[She does look it over. The prick is minuscule, barely noticeable against the vivid red and cream colour of his skin and scales. She still taps a finger to it and casts a minor cure, just because she's already made a fuss.]
...I know. I know it's supposed to be part of life. [Her eyes stay on the claws. She makes a hypocrite of herself and presses a finger tip to one, though she doesn't draw blood.] It's just hard to look back and see how easy it all could have been.
[The miserable tears have stopped at least. Just a soft hiccup and sniffles to betray her, along with wet and reddened cheeks.
Then the world shifts a second time. This journey takes more than one turn: several impressions are made, rather than watching any one scene. She sees his sister again. More of his family, his life as a small boy.
Then the calling comes, and the inevitable happens. He's not there for it, but the pain is profound. It's no easier to hear about than it is to witness. And it's a wound that carries on for all the many, many years his kind have to live.
She comes out of the vision with a heavy heart, eyes fluttering to hold back new tears. It's hard, when she's already been shedding so many. Her gaze meets his, one hand still cupping the broad knuckles of his own. The other comes to press at his chest, marking the heart. It takes some time before she feels steady enough to speak.]
She was your whole world, wasn't she? [That insurmountable love is still echoing within her. It's as if she grew up with Mipha herself, though Rosamund has never had a sibling. Not so much as a cousin close in age.] And to lose her to something that went so terribly wrong...
[They all perished. The saviour disappeared. Insult to injury.]
[ the curative magic flows over his 'wound,' and his feelings are sympathetic in answer. it's hard when something so devastating happens that there is no right thing to say, no magic word or advice. it really is, just—
yeah, life's like that sometimes. the fairies' offer was truly tempting for a reason. the memory that plays out seems to only emphasize that, a picture of long-lived grief.
he emerges from it with a wince. a second spent on recovering and finding his voice, too. ]
...This one is a favorite to show people, apparently. [ he smiles, a bit wry. sometimes your memories are largely good, so these hellish little voids seek out the worst one. he's got some practice reliving it now, at least, even if he'll never be used to it. ] Still, it's all right. It's been a long time since then.
[ he puts a hand over hers, though it's hard to say if it's for her comfort or his own. mostly the former, but maybe still a little the latter, judging by the weight of his palm, the way he holds her hand against his heart. ]
But I won't say it gets easier, at least not in the ways you might hope. [ he wants to respect her decisions enough to be frank. ]
[The breadth of his hand over hers makes her heart ache even more. In his own moments of weakness he still seeks to bolster her. An absolute prince, through and through. Even when it doesn't serve him.]
No. I don't expect it would. [Particularly not when he's been buffeted about the head with it so many times. They like their little repetitions, these memory voids.] Losing family is different. When it's the one you love the most, it's different.
[She thinks of Ylfa, whose grandmother is a constant on her mind. That's recent, but it likely won't fade for many years. Sidon will live for centuries it seems, and perhaps that only makes the loss more galling. What happened to the hundreds of years promised to Mipha? How common was it to lose anyone at all, when you grow so mighty and long-lived?]
I think she'd be quite proud of you, though. You've become everything a noble should be. That a brother should be. [She smiles, bringing the hand she grasps aloft to her lips for a kiss.] There is no world in which your love for her isn't a source of strength. And I know hers for you was just as great.
You've done right by her, Sidon. Please believe in that much.
[ he doesn't lack for conviction, or most days, confidence, but even then—he can't help but close his eyes a moment, letting her words land. even if it is a very old grief, even if he keeps his heart bolstered and is no longer an inconsolable child about it, of course it's—nice? it's... nice to hear that he might be taking strides to honor her memory. she can feel it in his feelings: that aged mourning, but also gratitude that sits atop it, brighter and warmer and more fixed in the present. ]
...You have a way with words from the heart, princess. [ said more like a nickname than status. he smiles, sincere and a little worn, like a comfy old sweater. he laughs when she kisses his hand, feeling like she might be the dashing prince here. ]
We're just taking turns licking each others wounds, aren't we? [ ... ] I'm sorry you lost your prince. [ she lost the potential of someone to love, a perfect life, and he imagines she is grieving after that, too. ] Just as I'm sorry that all of us lost Mipha. It isn't very fair, sometimes.
[ his mood is lighter now though. sometimes life is awful, and sometimes you find a very excellent person to share your burdens and grievances and smiles with. ]
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no subject
...I know. I know it's supposed to be part of life. [Her eyes stay on the claws. She makes a hypocrite of herself and presses a finger tip to one, though she doesn't draw blood.] It's just hard to look back and see how easy it all could have been.
[The miserable tears have stopped at least. Just a soft hiccup and sniffles to betray her, along with wet and reddened cheeks.
Then the world shifts a second time. This journey takes more than one turn: several impressions are made, rather than watching any one scene. She sees his sister again. More of his family, his life as a small boy.
Then the calling comes, and the inevitable happens. He's not there for it, but the pain is profound. It's no easier to hear about than it is to witness. And it's a wound that carries on for all the many, many years his kind have to live.
She comes out of the vision with a heavy heart, eyes fluttering to hold back new tears. It's hard, when she's already been shedding so many. Her gaze meets his, one hand still cupping the broad knuckles of his own. The other comes to press at his chest, marking the heart. It takes some time before she feels steady enough to speak.]
She was your whole world, wasn't she? [That insurmountable love is still echoing within her. It's as if she grew up with Mipha herself, though Rosamund has never had a sibling. Not so much as a cousin close in age.] And to lose her to something that went so terribly wrong...
[They all perished. The saviour disappeared. Insult to injury.]
I'm so sorry, Sidon.
no subject
yeah, life's like that sometimes. the fairies' offer was truly tempting for a reason. the memory that plays out seems to only emphasize that, a picture of long-lived grief.
he emerges from it with a wince. a second spent on recovering and finding his voice, too. ]
...This one is a favorite to show people, apparently. [ he smiles, a bit wry. sometimes your memories are largely good, so these hellish little voids seek out the worst one. he's got some practice reliving it now, at least, even if he'll never be used to it. ] Still, it's all right. It's been a long time since then.
[ he puts a hand over hers, though it's hard to say if it's for her comfort or his own. mostly the former, but maybe still a little the latter, judging by the weight of his palm, the way he holds her hand against his heart. ]
But I won't say it gets easier, at least not in the ways you might hope. [ he wants to respect her decisions enough to be frank. ]
no subject
No. I don't expect it would. [Particularly not when he's been buffeted about the head with it so many times. They like their little repetitions, these memory voids.] Losing family is different. When it's the one you love the most, it's different.
[She thinks of Ylfa, whose grandmother is a constant on her mind. That's recent, but it likely won't fade for many years. Sidon will live for centuries it seems, and perhaps that only makes the loss more galling. What happened to the hundreds of years promised to Mipha? How common was it to lose anyone at all, when you grow so mighty and long-lived?]
I think she'd be quite proud of you, though. You've become everything a noble should be. That a brother should be. [She smiles, bringing the hand she grasps aloft to her lips for a kiss.] There is no world in which your love for her isn't a source of strength. And I know hers for you was just as great.
You've done right by her, Sidon. Please believe in that much.
no subject
...You have a way with words from the heart, princess. [ said more like a nickname than status. he smiles, sincere and a little worn, like a comfy old sweater. he laughs when she kisses his hand, feeling like she might be the dashing prince here. ]
We're just taking turns licking each others wounds, aren't we? [ ... ] I'm sorry you lost your prince. [ she lost the potential of someone to love, a perfect life, and he imagines she is grieving after that, too. ] Just as I'm sorry that all of us lost Mipha. It isn't very fair, sometimes.
[ his mood is lighter now though. sometimes life is awful, and sometimes you find a very excellent person to share your burdens and grievances and smiles with. ]