Oh, come now. They've plenty of pickles left. 'Twas only a bit of stealing from the rich to g-give to the rest.
[ A faint smirk hangs on Viktor's features, already looking less thinly drawn than he had at the mouth of the Underworld. The empty pickle jar is left on the shelf by the door, and Viktor deposits the tray of cakes on the table. He cannot know for sure whether his evening tour of the castle will have any bearing on the path this reflection will take, but he is quite sure that it is a great deal more difficult to be an effectively terrifying little tyrant when your subjects cannot help but laugh at you.
Now that he's asked for an apology, he isn't sure where the lines are, anymore. Viktor stands at the table, staring down at the cakes a moment, willing up the courage to move again. His nerves have him reaching into a pocket to run fingers over the citrine crystal tucked away there, as though he must hide the motion needed to work them out. ]
I... may've b-bought my way into a few rooms. Tampered with some things. [ A breath, pulled in, held. He forces his feet to move, stands beside Emet-Selch by the fire as he fusses with tea. Of course he's brought his favorite. Guilt climbs across his heart like ivy, but his voice stays steady as he jokes. ] Surprisingly affordable, the toll to nudge the direction fate leans.
[ He watches, quiet, as Hades starts and stops a lecture, then changes course. A proper apology. The ivy snaking around his ribs squeezes once and then relents, replaced by another wave of welcome relief. Viktor reaches up, clasps a palm to Emet-Selch's cheek, and stares into his eyes.
In a voice barely more than a murmur, he says, ] Thank you.
[ But he does not linger there. Slips away instead to sit at the table and stare at his knuckles, rough and dry from the cold. He's gotten his apology. That could be enough. But it still feels to him as though there is a gap, a blank space yet to be filled in. Whether or not he wants an explanation now, he deserves one. ]
It was not about... what I could perceive, p-precisely. [ Slow, steady, he goes on. ] I do not know how much you know of my travels before we met on the First. Garlean reports likely gave you a glimpse, but- I know that what I have endured pales in comparison to aught you have lost, and I do not mean to ask for pity, when I say... it was hard. It was impossibly hard to s-see what I saw, to do what I did, to fail, over and over, and still have to carry the banner. To lead those people into ever g-greater danger.
In order to... do it at all, I had to flatten myself. I had to stop... feeling. And- and when Fandaniel gave my b-body to Zenos. A-and after, my Scions, they- there was no time to think about what h-happened to me. They needed me to keep w-walking... [ His voice takes a watery, wandering tone, starting and stopping several times as he fights a new swell of pain. And then, quiet, flat, ] As I told you weeks ago, I- I stopped feeling much of anything, then.
[ Viktor looks up, brows up, mismatched eyes shining, fixed on Hades. ]
But you- you've made me feel s-so bloody much again. There is no man, alive or dead, who makes me angrier than you do. [ The words are leveled with no small amount of fondness and a shaky, crooked smile. ] B-but you also make me feel more... confident and curious and... happy, loved, than I have f-felt in ages. A-and so, when you... call my hurt irritation or- or dance around my questions, it... it leaves m-me feeling... weak. As though all of that- as though I should've been stronger. And I do not know how.
[ He stops, flattens both palms on the table. ]
Y-you did not know that before. And I- I reacted harshly. I will... t-try to be more measured in the future. [ A sigh. ] I cannot feel all of the Aetherial Sea, and I do not think I ever will. I understand so l-little. B-but I do hope that someday, when we've the time, you will t-teach me.
no subject
[ A faint smirk hangs on Viktor's features, already looking less thinly drawn than he had at the mouth of the Underworld. The empty pickle jar is left on the shelf by the door, and Viktor deposits the tray of cakes on the table. He cannot know for sure whether his evening tour of the castle will have any bearing on the path this reflection will take, but he is quite sure that it is a great deal more difficult to be an effectively terrifying little tyrant when your subjects cannot help but laugh at you.
Now that he's asked for an apology, he isn't sure where the lines are, anymore. Viktor stands at the table, staring down at the cakes a moment, willing up the courage to move again. His nerves have him reaching into a pocket to run fingers over the citrine crystal tucked away there, as though he must hide the motion needed to work them out. ]
I... may've b-bought my way into a few rooms. Tampered with some things. [ A breath, pulled in, held. He forces his feet to move, stands beside Emet-Selch by the fire as he fusses with tea. Of course he's brought his favorite. Guilt climbs across his heart like ivy, but his voice stays steady as he jokes. ] Surprisingly affordable, the toll to nudge the direction fate leans.
[ He watches, quiet, as Hades starts and stops a lecture, then changes course. A proper apology. The ivy snaking around his ribs squeezes once and then relents, replaced by another wave of welcome relief. Viktor reaches up, clasps a palm to Emet-Selch's cheek, and stares into his eyes.
In a voice barely more than a murmur, he says, ] Thank you.
[ But he does not linger there. Slips away instead to sit at the table and stare at his knuckles, rough and dry from the cold. He's gotten his apology. That could be enough. But it still feels to him as though there is a gap, a blank space yet to be filled in. Whether or not he wants an explanation now, he deserves one. ]
It was not about... what I could perceive, p-precisely. [ Slow, steady, he goes on. ] I do not know how much you know of my travels before we met on the First. Garlean reports likely gave you a glimpse, but- I know that what I have endured pales in comparison to aught you have lost, and I do not mean to ask for pity, when I say... it was hard. It was impossibly hard to s-see what I saw, to do what I did, to fail, over and over, and still have to carry the banner. To lead those people into ever g-greater danger.
In order to... do it at all, I had to flatten myself. I had to stop... feeling. And- and when Fandaniel gave my b-body to Zenos. A-and after, my Scions, they- there was no time to think about what h-happened to me. They needed me to keep w-walking... [ His voice takes a watery, wandering tone, starting and stopping several times as he fights a new swell of pain. And then, quiet, flat, ] As I told you weeks ago, I- I stopped feeling much of anything, then.
[ Viktor looks up, brows up, mismatched eyes shining, fixed on Hades. ]
But you- you've made me feel s-so bloody much again. There is no man, alive or dead, who makes me angrier than you do. [ The words are leveled with no small amount of fondness and a shaky, crooked smile. ] B-but you also make me feel more... confident and curious and... happy, loved, than I have f-felt in ages. A-and so, when you... call my hurt irritation or- or dance around my questions, it... it leaves m-me feeling... weak. As though all of that- as though I should've been stronger. And I do not know how.
[ He stops, flattens both palms on the table. ]
Y-you did not know that before. And I- I reacted harshly. I will... t-try to be more measured in the future. [ A sigh. ] I cannot feel all of the Aetherial Sea, and I do not think I ever will. I understand so l-little. B-but I do hope that someday, when we've the time, you will t-teach me.