(SE) never really had a way with words

when driving past your house, the taste of iron in my mouth
or the shame, that i have to look like mom

“Oh, well,” Sunjata pauses, snorting to Koa’s blandness as he takes a sharp inhale through his teeth that nearly whispers as if he’s trying to figure out where to start. “She attuned me, you know. So, I felt like I owed her something. I wanted to be to her like how Amalia had been.” Sure that Koa had heard of Amalia, he trudges on. “So, unsurprisingly, I agreed to nearly everything she’d said. I rebuilt the Temple in the Grounds for her. She finished my tattoos and enchanted them so that the stars would move within them.” For emphasis, he lifts the arm with the sleeve tattoo of waves within, the stars sprinkled within that don’t move any longer.

“And when I governed this place, I hit a point where I had asked Nate to become governor alongside me. She demanded I make him step down. She’d never let Nate join in on anything Torchline related, always tried to make me choose between him and her. So I stepped down as Governor." And Maeve had taken his place, changed the title to Queens and Kings. "Kamaria, my daughter, had come to me already aged a small amount. Things were fine, she loved Torchline and Nate and everything she learned about the world. But Safrin continued to whisper in her ears that Nate would kill her in her sleep if ever given the chance. So I continued to appease her, try and give her everything I could to try and prevent the rift she grew between our daughter and I.” All that Safrin wanted, Sunjata had tried to do.

“And she asked time and time again for me to become her demigod and I couldn’t… Give in and say yes to a goddess who needed to be the only thing I ever needed.” He exhales a sigh, tilts his head away from his husband’s lantern to look at Koa again. “So then Frey asked when I asked them about a quest. Said I could keep my shifts and they would help me make the safe haven to keep everyone safe, Ascended included. I agreed and spent gods know how long in their void to burn her out of me. There was a night before the war when the sky was empty of stars, like during LongNight. That was the night Frey changed me.” He pauses, trying to make sure that Koa’s following along because helloooooo, info dump!  “When that was done, I’d never felt freer.” Another brief pause, because he needs to figure out his words.

“But Ronin dragged me up to the shrine to speak with her and you know what happened? I upset her so much that she killed me, and left it up to Ronin to decide whether I died that day before the safe haven was even completed or to bring me back.” And obviously, Safrin’s demigod had brought him back. “And then, Safrin had spent the night explaining to our daughter that I didn’t care about her, claimed that I had chosen to put her in danger and couldn’t protect her, and had Ronin come and take her away from me to live in the Greatwood.” And now she’s in the stars.

He draws silent, though, allowing for the answer to his question on Stormbreak, finding it a much easier topic of conversation (surprisingly), and allows the little smile to bloom on the scarred corner of his lips in agreement to that statement. Safety was important, of course. Provided it was a service offered to everyone. But he doesn’t expect the subtle offer, a small huff of a laugh leaving him as he returns to attaching pieces of his lantern. “Back in my old world I was a part of an organization who’s job was to keep people safe, funnily enough.” He casts a glance back over to Koa. “But I’m afraid with my Safrin betrayal, amongst other things, I’m not really that welcome most places these days.” He isn’t denying it, and if Koa pushes the subject a bit more he’s quite likely to agree actually. Much to his surprise.

the flood

disgraced, i made me my father's son
you're still to close to me, i swear at night i feel your breath

Oh ok, so this is a lot.

Koa listens with an attitude that's half rapt fascination, half stunned disbelief, as Sunjata spins a tale as sordid and engrossing than anything he might have read in a paperback thriller, were he the type to read. He does his best to nod, shake his head, or widen his eyes as contextually appropriate, but there are certainly points where all the demigod gets back is a blank stare and a slightly opened mouth, brows furrowed in a clear expression of 'koa.exe has stopped working".

And he died?! "That's... a lot," Koa says finally, after a prolonged pause. He isn't sure what more to say, too befuddled and overwhelmed to offer comfort or questions. "Thanks for... for telling me all of it, though. It's good to know what really happened." Doubtless he'll have many, many questions once the information settles, but for now? For now he can only focus on finishing the structure of his lantern and try not to wonder too very hard what fucking a goddess must be like.

And then there's the Dragoons, a lifeline for our poor lad. He glances sidelong again at Sunjata, shrugging as the last frame of the lantern clicks into place (no, the construction has made no sense; yes, we're gonna just roll with it). "I think if people are willing to protect others, they should be welcome to do so," Koa says softly, chewing on his lip. "I mean - you said it. The war was about people being different, and hating each other for it." What's this? Growth? "So maybe the best way to prevent another one is to try and put our differences aside, and instead focus on keeping each other safe? That's what I want for the Dragoons, at least." So there are no more broken families. No more men like them.

be love in its disrepute,

scorches the hillside and salts every root

when driving past your house, the taste of iron in my mouth
or the shame, that i have to look like mom

It was a lot, and he doesn’t blame the young man for that look one gets when they’ve been overwhelmed by information. So he wisely shuts his trap after a small huff leaves him and he works on more of the lantern, slotting pieces in here and there to make sure that the sun and moon effects seemed like they might glow from within the lantern where the candle would sit. “I’m sure I’m forgetting some, but that’s the basic gist of it.” He makes a gesture toward his head as if to say he’s lost a few memories.

It happens when one’s faced death so many times, sometimes things start to blur together or completely slip out unannounced.

As for the Dragoons, he draws silent to let Koa continue his pitch, and gods if it doesn’t sound like something he’d be willing to do. So he finishes off Nate’s lantern before sitting back in his seat comfortably, able to give all of his attention back to the dragonling. “I can get behind that.” And he mulls it over thoughtfully, trying to make a decision. “Can I think on the offer for a bit and get back to you?” His steel gaze lifts to focus on Koa, head tilting slightly.

the flood

disgraced, i made me my father's son
you're still to close to me, i swear at night i feel your breath

Silently Koa wonders if it isn't a mistake, to wish to live in more interesting times. He's always longed for adventure and battle, but Sunjata's tale has cast a shadow over his rosy view of war heroes and demigods, grand adventures and historic conflicts.

His lantern all but finished and his thoughts rather dazed, Koa nods along at Sunjata's question, an enthusiastic look in his bright young eyes. "Of course - you can always send me a letter at the Dragoon headquarters in Stormbreak. I can meet you." The absence of an invitation to Stormbreak is as much as a statement: for all of his naiveté, he knows enough to know that it will be some time before Sunjata is truly welcome in his home.

Rising up with his lantern, Koa clicks for Pip to squirm back onto his arm. "We oughta be going, but it was good to meet you, Mr Sunjata." The boy's smile is subdued, weighted down by all he has learned. "And thanks- for telling me all of that. And... I'm sorry,"" he adds, looking down. "About your husband. And your daughter. And everything else you lost."

Then he turns and makes his way back into Torchline's busy streets, thoughts heavier and brain fuller than when he'd first sat down.

{fin}

be love in its disrepute,

scorches the hillside and salts every root