crushed_pearls | Come Sail Away IC Inbox

"...Your father was the one killed to give cause for war." A statement, simple, comprehending. "And ever since then you've had to listen to the vermin who did that to an entire people, who orphaned a generation, hold it up as if it brought glory to your nation."

A small sip of her tea.

"...I will need to apologize to Dedue. I was cruel earlier without knowing."

"Yes. You were." For once Dimitri doesn't try to equivocate.

"Duscur was our neighbor. Smaller. Less martial. It wasn't a war, it was a massacre." Dimitri's knuckles whiten on his elbows. "I know my father's killers did not belong to Duscur. But the greedy and the grieving swallowed the lie readily. My witness was dismissed. They wanted vengeance, and they claimed it in the blood of innocents."

Dimitri grinds his knuckles into his eyes. His head's starting to pound.

"And with my father dead, every ambitious minor lord began squabbling for power. My uncle the regent did nothing. And the people who weren't drafted into their skirmishes began to starve and freeze, and they turned to raiding and banditry to survive, and Faerghan justice would say they deserve death for that. And yes, some of them learned true cruelty, but if they changed once, can't they change back? Doesn't the true guilt lie with the lords who failed them? And -- " He sucks in a breath -- "When I was fifteen I was sent to fight against an uprising in the west. I recognized their general from the massacre. His spear pierced my guts and I clawed my way down it to crush his beating heart in his chest and I don't regret it, but only the Goddess knows how many poor bastards I tore apart on the way to him. Dozens, I think, whose only crime was taking their pay from the wrong lord. Because I wanted vengeance, and found them worthy targets. Because I hated, and they were in my way, I enjoyed killing them. And I face no consequences, because it was war, and I'm a prince. How is that right? How -- "

Pain stabs back through his eye, fierce enough that he flinches, broken on a gasp.

" ... I have to believe," he croaks, "that we can be better. Or I live in a world where the massacre in Duscur was justified. Where parents and children and elders can be slaughtered in their beds without consequence. Where my people deserve death for being cold and hungry and afraid. Where I'm the one who's strange, and wrong, and foolish, for being horrified by all this. And I couldn't bear a world like that." He sniffs and scrubs the back of his hand across his eyes. "If we can be better -- then there may be some hope for me. If Erin Peters can change -- so can I."

Edited 2022-11-21 17:50 (UTC)

Erin says nothing for a long while. Doesn't move, doesn't reach for her drink. She sits with Dimitri's words and turns them over in her mind. She acknowledges the surge of overwhelming, murderous rage she feels at the people who did this to him and then sets it aside; it's not helpful right now. Maybe one day if the ship stops by Faerghus there can be such a slaughter as the world has never seen, but...no. Not now.

When she finally speaks up her voice is very quiet: "There is a question I would like to ask you. It is not a kind question, Dimitri. I might go so far as to say it will be an act of cruelty. But...I suspect you need to hear it."

Erin digs into her belt pouches and takes out her stopwatch. She sets it for five minutes but does not turn it on.

"If you're willing to hear this question I want you to seriously consider it before you say anything about it. May I ask?"

Dimitri eyes the timer. "Perhaps," he says slowly. "But that isn't why I spoke. This conversation isn't about me. I told you these things because I want you to understand -- and to help myself understand -- why I believe you should live. Even if it were my place to claim vengeance -- " He twitches, flinches, forces his thoughts back into line. " -- I believe I would feel the same."

He looks up. There's no eye contact to make, which makes it easier to fix his gaze on Erin's blindfold.

"You chose to be better. That's the world I want. What would punishing you accomplish now? Why should you be killed at the very moment you choose to do the right thing? What would that mean to anyone else struggling with that choice?

"People can't be better if they're never given the chance. Your Arthur gave you that chance, and I -- I am glad that he did. I am glad to have met you, Erin Peters."

Dimitri's gaze drops. He wraps his hands around the mug, fingers laced so his skin barely brushes the ceramic. Quietly, he adds, "I would have liked to meet Arthur. He sounds like someone I could learn from."

A soft and distant smile breaks across Erin's face. "Arthur's an Ogre. You may recall me mentioning them before. He can grow a mighty skin of stone that can stop blades in their tracks and turn aside bullets; I saw him in battle with one of the gods of nightmare, the very day he gave me my choice, and his protection gave even her pause. But before he became a thing of violence and might, he was an engineer; he designed bridges and pipes, built vast systems whose purpose was solely to help real people live their lives in comfort - to bring them water, to connect their communities, to light their homes or keep the stink of factories away from their beautiful neighborhoods. Arthur's a very thoughtful man, whose idea of being a mighty and just king was not simply to defend the innocent, but to leave behind a system that might ease the life of his subjects and all kings to follow, to create the machinery of governance which might bend his home towards compassion even without his hand to operate it."

"You say you could learn from him, but you just told me the same thing he said, when I spat his mercy in his face in my grief and demanded to know why I wasn't dead. You don't give yourself enough credit, Dimitri."

A thorny snare tightens around Dimitri's throat. "I don't know if I can accept that compliment," he manages, his voice thick. "But in the spirit it was given -- thank you."

"You'll see, in time. This is a good community. The people here have so much to offer. Maybe you'll never be king; so many of us are from worlds that did away with kings, and are happier for it. But someone used to the view from on high, who can see what people are all together? That's a rare skill. In times of trouble what you've learned will be a blessing."

The timer sits on the table. Waiting.

"I think mine would be better off," Dimitri mutters. His gut wrenches. It's never been more than a half-thought, a feeling unformed and carefully avoided -- he couldn't even put it to words, when his own mind isn't exactly private, let alone give it voice. But it's lurked there nonetheless, persistent, because -- "No one life should ever be worth that much."

He takes another, longer look at the timer, then shakes his head. "I'd like to hear what you have to ask me, but ... not now. I stand by what I've said to you, and I will, but it's ... hard to retain focus, in the face of the morals I was raised with." The world's beginning to warp around him, slippery and uncertain, whispers creeping in at the edges, and it takes all his strength to dig his nails into the path he's chosen. "Another time. When things have settled." And when he can think more clearly.

Edited 2022-11-25 22:08 (UTC)

Erin nods softly. "I'll hold you to it, Dimitri. If my advice is any good right now, I would find a friend to be with. If...if our business here is settled, I'm going to go do that myself."

The timer is taken back, and put away.

Dimitri's tea has long since gone cold. His sigh riffles the pale surface as he pushes himself to his feet. "Thank you. I'm sorry the Captain did this to you. I'm sure I'm not the only one with questions, and I can't imagine how hard it would be to face all at once." Not that it should be easy, but. "I will defend you, if it comes to that, and your choice to do better. It may be unfair of me, but -- I'd ask that you do the same. Or at least rely on those who will."

Erin shakes her head. "I'm not going to lay down to die, but I'm not going to raise my hand to the people here, Dimitri. And I'm going to explicitly, without ambiguity, tell you that I don't want you defending me with anything harsher than words. There's no practicality you can put on this table that justifies letting you put yourself in harm's way for me."

Erin stands, with a sad little smile. "...You're not my prince or my king. Here you get to be a boy, at long fucking last, and in that world I'm supposed to defend you."

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