Zavien
Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times
Zavien never expected Flora to yell - except in extreme imaginings - but her stoic composure is slightly more terrifying, the confidence intimidating in how she seems to know her place in existence, like the position was made for her and no one else, like she was created to be Queen. Whereas he never felt called or built for leadership, she owns it without apology. If his own city's future wasn't destined to end, he might have asked to learn from her. But fate is a funny thing, and Zavien can't afford to let his theoretical aspirations for a terminal position derail their meeting.
Glancing back at the caves again, he shakes his head, playfully firm in his new dislike for the tunnel system. "Well, it shouldn't happen again." It'd take the act of a god or having an experienced guide at his side to get him back in there. He's learned this lesson like many other mistakes he's made: the hard way.
Flora accepts the lemonade - a good sign if her smile means anything - and he watches as Spice chills the bottle. He takes a small sip of his own drink, wetting his dry mouth to face her and whatever judgement she may pass. The comment isn't as cruel or chastising as it might have been, but it lands with a gentle pinpointing of his mistake, ripping the apology forth without intention. "I'm sorry. I meant to reach out sooner, to apologize for what I'd said last time - for being an idiot." He laughs, attempting to infuse the moment with some humor, to show her that he's not above acknowledging his own faults - but it sounds hollow and cuts short, distracted as he runs his fingers through his hair.
His face falls, more serious and somber as he explains, "There was an accident in the Celestine and Lena - " Zavien looks down at the lemonade in his hands, steadying himself with a breath then raising his head again with a shrug of his shoulders. "Focusing on Stormbreak was the only way I could cope with her death." There's a muted factuality to it, not asking for sympathy or absolvement beyond understanding for his actions.
"It's not an excuse, but I am sorry it took so long, especially when you were gracious enough to lend us the soldiers for the Tower." The intensity in the green of his eyes begs forgiveness, an undercurrent of grief and appreciation twisting within.
The weight of his mood doesn't improve with her question. It's not something he'd planned to hide from her, although he hadn't expected to encounter the topic so soon.
He pauses before his head dips, heavy with the knowledge and responsibility he carries, disconnected in the sorrow he can't give in to. It's a confirmation of mourning, of devestation on the horizon. If she's already heard of the tremors, he assumes Soh will have told her of the conversation with Safrin, leaving him with little to say except, "We're planning to release the evacuation plans in the next day or so." The severity was too extreme, the risk too great.
Pain and dread threaten to rise, already grieving the loss of their home, but Flora isn't someone he'd expect or desire that kind of comfort from. Placing the emotions back in the box he's slowly been fortifying, Zavien swallows and lifts his eyes to meet Flora's. "With your blessing, I'd like to give people permission to come here - if that's where they choose to settle." The influx of people might be more than the usual immigration rate, and he'd hate to place that burden on any region without their permission.
Glancing back at the caves again, he shakes his head, playfully firm in his new dislike for the tunnel system. "Well, it shouldn't happen again." It'd take the act of a god or having an experienced guide at his side to get him back in there. He's learned this lesson like many other mistakes he's made: the hard way.
Flora accepts the lemonade - a good sign if her smile means anything - and he watches as Spice chills the bottle. He takes a small sip of his own drink, wetting his dry mouth to face her and whatever judgement she may pass. The comment isn't as cruel or chastising as it might have been, but it lands with a gentle pinpointing of his mistake, ripping the apology forth without intention. "I'm sorry. I meant to reach out sooner, to apologize for what I'd said last time - for being an idiot." He laughs, attempting to infuse the moment with some humor, to show her that he's not above acknowledging his own faults - but it sounds hollow and cuts short, distracted as he runs his fingers through his hair.
His face falls, more serious and somber as he explains, "There was an accident in the Celestine and Lena - " Zavien looks down at the lemonade in his hands, steadying himself with a breath then raising his head again with a shrug of his shoulders. "Focusing on Stormbreak was the only way I could cope with her death." There's a muted factuality to it, not asking for sympathy or absolvement beyond understanding for his actions.
"It's not an excuse, but I am sorry it took so long, especially when you were gracious enough to lend us the soldiers for the Tower." The intensity in the green of his eyes begs forgiveness, an undercurrent of grief and appreciation twisting within.
The weight of his mood doesn't improve with her question. It's not something he'd planned to hide from her, although he hadn't expected to encounter the topic so soon.
He pauses before his head dips, heavy with the knowledge and responsibility he carries, disconnected in the sorrow he can't give in to. It's a confirmation of mourning, of devestation on the horizon. If she's already heard of the tremors, he assumes Soh will have told her of the conversation with Safrin, leaving him with little to say except, "We're planning to release the evacuation plans in the next day or so." The severity was too extreme, the risk too great.
Pain and dread threaten to rise, already grieving the loss of their home, but Flora isn't someone he'd expect or desire that kind of comfort from. Placing the emotions back in the box he's slowly been fortifying, Zavien swallows and lifts his eyes to meet Flora's. "With your blessing, I'd like to give people permission to come here - if that's where they choose to settle." The influx of people might be more than the usual immigration rate, and he'd hate to place that burden on any region without their permission.
