lucetilogs | (no subject)

It wasn't that loud! Just a bit high-pitched at the end. Besides, Ed is right. Most of the house is here anyway.

Capell moves into the living room, leaving the sheet behind fortunately. He notes Sigmund's disheveled appearance and a worried look crosses his face.

"Edward's right." As much as he wants to continue this reunion, it wouldn't do for Sigmund to keel over the moment he's gotten back because they wouldn't let him rest.

Move him to a bed? He is not that o- ... He is not so frai- ... He is perfectly comfortable on the couch, thank you very much, which he demonstrates by very deliberately putting his feet up and staring at them both imperiously. "I don't intend to sleep now."

Actually, that reminds him of something. He glances at Edward. "I was annoyed with you." Like he's saying 'oh, I borrowed your pen,' or 'that's right, you were there yesterday.' "I'll remember why later, no doubt."

"Wh- my lord!" He has to bring that up now, after his long absence, when he doesn't even remember? How cruel. Edward wilts a little, glancing sidelong at Capell as if seeking some sort of divine intervention. Which... wouldn't be helpful because Capell is about as far from a god as one can get. But hey, he'll take what he can get. Help?

Capell shrugs at Edward. What can he do? Cart Sigmund off to bed? That would probably not end as well as when he carried Aya through the woods. At least, Sigmund is sitting down and for now that's good enough. Stifling a yawn, Capell takes a seat on the couch next to Sigmund.

"Well, I'm glad that you're back." He'd begun to worry that they would just send him home, but Sigmund is here and seems to be in one piece. Everything is right again.

Edward may as well join the party, because clearly they are not going anywhere for a while.

"I had more cause to worry about you than you had to worry about me."

...Well. All for one, apparently. Edward glances at them both, then shifts to settle on the closest chair, not wanting to cram the couch too much, but wanting to remain close, anyway. He does need to apologize for his behaviour still, but... when Sigmund has a clear head. Then he can be as angry as he likes and punish Edward appropriately. More importantly, at least half of what he has to say isn't for Capell's ears.

"You... missed very little, my lord. And we're all fine and healthy, so... don't be concerned with us." He glances sidelong at Capell; he'd been drafted, yes, but does Sigmund really need to worry about that? It's after the fact, anyway.

"Right, everything is fine." He's quick to back up Edward.Fortunately, any evidence that he'd been drafted has already faded away. And Sigmund was the one away for weeks going through cruel experiments; they obviously have the rights to worrying more.

Edited 2011-03-29 02:00 (UTC)

Sigmund gives them an appraising look. Edward and Capell are not convincing liars. It's the shifty eyes and the guilty expressions. They really ought to think twice before fibbing to a master of deception and misdirection... but he'll let it slide.

"They couldn't torture me. You might have gotten lost and starved." Whether that's a comment on Edward's death penalty, or just Capell's sense of direction, he's not saying. Instead, he stretches his legs out and rolls one ankle until it pops. Loudly. "Though I don't know how long I've been gone."

"Forty-nine days, my lord." Edward pauses, realizing belatedly that counting the days must seem pretty obsessive, even for him. A ballpark figure would have been a lot less weird. ...But whatever, he couldn't help it! And they're fine regardless of what Sigmund's worrying about, so. Case closed, in his mind.

Starved? Lost? He can navigate just fine thank you! Get lost one... a few times and then you're forever branded directionally challenged.

Forty-nine days? Capell hadn't been keeping that close of a count, which was probably a good thing.

"They didn't have to be torturing you for us to worry."

Forty-nine days. That's rather... precise. Sigmund studies Edward silently for a few moments, lips pursed and expression guarded, before he turns his attention to Capell. He squeezes his shoulder in - what he hope is - a comforting manner.

"I'm alright."

Edward shifts uncomfortably, glancing away from Sigmund's scrutiny. He's really not sure what to say about all of this; his behaviour before Sigmund's kidnapping had been so far beyond unacceptable it was impossible to describe, and that makes him feel both guilty and nervous about speaking up. And while Sigmund claims to be alright, his faltering memory is an obvious contradiction to that. It leaves Edward in the difficult position of having to apologize for something he can't say in front of Capell, when Capell is right there and Sigmund doesn't even remember. And he has no idea when Sigmund will remember, which means he can't anticipate when the best opportunity to apologize will be. And Sigmund would probably rather spend his time with Capell anyway.

...In short, Edward is very Lost In Thought for a while.

What is this tension in the air? He looks back and forth between the two of them. Well, no, perhaps he doesn't really want to know.

Finally, he just settles on giving Sigmund a skeptical look. Those two can sort out their problems without him, but he can't believe the Malnosso sent Sigmund back without doing anything. While, it's a comfort to have Sigmund home, he doesn't want to find out later that some horrible side-effect had been inflicted on him.

"I didn't intend to wake you."

He really didn't intend to wake Capell, that much was true, but once Capell was up he couldn't pass on the chance to just sit with him for a few minutes and assure himself that he's fine. The memory of his birth, his abandonment, their meeting in Graad woods, Capell cutting the chain, Vesplume Tower... They're all equally prominent in Sigmund's mind, and with them, the pressing need for Capell to be safe. But he is safe, he's here now, and he was dragged out of bed by Edward's shouting. Which means bed is probably the best place for him to be.

The hand that was on Capell's shoulder slides down to his back, to give him a gentle push in the direction of off-the-couch-and-back-to-sleep.

"Go. Edward will help me clean up."

Capell starts to argue that he should stay, but bites back his argument. Tomorrow will be soon enough to see him and perhaps it would be best to let them alone. Besides, if it's Edward, Sigmund is in good care.

"I'll... see you in the morning."

With one last look at Sigmund and a nod to Edward, Capell pads back to his room, picking up his stray sheet along the way.

Edward waits for Capell to leave, hands clasping tightly together in his lap. As soon as he feels his friend is out of hearing range, he ducks his head, eyes clenching. Waiting any longer would just be wrong.

"My lord, I... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for the horrible way I treated you before you were taken! I... was not myself!" Even if Sigmund doesn't remember clearly, or things are mixed up- he has to apologize. He'll apologize again and again, as much as it takes. He knows he can't just fix it with words, either.

What a mess.

Sigmund meets Edward's outburst with all the dignity and calm he can muster, which is a considerable amount. When Edward seems quite finished, he leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs, and fixes him with an intense stare. "If you must apologize, remind me of the reason."

With a surprised blink that is very nearly a double-take, Edward ducks his head slightly, nodding. Of course, of course. He should explain. "It was... an experiment, my lord, as far as I'm aware. My affections were- ...drawn elsewhere. I said terrible things to you, and it's unforgivable! I will accept any punishment you see fit to give me..."

"Hm." Sigmund stares at the floor, sifting through his mind to find the incident Edward speaks of. It would be a simple task, but for the fact that no memory seems to be connected to another - they all simply... exist; isolated, encapsulated incidents without proper context - and his memory is vast. They could be sitting in silence for several minutes.

He knows this has happened to him before... after the lunaglyph, yes. That feeling of knowing everything, and understanding nothing. Of being.... displaced in his own mind. It's a disquieting thought, but it also gives him the confidence and will he needs to find the moment he's looking for instead of getting lost in all of it. It doesn't matter. It will pass.

Finally, he finds the memory he's searching for. ...Well it isn't exactly one of Edward's finer moments, but at the same time... Sigmund knows Edward has always been like this, just... not to him. This is how Edward is, to people he doesn't lo-... care f-... worsh- Why did Edward always have to come and complicate the few things left that should be simple in Sigmund's life? He closes his eyes and sighs.

"Apologize for your actions, Edward. Not for your affections."

Edward had waited quietly as Sigmund thought it over, unsure of whether or not to continue speaking or wait it out. Afterwards, he's glad he did wait; apparently Sigmund had needed that time to give it thorough consideration.

When Sigmund finally spoke, it wasn't what Edward had expected at all. Feeling chastised again, he nods agreeably, keeping his head bowed. "Of course, you're right... it is my actions that were inexcusable. Even if I didn't feel that way, there was no reason for me to treat you so appallingly. My respect for you runs much deeper than that! I don't understand... I don't know what I was thinking at all. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my lord..."

Really, there weren't enough apologies in the world to fully convey just how sorry he is. It's a terrible feeling, this guilt.

"There is no reason to treat anyone so appallingly. Your behavior reflects poorly on me."

Sigmund's expression is slightly drawn, the downturn-pull of his lips and the furrow of his brow a perfect specimen of confused, paternal disappointment.

"I expect better of you - towards everyone." He pauses, and reconsiders. That sounds harsher than warranted. When he next speaks, his voice is warmer, less stern. "Will you try? For me?"

There isn't really an answer for that that doesn't sound like an excuse, so Edward remains low, nodding hesitantly. It's unusual for Sigmund to take that tone with him- the harshness, the scolding, that's come before. But that request is... not something he usually hears. Orders are normal, dismissals are normal, ignorance is normal. Is it something he did? Did something change? Or has he decided that this is what Edward needs? Or maybe it's just the memories...

...he's not looking for a parent, though, so he can't really look Sigmund in the eye.

"...I'm sorry. I'll try... I have been, it's just..." Habits. Natural behaviour for him. Excuses, nothing but excuses.

"Undesirable. I admire kindness, not cruelty."

That is... true, but not at all what he meant to say. The memory of Edward terrorizing Capell, and unknowingly terrorizing Sigmund right along with him, simply floated to the surface, and the words with it.

"When I cut down that ogre, I didn't take you for cruel."

"...Anyone can be cruel, if... driven by the wrong things." It hurts to say it, to admit what could be the problem- no, that's not right either. The problem hasn't changed, it's always been him. But the catalyst, the reason behind it... is admitting that it's Sigmund the same as placing some of the blame on his shoulders? Because that's not what he wants.

...Still.

"I've... always tried to push people to admire you, to respect you the way I do. I could never fathom why anyone would treat you less reverently, after everything I'd witnessed. I forget that- that most others haven't seen what I have." And more than that- "...Most others... don't think the way I do." Or feel, but that complicates things more than he wants to get into. Keep it simple, keep it on topic. "I should have supported our comrades, not antagonized them. I know this now."

He's been trying, he's come so far since that time- since Capell saved him, opened his eyes. It's a curse and a blessing that Sigmund never had to see him fall so far, but he never saw how he climbed back out of that hole.

"I will be admired or respected on my own merits, Edward. You do not need to force them."

...Although ever since - ever since here, respect seems like something Sigmund can't earn on any merits. If it weren't for Edward... A strange sad-fond-desperate look flashes in Sigmund's eyes for a moment, and then he looks away, and it's gone.

"I should have spoken to you sooner." Blame: shouldered; and what a cozy, intimate little burden it is, compared to the fate of the world or the death of all he loved. It's a perfectly normal failing. It could happen to anyone. He might even cherish it. How perverse.

"It's not your fault- not at all!" The protest is immediate, and Edward lifts his head to deliver it, eyes widening. "The responsibility is mine. I'm not a child, you shouldn't have to check my behaviour. You have enough on your shoulders. I'm... I'm sorry for giving you another burden to bear."

It's not fair- Sigmund already carries so much. A burden is the last thing Edward has ever wanted to be for him.

"You don't even know what you want of me."

Sigmund's expression is... odd. Narrowed eyes and upturned lips, although it would be a stretch to call it a smile on Sigmund's face. There's something slightly feline about it. That particular mixture of fondness and superiority can have that effect.

"I should not have to, but I will. That's what a leader does. All of your responsibilities are also mine. I accepted them with you. I understood that. Did you not?"

"...I suppose I didn't." It's enough to make him stop and think- and maybe, in the future, he'll be more likely to do so. He doesn't know how to answer the first part, though; he's really not sure he has an answer. He'd never thought that what he wanted from Sigmund could change significantly- his expectations (or his hopes) perhaps have been altered, but not so much what he wants. The conversation is going in unexpected directions, and it's a little disarming.

And is Sigmund... smiling? Why is he smiling? Is Edward supposed to understand what's going on here? Because he really, really doesn't right now. "What do you want me to do, my lord? I... will try to improve myself. I'll find a way. But... your orders. What are your orders?"

Poor Edward. Sigmund is a strange, inscrutable thing at the best of times; and now he's even worse. Volsung's overwhelming obsession with Capell has been, for the moment, dispersed - memories fuel it, but memories are fleeting right now. The Liberator's great mission, the chains, matters nothing here. Nothing drives him. He is, for once, at ease. Peaceful. Adrift.

While Edward follows the words, Sigmund is following the impressions, slipping from the current of one thought to another. There's little else he can do, with even the recent past being drawn into the swirling confusion that is every moment in his life, at once. Just ignore it. You'll feel better when you've rested.

So he just leans back on the cushions, unbothered by Edward's ruffled feathers - he feels he must have a great many memories of Edward with ruffled feathers - and watches him with that same peculiar expression; not because he is amused, because he is content. How long has it been, since he last felt that?

"If I have none?"

That thought had never occurred to him. It's actually kind of terrifying. Sigmund, with no orders? No direction, no command, no goal? A lack of orders means no goal, doesn't it? While it's true that there are no chains to cut here, no Order to fight... there's always been some underlying reasoning behind their actions. Even if it's just to survive day by day until they find a way to escape.

No orders... wouldn't that mean that Sigmund is satisfied with what they have?

"...I'm not sure." It's hard to admit; he has his own pride, after all, and saying he's so lost without Sigmund just sounds so pathetic. Back home it was easier- they still had a goal, a reason to carry on. With Capell at the front, sometimes it was as if Sigmund had never-

Never left? No, he wouldn't go that far. He always knew. Capell was just a reminder of that loss. Here, though... it's harder to explain, and he often lacks the elegance of words to fumble his way through it. Is there a even right answer to all of this?

"If I have your... affection because I have your respect, and I have your respect because I command it, would I lose both with no commands to give?"

It's the first thing that comes to mind. He must think it often, when he thinks of Edward. The beginning of this conversation surfaces in his thoughts - or he thinks it's this conversation, anyway.

"I wouldn't enjoy that," he mutters lowly to himself, almost as though he's reaffirming it.

It seems that this conversation is destined to give him endless surprises. Edward stares for a long moment, then shakes it off, hands clasping together in his lap, nearly wringing together. Sigmund... does that mean he enjoys having someone to order around? Or having someone's respect, more specifically? And if they're talking specifics...

"Is it that you enjoy being respected, or... would you miss my respect if it wasn't given?"

He knows that if he fell behind, he'd be left. He'd always known that, and accepted it. Capell was the irreplaceable one. He knows that.

But... even if left behind, would Sigmund still think of him sometimes? Would his absence be noted, would his presence be missed?