[ He'd have been a terrible officer and an even worse father, if he didn't know these things happened on a curve, if he didn't give her the patience he'd once been granted. Then, admittedly, it was a different matter, and he's patient as once he'd needed.
( Still needed it, he knew, he just couldn't afford it )
So he lets her sit with enough space to be comfortable. The hum is there, because it's wrapped around him like an itch dried out skin from salt water. Absently, his hands settle in his lap and he rubs his thumb over the mark in a faint comfort. ] Void. You're hearing it. [ he clears his throat, not sure if she knows what that meant as he takes it back. His hands are almost reverent as he sets it down. But absent, like he can't quite help how he lingered on it. ] It's a little hard to explain.
[She's still troubled by the hissing whispers, and after the horrific day she'd had yesterday, everything seemed threatening and dark. Something about the relic had disturbed her deeply, and it wasn't just the whispers; and yet, she'd been reluctant to give it back to Corvo.]
[She doesn't miss the way he caresses the item, or the way his gaze lingered on it, even after he'd set it down. Not for the first time, she finds herself worrying about Corvo, and wanting to help him, even though she had no idea how.]
Yes. A realm, is the other way I've heard it put. You can't exactly visit it. [ He leans back a little, eyes up as he thinks on it, trying to put it from his place. That uncomfortable -- yet familiar, now -- swell of cold that comes like it knows it's being spoken of. It comes so readily under his fingertips now, when it had seemed so foreign before. ] There is one who speaks for it but, it is always... hungry, I think. It consumes everything.
[Terra shivers and wraps her arms around herself. The more she heard of Corvo's relic and this Void place, the more frightened it made her, and her worry for him only increases.]
It sounds horrible. Is that where your magic comes from?
[ She'd be right to, and the recoiling in the end, is what he wants. She needs to understand at least to know why no matter what she became, those little cuts, were just that. Little cuts. ]
Yes. I was marked with it, when... the black eyed one first visited me. After I escaped jail. I do not think I would have the strength to be talking with you if he did not. [ He's not much for reaching out, outside of Emily, and before her, Jessamine, physical contact was a thing marked the rules of society. Careful and structured. But he's not seeing that, or a woman capable of awful things. He just sees a very scared girl, horrified at herself.
He's hesitant, but he lifts his hand to take her own briefly. Much smaller under his and he gives a rough squeeze, the same comforting gesture he must have done a hundred other times before. ] I promise you this much Terra, whatever you are capable of, it is not better or worse than the thing I can do.
Marked with it? [She can't hide how scared that makes her.] Corvo, what...!
[Terra's words are cut off as he takes her hand in his, a gesture that surprises her - and sends a pang of heartfelt fondness for him through her heart. It all seemed so strange. This man, whom she'd not been afraid of at first, even with his frightening mask, even though all reason had said she should be terrified of him, had become someone she trusted and cared for. After attacking him, after ripping her claws - her horrible, terrifying claws - through his arms, he should be refusing to deal with her at all. And yet here he was, offering her comfort, and support, and camaraderie.]
[The rough squeeze is met with one of her own, much stronger and less willing to let go. Her fingers intertwine with his and she all but clings to his hand like a drowning victim might cling to her only lifeline. It's some time before she can speak, and her voice is shaking with emotion.]
I don't... You've no idea what that means to me. Thank you, Corvo.
[She's still holding his hand as the tears begin again.]
[ He doesn't answer it, because it's not a conversation he wants to have, at least not often. Doesn't want people to know what exactly he is capable of.
He doesn't pull away from her hold either, just grips back as firmly, keeping his hand in her lap. But there is surprise there, he expect her to pull away.
He fumbles a little, when she began to tear up. No one but Emily, and Jessamine when she had been too young to keep it to herself, cried near him -- or anyone for that matter. He'd protected them, then. ( that was what you used to do, wasn't it? )
He's not sure, exactly, what is best so he goes with what he knows. He shifts a little, his free arm around her shoulder and tugged her close to his side. ]
I know what it is to have the world despise and fear you for what was never your fault.
[He had no way of knowing it, but those words cut through straight to the center of Terra's being. Along with the way he - not quite, but nearly - hugged her to him, it completely undid her. She turns into his embrace, clinging to his shirt and burying her face against his chest, weeping like a broken child.]
[ He's taken back by it immediately, blinking in surprise and fumbling with the strength of the reaction he didn't expect.
But the rest followed easier. It was the haplessness of Emily when she was so exhausted she wept, Jessamine desperately hiding the tears at her mother's death. His arm slipped around her shoulders and the other settled to stroke her hair gently. Cathartic in the way he'd long lost the ability to weep for much anymore, least of all himself.
He had missed being wanted for something other than killing, other than being a necessity. It's clumsily done but he kissed the top of her head gently, squeezing around her shoulders tightly in an effort to make her feel secure. The same way he had after every one of Emily's nightmares. ]
It's alright, Terra.
Edited 2014-11-10 22:39 (UTC)
no this is too much I can't deal with how sweet this is
[Years of enslavement, of being forced to do the Empire's bidding, of being called a freak and unnatural and a curse flooded to the surface as she wept. The strong arms around her gave her a circle of comfort and support that she hadn't felt in a very long time, perhaps ever.]
[She weeps until she has nothing left in her, until her wracking sobs turn into smaller ones, until all that's left are hiccups and sniffles. Still, her hands clutch at his shirt, balled into fists that aren't ready to let go yet.]
[As even the hiccups ease, she nuzzles against him with a small sigh. In time, her breathing evens out and her fists relax as she falls into the first restful sleep she's had in days.]
[ It's automatic response, in the end, that he falls back on. Watching her cry herself exhausted. His back settles to get comfortable but that is as much of a concession he makes to move for awhile. The idle comfort ceases, she's just tucked under his chin, a hand flat on her back and the other on her shoulder. If she were smaller, still, he might just pick her up, and they're both a little beyond this he knows. He cannot spare her this much compassion, this much kindness. It wouldn't benefit her, or anything else they might ask from her.
He just cannot bring himself to act on it.
There's another brush of affection, a short kiss to her forehead again when she's finally asleep and now he does lift her, scoops her up but it's not to take her far. His bunk would do -- not like he slept in it much. He twists to set her down properly. Absent habits left over from tending Emily. The blanket's pulled up over her shoulders, tucked in neatly around her. He goes to reach for a doll almost, and damn near hates himself for it too.
Grimaces, briefly, at just how easily that came back when he should be doing anything else. Teaching her how easily it is to attack someone sleeping, the foolishness of letting people so close into proximity. Sits on the edge of the bunk with his arms braced on his knees, watching her for awhile there. Wade was right, he wasn't doing himself any favours, had no business playing hero or father or whatever else this was, he was only getting himself into trouble with it -- trouble he couldn't afford.
Ultimately, he does none of it. Just tugs down the privacy curtain so that she could rest probably, for the first time since Jasper died. Later maybe, but enough for the time being. ]
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( Still needed it, he knew, he just couldn't afford it )
So he lets her sit with enough space to be comfortable. The hum is there, because it's wrapped around him like an itch dried out skin from salt water. Absently, his hands settle in his lap and he rubs his thumb over the mark in a faint comfort. ] Void. You're hearing it. [ he clears his throat, not sure if she knows what that meant as he takes it back. His hands are almost reverent as he sets it down. But absent, like he can't quite help how he lingered on it. ] It's a little hard to explain.
no subject
[She's still troubled by the hissing whispers, and after the horrific day she'd had yesterday, everything seemed threatening and dark. Something about the relic had disturbed her deeply, and it wasn't just the whispers; and yet, she'd been reluctant to give it back to Corvo.]
[She doesn't miss the way he caresses the item, or the way his gaze lingered on it, even after he'd set it down. Not for the first time, she finds herself worrying about Corvo, and wanting to help him, even though she had no idea how.]
no subject
Yes. A realm, is the other way I've heard it put. You can't exactly visit it. [ He leans back a little, eyes up as he thinks on it, trying to put it from his place. That uncomfortable -- yet familiar, now -- swell of cold that comes like it knows it's being spoken of. It comes so readily under his fingertips now, when it had seemed so foreign before. ] There is one who speaks for it but, it is always... hungry, I think. It consumes everything.
no subject
It sounds horrible. Is that where your magic comes from?
no subject
Yes. I was marked with it, when... the black eyed one first visited me. After I escaped jail. I do not think I would have the strength to be talking with you if he did not. [ He's not much for reaching out, outside of Emily, and before her, Jessamine, physical contact was a thing marked the rules of society. Careful and structured. But he's not seeing that, or a woman capable of awful things. He just sees a very scared girl, horrified at herself.
He's hesitant, but he lifts his hand to take her own briefly. Much smaller under his and he gives a rough squeeze, the same comforting gesture he must have done a hundred other times before. ] I promise you this much Terra, whatever you are capable of, it is not better or worse than the thing I can do.
no subject
[Terra's words are cut off as he takes her hand in his, a gesture that surprises her - and sends a pang of heartfelt fondness for him through her heart. It all seemed so strange. This man, whom she'd not been afraid of at first, even with his frightening mask, even though all reason had said she should be terrified of him, had become someone she trusted and cared for. After attacking him, after ripping her claws - her horrible, terrifying claws - through his arms, he should be refusing to deal with her at all. And yet here he was, offering her comfort, and support, and camaraderie.]
[The rough squeeze is met with one of her own, much stronger and less willing to let go. Her fingers intertwine with his and she all but clings to his hand like a drowning victim might cling to her only lifeline. It's some time before she can speak, and her voice is shaking with emotion.]
I don't... You've no idea what that means to me. Thank you, Corvo.
[She's still holding his hand as the tears begin again.]
no subject
He doesn't pull away from her hold either, just grips back as firmly, keeping his hand in her lap. But there is surprise there, he expect her to pull away.
He fumbles a little, when she began to tear up. No one but Emily, and Jessamine when she had been too young to keep it to herself, cried near him -- or anyone for that matter. He'd protected them, then. ( that was what you used to do, wasn't it? )
He's not sure, exactly, what is best so he goes with what he knows. He shifts a little, his free arm around her shoulder and tugged her close to his side. ]
I know what it is to have the world despise and fear you for what was never your fault.
no subject
no subject
But the rest followed easier. It was the haplessness of Emily when she was so exhausted she wept, Jessamine desperately hiding the tears at her mother's death. His arm slipped around her shoulders and the other settled to stroke her hair gently. Cathartic in the way he'd long lost the ability to weep for much anymore, least of all himself.
He had missed being wanted for something other than killing, other than being a necessity. It's clumsily done but he kissed the top of her head gently, squeezing around her shoulders tightly in an effort to make her feel secure. The same way he had after every one of Emily's nightmares. ]
It's alright, Terra.
no this is too much I can't deal with how sweet this is
[She weeps until she has nothing left in her, until her wracking sobs turn into smaller ones, until all that's left are hiccups and sniffles. Still, her hands clutch at his shirt, balled into fists that aren't ready to let go yet.]
[As even the hiccups ease, she nuzzles against him with a small sigh. In time, her breathing evens out and her fists relax as she falls into the first restful sleep she's had in days.]
casually makes it worse
He just cannot bring himself to act on it.
There's another brush of affection, a short kiss to her forehead again when she's finally asleep and now he does lift her, scoops her up but it's not to take her far. His bunk would do -- not like he slept in it much. He twists to set her down properly. Absent habits left over from tending Emily. The blanket's pulled up over her shoulders, tucked in neatly around her. He goes to reach for a doll almost, and damn near hates himself for it too.
Grimaces, briefly, at just how easily that came back when he should be doing anything else. Teaching her how easily it is to attack someone sleeping, the foolishness of letting people so close into proximity. Sits on the edge of the bunk with his arms braced on his knees, watching her for awhile there. Wade was right, he wasn't doing himself any favours, had no business playing hero or father or whatever else this was, he was only getting himself into trouble with it -- trouble he couldn't afford.
Ultimately, he does none of it. Just tugs down the privacy curtain so that she could rest probably, for the first time since Jasper died. Later maybe, but enough for the time being. ]