[House 47, you just got a most unpleasant wake-up call. Namely, loud banging and the whining of a terrified canine. Sigmund has just kicked Capell's door with all of his considerable strength and put his fist through the wall in the hallway.
Because it's not Capell's door anymore.
He's not going to wait to make the courtesy announcement, mostly because he's not sure how long he's going to keep it together. As it is, even over the journal his voice has a tight, brittle quality to it.]
If you knew him, Capell is... [He won't say 'home.' He's not. Home is with him. He won't.] ...gone.
Because it's not Capell's door anymore.
He's not going to wait to make the courtesy announcement, mostly because he's not sure how long he's going to keep it together. As it is, even over the journal his voice has a tight, brittle quality to it.]
If you knew him, Capell is... [He won't say 'home.' He's not. Home is with him. He won't.] ...gone.
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chasethestars
chasethestars
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I still wanted to- [He cuts himself off, and swallows.] Edward, you should- [He stops again; but from the quaver at the last word, his meaning should be abundantly clear this time. 'You should go, or else you are going to see me cry.']
[Well, he might if Sigmund ordered him, but at this point - and considering the situation - he may actually have to disobey. His grip is tight and immobile on Sigmund's arm.]
There's a long silence, and then a soft, dry sob. And then another, and another, until they start to blend together. No tears, just a horrible breathless choke-gasping. Every so often, Sigmund jerks on his arm to try and pull it out of Edward's grasp, although not with anything near the strength that put a hole in their plaster. It's going to be a while before he has that much fight in him again.]
Edward knows. He understands. He's felt that crushing loss before, and not - he can indulgently believe - the same way that any of the Liberation Force that day in Vesplume Tower could understand, save Eugene. The loss of someone so precious, so critical to his very existence... it's heartbreaking. It can ruin you if you're not strong enough to work through it.
He has faith in Sigmund's strength, but... that doesn't mean that support isn't needed. So he sits with Sigmund, his hand steady and posture supportive, ready to give his lord whatever he needs, even if all he needs is silent company.]
Because this is not the eclipse again. He is not alone.
Ironic, that the person to support him would be Edward. He slumps sideways, until Edward is literally supporting him as well, his eyes closed, his cheek resting against Edward's arm.]
He won't leave, then. He can't. Somehow he has to stay, for Lord Sigmund's state- to find a way to bring him home, where he belongs. To be with Capell again.
To be with all of them, like it should always have been.]
Capell will do fine without me. [Proud. Fierce. And yet... still weak and diminished.] I... I don't know.
My lord... Capell is strong. We both know that well. But surviving isn't enough. To be with one's father is always better than without. You... belong by his side. I know you do.
[He should be alive- they should all be back there, safe, alive, fighting alongside one another. If they've been given another chance here, shouldn't they take it?]
You still want me to return? Undo things never meant to be undone?
...Thank you, my lord.
["Perhaps" is better than "no". And it's half of a given permission, at that. Ed's going to take what he can get.]
It may take months or years to find the means and employ them. [His mind is drifting back to his mission to cut all ties to Veros. Disappointment after disappointment, and all the time the uncertainty of whether such a thing could even be done. And here, unlike then...] And we are in a position of great disadvantage.
Many things could change between now and then. I won't make a promise I have no means of keeping. But... [If they're here that long. If the chance arises. If it is safe.]
[And he can, really; for all his grumbling and flailing and disgruntled tendencies, when it comes to matters involving Sigmund, he will submit to his lord's wishes. It's the one thing in all the worlds in which he takes no end of delight. And even if it takes them years to figure out a way to return safe and alive, he'll make it happen.
He can wait. He will.]
But then he has a thought, something that should just be a fleeting fancy, except that his mind has seized it and won't let go. It's an idea...] There is one more thing I must ask of you. I want you to make a crown.
[That's... an interesting request. Is he going to- ...a crown like Volsung's? Or something different?]
[Of course, they'd likely be unable to bring things with them, if they can leave at all. That doesn't matter. What he really wants - what he can't quite bring himself to say - is something to remember Capell by, and cling to. Hope. It's something he didn't have, after the eclipse. The world spares little of it for him. He'll make his own. He can't give up now. The truth isn't enough. He has to make it, to return to Capell what is rightfully his.
...He's lied to many, many people in his life. If he has to lie to himself to keep it together... so be it.]
And the way he said it... "if I'm to return". There's hope. And for Edward, even the hope for Sigmund's revival means it's as good as done. Determination is far from their weakness.
He nods again, ducking his head in a bow, his hand resting on his chest.]
I'll do it, my lord. I'll make it worthy of a true prince.