A shared experience that we have both chosen to acknowledge and allow to bring us together. All too easily can such a thing drive individuals apart, cleaving whatever bonds may have remained after all has been said and done. That to the end, you and I have both refused to give up our ideals. It is therefore important to note that your choice matters.
We both have chosen love.
[The coffee is grounding in his hands. Though he is far from wallowing in what had happened to him, there is much that underpins what he does even now. He throws himself into action, remains busy, he meddles because he must. So much action and planning for so long has left him bereft of the ability to truly sit and do nothing, even after the time he'd spent in the Simulation.
Even now he awakens before the dawn draws its' first breath from dreams turned all too easily to nightmares. No doubt what troubles him mirrors Emet-Selch's own only to a point - what he had additionally gone through was rather singular, after all - but there was enough similarities for him to understand.
Still. Now that Emet-Selch's anger, at least, has reduced marginally. Themis feels one side of his lips quirk upwards.]
I do believe that I have stated my intentions quite readily. I am here to hear you out. To be here for you. It is made more difficult, seeing as you have banned me from speaking on the topic at hand that has brought you to this state, but I will persevere regardless. Rather than know you swallow your feelings on the matter, to know you bottle them, I would hear them. Hear you.
You have my word that whatever is said will remain between us.
You needn't make it sound so painfully dramatic. But yes, had I allowed such events to wrest away that which I had been seeking to preserve, then what point would there have been at all? Emet-Selch or no, my life's purpose is theirs. I could never so easily let them go...
[But that is their people, their world. And another matter entirely. Although he can see where it links, certainly. Was that not what Byleth had been trying to do in his way? As spectacularly dreadful as the attempt may have been.]
[Emet-Selch stares into his mug, his eyes stormy as he allows the residual warmth to soak into his fingers. It doesn't help much, but it's something, at least. No one is here but them, and Hythlodaeus upstairs, perhaps. It's not as if there are any eavesdroppers waiting in the wings to use his own words against him.]
[He huffs out a sigh. While he could speak in riddles and metaphors, he is far too weary at the moment for that. Still too agitated and riled up. And so he will speak plainly so as to get this whole discussion over with.]
As I said, I am well aware that the actions and choices of the other Emet-Selch have naught to do with me, and have told Byleth as much. And yet they now affect me all the same. Whether I act on them or no, whether I deign to believe them, the account can never be unheard.
I feel...dissected. Exposed, like some novel specimen displayed under glass.
[He shakes his head in disgust.]
To think that after only a scant few years of knowing someone, I would grant them not only my true name, but personal details about myself, thoughts and emotions that I have not revealed to another soul - not to you nor Hythlodaeus. The very idea is preposterous.
[And, what? Some manner of oath? To remain at his side until he grew weary and tired of immortality and chose to return to his own star? To be granted a peaceful end? It is all simply...unfathomable. Emet-Selch is scowling again hard, his forehead aching with the weight of it - an act certainly not helped by the hard bone just beginning to protrude from where his bangs have been brushed back.]
He all but implored me to speak with you following our conversation.
[Well, it wasn't a conversation so much as it was a torrent of information and his own childish outburst, but.]
[Emet-Selch sighs again, this one long and exhausted and distinctly...uneasy.]
[Themis knows that Emet-Selch would reject any amount of touch at this present moment outright. He aches to comfort the other man in a more physical way, but that is not what he needs. Touch is something rare, something coveted when it occurs, and so rather than make contact he decides to show his support in another way.
One hand continues to curl around his mug, while the other slides across the table and remains palm-down. It is not an ask, nor is it an offer. It merely is.
A physical representation of his words to follow.]
He was right to do so. There is a single fact that you have overlooked, one which will reorganize and refocus the entirety of what has happened.
[He takes another long sip of the coffee. When he finishes, his voice grows resolute. Firm, direct, a voice of reason.]
You did none of those things. You have revealed nothing, and your secrets remain yours. The individual that was present within the Simulation was a version of Emet-Selch, Redeemer of the Convocation of Fourteen, but he was not you. The individual named Hythlodaeus that was present was not the same Hythlodaeus that has arrived in this world. The grand design of their lives was much the same as his and yours, yes, but the differences between the two of you are vital. What intimacies shared between you may not apply to you at all.
[Themis makes eye contact. His are clear, beseeching Emet-Selch - Hades - to take heed of what he says.]
Byleth pointed you to come to me because I experienced everything in that place. As you have said yourself, I know you better than almost any other. I knew you when I had lost my own name, when I had lost everything but a duty to a people I could not recall. So know, that when I say you are not him I mean it with all of me.
[One side of his lips quirk up into an aborted smile. It is not a happy smile. There is the faintest tremor in his voice when he speaks next.]
Did you know that he barely spoke to me? I loved him, as I love you, and instead of your fond acknowledgement he barely gave me the time of day. And Hythlodaeus? I do not believe he spoke more than a dozen words to me during the entirety of the years we spent within that place. We lived within the same household, and still it was thus. They wore your faces, endured your histories, but they were not you.
[He closes his eyes and takes a breath. His shoulders shake, ever so slightly. Never had he acknowledged out loud how it had troubled him so, so very much. How those so dear to him could be so cold. But this is not about him.
The feel of the mug and the table is grounding. He steadies. His eyes open again, and once more they meet with Emet-Selch's familiar golden. The traces of old hurt have been washed away once more. Themis knows that he was not at fault.]
Byleth knows that you are not him. He will not reveal anything he has remembered to anyone who does not already know. He may seek out your friendship because he knows it to be worthwhile, if you are open to such a thing. But he will not push for what he has not earned. Just as he has not attempted to do so with me, despite my having a very real history with the one whose memories he has lived.
[He has to stop himself from continuing. Let Emet-Selch absorb what he had said.]
[Themis is correct. Although Emet-Selch's head lifts just enough to indicate that he has noticed and is aware of the hand now stretched across the table, he makes no move to either take it nor brush it aside. He simply allows it - and the sentiment which inspired the act - to persist.]
[But as Themis's voice grows firm, Emet-Selch sits up straighter to listen, and meets his beseeching gaze. He has half a mind to argue against the point being made - after all he knows he did none of these things, that this other Emet-Selch's actions are no responsibility of his, that he is not beholden to the same course, the same friends, nor aught else he may have been working towards. He has told Themis this before, and several others the very same... But what proves most profound, in this moment, is hearing the ways in which they differ. Rather than a list of things they share, things which sound fantastic and highly unlikely but also somehow plausible, he and this other have now been painted in distinct contrast to one another.]
[And his brother's voice trembles. Emet-Selch's brow wrinkles at that and his attention returns to the table as Themis steadies himself again, his jaw twitching.]
[He has been distant and dismissive, surely. There have been moments where he wished not to be bothered, where he feigned disinterest, when the weight of everything became suffocating - but to go about his day-to-day as if one of his own scarcely existed at all... anger flares deep within his breast. Although Themis is displaying grace about it all, his pain at the rejection is amply clear.]
Sounds like a real genial soul, this man, who lacked the courtesy of even a few simple words to those who shared his abode.
[There's much more he could say, but perhaps more importantly the swirl of thoughts and agitation are beginning to sort themselves out, to settle into something manageable. Not that the agitation is abating, precisely, but there is no question that his friend here speaks the truth. It's with a certain levity that Emet-Selch lays his own arm flat across the other side of the table, clearly nowhere near the other, but a matching gesture all the same. He offers his companion a pointed look.]
Fortunately, I've grown used to your overachieving nature as well as your fervent (and ofttimes embarrassing) declarations of love and goodwill. Whatever lingering concerns you may hold about that, you may safely put from your mind.
As for Byleth... do not expect me to go easy on him if he finds that he cannot hold his tongue. While he has thus far proven to be an inoffensive if inquisitive sort, he does not seem to know when it is appropriate to cease speaking.
But the man's efforts are hardly meant to be cruel, as I'm certain you will agree.
[Hythlodaeus's tone remains light as ever as he descends the stairs, but there is a tiredness to his eyes and a weakness to his smile that betrays the truth of his thoughts as of late--an unceasing and relentless storm of anxious confusion that has yet to abate.]
My apologies. While it was not my intent to eavesdrop, I couldn't help but overhear.
[A knot of coiled tension that Themis not been aware of releases as Emet-Selch speaks, as he responds to what he has to say. It slides down his spine and slips free, leaving him suffused with warmth and feeling slightly boneless - slightly listless. The mirrored reach of his hand causes his eyes to burn.
But tears do not fall. No, it is happiness that fills him fit to burst.
He had not been concerned, not really. But now he knew to never entertain the idea at all. Themis would always be himself, this was an aspect he had learned to embrace fully, that he would not change who he was - and to know that it would be accepted fully? Regardless of the slight put-upon tone - a farce, he knew - it sufficed him with so much joy. That he could express himself and extend his hand and have it grasped in turn.
A nod is his response to Emet-Selch's words about Byleth. It is a reasonable conclusion to make.]
He reminds me of our mutual friend in that way-
[Then Hythlodaeus makes himself known, and Themis straightens in his chair. He had known it was a possibility that the man could have been home, but to have that confirmed - and there is the confirmation that he had heard all that Themis had said to Emet-Selch. Well.
He did not hold himself back from Hades, nor would he do so with his other friend.]
No, his intentions and actions are only for the well-being of others, I assure you. Though, perhaps clumsily done. I would forgive such things considering the confusion and chaos his mind must have been thrown into.
[With a last lingering look towards Emet-Selch, Themis turns now towards Hythlodaeus.
Stands. Closes the distance between them.
And pulls his friend into a supportive, warm embrace. He had missed him oh, so very much, those memories of cold reception cannot touch Themis in this moment.]
What I had offered Emet-Selch, I offer now to you, my dearest friend. Whatever you may need, I am here for you.
[Oh, of course... Emet-Selch lets out a sigh, but cannot find it within himself to be surprised. After all, he's made little effort to be discreet about his recent temper, and Hythlodaeus surely would have heard - if not seen - the two of them having a conversation in their kitchen. He glances up, taking in the distinct...weariness upon Hythlodaeus's visage despite his usual agreeable delivery.]
I was beginning to wonder when you might make your appearance. Let me guess. He gave you an earful as well.
[He makes to rise, vacating his chair to prepare a third cup of coffee, and perhaps enough excess to refill the others, his gaze returning to Themis.]
And perhaps. Odd, but hardly cruel. He seemed quite intent on breaking bread with me at the festival. I can only assume this was before the...pond incident. Even went back to bring me a straw of his own volition.
[He says it all with a certain dismissiveness, but anyone who knows him well (as they both do) can no doubt parse that the fact Emet-Selch has made note of these things means that they left an impression upon him in the first place.]
[In the meantime, he will grant his friends their moment. No doubt they could both benefit from the warmth of a friendly embrace. And when they are finished, should Hythlodaeus choose to slide into the chair he only just vacated, he will find that it's still warm. Emet-Selch can always pull up another.]
[Hythlodaeus cannot help but startle at the sudden display of affection--a rarity among their people, to put it lightly. And yet...
And yet it is a welcome one, a steadying presence in the swirling seas of his mind. As he had done with the whole of them when they all were yet one. The blessing and the curse that only they two know.]
Dearest friend... And here I thought that might be Ericthonios.
[A little levity, a gift, and a hand on his shoulder to know that he is appreciated.]
I've heard my share from the man, though 'tis not wholly his words that have given me pause.
[He glances down at Elidibus--Themis--and then to Hades in the kitchen, and... hesitates. Hades knows his worries well, for they had spoken of them some time ago. But Themis... Would this serve only to bring up old wounds?
The waters should be tested first, he decides, and he turns his gaze back to Themis, ever gauging his reactions.]
I'm still attempting to grow used to all of this, I suppose. While I've never been one to shy away from new experiences, this talk of dragons and other worlds and other selves still comes a greater shock than I expected.
And here I thought I was your dearest friend, Themis.
[He interjects from the kitchen, though there's the barest hint of amusement in his cadence as he continues his work with far more measured motions than he employed earlier. A little extra levity, and perhaps silent acknowledgment that though he will not interrupt them unnecessarily, he's still paying keen attention.]
[When Themis pulls from Hythlodaeus's reach the look he shoots at Emet-Selch is almost a perfect replica of one that may be found on the other's face. So, too, is the exaggerated sigh he heaves, fully put-upon as he slides back into the chair he'd vacated. The way his eyes practically glitter show his true feelings - the mirth that he's holding within his breast, the affection and amusement that run thick.
Then he quirks a brow up, looking between the two of them.]
Though if we are to question the titles of 'dearest friend,' I must point out the glaring hypocrisy of maintaining it between the two of you as well as our own mutual friend of Azem. If, of course, we are to consider that an individual may only be possessed of one such friend - which is a belief I do not aspire to hold.
[He winks.]
If we are to be exact, Erichthonios would be my dearest fiancé amongst other things.
[While he does not sober, Themis's features settle in to an easy smile. This feels good. Feels right. But he did catch on to Hythlodaeus's testing of the waters.
Though not entirely sure of the exact nature of the man's thoughts he knows how to cast his net wide. He had far more time than the two of them to come to terms with the idea of choices made and not, of separate existences.]
I suspect that it would be shock indeed. It was partially due to the nature of my previous location - the one Byleth speaks of - that allowed me an easier time of it. Though I must admit living in a physical form and being free from emotional and mental manipulation is far preferable.
[Hythlodaeus hides his amusement behind his hand, shoulders shaking.]
A judgment only fitting of the esteemed Elidibus himself. I shall endeavor to be more specific in the future. My dearest, adventurous friend and my dearest, dourest friend, mayhap?
I will need some time for yourself, of course. My dearest, most engaged friend will only be fitting for so long.
[His smile comes easier, yet falters by the end of Themis's short explanation of his previous circumstances.]
...Aye, I imagine it would be.
['Tis little wonder he's adjusted to all this so much easier than Hythlodaeus has.]
[A dismayed exclamation can be heard from the kitchen as Emet-Selch is fixed with that look that so mirrors his own, all bluster and mock offense. For an old man, Elidibus, you certainly are a cheeky devil! But he will let this one slide, seeing as it has managed to set his first friend to giggling openly.]
[He grumbles audibly, making sure the both of them can make out what he says next, even if it's a blatant misrepresentation of how he truly feels.]
The entire lot of you are utterly and unendingly incorrigible! If only I could determine which of you is more so and whom among you is the most tolerable thorn in my side.
[Dourest friend, indeed!]
[It's as Hythlodaeus falls quiet again that Emet-Selch returns, placing a freshly steaming mug upon the table nearest him and seating himself at another edge of the table between the two. This time he has also returned with a pot of the remaining coffee. Any cream or milk will simply have to be requested.]
Indeed. Despite the general unpleasantness of our draconic transformations, what we have remains our own. Now is the time to determine what role it is we wish to play within the grand scheme of things and to discover what we can - so that we are all prepared for whatever lies ahead.
[While he had respected Emet-Selch's need for him to not make physical contact, it is clear that Hythlodaeus is nothing of that same sort. Themis pours himself more coffee and slides the pot over towards the other two. A long sip does much to warm him physically to match the way his friends have done so emotionally, taking it black this time. The bitterness is bracing, and does him good.
Then, he reaches his free hand out to rest it upon Hythlodaeus's arm. His fingers curl gently, to support and ground.]
I could perhaps be your dearest, shortest friend?
[He grins as he says it, taking the easy joke at his own expense for what it is. Slight pressure with his fingertips follow.]
Emet-Selch is correct in his statements. But it is important to recognize that none of us are alone in this. You are yourselves, none other, and you are not alone. Whatever it is you may need, I am here for you. I will be here for you. However you decide that support may be, whatever you need, I will see it through.
Edited (forgot an entire sentence) 2024-11-23 07:28 (UTC)
[Both Hades and Themis's quips bring another laugh to his lips. It warms him, chases away that pit in his stomach for a time. And even when it returns, it is lighter than it was before. Something that seems surmountable, if still terribly daunting.]
You are not wrong. And I truly am blessed for your presence--for both your presence. And the presence of still more. Though...
[He summons a small carafe of cream and a bowl of sugar with the wave of his hand and sets about to pouring himself a cup of coffee.]
Emet-Selch is somewhat closer to the mark with my worries, I confess--mayhap because 'tis a subject we have already discussed. Or... "touched on," I suppose would be more accurate. Byleth's account was a shocking one, yes, but 'twas the man's reaction to it all that left more a mark.
[He finishes stirring in the sugar and sets the spoon to the side, then takes the cup in hand, clinging to it like a lifeline.]
"I don't know where I end and the other Byleth begins," the man said. A... familiar feeling for Themis and myself both, I imagine.
[Emet-Selch, for his part, has settled into a comfortable but attentive silence, content to listen and watch as the other two speak. While he still has much to think about, yes, any lingering uncertainties he harbors with regard to the Byleth situation are trivial at best. Yet as for this new direction... Emet-Selch pauses as he lowers his mug. He'll put a pin in this for later, for the next time he and the professor come face-to-face, but-]
[Something the two of them can relate to, hmn?]
[He frowns, feeling the hollow chill of an old, unrelenting ache that threatens to creep back into his heart despite the fortifying warmth of strong coffee and familiar company.]
This isn't solely about the dragons, is it? You refer to your time within Zodiark, or so I assume.
Aye. Though given that this may be somewhat of a diversion to the topic at hand--and that I am an intruder to your conversation, purposefully or no--I would be more than understanding should you prefer to avoid such concerns. 'Tis hardly any trouble.
Did you require a written invitation? I'd have thought the tender embrace would have served to alleviate any doubts you had about whether you are welcome in our kitchen.
[Emet-Selch sighs heavily.]
Besides, what is a conversation if not a series of diversions strung together and debated between friends?
Your concerns are just as valid as mine are, if not more so. And I will be the first to assure you that Themis here is not about to take his leave now that you have presented them. That's why he has let himself in, after all.
[He glances across the table at Themis. Clearly he's far more equipped to address Hythlodaeus's concerns than he is.]
Though if you would prefer that I grant the two of you some privacy...
[He doesn't intend to leave, but the offer is there if Hythlodaeus will feel more comfortable discussing such things in private with another who has experienced them. Rare is it for Hythlodaeus to admit that he is troubled, and Emet-Selch would prefer that he have the opportunity to air his concerns one way or another, even if he doesn't get to be a part of that process.]
[The floor comes to him, as it so often has in the past. He finds himself brought back to golden walls and a circle of chairs adorned with friends. Though the name used is different, how often has Emet-Selch passed discussion to him in that warm, welcoming place? It's far too easy to draw the parallels now.
Warm coffee. Good friends. A home shared.
That cold time where he was both alone and made many is easier to stave off, now, when he is so close to those he loves. He knows that of which Hythlodaeus speaks all too well. Their situations and experiences were markedly different but ultimately came to the same conclusion.
The loss of the self.
When he speaks it's with a laugh in his voice and fondness in his eyes.]
You both are so alike, offering to leave so readily in order to spare the other. I, for one, would speak with you both here. It will bring no further harm to my psyche to speak on my experience with friends - my dreams do that well enough.
[Memories mixed with dreams. A foreign face where his should be in the mirror - but when he attempts to remember his own, it slips through his fingers. People whose identity catches in his throat, leaving him only with the idea that he loves them enough to keep going. One foot after the other, shedding himself piece by piece. For love.
He shakes his head and turns towards Hythlodaeus.]
The path I walked is no doubt different from your own, thrust to the fore as I was. My awareness was ceaseless in that I lacked any capacity to lose sight of what we had given of ourselves to achieve. But in that clarity, I was ever aware of each and every voice that had joined with mine, a choir made of the initial sacrifice as well as the subsequent joining. It was...
[He trails off, looking over now towards Emet-Selch.]
[Elidibus is not wrong, but truth be told, Hythlodaeus had wondered if he need spare Elidibus as well. He had slept those 12,000 years away, but Themis... Both time and the Many had taken much from him leading up to his death.
He would have understood completely if Elidibus had preferred to leave such things behind, to open those wounds up another day, if ever again.
But still he speaks, and Hythlodaeus inclines his head as he listens, the edge of his cup hovering near his lips, the heat and scent grounding him to this world even as Elidibus's world brings him back to their own.]
...Indeed. Though nowhere near the extent that you must have felt, I... I too remember the edges of my "self" fraying. Wholly myself at one moment, and one amongst the mourning many the next. My hope, their grief, and a thousand, thousand wishes besides...
That you managed to cling to aught of yourself for any period of time after is nothing short of astounding.
['Alike...?? he wonders to himself. 'Spare the other?']
[Well, perhaps.]
[Emet-Selch meets that steady blue gaze, but for the moment, he says nothing. After all, his experiences, too, are markedly different. Where they had feared losing themselves, he instead had been left to watch as those around him began to wane, piece by piece chipping away until naught but duty remained.]
[His had been the burden of remembering. Family, friends, loved ones, names and faces all... as they began to slip from Lahabrea and Elidibus's grasp, Emet-Selch had taken the burden upon his own shoulders. His nightmare had been the heavy, ceaseless plod of time, the fear of failure, cracking beneath the weight of such precious cargo; losing them. Losing everything where those he held dear already had. And oh he had mourned each minute detail as it sifted through his fingers, his vision a final bastion for them all. He had held the hopes and the dreams, and the despairs of many, empowered by the fallen souls of their people.]
[Like them, he too had felt a pull urging him ever forward, bound by duty and cognizant of Zodiark's will. But not quite in the way they describe. This choir of which they speak he will never know as intimately as they do. To him, that song is synonymous with the voice of their Dark Lord.]
It wore thin, after a time, the walls between ourselves and those that clamored beside us. So long of hearing their voices it is no wonder that it was difficult to discern my own. Had it been but a few, I believe I would have been able to hold fast to the rest of me, but with so many? The outcome was certain from the start. But my ability to last as long as I did is not so strange, when one considers who I am. Who I have always been.
[The intensity some had teased him for. That eagerness and sincerity in everything he did. The way he loved so thoroughly and deeply that he never knew what to do with himself, turbulent oceans beneath a placid surface. It had saved him, in the end.
His fingers press gently into Hythlodaeus's arm, a comfort for the both of them.]
Some part of me is glad that I may share in the experience with another. That we may draw strength and support from that which we both understand - though in the same breath I wish you be free of it.
[Never would he wish for his own comfort at the detriment to another. If he could take the memories and pain from his friend and suffer alone, he would do it in an instant. Better that he can't.
His free hand slides across the table towards Emet-Selch in a familiar motion, leaving it there. He sees you, Hades. He refuses to let you suffer in silence.]
But we remain. Our experiences have changed us, yes, but I believe that down to your core you remain yourself. Think back to the man you were when you stumbled upon me at the Capital, daydreaming about the events of Pandaemonium. The man you were whilst you adventured in Elpis. Would you, now, make any choices different to those he would have made?
[He holds tight to the sensation, grounding as it is, and takes a moment to mull the question over. It isn't an easy one to answer--far from it. With every recollection comes every regret, the steps he could have taken if he knew this or that, and the possible futures that could have come up as a result of those choices besides.]
...Nay. I don't believe I would.
[He isn't wholly certain of that fact, but neither does he believe it possible to be certain.]
Regardless of what occurred, all that I did, I did in the belief that I might provide the path to a brighter future for those that I love. And while it may not have happened the way I intended, in the end, that did come to pass.
[A beautiful star brimming with possibility for those who came after.]
[Again Emet-Selch acknowledges the offering with a glance, yet he does not move to take it. Perhaps he can do one better after this discussion comes to an end, but for now he simply crosses his arms. He doesn't seem angry exactly, nor does he seem particularly upset. Merely thinking, considering their words.]
[Well. Perhaps it is better that such a question was not posed of him. Unlike Hythlodaeus, his answer is not so charitable. He is the same man, yes, but in many ways he is forever changed. Oh, his convictions remain ever true, but the eons have afforded him much to ponder, much to weep over and regret, challenged his sense of morality and what is good and just and necessary in such a way that even he was surprised at the results. The Emet-Selch who had implored Hythlodaeus journey with him to Elpis in search of Hermes and the Emet-Selch who dutifully stood outside the counsel hall an hour early each and every morning could not have fathomed what had come to pass nor the many things he had wrought with his own hands. How can he say that his choices would be the very same with the knowledge he now wields?]
[But that is his own burden to bear. The question of whether he would do it all again in exactly the same manner one for himself to uncover. At least, he thinks, there is now one choice he cannot make the mistake of wresting from another's grasp.]
I expected as much, coming from you.
[Back then, even as he had pleaded, he knew. Whilst skirting around doing the unconscionable thing and disregarding the Convocation's own directive, Emet-Selch had sought to appeal to his friend; to change his mind. But Hythlodaeus's answer would remained been the same irregardless. Selfless to the very end and so full of faith.]
In the end, we each followed the path we deemed necessary. Who can truly say what may have occurred had our choices erred? Whether the resulting world would have been better or worse for it, whether the day would have been won or lost, or if we might have ended up exactly as we are now. Our choices are our own, yet the course of our star is a complex weave.
At least we have arrived at a conclusion we can live with - such as it is. One in which you are yourselves and no one else, with a whole new procession of choices to make on your own behalves.
[It is a conclusion Themis had needed to make on his own. Had done so, during those last events of Pandaemonium, spurred on though he was by Athena's meddling. But he meant what he had said to their friend, their Hero - he was not burdened by regrets. How could he? When their goal had been realized. In a way that was not, perhaps, their original aim.
Hythlodaeus was correct. And so was Emet-Selch.]
Exactly, my dearest Emet-Selch. No matter the choices of others in differing realities, of experiences that blended the line between us and another, we are yet ourselves. Changed, yes. But change is not a thing to necessarily fear.
[He smiles, warm and bright. The air around him seems lighter, somehow, despite the sharing of burdens. As if a weight has lifted off. Arms pulling back, he takes his coffee with both hands and takes a long sip of the still-warm drink. The warmth that he feels within has nothing to do with the beverage he's drinking.
It's written all over his face. In his eyes.]
Thank you, both of you, for allowing me to be here and speak with you. To accept what I may give. It is all too tempting to withdraw and deal with one's troubles alone, to not burden others with the weight of what you have endured. A singular failing, I admit, that I myself am not immune to.
[A shrug is given at the admission. Themis has been better lately at it, but he will recognize his own faults.]
It is my hope that your troubles have been eased, if only by the smallest of fractions.
While I cannot speak for Emet-Selch, for myself they have indeed--and by more than a fraction at that.
[Not wholly, for some sense of unease will always remain until he grows used to that unfamiliar hue attached to his own, but it does not seem nearly so daunting now.
If Elidibus, he who was nearly swallowed by His and Their expectations can remain steadfast and even positive in a time like this, he himself cannot help but feel positive towards their futures as well.]
Though for all the thanks you give to us, I feel as though I should be the one extending them to you. As ever, you have proven yourself to be nothing short of an exemplary Emissary.
[And with the slightest twitch of the corners of his lips...]
Why, I would go so far as to say that Emet-Selch's brow may go uncreased for a full bell even after your departure.
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We both have chosen love.
[The coffee is grounding in his hands. Though he is far from wallowing in what had happened to him, there is much that underpins what he does even now. He throws himself into action, remains busy, he meddles because he must. So much action and planning for so long has left him bereft of the ability to truly sit and do nothing, even after the time he'd spent in the Simulation.
Even now he awakens before the dawn draws its' first breath from dreams turned all too easily to nightmares. No doubt what troubles him mirrors Emet-Selch's own only to a point - what he had additionally gone through was rather singular, after all - but there was enough similarities for him to understand.
Still. Now that Emet-Selch's anger, at least, has reduced marginally. Themis feels one side of his lips quirk upwards.]
I do believe that I have stated my intentions quite readily. I am here to hear you out. To be here for you. It is made more difficult, seeing as you have banned me from speaking on the topic at hand that has brought you to this state, but I will persevere regardless. Rather than know you swallow your feelings on the matter, to know you bottle them, I would hear them. Hear you.
You have my word that whatever is said will remain between us.
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[But that is their people, their world. And another matter entirely. Although he can see where it links, certainly. Was that not what Byleth had been trying to do in his way? As spectacularly dreadful as the attempt may have been.]
[Emet-Selch stares into his mug, his eyes stormy as he allows the residual warmth to soak into his fingers. It doesn't help much, but it's something, at least. No one is here but them, and Hythlodaeus upstairs, perhaps. It's not as if there are any eavesdroppers waiting in the wings to use his own words against him.]
[He huffs out a sigh. While he could speak in riddles and metaphors, he is far too weary at the moment for that. Still too agitated and riled up. And so he will speak plainly so as to get this whole discussion over with.]
As I said, I am well aware that the actions and choices of the other Emet-Selch have naught to do with me, and have told Byleth as much. And yet they now affect me all the same. Whether I act on them or no, whether I deign to believe them, the account can never be unheard.
I feel...dissected. Exposed, like some novel specimen displayed under glass.
[He shakes his head in disgust.]
To think that after only a scant few years of knowing someone, I would grant them not only my true name, but personal details about myself, thoughts and emotions that I have not revealed to another soul - not to you nor Hythlodaeus. The very idea is preposterous.
[And, what? Some manner of oath? To remain at his side until he grew weary and tired of immortality and chose to return to his own star? To be granted a peaceful end? It is all simply...unfathomable. Emet-Selch is scowling again hard, his forehead aching with the weight of it - an act certainly not helped by the hard bone just beginning to protrude from where his bangs have been brushed back.]
He all but implored me to speak with you following our conversation.
[Well, it wasn't a conversation so much as it was a torrent of information and his own childish outburst, but.]
[Emet-Selch sighs again, this one long and exhausted and distinctly...uneasy.]
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One hand continues to curl around his mug, while the other slides across the table and remains palm-down. It is not an ask, nor is it an offer. It merely is.
A physical representation of his words to follow.]
He was right to do so. There is a single fact that you have overlooked, one which will reorganize and refocus the entirety of what has happened.
[He takes another long sip of the coffee. When he finishes, his voice grows resolute. Firm, direct, a voice of reason.]
You did none of those things. You have revealed nothing, and your secrets remain yours. The individual that was present within the Simulation was a version of Emet-Selch, Redeemer of the Convocation of Fourteen, but he was not you. The individual named Hythlodaeus that was present was not the same Hythlodaeus that has arrived in this world. The grand design of their lives was much the same as his and yours, yes, but the differences between the two of you are vital. What intimacies shared between you may not apply to you at all.
[Themis makes eye contact. His are clear, beseeching Emet-Selch - Hades - to take heed of what he says.]
Byleth pointed you to come to me because I experienced everything in that place. As you have said yourself, I know you better than almost any other. I knew you when I had lost my own name, when I had lost everything but a duty to a people I could not recall. So know, that when I say you are not him I mean it with all of me.
[One side of his lips quirk up into an aborted smile. It is not a happy smile. There is the faintest tremor in his voice when he speaks next.]
Did you know that he barely spoke to me? I loved him, as I love you, and instead of your fond acknowledgement he barely gave me the time of day. And Hythlodaeus? I do not believe he spoke more than a dozen words to me during the entirety of the years we spent within that place. We lived within the same household, and still it was thus. They wore your faces, endured your histories, but they were not you.
[He closes his eyes and takes a breath. His shoulders shake, ever so slightly. Never had he acknowledged out loud how it had troubled him so, so very much. How those so dear to him could be so cold. But this is not about him.
The feel of the mug and the table is grounding. He steadies. His eyes open again, and once more they meet with Emet-Selch's familiar golden. The traces of old hurt have been washed away once more. Themis knows that he was not at fault.]
Byleth knows that you are not him. He will not reveal anything he has remembered to anyone who does not already know. He may seek out your friendship because he knows it to be worthwhile, if you are open to such a thing. But he will not push for what he has not earned. Just as he has not attempted to do so with me, despite my having a very real history with the one whose memories he has lived.
[He has to stop himself from continuing. Let Emet-Selch absorb what he had said.]
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[But as Themis's voice grows firm, Emet-Selch sits up straighter to listen, and meets his beseeching gaze. He has half a mind to argue against the point being made - after all he knows he did none of these things, that this other Emet-Selch's actions are no responsibility of his, that he is not beholden to the same course, the same friends, nor aught else he may have been working towards. He has told Themis this before, and several others the very same... But what proves most profound, in this moment, is hearing the ways in which they differ. Rather than a list of things they share, things which sound fantastic and highly unlikely but also somehow plausible, he and this other have now been painted in distinct contrast to one another.]
[And his brother's voice trembles. Emet-Selch's brow wrinkles at that and his attention returns to the table as Themis steadies himself again, his jaw twitching.]
[He has been distant and dismissive, surely. There have been moments where he wished not to be bothered, where he feigned disinterest, when the weight of everything became suffocating - but to go about his day-to-day as if one of his own scarcely existed at all... anger flares deep within his breast. Although Themis is displaying grace about it all, his pain at the rejection is amply clear.]
Sounds like a real genial soul, this man, who lacked the courtesy of even a few simple words to those who shared his abode.
[There's much more he could say, but perhaps more importantly the swirl of thoughts and agitation are beginning to sort themselves out, to settle into something manageable. Not that the agitation is abating, precisely, but there is no question that his friend here speaks the truth. It's with a certain levity that Emet-Selch lays his own arm flat across the other side of the table, clearly nowhere near the other, but a matching gesture all the same. He offers his companion a pointed look.]
Fortunately, I've grown used to your overachieving nature as well as your fervent (and ofttimes embarrassing) declarations of love and goodwill. Whatever lingering concerns you may hold about that, you may safely put from your mind.
As for Byleth... do not expect me to go easy on him if he finds that he cannot hold his tongue. While he has thus far proven to be an inoffensive if inquisitive sort, he does not seem to know when it is appropriate to cease speaking.
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[Hythlodaeus's tone remains light as ever as he descends the stairs, but there is a tiredness to his eyes and a weakness to his smile that betrays the truth of his thoughts as of late--an unceasing and relentless storm of anxious confusion that has yet to abate.]
My apologies. While it was not my intent to eavesdrop, I couldn't help but overhear.
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But tears do not fall. No, it is happiness that fills him fit to burst.
He had not been concerned, not really. But now he knew to never entertain the idea at all. Themis would always be himself, this was an aspect he had learned to embrace fully, that he would not change who he was - and to know that it would be accepted fully? Regardless of the slight put-upon tone - a farce, he knew - it sufficed him with so much joy. That he could express himself and extend his hand and have it grasped in turn.
A nod is his response to Emet-Selch's words about Byleth. It is a reasonable conclusion to make.]
He reminds me of our mutual friend in that way-
[Then Hythlodaeus makes himself known, and Themis straightens in his chair. He had known it was a possibility that the man could have been home, but to have that confirmed - and there is the confirmation that he had heard all that Themis had said to Emet-Selch. Well.
He did not hold himself back from Hades, nor would he do so with his other friend.]
No, his intentions and actions are only for the well-being of others, I assure you. Though, perhaps clumsily done. I would forgive such things considering the confusion and chaos his mind must have been thrown into.
[With a last lingering look towards Emet-Selch, Themis turns now towards Hythlodaeus.
Stands. Closes the distance between them.
And pulls his friend into a supportive, warm embrace. He had missed him oh, so very much, those memories of cold reception cannot touch Themis in this moment.]
What I had offered Emet-Selch, I offer now to you, my dearest friend. Whatever you may need, I am here for you.
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I was beginning to wonder when you might make your appearance. Let me guess. He gave you an earful as well.
[He makes to rise, vacating his chair to prepare a third cup of coffee, and perhaps enough excess to refill the others, his gaze returning to Themis.]
And perhaps. Odd, but hardly cruel. He seemed quite intent on breaking bread with me at the festival. I can only assume this was before the...pond incident. Even went back to bring me a straw of his own volition.
[He says it all with a certain dismissiveness, but anyone who knows him well (as they both do) can no doubt parse that the fact Emet-Selch has made note of these things means that they left an impression upon him in the first place.]
[In the meantime, he will grant his friends their moment. No doubt they could both benefit from the warmth of a friendly embrace. And when they are finished, should Hythlodaeus choose to slide into the chair he only just vacated, he will find that it's still warm. Emet-Selch can always pull up another.]
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And yet it is a welcome one, a steadying presence in the swirling seas of his mind. As he had done with the whole of them when they all were yet one. The blessing and the curse that only they two know.]
Dearest friend... And here I thought that might be Ericthonios.
[A little levity, a gift, and a hand on his shoulder to know that he is appreciated.]
I've heard my share from the man, though 'tis not wholly his words that have given me pause.
[He glances down at Elidibus--Themis--and then to Hades in the kitchen, and... hesitates. Hades knows his worries well, for they had spoken of them some time ago. But Themis... Would this serve only to bring up old wounds?
The waters should be tested first, he decides, and he turns his gaze back to Themis, ever gauging his reactions.]
I'm still attempting to grow used to all of this, I suppose. While I've never been one to shy away from new experiences, this talk of dragons and other worlds and other selves still comes a greater shock than I expected.
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[He interjects from the kitchen, though there's the barest hint of amusement in his cadence as he continues his work with far more measured motions than he employed earlier. A little extra levity, and perhaps silent acknowledgment that though he will not interrupt them unnecessarily, he's still paying keen attention.]
At least that's what he told me some time ago.
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Then he quirks a brow up, looking between the two of them.]
Though if we are to question the titles of 'dearest friend,' I must point out the glaring hypocrisy of maintaining it between the two of you as well as our own mutual friend of Azem. If, of course, we are to consider that an individual may only be possessed of one such friend - which is a belief I do not aspire to hold.
[He winks.]
If we are to be exact, Erichthonios would be my dearest fiancé amongst other things.
[While he does not sober, Themis's features settle in to an easy smile. This feels good. Feels right. But he did catch on to Hythlodaeus's testing of the waters.
Though not entirely sure of the exact nature of the man's thoughts he knows how to cast his net wide. He had far more time than the two of them to come to terms with the idea of choices made and not, of separate existences.]
I suspect that it would be shock indeed. It was partially due to the nature of my previous location - the one Byleth speaks of - that allowed me an easier time of it. Though I must admit living in a physical form and being free from emotional and mental manipulation is far preferable.
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A judgment only fitting of the esteemed Elidibus himself. I shall endeavor to be more specific in the future. My dearest, adventurous friend and my dearest, dourest friend, mayhap?
I will need some time for yourself, of course. My dearest, most engaged friend will only be fitting for so long.
[His smile comes easier, yet falters by the end of Themis's short explanation of his previous circumstances.]
...Aye, I imagine it would be.
['Tis little wonder he's adjusted to all this so much easier than Hythlodaeus has.]
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[He grumbles audibly, making sure the both of them can make out what he says next, even if it's a blatant misrepresentation of how he truly feels.]
The entire lot of you are utterly and unendingly incorrigible! If only I could determine which of you is more so and whom among you is the most tolerable thorn in my side.
[Dourest friend, indeed!]
[It's as Hythlodaeus falls quiet again that Emet-Selch returns, placing a freshly steaming mug upon the table nearest him and seating himself at another edge of the table between the two. This time he has also returned with a pot of the remaining coffee. Any cream or milk will simply have to be requested.]
Indeed. Despite the general unpleasantness of our draconic transformations, what we have remains our own. Now is the time to determine what role it is we wish to play within the grand scheme of things and to discover what we can - so that we are all prepared for whatever lies ahead.
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Then, he reaches his free hand out to rest it upon Hythlodaeus's arm. His fingers curl gently, to support and ground.]
I could perhaps be your dearest, shortest friend?
[He grins as he says it, taking the easy joke at his own expense for what it is. Slight pressure with his fingertips follow.]
Emet-Selch is correct in his statements. But it is important to recognize that none of us are alone in this. You are yourselves, none other, and you are not alone. Whatever it is you may need, I am here for you. I will be here for you. However you decide that support may be, whatever you need, I will see it through.
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You are not wrong. And I truly am blessed for your presence--for both your presence. And the presence of still more. Though...
[He summons a small carafe of cream and a bowl of sugar with the wave of his hand and sets about to pouring himself a cup of coffee.]
Emet-Selch is somewhat closer to the mark with my worries, I confess--mayhap because 'tis a subject we have already discussed. Or... "touched on," I suppose would be more accurate. Byleth's account was a shocking one, yes, but 'twas the man's reaction to it all that left more a mark.
[He finishes stirring in the sugar and sets the spoon to the side, then takes the cup in hand, clinging to it like a lifeline.]
"I don't know where I end and the other Byleth begins," the man said. A... familiar feeling for Themis and myself both, I imagine.
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[Something the two of them can relate to, hmn?]
[He frowns, feeling the hollow chill of an old, unrelenting ache that threatens to creep back into his heart despite the fortifying warmth of strong coffee and familiar company.]
This isn't solely about the dragons, is it? You refer to your time within Zodiark, or so I assume.
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Aye. Though given that this may be somewhat of a diversion to the topic at hand--and that I am an intruder to your conversation, purposefully or no--I would be more than understanding should you prefer to avoid such concerns. 'Tis hardly any trouble.
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[Emet-Selch sighs heavily.]
Besides, what is a conversation if not a series of diversions strung together and debated between friends?
Your concerns are just as valid as mine are, if not more so. And I will be the first to assure you that Themis here is not about to take his leave now that you have presented them. That's why he has let himself in, after all.
[He glances across the table at Themis. Clearly he's far more equipped to address Hythlodaeus's concerns than he is.]
Though if you would prefer that I grant the two of you some privacy...
[He doesn't intend to leave, but the offer is there if Hythlodaeus will feel more comfortable discussing such things in private with another who has experienced them. Rare is it for Hythlodaeus to admit that he is troubled, and Emet-Selch would prefer that he have the opportunity to air his concerns one way or another, even if he doesn't get to be a part of that process.]
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Warm coffee. Good friends. A home shared.
That cold time where he was both alone and made many is easier to stave off, now, when he is so close to those he loves. He knows that of which Hythlodaeus speaks all too well. Their situations and experiences were markedly different but ultimately came to the same conclusion.
The loss of the self.
When he speaks it's with a laugh in his voice and fondness in his eyes.]
You both are so alike, offering to leave so readily in order to spare the other. I, for one, would speak with you both here. It will bring no further harm to my psyche to speak on my experience with friends - my dreams do that well enough.
[Memories mixed with dreams. A foreign face where his should be in the mirror - but when he attempts to remember his own, it slips through his fingers. People whose identity catches in his throat, leaving him only with the idea that he loves them enough to keep going. One foot after the other, shedding himself piece by piece. For love.
He shakes his head and turns towards Hythlodaeus.]
The path I walked is no doubt different from your own, thrust to the fore as I was. My awareness was ceaseless in that I lacked any capacity to lose sight of what we had given of ourselves to achieve. But in that clarity, I was ever aware of each and every voice that had joined with mine, a choir made of the initial sacrifice as well as the subsequent joining. It was...
[He trails off, looking over now towards Emet-Selch.]
Overwhelming.
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He would have understood completely if Elidibus had preferred to leave such things behind, to open those wounds up another day, if ever again.
But still he speaks, and Hythlodaeus inclines his head as he listens, the edge of his cup hovering near his lips, the heat and scent grounding him to this world even as Elidibus's world brings him back to their own.]
...Indeed. Though nowhere near the extent that you must have felt, I... I too remember the edges of my "self" fraying. Wholly myself at one moment, and one amongst the mourning many the next. My hope, their grief, and a thousand, thousand wishes besides...
That you managed to cling to aught of yourself for any period of time after is nothing short of astounding.
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[Well, perhaps.]
[Emet-Selch meets that steady blue gaze, but for the moment, he says nothing. After all, his experiences, too, are markedly different. Where they had feared losing themselves, he instead had been left to watch as those around him began to wane, piece by piece chipping away until naught but duty remained.]
[His had been the burden of remembering. Family, friends, loved ones, names and faces all... as they began to slip from Lahabrea and Elidibus's grasp, Emet-Selch had taken the burden upon his own shoulders. His nightmare had been the heavy, ceaseless plod of time, the fear of failure, cracking beneath the weight of such precious cargo; losing them. Losing everything where those he held dear already had. And oh he had mourned each minute detail as it sifted through his fingers, his vision a final bastion for them all. He had held the hopes and the dreams, and the despairs of many, empowered by the fallen souls of their people.]
[Like them, he too had felt a pull urging him ever forward, bound by duty and cognizant of Zodiark's will. But not quite in the way they describe. This choir of which they speak he will never know as intimately as they do. To him, that song is synonymous with the voice of their Dark Lord.]
....
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[The intensity some had teased him for. That eagerness and sincerity in everything he did. The way he loved so thoroughly and deeply that he never knew what to do with himself, turbulent oceans beneath a placid surface. It had saved him, in the end.
His fingers press gently into Hythlodaeus's arm, a comfort for the both of them.]
Some part of me is glad that I may share in the experience with another. That we may draw strength and support from that which we both understand - though in the same breath I wish you be free of it.
[Never would he wish for his own comfort at the detriment to another. If he could take the memories and pain from his friend and suffer alone, he would do it in an instant. Better that he can't.
His free hand slides across the table towards Emet-Selch in a familiar motion, leaving it there. He sees you, Hades. He refuses to let you suffer in silence.]
But we remain. Our experiences have changed us, yes, but I believe that down to your core you remain yourself. Think back to the man you were when you stumbled upon me at the Capital, daydreaming about the events of Pandaemonium. The man you were whilst you adventured in Elpis. Would you, now, make any choices different to those he would have made?
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...Nay. I don't believe I would.
[He isn't wholly certain of that fact, but neither does he believe it possible to be certain.]
Regardless of what occurred, all that I did, I did in the belief that I might provide the path to a brighter future for those that I love. And while it may not have happened the way I intended, in the end, that did come to pass.
[A beautiful star brimming with possibility for those who came after.]
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[Well. Perhaps it is better that such a question was not posed of him. Unlike Hythlodaeus, his answer is not so charitable. He is the same man, yes, but in many ways he is forever changed. Oh, his convictions remain ever true, but the eons have afforded him much to ponder, much to weep over and regret, challenged his sense of morality and what is good and just and necessary in such a way that even he was surprised at the results. The Emet-Selch who had implored Hythlodaeus journey with him to Elpis in search of Hermes and the Emet-Selch who dutifully stood outside the counsel hall an hour early each and every morning could not have fathomed what had come to pass nor the many things he had wrought with his own hands. How can he say that his choices would be the very same with the knowledge he now wields?]
[But that is his own burden to bear. The question of whether he would do it all again in exactly the same manner one for himself to uncover. At least, he thinks, there is now one choice he cannot make the mistake of wresting from another's grasp.]
I expected as much, coming from you.
[Back then, even as he had pleaded, he knew. Whilst skirting around doing the unconscionable thing and disregarding the Convocation's own directive, Emet-Selch had sought to appeal to his friend; to change his mind. But Hythlodaeus's answer would remained been the same irregardless. Selfless to the very end and so full of faith.]
In the end, we each followed the path we deemed necessary. Who can truly say what may have occurred had our choices erred? Whether the resulting world would have been better or worse for it, whether the day would have been won or lost, or if we might have ended up exactly as we are now. Our choices are our own, yet the course of our star is a complex weave.
At least we have arrived at a conclusion we can live with - such as it is. One in which you are yourselves and no one else, with a whole new procession of choices to make on your own behalves.
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Hythlodaeus was correct. And so was Emet-Selch.]
Exactly, my dearest Emet-Selch. No matter the choices of others in differing realities, of experiences that blended the line between us and another, we are yet ourselves. Changed, yes. But change is not a thing to necessarily fear.
[He smiles, warm and bright. The air around him seems lighter, somehow, despite the sharing of burdens. As if a weight has lifted off. Arms pulling back, he takes his coffee with both hands and takes a long sip of the still-warm drink. The warmth that he feels within has nothing to do with the beverage he's drinking.
It's written all over his face. In his eyes.]
Thank you, both of you, for allowing me to be here and speak with you. To accept what I may give. It is all too tempting to withdraw and deal with one's troubles alone, to not burden others with the weight of what you have endured. A singular failing, I admit, that I myself am not immune to.
[A shrug is given at the admission. Themis has been better lately at it, but he will recognize his own faults.]
It is my hope that your troubles have been eased, if only by the smallest of fractions.
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[Not wholly, for some sense of unease will always remain until he grows used to that unfamiliar hue attached to his own, but it does not seem nearly so daunting now.
If Elidibus, he who was nearly swallowed by His and Their expectations can remain steadfast and even positive in a time like this, he himself cannot help but feel positive towards their futures as well.]
Though for all the thanks you give to us, I feel as though I should be the one extending them to you. As ever, you have proven yourself to be nothing short of an exemplary Emissary.
[And with the slightest twitch of the corners of his lips...]
Why, I would go so far as to say that Emet-Selch's brow may go uncreased for a full bell even after your departure.
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