DEIMOS
Considering the amount of they’d both endured over lifetimes, Deimos snagged at the freedom, the liberation, they had, to simply be. If she needed to unravel for a few moments in time, she was free to do so, safe in the solace, in the warmth, in the protection of shelters they’d built. No shame, no bitterness, no interludes of guilt; he wrapped himself around her and extended the shields of strength and fortitude when the might seemed distant; listening, waiting for the threads to unwind.
And when it was Noah, above all others, his jaw clenched and a mulish conjecture ground against his teeth. How many times would it take for the Forsaken to understand? What had gotten into him? What had made him stray so far down a path of mindlessness, from the man they’d known to be righteous, caring, and principled, to someone dangerous to their own allies, kin, and country? “Noah has hurt more than he has protected lately.” He managed at first – remembering the roar that had affected so many at the meeting, including Amhran. “I do not understand what is going on with him.”
Then there was Talyson, and he fought the incessant urgency to roll his eyes. While he lacked healing skills, the Sword wouldn’t have bothered tending to him regardless. A seed sown for all his actions and peevishness, for his horrid lies and outright blasphemy. “You are a better person for mending him at all,” and the ex-Halovian likely knew it. Holding her a little tighter, if only to ward off his own bitterness and cold, malevolent anger beginning to run through, he listened and scoffed. “I had to set up a training for him years ago to do the very same thing.” Hypocrite. “And no, you should not have to put up with him any longer. You endured more than enough.” With her head held high, with respect and diplomacy, with all the platitude and fortitude of a ruler who couldn’t stoop to another’s level, despite every lie mounted upon her. “So with that taken care of, what do we want to do about Noah?” If anything could be done.
And when it was Noah, above all others, his jaw clenched and a mulish conjecture ground against his teeth. How many times would it take for the Forsaken to understand? What had gotten into him? What had made him stray so far down a path of mindlessness, from the man they’d known to be righteous, caring, and principled, to someone dangerous to their own allies, kin, and country? “Noah has hurt more than he has protected lately.” He managed at first – remembering the roar that had affected so many at the meeting, including Amhran. “I do not understand what is going on with him.”
Then there was Talyson, and he fought the incessant urgency to roll his eyes. While he lacked healing skills, the Sword wouldn’t have bothered tending to him regardless. A seed sown for all his actions and peevishness, for his horrid lies and outright blasphemy. “You are a better person for mending him at all,” and the ex-Halovian likely knew it. Holding her a little tighter, if only to ward off his own bitterness and cold, malevolent anger beginning to run through, he listened and scoffed. “I had to set up a training for him years ago to do the very same thing.” Hypocrite. “And no, you should not have to put up with him any longer. You endured more than enough.” With her head held high, with respect and diplomacy, with all the platitude and fortitude of a ruler who couldn’t stoop to another’s level, despite every lie mounted upon her. “So with that taken care of, what do we want to do about Noah?” If anything could be done.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
