driftfleet | mingle on the pathstone

[he hooks a finger under the chain around his neck, and pulls the gemstone pendant he wears at all times out from under his shirt. he tends to push the thing over his shoulder so that it hangs protected behind him when he's sleeping, or turn it completely around so that the gem face is resting against his chest when there are people sharing his nest... but now, he presses it right into her hands, and folds her fingers tight around it.

there are some types of psychic connection in the universe that are gentle or polite, and this is neither of those. as soon as the gem comes in contact with her skin, whether or not she's ever experienced anything like it, it's instantly clear that she's somehow coming in contact with part of the dragon's soul.

it sticks right to hers as if there is no physical reality separating the two of them. whether she wants it to or not, it clings. she can feel all of the funereal worldstuff that he's made of, and how this is just a tiny door that leads back into the entirety of everything that he can't fit in this useless mortal body.

it's like being pulled into an enormous mansion whose walls stretch so far into darkness that they're impossible to see. it echoes on and on, through a labyrinth of hallways and passages and pure history. and as long as she's touching that stone, she's stuck there.]

--Watch.

[the voice is in her head, hissing and sharp.]

[It's not entirely unlike how she felt after drinking from the Well of Sorrows. Suddenly her head is too full, she aches, but there's a lick of pride up her spine when she doesn't cry out like she had in the Well. Because she's had herself invaded in the past she's minutely better able to handle it now, with absolutely warning.

Thank you, Tek.

Her hands clasp around the pendant and she takes a shuddering breath, closes her eyes to better focus on... whatever he's going to show her.]

[he doesn't usually let anyone near his memories, let alone drag them out to forcefully show them to someone.

but she's thrown the gauntlet down. he can't just let her go on without knowing.

however, he doesn't show her the worst. he could probably have dredged up uglier images and pettier deeds, but... he's choosing this one for a reason. he's showing her exactly what has already cost him one ally.

the images are from one of the wars he participated in, where great monsters that shouldn't have been involved in mortal affairs at all caused unimaginable destruction. they were recruited on both sides to act as weapons, to help the human armies destroy one another, and Tek had gone along with it gleefully.

she gets to experience it from his point of view--tapped directly into every life and death around him, as he is. she can feel the wells of power that Atroma has capped here, somewhat, unfettered in this memory as he wipes out dozens of mortal soldiers.]

[The elven god she bears the markings of, Ghilan'nain, had done something like that. Created all the monsters, formed them into nightmares and populated the seas and sky and the land with things that were too horrible to exist.

Maybe, if the elven gods had had their way, this kind of war would have changed things between the elves and the humans. Maybe if they had had a dragon like Tek, the elves would remember their own language, their own past, their own art.

More than that, she's seen a dragon do this, sweep down on its master's orders and kill hundreds, but Jove had thought at the time it was just a creature. Soon, she'll use the power of Mythal to call a guardian dragon to her aid, and will it be any different than this? Will she hesitate to send the dragon to kill Corypheus' Red Templars? She won't, because war is savage and there is always one side that must win.

She feels Tek's pleasure in this savagery, but why shouldn't he be feeling that way? From what she knows of him it's his nature, and she can hardly fault any creature for following what it knows to do.

She doesn't let go of the pendant or his hands, and she doesn't try to look away.]

[it must have started that way, with the mortals recruiting what they thought would be their winning weapon--an ancient dragon who other beasts would follow as their queen. but they were no master to her, and the battle became more hers than theirs. as Tekhetsio carved a path through the ranks, he cared very little about which side the mortals before him were fighting for. he followed the bidding of his queen, and her only order was to kill.

they broke the rules that they were created to follow, ruined the human lives that they were meant to protect, because that is what would most hurt those who still followed the old ways. the dragons were fighting over ideologies as much as the humans were fighting over king and country, but it was the mortals who were doing almost all of the suffering for it.

the ferocious joy that filled him as he razed the army wasn't the thrill of a fighter enjoying his work, but a dissenter reveling in wrongdoing. and she gets to experience it as if she's the one spreading her wings and feeling each life wink out.

there were many powerful creatures fighting then, but only a few monsters.]

[Finally, she starts to have her doubts. In battle the lines were always clearly drawn and there was no call to ever cross them, as far as she was concerned. If you fought for the right side and you knew your enemies and what they stood for, there shouldn't ever be a reason for what Tek is doing.

But now she can feel it, feel it the way he had as he'd done this terrible thing, it becomes impossible to compare him to Blackwall or anyone else she knows. This is on a different level, one she doesn't think a mortal creature could ever reach.

And still, tucked away in a place that she doesn't like to consider, there's still the part of her that isn't sad to see humans die. It doesn't make what she's watching the dragon do better, or acceptable, but once she recognizes the very small hint of satisfaction at the death of armies of humans she can't just ignore it. Humans have done so much to elves, too much, and they-

She drags in a shuddering breath and closes her eyes tightly, trying to focus on the things Tek is showing her and not her dark satisfaction at seeing humans suffer.]

[maybe he senses that break in her concentration--maybe he can even tell why it happened--but he ends the vision there. curling his fingers, he scoops the gem back into his palm and peels their souls apart.

she's pushed back out the door and into her own body, as he slips the pendant under the collar of his shirt again.]

Edited 2016-01-26 02:27 (UTC)

[For a moment she seems at a loss, but as Jove sits back a little and lets out a slow breath, she looks up at Tek again.]

You expect that to be the end of this, don't you?

I don't expect anything.

[which is only a simplified, skewed version of the truth. he does wait, however, sitting back patiently in his seat to see where it will go.]

[That causes her eyes to narrow at him, but not for the reason he may think.]

You must think I'm stupid if you expect me to believe that. Do you honestly think I wouldn't recognize this as a test? You chose to show me that only after I told you I wouldn't let you go.

It was a demonstration. [--voice already sharpening a little, to match her narrowing eyes.]

I wasn't about to let you make a statement like that without knowing exactly what you were speaking to.

So you were doing it for my benefit and not at all to see exactly how much I'm willing to put up with.

[The last thing Jove is in the mood for is this, some test of her loyalty when her heart is still so raw from losing so many people in such a short amount of time. She watches him for just a moment longer, but then she stands and reaches for her tea.]

I meant what I said. If you expect that to change immediately I don't know what to tell you.

[When she turns away from him, there's no coldness to it, no rejection, just the slumped shoulders of someone who just wants to clear away the dishes they've dirtied so they can go to sleep.]

[he sits there for a moment as she begins to clear the cups away, a finger rapping twice on the table as he deliberates. he fights a few conflicting things that bubble up, along with a stark lack of satisfaction. how can she turn away like that when he feels ready to chew something apart?]

That's it?

[his voice is no longer sharp, but it is expectant.]

[She doesn't turn back to him. She doesn't even answer him right away, but when she does she just sounds tired.]

You consider yourself a monster, I don't think I can change that. You've done terrible things and I can't change that either. I can't even tell you I'm sorry for all the human lives you ended, because I'm not. I don't know what you want from me, Tek.

[he drums his fingers one more time, and then just lets his hand lie still on the table, along with his gaze.

he probably should have had a reply for that, but he remains quiet, while she puts the cups away.

if he has something to say, somewhere in there, he keeps it to himself for now.]

[The silence doesn't escape her, but that's just one more thing she can't do anything about. She knows better than trying to force answers from Tek of all people, so if he wants to just sit there quietly she's not going to fight it. Once she's finished cleaning up one mess, she turns back to him and leans against the counter, hands resting lightly along the edge of it.

And she just observes him, looking at his face and the hands that have stopped their tapping, at his posture. She thinks he's just as tired as she is, that he's just as lonely.]

What do you want, Tek?

[It's possible she's asking him what he needs, too, but it's up to him whether he cares to be honest enough with her to answer either question.]

[he doesn't lift his eyes, or even blink, where he's gazing wearily through the table.

and that question is a vast, complicated one. so, it takes him some time to finally narrow down to a point that fits. and it isn't something that he would normally breathe life into with words, but the question is pressing down on him heavily enough.

maybe he's been wrung out enough lately to lose the strength to bother fighting with.]

Maybe... I just want to know why.

[It may be hard for him to ask, but it's an easy question for her to answer.]

There's not only one reason, I hope you realize that. It's because I've come to care for you in the time I've been here, and because I'm lonely and I don't want to be anymore. It's because I killed you when I had no idea what you really were and the fact that even though I've seen what you just showed me, I would never do it again.

Honestly, there's also a part of me that wants to love you even though you're trying to make me hate the things you've done. I suppose I'm just that stubborn.

[She leaves the kitchen counter now, finally, to come back to the table and to him. She'd touched his face before and she does again now, with her left hand, the one that's killing her, and she makes him look at her.]

Mostly it's because I don't think anyone has told you that you matter to them in a very long time and I refuse to let that stand.

[too many things strike him all at once. between the things that he never wants to hear pointed out in the open, and the touch on his face that he'd barely tolerated the first time, the scales that were leaning precariously in her favor before suddenly crash in the other direction.

he snatches her hand away from his face in an unkind grip, and shoots her with a snarl and critically serious glare.

some important line had definitely been crossed in there somewhere.]

You are a very foolish woman.

[It hurts, of course, but so did the burn and his grasp on her gets about the same reaction. She flinches, frowns faintly.

She stares right back at him, unconcerned with the grip he's got on her hand. If she needs to stop him she has enough magic at hand to do it easily.]

Should I have lied? Refused to answer?

It wouldn't change your stupidity.

[because, in his mind, she's just as faulted for feeling these things in the first place as she is for sharing them out loud. so, whether she'd said anything about it or not, he still thinks she's an idiot for it. and that might never change.

but he lets her go, since the reaction had been more of an automatic, defensive thing than anything he'd put thought into. he's been stabbed and picked at enough to want to deal with it anymore.]

And that's not an answer, and I still don't know what you want from me.

[She was tired before this, but his attitude, the adrenaline that rushed through her when she thought there might be an attack coming her way, it's drained her entirely. Her tongue is sharper than it would be with anyone else, but she doubts he'll even notice.]

What did you really think I would say? You aren't stupid and you think you know me so well, so you should have seen that coming a mile away.

[And she wants to know why he won't let her touch him that way when he's not been shy about wanting to sleep with her, but she isn't about to ask that now. It's a question that digs into the back of her mind, though, something she won't be forgetting.]

Do you want me to hate you? Would you prefer I demand you never speak to me again?

[he does notice her sharpening attitude, but it's much more comfortable than the affection that had pushed him over the edge. it's relieving to hear her venting frustration. not that he sounds reassured by anything at the moment, however.]

It would make more sense, at any rate.

[which, again, is not much of an answer.]

Well that's out, since you're convinced I'm an idiot. Try again.

[She doesn't cross her arms over her chest, but she might as well. That's about the level they're getting to now.]

I just don't understand why someone with sense would recognize and escape something malicious, but you blithely hang onto it.

[however, he doesn't actually want to hear more of her reasons. the first round had been more than enough, and he's already working hard to forget he'd heard them at all. he also doesn't want to be reminded of the event that had first caused his frustration, long before this conversation. so, he lifts his hand a little--more to wave the whole subject aside than to cut her off from speaking.]

--I don't want to fight, though. I honestly don't.

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