[ It's fine. In a sense, she's the only reason they've managed to get this far. So, it's only fair he offers his own complete honesty in turn. ]
I'm... not certain.
[ He doubts either of them is the type of rush recklessly or casually into such an arrangement, even if their fears and hesitation stem from different sources. Still... ]
It need not change anything unless we're both in agreement. If you would prefer to put this behind us, then we will. But if it was up to me alone, I would not be opposed to the idea of... accepting change, as it were.
Is that so... I suppose it still surprises me to remember that even after all this time...
[She views him as a pivotal part in her survival as a child. He was the only one who wanted her to break free from the chains that the adults in her life shackled her with. She would cut a path. For him, for herself, and for those who suffered under the expectations of their societal structure.]
I simply do not wish to ruin those memories or, ah... disappoint.
[Especially since she looks so haunting at night in a white gown, or the way her arms and torso paint a grotesque picture of experiment and torture. Would she not make him uncomfortable?]
Disappoint? I... find it difficult to imagine a scenario where that would even present a possibility.
[ On her side, maybe, considering his lack of experience in matters like these and the signs of years better left forgotten still etched across his body... But for him? Impossible.
The woman who sits across from him is nearly unrecognizable as the child he first met, physically and otherwise, but she remains beautiful in spite of everything. Colder, yes. Unmistakably damaged and worn by cruelty, both hers and that of the world itself, yet strong and captivating. Physical interest is just one of the many reasons motivating his answer. ]
I highly doubt anyone would have much of an appetite for what goes on in a bedroom after seeing me. There is a reason I wear long sleeves even in the summer, Dimitri.
[Edelgard is not afraid of people seeing her battle scars. Not at all, and she'll wear them like a badge of honor - of pride: a monument to her survival. However the carved flesh, purpled and marred, is something else altogether.
She wonder if he noticed it, or if she was able to keep her facade up until now. Gloves and long sleeves even in hot weather. Refusal to join classmates, friends, in swimming at the lake. Other little things that she hoped escaped everyone's notice...]
[ Huh. She can rest assured knowing her facade was successful. Others may have seen through it but he certainly was not among them. Too caught up in his own head, his own goals, to pay enough mind to the specific quirks of a classmate. Even one who otherwise tended to draw his eye more than strictly necessary.
In hindsight, however... ]
Perhaps you should allow people to make their own decisions, instead of assuming the worst of them.
[ He cuts himself off with a sigh. Somehow, her taking umbrage against a clumsily worded yet genuine sentiment is almost nostalgic. In the very worst of ways. ]
I meant everything I said previously. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable or push you to show more than you'd otherwise prefer. [ An honest statement, if not a complete one. ] But... Edelgard, you deserve better than being bound by hypothetical fears.
[Hypothetical? How dare he, she thinks. He has no clue how she suffered. What she looks like. If he thinks her fears are so made-up perhaps Edelgard should show him why she fears so much.
Abruptly she stands from her seat. Her hands fiddle with the buttons of her shirt, but in the end it simply frustrates her. Tearing off her top she throws it defiantly at his feet. What use is decorum if it prevents you from proving a point?
So she stands there in a white bra that has a little violet bow between the cups. A khaki pencil skirt, and ankle socks trimmed with a lace similar to the kind that lines her bra.
Though who could spend that much time looking at clothes when the odd looking scars lining her arms demand attention. Purpled or paled skin, scar tissue with clean lines noting precision and purposefulness, and the way it has stretched over time because these are wounds from her childhood. These stand out as wholly unlike the other scars that nick her flesh along her hips or trail along her legs.]
There’s too little time between her initial movement and when her shirt hits the floor between them to offer anything other than a noise of surprise, his hands raised slightly in an failed gesture of de-escalation. He swallows back on any other reply, instead taking the look she’s clearly requesting of him.
It’s... a grotesque sight. Less for the scarring itself, significant though it may be, and more for the obvious intent that underscores each and every mark. An illustration of intentional human cruelty. Sympathy replaces surprise and horror, before both are schooled into an expression that’s not quite either. Open, warm, entirely divorced from pity or disgust.
He raises his gaze to meet her eyes. Simply—]
You’re beautiful.
[ And no less in his esteem than she was minutes or hours ago. ]
[Is it terrible of her that she felt more satisfaction from his shock and horror than she does from his acceptance? As if her bitter, scratched glass heart wanted only to say "I told you so".
Yet here he is. All warmth and support. Edelgard is not sure how to handle it. She's never had such kindness before. In fact with no idea how to handle it she almost feels angry. Angry at the world that twisted her in such a way she never learned to accept what is right before her now: admiration and love.
Soft and sweet like a summer breeze; warm like the rays of the sun dappled through a tree canopy.
Her hand balls into a fist, and her confident eyes that burned with defiance now fall away.]
Not as much as I could have been, but if that's just a pity comment I do not wish to have it.
On the contrary. There has never been a single moment, not one in our entire history, where I've pitied you. And I see no reason before me to start now.
[ It's not her reaction which dissuades the feeling. Though, certainly, avoiding the worst of her ire would be a refreshing turn of events. No, the truth is that the woman in front of him has survived. Over and over again. Her body is a testament to that fact. As if survival wasn't enough, she's also grown. Allowed herself to believe, however slightly, in the value of compromise and opening up. If she hadn't, then would either of them be here right now?
Really, it's the very opposite of pitiable. It's admirable.
He just wishes, more than anything, that there was a way to reach out and show her those same beliefs. ]
[Why is it that the words she wants to hear make her angry? Or perhaps it is not anger. Is it frustration? Maybe she is frustrated that her anger has no outlet now. No victim for which to burn with her flame. And perhaps a little disappointment, even.
Dimitri said she'd be his choice to bed, and yet she feels no heat or hunger from him? Though Edelgard doesn't seem to consider his admiration and reverence for her might outweigh any baser feelings.
To sum up? She's at a loss. Nowhere to vent frustration or grasp at closure. Unable to accept warmth and praise because even if she wants to she never learned how. Edelgard's hands ball into a fist before she reaches out with open palm turned upward.]
[ All the respect and fondness in the world isn't enough to stem the tide of exasperation he feels in the face of reaction. If he'd ever had expectations or hopes of such a moment before, having her disrobe out of fury and rebuff any attempt at kindness would most assuredly not have been included among them.
But perhaps, between the two of them, this was never going to come together easily.
He moves forward, reaching out to grasp her hand within his own. If she'll allow him, he traces a thumb across the scar closest to her wrist. A faint whisper of a touch. At odds with the steel of his tone. ]
What is it you want from me?
[ Physically, emotionally... She's free to take the question however she'd like, so long as she does not disregard it altogether. ]
[Despite the careful way he touches her Edelgard still flinches. He asks his question, and when her eyes finally meet his some time has gone by with silence between them.]
I do not know.
[Her voice is soft and belies her apprehension.]
I wished to be honest and clear the air, but I am unsure of where to go from here. And I dislike that uncertainty.
[After all her life has always had an end goal until now. First, to become Emperor, then it was to overthrow the Church, and then to take down Those Who Slither. But where is here life now? Where is the certainty? What end goal is there to this?]
[ At her flinch, he halts the movement but allows his grip to remain, keeping hold of her hand. A tether between them as they stumble their way forward through this conversation. He wants to do a great deal more, to give in to the freedom of exploration and feel each and every part she's revealed to him. From the softness of her skin to the lines of scar tissue between.
And yet, he cannot. Not until or unless the time comes when she will allow it. ]
I fear certainty may be too much to ask for when dealing with territory as uncharted as this.
[ Would having greater experience in these matters make this easier? He'd wager not. No one else is Edelgard, after all. For better or for worse, she's always had a tendency to make his life infinitely more complex. ]
But I can say, with utter assurance, that my feelings towards you haven't changed. Not in these last few minutes, nor in the years since we first met.
[ They're grown, yes. Become less... innocent, in a multitude of ways, since the days when simply holding each other would have been scandalous, but the spirit of that connection remains. Has shattered and been reforged strong enough to give him the confidence to believe they can continue to overcome uncertainty and fear. ]
Are... are you saying that you loved me, even back then? Even as you cursed my name?
[It shakes her, honestly. To think they both loved each other and were torn apart. To think that they may both feel the same now, but are unable to act because of the years between them.
Or... perhaps she's the only one unable to act. Despite overcoming so much she still feel frozen. Unable to grow beyond her place of righteous fury and rebellion. Or perhaps Edelgard is simply scared that she does not know how to accept even the simplest of affections. Stunted in more than just her height.]
In a sense, yes. I doubt I could have recognized it as such at the time, but that does not mean those feelings ever truly left me.
[ If anything, they'd only served to feed the hatred he held towards both her and himself. A sick, miserable cycle of regret and fury; all providing weapons with which the dead could use to torment him. If he'd cared for her less, perhaps the knowledge of her sins would not have weighed so heavily, compounding his need for vengeance with the sting of perceived betrayal. ]
I apologize. It's a... disturbing thought, I know, considering the wounds we inflicted on each other during that time.
[ Unintentional though it may be, he wouldn't blame her for being unsettled by the correlation between those events and their current topic of discussion. ]
No, [she says softly as she raises their hands. He holds hers, but she cups her free hand over his. Now she holds him in her hands.]
There is no need to apologize. Your breakdown was intentional. It was planned. That's why I did not argue the truth at that time. And I feel as if maybe I know how to better accept your hate than I do your affection. I am not particularly well versed in receiving it. Or even having friends.
I never thought days like these would come again after I did what needed to be done.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I'm... not certain.
[ He doubts either of them is the type of rush recklessly or casually into such an arrangement, even if their fears and hesitation stem from different sources. Still... ]
It need not change anything unless we're both in agreement. If you would prefer to put this behind us, then we will. But if it was up to me alone, I would not be opposed to the idea of... accepting change, as it were.
no subject
[She views him as a pivotal part in her survival as a child. He was the only one who wanted her to break free from the chains that the adults in her life shackled her with. She would cut a path. For him, for herself, and for those who suffered under the expectations of their societal structure.]
I simply do not wish to ruin those memories or, ah... disappoint.
[Especially since she looks so haunting at night in a white gown, or the way her arms and torso paint a grotesque picture of experiment and torture. Would she not make him uncomfortable?]
no subject
[ On her side, maybe, considering his lack of experience in matters like these and the signs of years better left forgotten still etched across his body... But for him? Impossible.
The woman who sits across from him is nearly unrecognizable as the child he first met, physically and otherwise, but she remains beautiful in spite of everything. Colder, yes. Unmistakably damaged and worn by cruelty, both hers and that of the world itself, yet strong and captivating. Physical interest is just one of the many reasons motivating his answer. ]
no subject
[Edelgard is not afraid of people seeing her battle scars. Not at all, and she'll wear them like a badge of honor - of pride: a monument to her survival. However the carved flesh, purpled and marred, is something else altogether.
She wonder if he noticed it, or if she was able to keep her facade up until now. Gloves and long sleeves even in hot weather. Refusal to join classmates, friends, in swimming at the lake. Other little things that she hoped escaped everyone's notice...]
no subject
[ Huh. She can rest assured knowing her facade was successful. Others may have seen through it but he certainly was not among them. Too caught up in his own head, his own goals, to pay enough mind to the specific quirks of a classmate. Even one who otherwise tended to draw his eye more than strictly necessary.
In hindsight, however... ]
Perhaps you should allow people to make their own decisions, instead of assuming the worst of them.
[ His tone is kinder than the words themselves. ]
no subject
Is that so? Do you wish to prove yourself now?
no subject
[ He cuts himself off with a sigh. Somehow, her taking umbrage against a clumsily worded yet genuine sentiment is almost nostalgic. In the very worst of ways. ]
I meant everything I said previously. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable or push you to show more than you'd otherwise prefer. [ An honest statement, if not a complete one. ] But... Edelgard, you deserve better than being bound by hypothetical fears.
[ Of his reaction or anyone else's. ]
no subject
Abruptly she stands from her seat. Her hands fiddle with the buttons of her shirt, but in the end it simply frustrates her. Tearing off her top she throws it defiantly at his feet. What use is decorum if it prevents you from proving a point?
So she stands there in a white bra that has a little violet bow between the cups. A khaki pencil skirt, and ankle socks trimmed with a lace similar to the kind that lines her bra.
Though who could spend that much time looking at clothes when the odd looking scars lining her arms demand attention. Purpled or paled skin, scar tissue with clean lines noting precision and purposefulness, and the way it has stretched over time because these are wounds from her childhood. These stand out as wholly unlike the other scars that nick her flesh along her hips or trail along her legs.]
1/2
no subject
There’s too little time between her initial movement and when her shirt hits the floor between them to offer anything other than a noise of surprise, his hands raised slightly in an failed gesture of de-escalation. He swallows back on any other reply, instead taking the look she’s clearly requesting of him.
It’s... a grotesque sight. Less for the scarring itself, significant though it may be, and more for the obvious intent that underscores each and every mark. An illustration of intentional human cruelty. Sympathy replaces surprise and horror, before both are schooled into an expression that’s not quite either. Open, warm, entirely divorced from pity or disgust.
He raises his gaze to meet her eyes. Simply—]
You’re beautiful.
[ And no less in his esteem than she was minutes or hours ago. ]
no subject
Yet here he is. All warmth and support. Edelgard is not sure how to handle it. She's never had such kindness before. In fact with no idea how to handle it she almost feels angry. Angry at the world that twisted her in such a way she never learned to accept what is right before her now: admiration and love.
Soft and sweet like a summer breeze; warm like the rays of the sun dappled through a tree canopy.
Her hand balls into a fist, and her confident eyes that burned with defiance now fall away.]
Not as much as I could have been, but if that's just a pity comment I do not wish to have it.
no subject
[ It's not her reaction which dissuades the feeling. Though, certainly, avoiding the worst of her ire would be a refreshing turn of events. No, the truth is that the woman in front of him has survived. Over and over again. Her body is a testament to that fact. As if survival wasn't enough, she's also grown. Allowed herself to believe, however slightly, in the value of compromise and opening up. If she hadn't, then would either of them be here right now?
Really, it's the very opposite of pitiable. It's admirable.
He just wishes, more than anything, that there was a way to reach out and show her those same beliefs. ]
no subject
Dimitri said she'd be his choice to bed, and yet she feels no heat or hunger from him? Though Edelgard doesn't seem to consider his admiration and reverence for her might outweigh any baser feelings.
To sum up? She's at a loss. Nowhere to vent frustration or grasp at closure. Unable to accept warmth and praise because even if she wants to she never learned how. Edelgard's hands ball into a fist before she reaches out with open palm turned upward.]
I suppose I should redress.
no subject
[ All the respect and fondness in the world isn't enough to stem the tide of exasperation he feels in the face of reaction. If he'd ever had expectations or hopes of such a moment before, having her disrobe out of fury and rebuff any attempt at kindness would most assuredly not have been included among them.
But perhaps, between the two of them, this was never going to come together easily.
He moves forward, reaching out to grasp her hand within his own. If she'll allow him, he traces a thumb across the scar closest to her wrist. A faint whisper of a touch. At odds with the steel of his tone. ]
What is it you want from me?
[ Physically, emotionally... She's free to take the question however she'd like, so long as she does not disregard it altogether. ]
no subject
I do not know.
[Her voice is soft and belies her apprehension.]
I wished to be honest and clear the air, but I am unsure of where to go from here. And I dislike that uncertainty.
[After all her life has always had an end goal until now. First, to become Emperor, then it was to overthrow the Church, and then to take down Those Who Slither. But where is here life now? Where is the certainty? What end goal is there to this?]
no subject
And yet, he cannot. Not until or unless the time comes when she will allow it. ]
I fear certainty may be too much to ask for when dealing with territory as uncharted as this.
[ Would having greater experience in these matters make this easier? He'd wager not. No one else is Edelgard, after all. For better or for worse, she's always had a tendency to make his life infinitely more complex. ]
But I can say, with utter assurance, that my feelings towards you haven't changed. Not in these last few minutes, nor in the years since we first met.
[ They're grown, yes. Become less... innocent, in a multitude of ways, since the days when simply holding each other would have been scandalous, but the spirit of that connection remains. Has shattered and been reforged strong enough to give him the confidence to believe they can continue to overcome uncertainty and fear. ]
no subject
[It shakes her, honestly. To think they both loved each other and were torn apart. To think that they may both feel the same now, but are unable to act because of the years between them.
Or... perhaps she's the only one unable to act. Despite overcoming so much she still feel frozen. Unable to grow beyond her place of righteous fury and rebellion. Or perhaps Edelgard is simply scared that she does not know how to accept even the simplest of affections. Stunted in more than just her height.]
no subject
[ If anything, they'd only served to feed the hatred he held towards both her and himself. A sick, miserable cycle of regret and fury; all providing weapons with which the dead could use to torment him. If he'd cared for her less, perhaps the knowledge of her sins would not have weighed so heavily, compounding his need for vengeance with the sting of perceived betrayal. ]
I apologize. It's a... disturbing thought, I know, considering the wounds we inflicted on each other during that time.
[ Unintentional though it may be, he wouldn't blame her for being unsettled by the correlation between those events and their current topic of discussion. ]
no subject
There is no need to apologize. Your breakdown was intentional. It was planned. That's why I did not argue the truth at that time. And I feel as if maybe I know how to better accept your hate than I do your affection. I am not particularly well versed in receiving it. Or even having friends.
I never thought days like these would come again after I did what needed to be done.