Then... Maybe we must embrace that, Hodr. And if we can't embrace our own, we can embrace each other's, don't you think? I'll take your bird, you'll take my naked rat-bear.
( it's the most sincere thing she has ever written, she thinks. she always wanted to hold her brother's fear, but he'd never give it to her. armand carries his own and he carries it well. it's always only been herself and no one to share anything with, the bad, the good, the bad-that-becomes-good. )
Force of habit sends him retreating into the dark, but the raven is there, watching, breathing down his neck. It is made of shadows; shadows cast by his twin's unyielding light, and his father's gleaming gold. He hates it, hates it all.
Is it weakness to want to hold on to the spark of hope Sylvie now provides? With Geiravor he'd been a better man, a better everything — yet they'd both paid a price so terrible, he knows she'll never forgive him for it. He will never forgive himself for it. ]
I can handle a naked rat-bear. At least I don't have to look at it.
[ He should let go. This isn't right, this is only going to bring trouble upon them both. But with Sylvie, he feels seen.
( a pause. it isn't because she doubts he can dance. it's because she wants him to say that he wants her - to teach him, to show him, to learn from her. no one has ever been interested in learning from her before. so, she wants the words. she wants the words from him. )
I think the question is... Do you want me to show you?
[ Why is he suddenly nervous? She probably didn't mean anything by that, just a tease or an attempt to fluster him; Geiravor had liked to do that, delighting when she caught him off-guard by an unexpected declaration or a bold move. ]
( before him, it was eloisa, before eloisa, it was charles, before charles, it was her parents, but her parents were in no position to find anything beyond the bottom of the ocean. sylvie has waited to find herself, too, and while she thinks she's discovered bits and pieces, there's still a whole waiting. she's still working on the faceless, maybe she'll never be done.
armand is the one who comes closest, but armand is looking elsewhere, too, and that's fine, that's dandy. perfectly so.
the truth is, she is so used to waiting to be found, she doesn't quite know what to do with this feeling of someone holding out their hands for her specifically. do you reach back? to you stay put? do you run? )
I'm an expert hide-and-seeker, you should know. It seems, I hide better than anyone.
( that, too, requires patience. to not be found. )
[ He writes and sends the message in a rush, before he second guesses himself and backtracks and makes a decision he'll forever regret. What do you do when someone reaches for you? He probably shouldn't be reaching back and holding on, but, somehow, the darkness pressing against him only makes him more desperate to do so.
He doesn't want to disappear. He wants to be found.
And if she's anything like him, she wants that, too. ]
( she doesn't mean in the literal sense, she doesn't mean with his eyes. she means, will he search for her with his hands and his mind and his understanding? will he try to hold her and comprehend her? that kind of looking. will he? )
[ He knows she doesn't mean the literal kind of looking, but her words still draw a dark chuckle out of him. ]
Yes. Because I will look.
[ Part of him is scared. Not of what he might find, but of losing himself as he searches. It's a weakness he has; he looks so closely that he, too, is transformed by the search.
You say that like it's a bad thing, Geiravor's voice echoes in his head. ]
[ He doesn't know what this is, exactly. But does he need to? Does it even matter? He has her, and she has him. That's more important than anything, he thinks, especially in the kind of world in which they live in.
So he just adds: ] I can't wait to see you.
[ Not 'see you again,' because he hadn't really been seeing. Hadn't really been looking. ]
( it isn't meant jokingly. she wants to look pretty, so she can feel comfortable and so he can feel the comfort off of her. that's how these things spread, after all. )
[ He has a different definition of pretty now. Or, at least, he's ignored the bits he could no longer comprehend in the usual way, though if Baldr were to find out whatever this is that's going on, his brother would say that she was his type anyway. ]
(you feel nice, he means. she knows that's what he is telling her, she is good company, she is fun, she is all the things that make the world turn on its axis. and she knows she likes to be that to him.
it makes her feel more seen than any of the rest could have. )
I can't top that! Aren't you unbelievable?!
But I believe you. I believe I can be that to you.
[ He's relieved that she just... gets him. Even like this, when they're only dealing with words and nothing else. Even more when they're together. It's nice to be seen, for once. ]
You're already more than I could have ever hoped for, Sylvie.
As long as it's a game we win by participating rather than by beating the other, I think it's okay.
( a long moment of consideration. she's biting her lip and holding back for all of ten seconds, then she just writes it, the words she's thinking. what she wants him to know.
with everything that came before. for the both of them, she imagines. )
I like that kind of game. [ Being a twin, it had been about competition all his life. And it wasn't enough to have a twin, he had many other half-brothers who were better than him in the things his family thought mattered, too. He didn't know any different until Geiravor came and showed him how much fun could be had in just doing things together. ] We can beat the monsters together instead.
[ Though the words that come next drive him to silence. It wasn't that he didn't feel the same way; he knew he did, and that was how deeply he often felt about the things or people who mattered. It was all or nothing for him, even if he might burn himself in the process.
But this? This is new. And completely unexpected, since to him it had felt like his world had been completely torn apart by Geiravor's death. How was this possible? What had he even done to deserve this? ]
I must see you now, if you insist on saying such things.
[ It's not about doubting her. It's because he doubts himself, that he is truly worthy of such things. Maybe she'll change her tune when they're face to face, and she's reminded of just how... broken he is. ]
( no one ever must anything with sylvie. she has become so accustomed to not meaning anything to anyone, except armand to whom she is protection as he's protection to her. understanding and support, but even he must all sorts of other things, unrelated to her.
to be the center of someone's universe. feeling that important. that's new. even with eloisa... even then, right?
it was something else. eloisa left and sylvie didn't leave. she's still here.
is this what you get for staying?
she smiles. )
Well, since you insist, I suppose I'll get Edgar to drive me. I can be there soon.
Will you wait?
(will you wait for me, armand had asked her. and she'd said yes. if they both have monsters to beat, if they're bound by something so essential, maybe hodr will say yes, too. )
[ He'd meant to go to her, though he hadn't the faintest clue how; it wasn't like he could just get up and walk, not anymore. He could possibly blackmail Baldr into paying his Monsieur Dubois a visit and taking him along or something, but that was a very big if.
So her offering to come to him is both a relief and a thrill. It's new. Perhaps even dangerous. ]
Yes. I will wait for you.
[ It's not as if he has anywhere else to be, anyway. But the darkness that traps him doesn't feel so daunting now. Not with the promise of her sweet voice, her gentle touch, her bright laughter, her warm glow.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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( it's the most sincere thing she has ever written, she thinks. she always wanted to hold her brother's fear, but he'd never give it to her. armand carries his own and he carries it well. it's always only been herself and no one to share anything with, the bad, the good, the bad-that-becomes-good. )
Deal?
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Force of habit sends him retreating into the dark, but the raven is there, watching, breathing down his neck. It is made of shadows; shadows cast by his twin's unyielding light, and his father's gleaming gold. He hates it, hates it all.
Is it weakness to want to hold on to the spark of hope Sylvie now provides? With Geiravor he'd been a better man, a better everything — yet they'd both paid a price so terrible, he knows she'll never forgive him for it. He will never forgive himself for it. ]
I can handle a naked rat-bear. At least I don't have to look at it.
[ He should let go. This isn't right, this is only going to bring trouble upon them both. But with Sylvie, he feels seen.
He feels. ]
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And I can teach a black bird to sing. Or, if not sing, then at least dance the Charleston.
( she hopes he, too, will laugh a little at that. not at her, but with her. )
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How about me? Can you teach me?
[ Sure, he knows the steps of the usual dances. It had been part of his education. But dancing in the dark is something new, terrifying even. ]
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I think the question is...
Do you want me to show you?
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[ He understands why she asks, why she feels the need to phrase it that way. They're more alike than they know. ]
Fair warning, though, I am a slow learner. [ Or so his father has repeatedly complained. But he's only slow when he's disinterested. ]
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( he's bright and he's smart, she can tell. nothing gets past him, eyesight or not. she honestly thinks him capable of anything, everything.
but not like charles, not like mighty atlas. something else, something foreign to the ancient greeks. something entirely his own. )
But even if we pretend for a moment... I have patience! I have waited for a long time already.
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[ Why is he suddenly nervous? She probably didn't mean anything by that, just a tease or an attempt to fluster him; Geiravor had liked to do that, delighting when she caught him off-guard by an unexpected declaration or a bold move. ]
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( before him, it was eloisa, before eloisa, it was charles, before charles, it was her parents, but her parents were in no position to find anything beyond the bottom of the ocean. sylvie has waited to find herself, too, and while she thinks she's discovered bits and pieces, there's still a whole waiting. she's still working on the faceless, maybe she'll never be done.
armand is the one who comes closest, but armand is looking elsewhere, too, and that's fine, that's dandy. perfectly so.
the truth is, she is so used to waiting to be found, she doesn't quite know what to do with this feeling of someone holding out their hands for her specifically. do you reach back? to you stay put? do you run? )
I'm an expert hide-and-seeker, you should know. It seems, I hide better than anyone.
( that, too, requires patience. to not be found. )
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Not from me.
[ He writes and sends the message in a rush, before he second guesses himself and backtracks and makes a decision he'll forever regret. What do you do when someone reaches for you? He probably shouldn't be reaching back and holding on, but, somehow, the darkness pressing against him only makes him more desperate to do so.
He doesn't want to disappear. He wants to be found.
And if she's anything like him, she wants that, too. ]
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( she doesn't mean in the literal sense, she doesn't mean with his eyes. she means, will he search for her with his hands and his mind and his understanding? will he try to hold her and comprehend her? that kind of looking. will he? )
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Yes. Because I will look.
[ Part of him is scared. Not of what he might find, but of losing himself as he searches. It's a weakness he has; he looks so closely that he, too, is transformed by the search.
You say that like it's a bad thing, Geiravor's voice echoes in his head. ]
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( that's her promise to him, that if they're going to lose themselves in the search, they're going to do it together.
and are you really lost, when you're lost with someone else? )
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[ He doesn't know what this is, exactly. But does he need to? Does it even matter? He has her, and she has him. That's more important than anything, he thinks, especially in the kind of world in which they live in.
So he just adds: ] I can't wait to see you.
[ Not 'see you again,' because he hadn't really been seeing. Hadn't really been looking. ]
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( it isn't meant jokingly. she wants to look pretty, so she can feel comfortable and so he can feel the comfort off of her. that's how these things spread, after all. )
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[ He has a different definition of pretty now. Or, at least, he's ignored the bits he could no longer comprehend in the usual way, though if Baldr were to find out whatever this is that's going on, his brother would say that she was his type anyway. ]
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it makes her feel more seen than any of the rest could have. )
I can't top that! Aren't you unbelievable?!
But I believe you. I believe I can be that to you.
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[ He's relieved that she just... gets him. Even like this, when they're only dealing with words and nothing else. Even more when they're together. It's nice to be seen, for once. ]
You're already more than I could have ever hoped for, Sylvie.
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( a long moment of consideration. she's biting her lip and holding back for all of ten seconds, then she just writes it, the words she's thinking. what she wants him to know.
with everything that came before. for the both of them, she imagines. )
And you're not a consolation prize to me.
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[ Though the words that come next drive him to silence. It wasn't that he didn't feel the same way; he knew he did, and that was how deeply he often felt about the things or people who mattered. It was all or nothing for him, even if he might burn himself in the process.
But this? This is new. And completely unexpected, since to him it had felt like his world had been completely torn apart by Geiravor's death. How was this possible? What had he even done to deserve this? ]
I must see you now, if you insist on saying such things.
[ It's not about doubting her. It's because he doubts himself, that he is truly worthy of such things. Maybe she'll change her tune when they're face to face, and she's reminded of just how... broken he is. ]
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to be the center of someone's universe. feeling that important. that's new. even with eloisa... even then, right?
it was something else. eloisa left and sylvie didn't leave. she's still here.
is this what you get for staying?
she smiles. )
Well, since you insist, I suppose I'll get Edgar to drive me. I can be there soon.
Will you wait?
( will you wait for me, armand had asked her. and she'd said yes. if they both have monsters to beat, if they're bound by something so essential, maybe hodr will say yes, too. )
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So her offering to come to him is both a relief and a thrill. It's new. Perhaps even dangerous. ]
Yes. I will wait for you.
[ It's not as if he has anywhere else to be, anyway. But the darkness that traps him doesn't feel so daunting now. Not with the promise of her sweet voice, her gentle touch, her bright laughter, her warm glow.
He will wait. ]