westfallcorndog | Friendship, Hardship (Tagging Viatorus)

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Friendship, Hardship (Tagging Viatorus)

Days have passed since the last time he saw Viatorus, and when they'd parted it was on such unfortunate terms. He'd threatened violence against a family member, threatened violence against Viatorus's body. His meeting with Doctor Hill had been a difficult if enlightening experience. Confessing all of the things he'd done wrong, explaining out loud the way he'd mistreated his friend, coming to conclusions about himself, his own flaws... It was difficult, emotional work, but somehow he felt better for it all. More pure, more honest. But explaining himself to a psychologist and apologizing to his friend were two entirely different matters.

And Viatorus is his friend. Or so he hopes. He needs to know, but more importantly, he needs to try to set things right.

As impersonal as it feels, he starts with a text.

[Viatorus. I know you may not want to see a message from me but I want to talk to you about everything that happened. I want to say what is on my mind but most importantly I want you to have a chance to say what is on yours.]

[You are a man and you have the right as a man to say you do not want to meet me and I respect that. But if you do want to meet I will be on the steps of the downtown library with the gryphon statues outside all day. If you don't want to reply and don't show up I will understand what that means.]

And, just as he said, he's waiting on the steps of the library. Now and then he checks his phone, but otherwise he seems content to watch the crowds and feed the strange variety of birds with bits of bread he'd brought along.

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Slowly, he walks over to the steps and sits on them, a short distance from Harrowheart. Still close enough to keep his voice low and be heard, but a distance respectful to his uncertain feelings.

"I... I don't know what to do say," he admits quietly. He takes time to look around and distract himself briefly with curious thoughts about the wildlife here, but then his eyes settle on his knees and he shuffles on the spot. "I shouldn't really be here. Isidor doesn't want me near you. But, I thought... I thought we should talk, I suppose."

Harrow presses his lips together and nods in understanding at mention of Isidor. He figured that would be the case. As much as he'd like to ask after her and offer to apologize to her as well, this is Viatorus' moment.

"You don't know what to say 'cause you don't know how you feel? Or you don't know what to say 'cause you never get the chance to say what you know you feel?"

He waits a moment in silence for Viatorus to think of an answer, but before he can speak Harrow quietly adds, "If it's the first, I understand. But if it's the second... You don't gotta worry about hurtin' me. Every person deserves a chance to say what they feel. It's your right as a human bein' and as a young man growin' up. You got a right to express your feelin's, 'cause you're a person."

He closes his eyes, and once again his lips set into a thin, taught line. "A person whose happiness and comfort is worth more than his legacy and his body, which... Is somethin' I recognize I didn't respect. I was –" He sucks in a deep breath of air and holds it in a moment. The lights of his eyes flicker across Viatorus' face and he frowns in thought.

"I don't feel right explainin' myself until you get somethin' off your chest first, or give me permission. I wanna give you the chance to say what you feel. Not 'cause I feel like I need you to hurt me for us to be even, nothin' like that. But because, like I said... You're a man, Viatorus, and more importantly, you're a friend. And this time I wanna listen to you and follow you before I act."

Of all the responses, that was not the one he'd expected. He'd never thought of the second question before, so it catches him off guard. It deserves some proper thought, but before he can come to any sort of conclusion, Harrowheart is giving him more to think about again.

He stares at his fingers as they pull at each other while he thinks. For the longest time, he remains quiet until finally he speaks.

"I feel a lot of things. Disappointed. Hurt. But... there's also..." The creases on his brow flicker as he struggles with describing it. "Another feeling. I... A... A... resignation. An... understanding."

His hands twist some more and he shrugs up his shoulders. "I... I am what I am the same way you are what you are, and... and... I guess I forgot myself. Maybe it's... this place. This wonderful place." Viatorus lifts his head to look sadly at the scenery. "You know, it's a lot like the dreamlands. It shares a lot of the same qualities. Shifting landscape, a-and time passing strangely... But... in dreams... I am whoever I want to be. I'm... taken as I am." A deep breath. "But it's not the dreamlands. I'm still me. In the real world I'll always be a bargaining chip. To everyone I know. So... I understand, but I'd forgotten."

How difficult that is to hear, Viatorus' resignation. He's too young to be resigning himself to sad fates. There's an overwhelming urge inside of Harrowheart to reach out and touch him, pull him in for a hug, comfort him physically because he knows his words can't do it. Still, that feels out of line. It's too soon. Instead he chances shifting a few inches closer and watching carefully to see how that's perceived.

"Viatorus," he says softly, as comfortingly as he can. "I can't..." He licks his lips and bites at them. A thousand words are swimming in his mind and catching in his throat. This is so much more complex than he's capable of handling. He couldn't even manage such simple feelings as fear, how could he ever expect to grapple with something as complex as comforting another person in a moment of such struggle?

"There are so many things I need to say to you, but I'm not sure I can. I wish there was one wild action I could take right now to change your mind. I wish that... Instead of bein' in my body, you'd been in my heart, or my mind. I wish... I wish I was wiser. Then maybe I'd have the words to explain to you how much everyone did you wrong to make you feel this way. Even me, Viatorus. Even me. I did you wrong. Maybe the worst wrong I've ever done in my life, and if you knew the things I've done," He forces himself to huff a single, humorless laugh. "You'd know how much that meant."

He blinks fast and hard, sighs and inhales, and tries to keep his thoughts organized as well as he can despite the difficulty of it all.

"Whether or not you ever trust me again, please... Please try to believe how much I mean it when I say: Viatorus, you can't give up believin' you're so much more than the world tells you. Your heart is good and fulla trust, and it wants to believe that the world knows best, and it wants to listen to what the world says, but... The world's been lyin' to you all your life. You saw life through the perspective of all these other folks who treated you like somethin' less important than you are, and you took in all those messages never knowin' they were lies. Please don't let those lies eat up your heart."

He looks down at his own knees, and for a while it seems he might be through talking. But then, quiet and slow, he starts again, eyes on Viatorus once more.

"I was so... Surprised... So happy and so proud for you that afternoon when you told me that you believe the natural state of bein' alive is happiness. I couldn't hardly believe it. I never met anyone who said somethin' like that. For a minute there I thought that I was wrong about everything I assumed we had in common, but in the best of ways. That you had some kinda... Some kinda unbreakable spirit. But I hear you say this, and I know that I was right all along. That your heart is delicate – not weak, but precious. Your soul is..."

His eyes shift to his hands as they float unanchored to his severed wrists, and he frowns.

"A chandelier," he says. "It's beautiful. It's giant. It's made of a thousand fragile little pieces, and it shines fulla light. It hangs on a chain that holds up all its weight. Everyone that sees it can feel its warmth and let its light in. Or... Or they can break the glass. They can blow out the candles. They can turn off all your warmth and all your light and life, if you let 'em. And then... Then your soul turns to a heavy scrap of iron hangin' like a prison cage 'til you feel like an ugly, terrible burden just waitin' to crash down and shatter. 'Til maybe you think it'd be better if you just... Cut those flimsy little chains and fall down on your own terms."

He looks to Viatorus with a kind of tiredness that his body can't possibly be feeling, and he shakes his head.

"You're more than what you're made of. You're more than your value. You're more than the cost it took to make and hang you up for everyone to see. You're worth your light, and your warmth, and the beauty that comes from inside your heart. And I feel... So terrible... For bein' one of the people in this world who put out your lights."

There's an awful lot for him to listen to, an awful lot to take in. Much of it he doesn't fully understand. Most of it, in fact. It's difficult to take someone's views into consideration when everyone else seems to be enforcing things as you know it to be already. If Harrowheart didn't seem as earnest as he does, Viatorus might be tempted to say the death knight is trying to be kind to him with nice, meaningless words. That's not how he speaks, however. There's feeling in those words, there's emotion.

Viatorus stares at Harrowheart, brow knotted in concentration as he tries to make sense of the things he's being told. When the other is finished properly this time, he looks away, and swallows hard. "It's nice. It's a nice thought. But..." He lifts his shoulders. "Even if that's true... That's not how things work. To everyone else... I am a value. To you, to my parents... even to Isidor. A value that is more important to some than others, but... in the right situation..."

"If... If I act like that's not how things work, how things will always be..." The scholar gives Harrowheart a brief glance. "I'll only find more disappointment. More hurt."

Harrow opens his mouth, then thinks better of the answer he was going to give. He has to think on this a minute more before he tries again, his voice still quiet and calm as he can manage.

"If you could choose, Viatorus... If you could choose how people saw you and what they valued in you... What would it be? If this was a dream and you could be anyone or anything you wanted, how would you want the world to value you?"

"I..." He stares at Harrowheart with wide eyes for a long moment, and then looks away, shaking his head and pulling up his shoulders. "I don't know. I wouldn't want to upset people, or harm them. I know I'd like that, but... I don't know what else."

After a bit of silence, he tries again, quietly. "In... In dreams, I... I like it when we're having fun. Th-The dreamer and I. We... We get rid of nightmares. Then we just... play. Imagine. Create. Happy."

Though he doesn't mean to, Harrowheart can't help but smile. There V goes, being the sweet creature Harrow knows he is.

"That's a real good way to wanna be," he says, still smiling gently. "A real good light to give off."

Still, he feels out of place hearing that. Is that a goal he could ever help Viatorus achieve? Has he ever given someone anything other than nightmares? He forces himself not to frown, but his smile leaves his face. Neutral for the first time since their talk began he watches Viatorus, his eyes shifting with his thoughts.

"Is it too late for us to do that, Viatorus?"

"I don't know," he admits softly, twisting his thumb. "But... maybe we can try. Then we'll find out. The future is... ever changing. Surprising."

Viatorus' eyes flicker over to Harrowheart, still watching him with concern. Why that concern is there is hard to say exactly. Whether it's for himself, or the situation, or the other man. "You were scared."

Now there's a shock. Harrow blinks hard at Viatorus' unexpected assessment of the situation. He doesn't nod but inclines his head and looks away, eyes cast down at his knees once more.

"I was really scared," he admits in a small voice. "I was scared the minute we got to your home. Isidor laughed at me at breakfast. I don't think she knew I was bein' serious. I was scared all day that someone would threaten my life, or Steve's life, or your life in one of our bodies."

He shrugs one shoulder, shifts his mouth uncertainly from side to side.

"I was scared of the necromancer because I didn't know what he could do. I didn't know if he was an enemy. He didn't listen to Isidor, and I didn't know if she could stop him if he chose to do somethin' to my body just to prove a point. I knew that if he did, Steve'd die, and my body'd die or... Be his slave."

He huffs a humorless laugh and forces a smile for Viatorus. "I'm not unbeatable, you know? There are things that can hurt me. There are things that terrify me, too. I thought that if I... If I convinced him I was strong and scary, that he might back off. That if I said I'd do violent things to him, he'd... I don't know. Maybe he'd believe me and back off? Maybe Steve'd back off too. That's how it works where I come from. When you're scared, you either bluff and someone runs, or you fight and someone dies. But then he called my bluff, and I thought that meant a fight, and..."

He inhales sharply through his nose. "For the first time in a very, very long time... There were reasons that I didn't wanna die. I thought about this beautiful place," he pauses briefly to motion around them. "I thought about all the happiness and freedom from fear I've felt since I came here. I thought about the friends I'd made, and the friends that needed me to keep that fight from happenin'. And for the first time I realized... Wow. There's things I wanna stick around for. There's reasons I can't die. There's finally a good reason for me to live."

He holds his hands out, open, empty palms up. "I made a terrible lie because I thought that you and Isidor'd know I wouldn't do it. But y'all weren't in my head then. You didn't know what I knew. You saw me takin' your body hostage and threatenin' violence. Your sister saw her brother almost die. And I saw Isidor then, and that's when I realized... That's when I knew you two thought I'd do it. You didn't know I couldn't."

Then he rubs at his cheeks, eyes distant, frowning once more. "I thought about my own sister. How she don't want anything to do with me 'cause of... 'Cause of some choices I made before I died. Seein' Isidor shout, watchin' her chase us down... It felt like I was watchin' myself make those bad choices all over again. I regretted it all so deeply the minute I made that awful lie..."

"But it was a lie, Viatorus. I never coulda done it. Not that time. And to you, not ever."

"That's not how it works in my world. People talk and talk, but what they say, how they feel, what they think, what they'll do... are all different things. In my family, there are few crimes greater than breaking the rules of hospitality. If the Necromancer had done anything, the Archon would have punished him even if the gods didn't strike him down." He sighs and shakes his head. "Isidor couldn't calm everyone down at once. Not when everyone was so loud and she thought I was suffocating."

He stares at his hands, trying to keep them still, trying to keep focused. The least he can do is make an attempt to keep his thoughts and words coherent. He takes a deep breath before he speaks. "There are some things we never gamble with. Magic, and each other's lives... We do enough of that while we're researching. You..." He frowns hard, but remains fixed on his hands instead of his friend. "You didn't know if you could control my magic. You could have panicked. That's all it would have taken. A stray thought, a scared impulse... You know magic, and you still... You gambled with your own life, mine, and with magic. Even if you didn't mean to. That wasn't a lie."

Harrow listens, totally quiet and utterly still apart from the shifting of his eyes that watch Viatorus speak. And when he's through, and when there are no words between them, he looks down. With his head hung he nods solemnly.

"You're right," he admits, still nodding.

"I'm used to bein' able to gamble with my own life, I'm used to havin' control of my magic and my body, and I didn't think about the consequences if somethin' went wrong. That ain't what a good person does. That ain't how a good friend acts. But..."

He bites the inside of his lips and winces.

"Viatorus, I understand why you're hurt. I'd understand if you never trusted me again. And I know how selfish this is, but... I want the chance to make it up to you. To prove that you mean more than the way I acted. To be a friend to you not for your money or your magic or your name, but to see you laugh and learn to joke, to give you help when you're strugglin' through hard times, and to share the pride and joy of your accomplishments."

"I know that we weren't friends too long before I did... What I did. But when I sat with you in the park and helped you calm down, helped talk you through your troubles, I felt... Good. Not just happy, but like I really could be good. Like I could be somethin' more than was expected of me, more than I was made and taught to be."

With a tiny, hopeful laugh he says, "That's probably as close as I'll ever get to knowin' what it feels like when you dreamwalk."

He tries to put on a smile, but the regret he feels shows in his eyes.

"I know you feel like it's your job to fix folks, but please don't think about this like that. You gotta make the choice for yourself, whether or not it sits right with you to put all this behind us. And y'know what? If you decide you can't forgive this or don't wanna see me again, I'll still be proud of you for makin' your own choice."

Viatorus gradually turns his head to look at Harrowheart the more he speaks. The hesitation is clear on his face, though he gives the other his full attention. Isidor's furious ravings on the matter still ring in his ears, but... Harrowheart's words come across as earnest, genuine. They make everything so confusing, encouraging his heart to disagree with his head.

At this stage, his fingers are twisting quite a bit and he occasionally nibbles on his lower lip. "I liked it too," he admits quietly. "I've never had someone other than Isidor help me like that before. A-And you didn't try to... try to convince me to act according to my station."

"You... You've been good to me as you've been bad." He looks back at his hands. "I guess that's the nature of balance. Light and dark, good and bad. But... learning is what's important. You learned last time, and this time. You know what you did, and why, and what the consequences where, and why." This time he looks more questioning than worried, which is a small success. "I believe that what you do with the lesson matters more than how you learned it."

"I... I think you do good things with the lessons you learn. Or you try to."

Harrowheart tries not to look too terribly relieved at what he hears. It's made marginally easier by how understanding and knowledgeable Viatorus is being.

"I don't know what to say, except... Thank you." Normally admitting something he's at a loss for words comes with an expression of guilt or hesitance, but on the contrary Harrowheart is smiling. He's lost his words in the best of ways, and every hint of regret that darkened his eyes is gone, leaving only honest relief and a touch of hopeful worry.

"Y'know? I feel like you got as many lessons for me as I got for you." He shakes his head, smiling at the thought "I'm relieved to hear you say everything you said, but I'm humbled, too. I will do better. I'll do good with the lessons I learn, Viatorus. I'll be good, and we'll help each other learn, and we'll have a good future together, you and me as pals."

Harrow rubs his hands together absently and shakes his head once more. With a forced little laugh he says, "Now I gotta figure out how to explain this all to Isidor. You said she doesn't want you near me, and I wanna respect her wishes 'cause she's your family and she loves you, but that means I gotta change her opinion. Again. Does she know you're here now? You think she'd be mad if she found out?"

Even with the events of their last meeting, Viatorus can't help but smile slightly when he sees Harrowheart brighten. It's an honest gratitude that he sees, one that Viatorus simply doesn't have the energy or inclination to be sceptical about.

"I hope so," he says quietly. "I would hate to be unable to return anything."

At the mention of Isidor, his brow knits again and he looks over to Lyall. The guard has been keeping a closer eye on Harrowheart than their surroundings, unlike last time. The reminder of his sister's opinion gets a small, worried exhale. "She's going to know, and she's going to be angry." Viatorus looks at Harrowheart again. "She was scared too. She could have handled Steve or the Necromancer, but... what you did scared her so much. She's furious. At you, at herself... I can try to talk to her, but I don't know if she'll listen."

Harrow looks to Lyall too, and though his first inclination is to frown at the way he's being watched, he keeps his wits about him and instead offers a smile, half-hearted and guilty though it may be. He waves, but otherwise remembers that Lyall's meant to be ignored, and so he quickly returns his attention to Viatortus.

"I ain't gonna make you talk to her and get on her bad side like that. For better or worse, I'll talk to her myself. If not, I could always take my own advice and write a letter, huh? I could write it up quick and give it to you before you go home tonight? Then meet her later and talk it out face to face."

He rubs at his chin then, feels the shape of his jaw, and as he thinks his eyes narrow. "Would it be underhanded to apologize in y'all's mansion? She'd have to... Y'know... Obey Xena? Xenia? Hospitality? She'd have to be gracious, right? But shoot, that seems so unfair... What do you think, man?"

"It would be easier to be in one of my apartments. Then, yes, she would have to obey xenia, as a guest if not a host." Viatorus goes quiet as he considers the options before them. "I would rather speak face to face with Isidor, always. You can see her emotion, you can see... her. With a letter... she might carefully tear you apart word by word. And you're harder to ignore in person. Harder to dismiss. And it's easier for you to apologise. Easier for her to see how genuine you are."

After another moment, he sighs and shrugs. "I can only give my opinion. You should do what you think is best."

Harrowheart rubs his chin and feels the shape of his jawline as he squints in thought at all he's been told.

"I'll talk to her face to face," he says determinedly. "I ain't afraid, even though I probably oughta be, and I think you and I both agree it's right. I'll apologize to her like I did to you. I'll be honest, and I won't fight with her, but I'll try and make her see things differently."

A few more seconds' thought and he asks, "Are there rules for keepin' with xenia when you make an apology?" He glances over his shoulder at the library behind them, then returns his attention to Viatorus. "You think maybe I should read up on it?"

"I'll help you however I can, but I don't think it will be easy," Viatorus warns gently.

"Xenia is about being a good host and a polite guest. The main rules are that a host should be courteous and provide their guest with food, drink and anything they need, within reason of course. A guest should not overburden their host and not be rude." He follows Harrowheart's gaze back to the library. "It's not necessary to research it, but... it might help. Old rules carry sway with old families."

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Friendship, Hardship (Tagging Viatorus)

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Sounds like Harrowheart's having a Scrooge moment

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