanted from Hadama. She still had most of the Climb to explore, looking for the flowers. Then there was the projects the Grounds was working towards, and her own quest... Maea didn't exactly lack for things to keep her busy.

Don't walk away

He watched her as she made her offer and drew a slow breath that he held for a count of five before he swallowed and then exhaled softly. "Thank you," he finally said, solemn but with a tightness at the corners of his eyes. "I will remember it. If it protects my people." He was not happy about it, but he was pragmatic enough that he did not reject the idea out of hand. It was an unpleasant weight on his chest, however, and he contemplated his almost-empty glass while Maea began to braid her white hair.

The rain outside was oddly fitting for the mood in the quiet bar. Grey and uncomfortably chill, the air held a clamminess that seemed to get right down to his bones. The alcohol might have warmed Maea, but Hadama did not seem to feel it as he was...

Not pushed away. But set adrift.

"...Then do not be a stranger," he said at last, pushing his chair back and rising slowly. He settled emerald eyes on Maea, searching her face wordlessly before he looked away. "You do not need to be 'useful' to visit here. Or to visit me." He bowed to her then and when he straightened the neutral serenity was back in place over his expression. "But I should return to work now. I hope I will see you again soon." Leaving the last bit of his drink, he turned and made his careful, dignified way back through the small bar and out into the rain once more.

~Fin~