[ Bastien's good enough with a bow to have not gotten his ears pulled all the way off by his bardmaster—so much better than most people—but Edgard is a better shot than he is, which is all the more reason to practice alongside him. Bastien might learn something. And he's a little competitive. A cheerful loser, but he'd rather win, or at least keep up. It's motivating.
While they're taking a break, though, to pull arrows out of the targets so they can start again, he says, ] Those ghosts. The dead ones. Were they from the war?
[A poor attempt at a joke. He knows what he's asking. He had hoped that Bastien hadn't seen the dead bodies, but clearly not. Edgard doesn't look at Bastien and fiddles with his bow.]
Yes. No. Well--one of them.
[He breathes in and hold his bow close, disarmed without an arrow now. He runs his fingers along it, trying to stay steady.]
[ Bastien lets his shortbow dangle from one hand, string caught in the last crooked joint of his finger, and watches Edgard with a steady mix of interest and concern. Concern for him. No fear. ]
One of them was from the war, or one of them was not?
[ Bastien resists the contrarian urge to spin the bow around on his finger like a toy hoop. Instead, with an air of affectionate indulgence, he slowly adds a second finger to the one crooked around the string.
Otherwise, he only tilts his head, waiting patiently for Edgard to explain himself further. ]
[Edgard squirms in the silence. He face flushes a little and waits uncomfortably long before--]
Rayan. He was a soldier with me.
[Even saying the name fills him with a hot shame. He shoves it down and turns from Bastien to pull an arrow out of a target. It takes some tugging, it's stuck tight.]
This one was one of yours. [He says referring to the arrow.] Don't know if you killed the target, but it's seriously injured. [At this he turns back to Bastien, grinning now.]
[Edgard's face darkens and he drops the arrow in Bastien's hand. His face hardens and he doesn't look at him. Report him? He had thought Bastien was a friend, someone he could trust, and apparently Bastien just wants to report him. Edgard is stupid, he's always stupid and there's always a catch. He doesn't consider that there might be something alarming about what he's said or hasn't said, he just feels hurt and it's underlined with other hurts he's felt before. He responds sharply.]
What are you concerned about? That I make a habit of chopping off people's heads?
[He wants to cry and this makes him angrier and instead of going inward it goes outward at Bastien.]
Was ordered to. Told that I had to prove that I was a good little soldier, so I did it and then I decided to not be a good little soldier anymore.
So report that! Tell them I followed orders and killed an innocent man and then I deserted. Tell them that's why I don't follow orders anymore unless I know why I'm following them and they make sense to me.
[He doesn't add the questions that are always there: was he right? was he wrong? He shuts his mind to that and doesn't let it in. He folds his arms and looks Bastien in the eye now.]
If you're concerned I might report anything about you, wouldn't dream of it.
[ If Bastien were trying to play Edgard, he might cower a little at his tone. Take a step away. Crumple his own face with hurt. The fellow is sensitive, empathetic—he might be sorry.
But he isn't trying to play him, so Bastien doesn't disguise his unflappable absence of hurt or alarm at the response. He only tilts his head, face still, eyes thoughtful with a touch of regret, while Edgard explains. ]
They know about me.
[ He doesn't smile, because Edgard is so miserable, but there's a self-deprecating sort of twist to his mouth for a moment, for a private thought. ]
I'm sorry that happened to you. And to him. None of it should have—the whole war. It was bullshit.
[Bastien's lack of a reaction catches Edgard off guard. He expected yelling and dramatics, but instead Bastien looks at him. Edgard is still red faced and angry and in the calm, he releases a breath feeling strange and more stupid than he did initially. He nods tersely.]
Bullshit. [He spits and it's unclear whether it's an agreement or indictment, but it's quieter than before.]
So, they know. Wouldn't have reported if they didn't.
[The last bits of anger sputters out and Edgard squats down to grab the dropped arrow and stays down.]
Maybe that's wrong. How should I know what's right? It doesn't matter, it's always wrong. It's bullshit.
Edited (oh no i made it all small ) 2022-05-16 03:10 (UTC)
[ Bastien inclines his head, when Edgard doesn't pop back up to standing. But after a moment he squats down, too, and tips forward onto his knees in front of him. ]
Some things are right.
[ He puts a hand on Edgard's shoulder. He is drifting, slowly, toward hugging him. Eventually. After a few silent vibe checks to see if he's allowed. The hand on the shoulder is the first one. ]
They have been hard for me to find, too, but I think this is one of them. Riftwatch.
[Edgard isn't used to this. Generally, his temper breaks what his mistakes do not. He flinches initially at the hand on his shoulder, but he doesn't move away.]
Hope so. [His tone is quieter now.] Trying to make up for-- [He shrugs and scoots a little closer to Bastien and then looks him in the eye and speaks directly.]
Not going to hurt anyone...innocent like that again. Not on purpose. Hope not on accident either but--
[But who can say what will happen? Edgard doesn't trust his own judgement and why should anyone else? He feels a wave rising and he takes a deep breath, pushing it down and away.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action.
While they're taking a break, though, to pull arrows out of the targets so they can start again, he says, ] Those ghosts. The dead ones. Were they from the war?
no subject
[A poor attempt at a joke. He knows what he's asking. He had hoped that Bastien hadn't seen the dead bodies, but clearly not. Edgard doesn't look at Bastien and fiddles with his bow.]
Yes. No. Well--one of them.
[He breathes in and hold his bow close, disarmed without an arrow now. He runs his fingers along it, trying to stay steady.]
no subject
One of them was from the war, or one of them was not?
no subject
He can't help it.]
Careful, don't want to drop that. They don't seem it, but can be delicate.
[He hopes for a moment that maybe he's successfully changed the subject, but no. He shrugs.]
One was from the war. Or, directly anyway. 's all from the war in some way or another.
no subject
Otherwise, he only tilts his head, waiting patiently for Edgard to explain himself further. ]
no subject
Rayan. He was a soldier with me.
[Even saying the name fills him with a hot shame. He shoves it down and turns from Bastien to pull an arrow out of a target. It takes some tugging, it's stuck tight.]
This one was one of yours. [He says referring to the arrow.] Don't know if you killed the target, but it's seriously injured. [At this he turns back to Bastien, grinning now.]
no subject
You don't want to talk about it.
[ Obviously. ]
Just tell me enough for me to know I don't need to report it to anyone.
[ To Flint, he means, or Yseult. ]
eek face, sorry mj
What are you concerned about? That I make a habit of chopping off people's heads?
[He wants to cry and this makes him angrier and instead of going inward it goes outward at Bastien.]
Was ordered to. Told that I had to prove that I was a good little soldier, so I did it and then I decided to not be a good little soldier anymore.
So report that! Tell them I followed orders and killed an innocent man and then I deserted. Tell them that's why I don't follow orders anymore unless I know why I'm following them and they make sense to me.
[He doesn't add the questions that are always there: was he right? was he wrong? He shuts his mind to that and doesn't let it in. He folds his arms and looks Bastien in the eye now.]
If you're concerned I might report anything about you, wouldn't dream of it.
[This is said with great resentment.]
forgot to say you SHOULD BE :,( (jk)
But he isn't trying to play him, so Bastien doesn't disguise his unflappable absence of hurt or alarm at the response. He only tilts his head, face still, eyes thoughtful with a touch of regret, while Edgard explains. ]
They know about me.
[ He doesn't smile, because Edgard is so miserable, but there's a self-deprecating sort of twist to his mouth for a moment, for a private thought. ]
I'm sorry that happened to you. And to him. None of it should have—the whole war. It was bullshit.
no subject
Bullshit. [He spits and it's unclear whether it's an agreement or indictment, but it's quieter than before.]
So, they know. Wouldn't have reported if they didn't.
[The last bits of anger sputters out and Edgard squats down to grab the dropped arrow and stays down.]
Maybe that's wrong. How should I know what's right? It doesn't matter, it's always wrong. It's bullshit.
no subject
Some things are right.
[ He puts a hand on Edgard's shoulder. He is drifting, slowly, toward hugging him. Eventually. After a few silent vibe checks to see if he's allowed. The hand on the shoulder is the first one. ]
They have been hard for me to find, too, but I think this is one of them. Riftwatch.
hand to heart
Hope so. [His tone is quieter now.] Trying to make up for-- [He shrugs and scoots a little closer to Bastien and then looks him in the eye and speaks directly.]
Not going to hurt anyone...innocent like that again. Not on purpose. Hope not on accident either but--
[But who can say what will happen? Edgard doesn't trust his own judgement and why should anyone else? He feels a wave rising and he takes a deep breath, pushing it down and away.]