Ah, ( he laughs, and that's what he does isn't it ) it was a long time before I even had an opportunity to meet her again. But even when I had it, I didn't want to take it. If it weren't for someone else, I probably wouldn't have. I'd thought, if she doesn't remember me, then —
( then, what; then, it'd be too painful to meet her. then, it'd maybe be for the best. she has her own life, and she got ten years away from all the troubles that hound his footsteps. scarcely half an hour in her presence again and she'd been endangered again (and again and again), and for all that she'd spoken of missing him, then and here, he still wonders if that was for the best. )
... A sister never forgets her older brother. No matter how long it's been.
[ it's empathy and confession, all at once. she releases the mug, instead folding her arms together on the table, left over right. ]
But I know what you mean. At least, I think I do. If you don't grow up together, then... things that were balanced before, won't be. So many things happen. Things once left in an endless sunlight are hidden, in the dark places nobody can see. Hopes, beliefs... even attitudes. They'll all be different. That person won't look at you with the same eyes. ... But, neither do you.
( the rest he only listens to, nods in acknowledgement and understanding. and how much bitterer, he thinks, it is when one's changed so much more than the other. the brother she described remembering is a far cry from what she must see now.
does he regret it? )
She wouldn't agree, of course, but it might've been better for her if I hadn't.
( he's selfish, remember, puts aside the desires she's expressed to him. she missed him then, wants to help him now; and yet and yet and yet she could've grown up properly, married someone who'd make a better heir to the dukedom anyway, never have to worry about the shadows that would have her older brother dead or worse. )
Or... to protect her feelings, for the brother she knew before?
[ soft, quiet, and far too understanding. they don't sound like selfish motivations when she says them, but isn't it selfish, to wish to preserve something you like about someone else, when they don't agree? ]
Ah, [ she says, a white crescent of a smile between her lips, and she nods once, wry. ] We're too much the same, I think. And a little mirrored.
[ she takes the final drink from her mug, and the tea is cold when it goes down. a shiver emerges from the depths of her, and when she sets the cup down, it sounds like an anchor on sand. ]
I have an older brother. I haven't mentioned him, either... but maybe you could guess something like that. ... I haven't seen him in three years.
Give or take a few months. [it's not like I'm counting, says the roll of her shoulders, but the wrinkle in her brow as she speaks has kept tally of the days. ]
When we were younger, he was always taking care of me. Protecting me, looking out for me... I depended on him for everything, in the end. But things changed, and he wasn't there to protect me anymore. A lot's happened to me, since then... even before coming here. I know I'm not the same person I used to be, but... it's hard, you know, to imagine him as anyone but the person who left. Who he was before he left, I mean. And he must think the same way of me, too. But the way things are now...
If I had the choice, if I could see him again... I don't know. I miss him, every day, but at the same time, I want to protect him, too. I want him to be happy, and free to follow his own dreams.
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( then, what; then, it'd be too painful to meet her. then, it'd maybe be for the best. she has her own life, and she got ten years away from all the troubles that hound his footsteps. scarcely half an hour in her presence again and she'd been endangered again (and again and again), and for all that she'd spoken of missing him, then and here, he still wonders if that was for the best. )
no subject
[ it's empathy and confession, all at once. she releases the mug, instead folding her arms together on the table, left over right. ]
But I know what you mean. At least, I think I do. If you don't grow up together, then... things that were balanced before, won't be. So many things happen. Things once left in an endless sunlight are hidden, in the dark places nobody can see. Hopes, beliefs... even attitudes. They'll all be different. That person won't look at you with the same eyes. ... But, neither do you.
... Do you regret it? Meeting her again?
no subject
( the rest he only listens to, nods in acknowledgement and understanding. and how much bitterer, he thinks, it is when one's changed so much more than the other. the brother she described remembering is a far cry from what she must see now.
does he regret it? )
She wouldn't agree, of course, but it might've been better for her if I hadn't.
( he's selfish, remember, puts aside the desires she's expressed to him. she missed him then, wants to help him now; and yet and yet and yet she could've grown up properly, married someone who'd make a better heir to the dukedom anyway, never have to worry about the shadows that would have her older brother dead or worse. )
no subject
Or... to protect her feelings, for the brother she knew before?
[ soft, quiet, and far too understanding. they don't sound like selfish motivations when she says them, but isn't it selfish, to wish to preserve something you like about someone else, when they don't agree? ]
no subject
from all of that and more; from trouble and danger and people who should never have been born — to let her enjoy the sunlight, worry-free. )
no subject
[ she takes the final drink from her mug, and the tea is cold when it goes down. a shiver emerges from the depths of her, and when she sets the cup down, it sounds like an anchor on sand. ]
I have an older brother. I haven't mentioned him, either... but maybe you could guess something like that. ... I haven't seen him in three years.
Give or take a few months. [ it's not like I'm counting, says the roll of her shoulders, but the wrinkle in her brow as she speaks has kept tally of the days. ]
When we were younger, he was always taking care of me. Protecting me, looking out for me... I depended on him for everything, in the end. But things changed, and he wasn't there to protect me anymore. A lot's happened to me, since then... even before coming here. I know I'm not the same person I used to be, but... it's hard, you know, to imagine him as anyone but the person who left. Who he was before he left, I mean. And he must think the same way of me, too. But the way things are now...
If I had the choice, if I could see him again... I don't know. I miss him, every day, but at the same time, I want to protect him, too. I want him to be happy, and free to follow his own dreams.
... Well. Maybe it's not the same.