meridio | (Awash & Hugtopia) IC contact

[ That he moves away from her so quickly makes her wonder if she's hit the nail right on the head. She can hardly believe it-- a king who doesn't (perhaps, no longer?) believes that what he says matters, what he thinks and feels matters, that he matters.

She recalls their first meeting, that he went as so far to say that whether others think of him as some sort of hero or not, is not his concern. Has no one told him that--

Pyra whispers, ] ...Somnus.

[ Before she knows it, she's reaching out to take his wrist to get him to stop moving away from him. To stop, to stay, to look at her. ] ....You matter. What you feel... how you feel... it matters.

[ And then, she releases his wrist. ]

[ Sentimental as always. To herself, she is the Architect's daughter; but to others, she's as human as they come. Subconsciously, he looks down at his freed wrist.

The desire to be valued is a mortal wish. He'd craved the acknowledgment in his prime, only to realize after the fact that it had been unchecked pride on his part. No matter how much it may matter, it doesn't matter nearly enough. ]

It will not protect the world.

[ He's so-- stubborn! But of course he is, he's been living like this ]

You can have both.

[ She insists. ] You... can protect the world, and you can have those feelings. [ He is human after all, he had been born with them. Those emotion, maybe, might even better motivate him. They have value in that way, at least in practicality. ]

I have carried them for as long as I can remember.

[ This, he won't deny. All mortals bear emotions. It's only a question of how much the individual demonstrates them, and he has always performed poorly on that front. ]

I only choose not to give them voice.

[ So he has them, but chooses not to voice them-- because to him, they ultimately do not matter. ]

...When has anyone heard them last?

[ He folds his arms across his chest.

22 years ago, he confessed his motives to his brother. Somnus asked not for forgiveness—just understanding—and this served only to enrage Ardyn in the end. That had been the first and the last time.

His arms loosen. No. There was another moment, however brief, where he bared his heart. ]

Before I was summoned to this world, I confronted my descendant. To him, I entrusted the future . . . and my hope.

[ She listens patiently, expecting him to say more. When he doesn't, she glances away.

One; it sounds like he's only talked to one person about his feelings. ]

What... is your hope?

[ He would have ended this conversation from the start if it were anyone else. But Pyra is presumably immortal, and the daughter of a god besides. Idle curiosity befitting a mortal isn't what drives her. He casts his gaze down, staring into his glass of rice wine. ]

That my brother be freed from his curse.

[ A curse that... was not inflicted by Somnus, but by the very gods that he worships and serves.

He is far too accomplished and strong for her to pity him, yet... she wishes his fate-- and that of his brother and all of his family-- were different.

That he keeps everything to himself, refusing to talk about his feelings and what he thinks, saying that it doesn't matter in the end, she realizes now that... ]

You love him.

....That's... [ A pause. ] That's why you suffer in silence. [ Not out of pride, not just out of serving a god's greater plan. But because of that love. She wishes she could convince him that he doesn't need to be silent (not here, of all places).

She smiles at him, sympathetic, lifting her cup. ] I wish... the gods had been kinder to the both of you. [ She recalls when he had said to her before: ] May... both of your souls be granted repose.

[ Though he doesn't answer, the faraway look in his eyes is as good an indication as any that he has heard her. He unfolds his arms, reaches for the glass, and takes a pensive sip without meeting her gaze.

Well-wishes for bygone days are trite, little more than a means devised by mortals to cope with the burdensome past. Somnus knows how this all ends. Rather than the past, he would look to the future.

It's close, closer than it ever has been. Yet it remains just out of reach for as long as he's trapped in a world of uncertainty. He almost feels young again; alive. But for all that, he only has one thing to say. ]

The end is nigh . . . for both this world and ours.

[ With the toast said, she takes a sip of her own sake, lowing it from her lips, she catches the gleam of her crystal reflecting in its surface. The world she had known has already been partially destroyed; it is already on its way to ending. The continents are dying, the population dwindling. The end is nigh, indeed.

Her brother, herself... did not start the fires humanity had, but she may be there to end it. ]

Then... if the end is to come, and it is beyond your power...

I would listen to your feelings. You might not say it matters, but it is not wasted breath to speak them.

[ He breathed, and Ardyn was threatened. He breathed, and the unworthy burned. Now he breathes, but for what?

She claims to love the world and everyone in it despite her limited understanding of human nature, just as he struggles to grasp the nature of the gods. Thus she seeks to love him by listening to his heart when few ever have. Somnus understands now: while he may perceive this as a waste of her time and energy, this is how she confers her blessing unto the people she so dearly loves.

He closes his eyes, then reopens them.

"Surely, you don't only see him as a means to an end." ]

They are my children. I have never not seen them as such, just as I have always seen the monster as my brother.

[ He could have left it at they are my children. That's sweet enough to say, but calling his brother a monster in the same breath causes a brief pause before she answers. ]

...You call him that, but you love him. [ His greatest regret is about him. This whole fate with the gods seems to be primarily about Ardyn, too.

She brings the glass to her lips. She can deal with Somnus' knack to trend the conversation topic towards something terrible. She can use that terrible topic of his brother, too. Gently: ]

What do you admire about him?

[ The answer takes a while to come. In the interim, Somnus partakes of his drink. ]

My brother always saw the good in others, who gave him their hearts in return. Together with the gods' blessing, he was ever a pillar of salvation in an era marked by turbulence. Even when the sickness began to overtake him, he never once wavered in his calling to take the people's suffering unto himself.

[ Somnus pauses. Not to take another sip of rice wine, but to simply allow a moment to pass for those departed days. His beloved brother, who could easily best him in a round of chess while playing with a handicap, who could match him in combat no matter how many long hours Somnus trained, who could do everything Somnus did but better— ]

He was everything I wanted to be . . . and everything I could not be.

[ Envy...

Somnus had mentioned before, and it seems that that is just the opposite, ugly face of admiration and awe. ]

Everything you wished to be...

[ A pause. And then something occurs to her with some mild surprise. She blinks at him, placing a hand upon the countertop. ] You... wish to see the good in others, and have their hearts given to you in return?

[ He waves the glass. No, that's not quite it. ]

I wished to be popular. My brother was beloved by the people, yet I had nothing to set me apart and earn their gazes as he had.

[ He understands how petty this sounds. He realized it the second he donned the crown and received his calling, just how small he had been in the grand scheme of things. ]

He was chosen, whereas I was not. That was what I thought.

[ "What I had thought"..." ]

...But the gods had chosen you. [ She whispers, listening to his story. ]

Knowing his fate... would you trade places with him?

Edited 2019-09-11 03:56 (UTC)

No.

[ Curses do not scare Somnus. Knowing he and his brother's individual nature, however, he would not trade places with Ardyn. There was a reason he plotted to usurp the throne before the gods made their choice. ]

My brother saw only the good in people. I saw the bad where he turned a blind eye. Because of that, I could not trust him to rule.

...But... [ A pause, as she's trying to work through this. ] Did you, ah, envy... his ability to see good in others?

Truth be told, I do not remember when I first felt it.

[ More than anything, he wanted in his youth to emulate his brother, who seemed to navigate life with noble grace. It was only as he grew older that things began to change. Too many years have passed since, making it difficult to pinpoint the exact moment his feelings took a bitter turn. ]

I saw both the good and the bad in all who stood before me, even myself. While my brother drew ever closer, I distanced myself from the people who must have held me in contempt for my lack of grace. My concern was with being fair, but what I craved was acknowledgment.

[ Acknowledgment that was only ever extended to his beloved brother. What a small man he was. ]

Your Majesty....

[ She says his name sympathetically, but it’s followed by a firmer tone.

She leans forward, as if inspecting him— or, perhaps, challenging him. From the way he talks about his brother... perhaps he doesn’t even realize it himself, or maybe two thousand years kept sealed in a purgatory have clouded his mind, but— ]

You said that you’ve only ever saw him as a monster.... but is that really true?

Edited 2019-09-12 12:56 (UTC)

[ She leans forward and he meets her, neutral yet unyielding. On this one thing, he knows the answer with the utmost certainty. ]

No matter what he's become, he is my brother.

....Why do you say he is a monster, if the gods made him that way?

The gods did not introduce the plague to our world. The Scourge makes monsters of mortals, and my brother was no exception.

[ Oh.

She tilts her head. ]

Is the scourge beyond the gods' control?

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