It's around dinnertime that Benedict returns to the dormitory with the intention of changing clothes so he can go out into the city with Colin. After a long day of being fully exhausted, his first instinct is, instead, to heave himself onto his bed and sigh deeply at the feeling of being prone at last.
Maybe he'll ask Colin to reschedule. Maybe dinner isn't that important.
Edgard walks in shortly after and sees Benedict lying on the bed. He takes a breath and stays near the door. He starts to back out and then wills himself forward. He puts his things down near his own bed.
"Are you alright?" He says with his back to Benedict. It's a stupid question.
At the sound of Edgard's voice, Benedict grunts lightly and turns his head, looking at him from under his hair with half his face mashed into the pillow. Then he nods, tired rather than angry.
"Everyone's all fucked today," he admits, the corner of his mouth visible in its smirk between two strands of shinier-than-usual black hair.
Let's not talk about that. Or acknowledge it ever.
Propping himself up on his elbows, Bene looks over at Edgard.
"There was truth to some of it," he murmurs pensively, "like, there were things in it that... that I think are real. Or might be. But not all of them."
"Well," Bene begins, twisting his mouth to one side as he considers how to phrase it. "Um, I went to my parents', after... our whole thing. And there was a room there, where I was, and I didn't think I'd ever seen it before." He combs his hair back with his fingers, settling his head down with his chin on his arm.
"But I think I actually like. Did. ...I think it's real. And that's."
Bene's look back at him is almost incredulous-- is it that difficult to believe? But he supposes not everyone knows the situation, which almost makes the question more awkward.
"My parents are aligned with the Venatori," he says quietly, propping his head up on one hand, "they... think, or at least thought, I was here spying for them." An unclear emotion flickers across his face: likely something he's doing his damnedest to suppress. He drops his gaze, weighed by the shame of the situation.
"If I left Riftwatch I would have to answer to them, and to the other Alti involved with Corypheus. For failing as a double agent. ...I'm not a good liar."
A deep breath in yields a sigh through his nose, and Benedict nods.
"In the dream, Mother just..." He trails off immediately, finding the memory of it, and the authenticity of the emotions surrounding it, too overwhelming to continue. "...I was a prisoner," he amends, his gaze flickering up to Edgard's and down again.
"I went home a couple years back, to try and resolve something personal. I wasn't allowed to leave then, either, until I agreed to work against Riftwatch."
"Prisoner." Edgard echoes. "I'm sorry." And its clear he means that it happened at all as well as his own part in this.
He laughs a little, but there's no humor in it. "Here I thought you were someone easily frightened. But, getting away twice, three times if we count the dream, takes some bravery."
Benedict doesn't look at him, and in fact all the wind seems to be gone from his sails, if ever it was there at all.
"The dream wasn't real," he says in a soft, introspective tone, "and the first time I 'got away', if you want to call it that, it was under the agreement to betray Riftwatch. I spent the better part of a year in the dungeon, and will probably never be trusted again. If I ever was."
He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear.
"So just. ...don't feel too bad, about what didn't really happen. It's not like you compromised anything in the waking world." Unlike some of us, goes unspoken.
The corner of Bene's mouth pulls up faintly, into what might be a smile if he hadn't just dredged up a whole bunch of things that individually give him reason not to.
"They let me out on the condition I can be useful," he continues softly, "and if I can't, then..."
He spares the finger-across-neck gesture, just looking wearily downward instead.
Edgard curses in Orlesian under his breath. It's always the same. People in power looking for someone to blame, hung up on usefulness and regulations. It's Alexandre all over again. Maybe it's because he's raw from the dream, but for once that thought doesn't bring him shame. His blood boils at the injustice of it and anyone given unfair burdens. He chews his lip, breathes out and speaks gruffly.
"Then you do your best. If that's not good enough, then, we'll figure it out."
If Benedict were aware of Edgard's thought process, he might seek to correct him-- but he isn't, and he won't, already regretting the amount of detail he's given.
Edgard's response merits a little smile, and a nod into his crossed arms as Benedict lays his head back down onto them.
"I do," he assures him mildly, "I am."
A brief pause, then: "Colin and I are going out in a bit, to take the edge off. Want to come?"
Edgard's eyes widen in surprise and he nods yes eagerly before thinking about it. He then grits his teeth a little when his brain catches up.
"You sure that that would be alright? Colin might have indicated that he needed some time." He didn't necessarily say away from Edgard, but he's a little wary of taking chances at the moment.
It seems sort of funny, that Colin would need more time than Benedict, but Colin is a sensitive sort in a way Bene doesn't always understand, and perhaps it's a sign of growth that he actually stops to recognize that before fishing the crystal out from under his shirt.
A quick conversation follows, in which he asks Colin if he'd all right with Edgard joining, approval is gained, and he smiles triumphantly at the latter.
"I do just fine." He says a little defensively. Edgard sighs, looks at Benedict, who has invited him out and is kind enough to forgive him. He sighs again and relents. He rolls his eyes.
"Alright, you can comb it." He says nearly inaudibly.
"You can borrow some of my clothes, if you want to look nice," he adds, "...you'll have to take a bath first, but I think we're about the same size."
Unearthing a wooden chest from beneath his bed, he sorts through it until he finds his comb, then comes to sit on Edgard's bed behind him. This will take a while.
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Maybe he'll ask Colin to reschedule. Maybe dinner isn't that important.
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"Are you alright?" He says with his back to Benedict. It's a stupid question.
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"Everyone's all fucked today," he admits, the corner of his mouth visible in its smirk between two strands of shinier-than-usual black hair.
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"Well, we all woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Or--someone else's as the case may be."
He lays back onto his own bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Whole thing was fucked."
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Propping himself up on his elbows, Bene looks over at Edgard.
"There was truth to some of it," he murmurs pensively, "like, there were things in it that... that I think are real. Or might be. But not all of them."
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"How do you mean?"
He fiddles a little with a corner of a blanket.
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"Um, I went to my parents', after... our whole thing. And there was a room there, where I was, and I didn't think I'd ever seen it before." He combs his hair back with his fingers, settling his head down with his chin on his arm.
"But I think I actually like. Did. ...I think it's real. And that's."
He chews his lower lip for a moment.
"...bad."
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"Your parents?" He says incredulously. "You were captured by the Venatori to be taken to your parents?"
Edgard shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair. He then asks measuredly, "What sort of bad room?"
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"My parents are aligned with the Venatori," he says quietly, propping his head up on one hand, "they... think, or at least thought, I was here spying for them."
An unclear emotion flickers across his face: likely something he's doing his damnedest to suppress. He drops his gaze, weighed by the shame of the situation.
"If I left Riftwatch I would have to answer to them, and to the other Alti involved with Corypheus. For failing as a double agent. ...I'm not a good liar."
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His voice drops a little. "So that's what happened? They punished you for being a bad spy?"
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"In the dream, Mother just..." He trails off immediately, finding the memory of it, and the authenticity of the emotions surrounding it, too overwhelming to continue.
"...I was a prisoner," he amends, his gaze flickering up to Edgard's and down again.
"I went home a couple years back, to try and resolve something personal. I wasn't allowed to leave then, either, until I agreed to work against Riftwatch."
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He laughs a little, but there's no humor in it. "Here I thought you were someone easily frightened. But, getting away twice, three times if we count the dream, takes some bravery."
He tries to meet Benedict's gaze, but it wavers.
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"The dream wasn't real," he says in a soft, introspective tone, "and the first time I 'got away', if you want to call it that, it was under the agreement to betray Riftwatch. I spent the better part of a year in the dungeon, and will probably never be trusted again. If I ever was."
He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear.
"So just. ...don't feel too bad, about what didn't really happen. It's not like you compromised anything in the waking world." Unlike some of us, goes unspoken.
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He folds his arms over his chest. "I didn't know any of this. But, it seems to me you're no longer in the dungeon. For what it's worth, I trust you."
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"They let me out on the condition I can be useful," he continues softly, "and if I can't, then..."
He spares the finger-across-neck gesture, just looking wearily downward instead.
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"Then you do your best. If that's not good enough, then, we'll figure it out."
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Edgard's response merits a little smile, and a nod into his crossed arms as Benedict lays his head back down onto them.
"I do," he assures him mildly, "I am."
A brief pause, then: "Colin and I are going out in a bit, to take the edge off. Want to come?"
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"You sure that that would be alright? Colin might have indicated that he needed some time." He didn't necessarily say away from Edgard, but he's a little wary of taking chances at the moment.
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It seems sort of funny, that Colin would need more time than Benedict, but Colin is a sensitive sort in a way Bene doesn't always understand, and perhaps it's a sign of growth that he actually stops to recognize that before fishing the crystal out from under his shirt.
A quick conversation follows, in which he asks Colin if he'd all right with Edgard joining, approval is gained, and he smiles triumphantly at the latter.
"Let's dress up," he decides, and pauses.
"Can I comb your hair?"
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"My hair?" He repeats faintly. "A-are you saying something is wrong with it?"
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"It's dirty," he points out, "you'll never pick up anyone that way. Or. ...you might, but they won't be the kind of people you want."
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"I do just fine." He says a little defensively. Edgard sighs, looks at Benedict, who has invited him out and is kind enough to forgive him. He sighs again and relents. He rolls his eyes.
"Alright, you can comb it." He says nearly inaudibly.
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"You can borrow some of my clothes, if you want to look nice," he adds, "...you'll have to take a bath first, but I think we're about the same size."
Unearthing a wooden chest from beneath his bed, he sorts through it until he finds his comb, then comes to sit on Edgard's bed behind him. This will take a while.
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His eyes roll to the top of his head to try to see Benedict's progress. "Ow! That hurts! I'd like to have hair left when you're through, thanks."
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He won't push it, though-- it's Edgard's loss.
Combing through as carefully as he can, he scoffs.
"Don't be a baby. I'm being as gentle as I can, all things considered."
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