Final Farewell|Malagard, Khelek
Dec 9, 2009 5:45:37 GMT -5
Post by Darastrix on Dec 9, 2009 5:45:37 GMT -5
~What do you have against him?~ came the gentle question.
The answer was swift and sharp. ~Why are you supporting this?~
A mental sigh, one that spoke volumes of little sleep and much care, echoed softly across the connection. ~Because he doesn't need more people giving advice and pointing out flaws. He needs someone to believe in him. Confidence is as important to success as a well-laid plan.~
~He trusts you, Zira. You might be able to talk him out of this mess.~ Schuldig almost regretted his words as he felt a sudden twist of pain--not his own--throb in his chest. He rubbed the area above his heart, unaware of the motion.
~With as much as he's done, with everything moving forward, and with such stakes, all an attempt on my part to discourage him could do is foster doubt as he goes on. I don't know what may happen, but I am certain that he would go on even without any support. He's that determined.~ Zira sounded wretched and he knew it. He had a tendency toward taking things to heart, and the matter with Shyamal, who he'd begun to love as if he were his own son, was striking a painful chord. ~I won't leave him feeling betrayed. I can't do that to him.~
Schuldig's tone turned incredulous. ~But you can let him go to his death?~
~Schuldig, why do you even care?~ Zira's tone turned tired. ~You've made it clear that you think this is a lost cause and that Shyamal is an idealistic fool.~
~I'm beginning to think you are, too,~ Schuldig snapped. ~You are worried sick about him and they haven't even left the palace yet. I can taste it. It's an oddly addicting flavour, actually....~
It was, too. The fear Zira projected was unmistakable, dark and rich, with a sharp edge, like the blade of a sword. Schuldig bit his lip and tasted blood briefly before the cut closed over. Not quite the same flavour, though the metallic tang fit in somewhere. A drop or two of that, and...chocolate, maybe, unsweetened. Yessss...dark and rich and bitter. There was urgency as well, burning like raw ginger on the tongue. And underlying it all was...sweetness? Ah. Zira really did love the boy, he had to admit. And it did make the whole thing so much more palatable...
~How am I an idealistic fool?~ Zira finally asked. At his home in Anarlina, he poured himself a cup of tea in an attempt to get the flavours Schuldig had inadvertently shared out of his mouth, ignoring the suggestion that a red dessert wine could complement it better.
~You're scared to death for him and yet you're letting him walk off because of this tiny scrap of hope that wouldn't so much as cover a flea.~
~Then let me be a fool,~ Zira murmured. ~You're being oddly...kind about this,~ he added after a moment. ~Not as much vitriol as I would have expected.~ They had rarely spoken of the matter in Anarlina. When they saw each other, Shyamal was usually the last thing Schuldig would want to talk about, and when he had, well.
~I'm running low,~ Schuldig said, his tone wry. ~And I'm about where you are. Different reasons, of course, but I'm so fucking tired of this. I have the dubious luxury of not caring what happens, but this whole thing has dragged up so much shit that I never wanted to think about again. That takes it out of a person. And being that much of an asshole takes a lot of energy even if I do have natural talent there. I haven't even bothered the kid.~
~Good. He doesn't need that from you now. He didn't need it in the first place,~ Zira replied, though there was little heat in the words.
~For all the good it did, I guess not.~
~'Good?'~
~I am not the eternal optimist,~ Schuldig reminded him. ~I did my job, and as adviser, I couldn't exactly give advice I'm not going to stand behind. You have your views, I have mine, and I am fucking pushy with them. Now, what do you WANT? You didn't get my attention just to chat.~
After taking a couple of hours to rest, Schuldig grabbed a bottle of lavender oil and the makings of ginger tea for the inevitable headache he'd have later and stretched out in his room. He touched base with Zira first, then sent a thread of thought out to Shyamal.
~Hey, kid. Got a message for you. Come to my room; it'll be easier with one of you close as you can get.~
The answer was swift and sharp. ~Why are you supporting this?~
A mental sigh, one that spoke volumes of little sleep and much care, echoed softly across the connection. ~Because he doesn't need more people giving advice and pointing out flaws. He needs someone to believe in him. Confidence is as important to success as a well-laid plan.~
~He trusts you, Zira. You might be able to talk him out of this mess.~ Schuldig almost regretted his words as he felt a sudden twist of pain--not his own--throb in his chest. He rubbed the area above his heart, unaware of the motion.
~With as much as he's done, with everything moving forward, and with such stakes, all an attempt on my part to discourage him could do is foster doubt as he goes on. I don't know what may happen, but I am certain that he would go on even without any support. He's that determined.~ Zira sounded wretched and he knew it. He had a tendency toward taking things to heart, and the matter with Shyamal, who he'd begun to love as if he were his own son, was striking a painful chord. ~I won't leave him feeling betrayed. I can't do that to him.~
Schuldig's tone turned incredulous. ~But you can let him go to his death?~
~Schuldig, why do you even care?~ Zira's tone turned tired. ~You've made it clear that you think this is a lost cause and that Shyamal is an idealistic fool.~
~I'm beginning to think you are, too,~ Schuldig snapped. ~You are worried sick about him and they haven't even left the palace yet. I can taste it. It's an oddly addicting flavour, actually....~
It was, too. The fear Zira projected was unmistakable, dark and rich, with a sharp edge, like the blade of a sword. Schuldig bit his lip and tasted blood briefly before the cut closed over. Not quite the same flavour, though the metallic tang fit in somewhere. A drop or two of that, and...chocolate, maybe, unsweetened. Yessss...dark and rich and bitter. There was urgency as well, burning like raw ginger on the tongue. And underlying it all was...sweetness? Ah. Zira really did love the boy, he had to admit. And it did make the whole thing so much more palatable...
~How am I an idealistic fool?~ Zira finally asked. At his home in Anarlina, he poured himself a cup of tea in an attempt to get the flavours Schuldig had inadvertently shared out of his mouth, ignoring the suggestion that a red dessert wine could complement it better.
~You're scared to death for him and yet you're letting him walk off because of this tiny scrap of hope that wouldn't so much as cover a flea.~
~Then let me be a fool,~ Zira murmured. ~You're being oddly...kind about this,~ he added after a moment. ~Not as much vitriol as I would have expected.~ They had rarely spoken of the matter in Anarlina. When they saw each other, Shyamal was usually the last thing Schuldig would want to talk about, and when he had, well.
~I'm running low,~ Schuldig said, his tone wry. ~And I'm about where you are. Different reasons, of course, but I'm so fucking tired of this. I have the dubious luxury of not caring what happens, but this whole thing has dragged up so much shit that I never wanted to think about again. That takes it out of a person. And being that much of an asshole takes a lot of energy even if I do have natural talent there. I haven't even bothered the kid.~
~Good. He doesn't need that from you now. He didn't need it in the first place,~ Zira replied, though there was little heat in the words.
~For all the good it did, I guess not.~
~'Good?'~
~I am not the eternal optimist,~ Schuldig reminded him. ~I did my job, and as adviser, I couldn't exactly give advice I'm not going to stand behind. You have your views, I have mine, and I am fucking pushy with them. Now, what do you WANT? You didn't get my attention just to chat.~
After taking a couple of hours to rest, Schuldig grabbed a bottle of lavender oil and the makings of ginger tea for the inevitable headache he'd have later and stretched out in his room. He touched base with Zira first, then sent a thread of thought out to Shyamal.
~Hey, kid. Got a message for you. Come to my room; it'll be easier with one of you close as you can get.~