Zavien
"I grew up." Zavien nods his head at the statement, having realized that truth himself, and struggling to blend it with the person he knew before. It's like realizing the puzzle pieces in his hands didn't match the outline he'd already put together, like he'd been focusing on the wrong parts the whole time.
Some of Kai's confession help it to make more sense, to show him what had matured the boy into a man: love, conflict, responsibilities. And yet, as someone who had been a brother-in-arms and a mentor at times, he finds himself plagued by the guilt of not being a better friend, for leaving the young man to wrestle with these things alone. The Dragoons had done little to prepare any of them for the tribulations of real life, but Zavien speaks of more than training sessions when he shakes his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "We definitely didn't, but maybe we should have."
His gaze follows nearly every movement, flitting from Kai's hands to the wound to the now-empty perimeter of the ring, but his green eyes land fully on his face when the apology comes. There's no judgement mixed amidst the strain, no hatred amidst the guilt when he purses his lips. "I get it. I'm sorry I held it against you for so long. I haven't - " he cuts off, unable to put into words the stresses and anxieties that have stolen the peace he used to find so easily, how it's placed everything on the tip of a blade, every possible threat becoming that much worse. Zavien had never considered himself a pessimist, and yet, recent months have leant his thoughts to darkness and worst-case scenarios. It's not someone he wants to be.
Settling on a simpler truth, Zavien runs a hand through his hair, the bit of sweat sticking the strands up at odd angles. He looks more tired than before, older than he's felt in a long time. "Things have been really hard, and I'd convinced myself I couldn't trust you anymore." His eyes meet Kai's again, regret painting his features dark. "That wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry."
The smile that appears is nothing bright or joyous, but it still melts a bit of the fog he'd been seeing through, their commonality tugging quietly at the edge of his lips. But it doesn't quite break out to join Kai's, his eyes falling to the extended hand and the certainty with which he declares the future. "Yeah," Zavien says softly. He doesn't feel the same level of confidence as he used to - even if he knows how determined he is to make it true. He'd felt that same way about Stormbreak, about Lena. Just because he's going to do everything in his power to protect Soh and their daughter doesn't mean he'll be able to prevent anything bad from happening to them. But it doesn't stop him from taking Kai hand, from hoping that it might be true.
He's surprised when the man pulls him into a hug, instinct making him stiff before he relaxes into the motion. It doesn't wash away his worries or resolve all the hurt between them, but it bridges some of the gap, making the chasm feel less daunting than before, as if he can see the bottom and understand all the monsters that roam there.
Zavien stays in it for a moment before patting Kai on the back, still feeling awkward about it all, especially as his eyes flicker to the split in his pants. The skin might be clear, but he knows what the pain is like, and he visibly grimaces. "Sorry again about the burn. You're free to burn me back if it helps - or throw a punch or two." Gods know he deserves it after all this, and he tries to muster a facsimile of a smile, perhaps in joke or encouragement.
Some of Kai's confession help it to make more sense, to show him what had matured the boy into a man: love, conflict, responsibilities. And yet, as someone who had been a brother-in-arms and a mentor at times, he finds himself plagued by the guilt of not being a better friend, for leaving the young man to wrestle with these things alone. The Dragoons had done little to prepare any of them for the tribulations of real life, but Zavien speaks of more than training sessions when he shakes his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "We definitely didn't, but maybe we should have."
His gaze follows nearly every movement, flitting from Kai's hands to the wound to the now-empty perimeter of the ring, but his green eyes land fully on his face when the apology comes. There's no judgement mixed amidst the strain, no hatred amidst the guilt when he purses his lips. "I get it. I'm sorry I held it against you for so long. I haven't - " he cuts off, unable to put into words the stresses and anxieties that have stolen the peace he used to find so easily, how it's placed everything on the tip of a blade, every possible threat becoming that much worse. Zavien had never considered himself a pessimist, and yet, recent months have leant his thoughts to darkness and worst-case scenarios. It's not someone he wants to be.
Settling on a simpler truth, Zavien runs a hand through his hair, the bit of sweat sticking the strands up at odd angles. He looks more tired than before, older than he's felt in a long time. "Things have been really hard, and I'd convinced myself I couldn't trust you anymore." His eyes meet Kai's again, regret painting his features dark. "That wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry."
The smile that appears is nothing bright or joyous, but it still melts a bit of the fog he'd been seeing through, their commonality tugging quietly at the edge of his lips. But it doesn't quite break out to join Kai's, his eyes falling to the extended hand and the certainty with which he declares the future. "Yeah," Zavien says softly. He doesn't feel the same level of confidence as he used to - even if he knows how determined he is to make it true. He'd felt that same way about Stormbreak, about Lena. Just because he's going to do everything in his power to protect Soh and their daughter doesn't mean he'll be able to prevent anything bad from happening to them. But it doesn't stop him from taking Kai hand, from hoping that it might be true.
He's surprised when the man pulls him into a hug, instinct making him stiff before he relaxes into the motion. It doesn't wash away his worries or resolve all the hurt between them, but it bridges some of the gap, making the chasm feel less daunting than before, as if he can see the bottom and understand all the monsters that roam there.
Zavien stays in it for a moment before patting Kai on the back, still feeling awkward about it all, especially as his eyes flicker to the split in his pants. The skin might be clear, but he knows what the pain is like, and he visibly grimaces. "Sorry again about the burn. You're free to burn me back if it helps - or throw a punch or two." Gods know he deserves it after all this, and he tries to muster a facsimile of a smile, perhaps in joke or encouragement.
We wear our scars as proof
that we are still alive.
