Stay in the box. [...] No. Stay in the bo- Stay-
[And that's when Sigmund realizes the journal already started recording while he was distracted.]
Sokka
I need workspace in the smithy. Stay out of my way. I won't be in yours.
Simon
Come to the smithy later. I need to fit you for something.
Katara
We will speak tonight. After dark, past the southern edge of town. If you are willing.
[Sigmund will not be home today until quite late, so the chances of catching him are slim. But everyone will find a neatly handwritten note slipped under their door, to the effect of "I made you something. It is in the kitchen. Your name is on the jars." And, as the notes said, there are three little pyramids of six squatty little jars each on the kitchen table. And in those jars... is pie. Portable pie. Sigmund-cooked portable pie. For Capell and Katie, apple. For Edward, venison and mutton.
...Pie.]
[And that's when Sigmund realizes the journal already started recording while he was distracted.]
Sokka
I need workspace in the smithy. Stay out of my way. I won't be in yours.
Simon
Come to the smithy later. I need to fit you for something.
Katara
We will speak tonight. After dark, past the southern edge of town. If you are willing.
[Sigmund will not be home today until quite late, so the chances of catching him are slim. But everyone will find a neatly handwritten note slipped under their door, to the effect of "I made you something. It is in the kitchen. Your name is on the jars." And, as the notes said, there are three little pyramids of six squatty little jars each on the kitchen table. And in those jars... is pie. Portable pie. Sigmund-cooked portable pie. For Capell and Katie, apple. For Edward, venison and mutton.
...Pie.]


Comments
You've a father, Katara. If he had to choose a nation, all with families of their own, over the chance that you may die... would you find it so easy to think him a monster?
My father already made that choice, and you don't have any right to bring him into this. At least he made sure that there was someone there to take care of me first. What are you trying to say, that I'm wrong? That Capell's love and trust in you is completely misplaced? I've seen how you take care of him - I am trying to give you a chance here, Sigmund, but you are making it very hard. Do you want to tell me what happened or not?
[Or do you want me to dismiss you as the monster that you - clearly - were.]
Edited 2010-12-29 11:38 pm (UTC)
[The tone is calm and quietly commanding, but in a different way to the way he usually speaks. There is a sense of great experience in his words, and of great age and weariness; and also a sense that the wavering of some moments ago is becoming a great turmoil covered over by the most superficial serenity.]
You are eager to judge something you do not understand - will not try to understand - and that should never have concerned you. You will give my - No - You will give Capell's pain the consideration it deserves, or I will tell you nothing. I did not give what I did for a girl to congratulate herself on condemning me when he would not.
Do you think I enjoy this? [She shakes her head slowly, gaze earnest and direct, but there's a certain dignity that falls over her - one of grief, and betrayal. She'd never want to see this happen to anybody. What he had done - was terrible. It went against everything that she knew to be right and good and it was a testimony to how different she'd seen Sigmund be that she didn't step forward to rectify that in his immediate pain.
She'd been betrayed before - too many times. Had the person that she trusted turn out to be something evil, someone intent on using her for harm. And she had trusted him.
She wanted to understand. But he didn't give her reasons. He hid behind things, used words like 'love' and 'responsibility' to justify murder and abandonment. Was 'listening' as he wanted letting that go without protest? If that was the case she should walk away.
But there was where he was wrong.]
After all this time, you really don't know me at all. I have never lied to you. I told you I would listen.
You started this. You called me out, asked me to speak with you, and I am still here. So finish it.
Sigmund knows that the only way he's going to get through this is to charge ahead and sweep her along. She's quick to make accusations, invent options that he did not really have. He has no trouble believing that she would gladly see Capell as a naive fool, and imagine that he gleefully sent his son to his death, if only it would make the question easy for her. It was not an easy question. Everything that happened was terrible, that much was undeniable. But some things that were terrible were not wrong, and it became hard to say that any choice was wrong when no choice was right.
So he decides to plow ahead, and get out as much of this story as he can before he needs to stop again. He will need to stop again, to collect himself, to breathe. This is hell he's putting himself through, and for what? Her sense of self-righteousness? ...For Capell. So that she dare not consider him stupid or simple. So that she dare not question him, if Sigmund would not answer. So that she dare not drag up his pain, when his father's would do. For Capell.]
Understand things as they were, not as you wish them to be. The world will not be gentle because you believe it should be so.
Though Casandra was strong, she was small. A disagreement over my bride ended in three nations at war, and heresy was a still heavier charge. I could not kill more sons so that I might keep my own. I gave the order. I sent my most trusted knight. I bid him to be merciful.
She never forgave me. She fell ill with nothing, and wasted away.
Still, my people wanted more of me. I became full of hate. I had lived too long. I had nothing left to give.
I left in secret. I fled to Halgita, to a woman I once called my friend. I had done her great wrong in the past, but I begged her to grant me one last favor. I asked her to remove my lunaglyph. She gave one condition - that I return to Casandra. I agreed. I thought they may kill me. I did not care.
The rite did not go as planned.
There's a lot in what he says that she does not understand. There had been a war because of who he'd chosen to marry? She's not sure how she feels about that. And heresy? That's right, he'd mentioned something about a god...
And then he ran away. He did what he did to preserve his people, and when he could not live with the consequences of his choice, he ran.
And she can't help remember - a cave, a storm.
"I ran away."
...and so she continues to listen.]
Edited 2011-01-02 02:00 am (UTC)
My lunaglyph was removed, but my body and mind were transformed, to that of an infant. I was sheltered in Halgita. I had no memories from before the rite. Madness took hold in Casandra. I chose to fight them, though I was young and my health was frail. Seventeen years passed.
We found Capell while traveling, mistaken for me and imprisoned. His only crime was sharing my face. I did not know who he was.
A plan was made to heal my failing body. 'Another' lunaglyph, as I hid my lack of one on pain of death. With the rite came my memories. I swore to protect Capell. I...
I can tell you little more.
[Which is not strictly true. He could tell her much more, things he hasn't told anyone, for their sake or for his; but Sigmund's greatest strength is in his secrets and he does not part with them gladly. There are many things in his life that it would be better no one knew, not even himself.]
And so much that she didn't understand. But... that explains why his chi looked like it was bent in on itself. Whatever these lunagraphs did, they must tie in directly to a person's chi.
So he grew up - again? Thinking he was someone else? And then had the all the memories of everything he'd done returned? That must have sucked.
...and he aquired a lunagraph again, after all that fuss about getting rid of it to atone? Well, that was fine with her, as self-destruction's a lousy path of atonement, but man no wonder his chi...
Still. Questions. She should have walked away when he first told her, but now it's too late - and she never does seem to do things the easy way, not for herself. For him, though, she'll start out with a relatively simple one.]
Who did you choose to fight?
The Order of Chains. Fanatics that made their home in the ruins of Casandra. Some were Casandran, surely. [Just in case she has any foolish ideas about an impossibly good, kindly, and innocent people. There were no such people, not in any world one could think of.]
They chained the Moon to the planet and claimed they worked in the name of Veros. [Claimed. Well. Some claims were untrue, and some were not.] Where a chain was rooted, the land withered and disease spread. I was the first to destroy one. I pledged my life to that cause.
...before you remembered who you were.
I don't understand a lot of what you're saying. But it seems to me like you're telling me you're two separate people, who only later realized that you're really the same. And I don't know what to do about that.
[Read: On the one hand, you're a monster. On the other, you're apparently a hero. Confusing.]
But this does explain why you lied to me, and for that I thank you.
[...probably just one of you, because the thought of thanking a father who issued the murder of his own son turns her stomach. But Capell is alive. He's alive and he loves Sigmund. And Sigmund is almost rabidly protective over him. And this isn't their world.
...but that doesn't mean she has to like it. Or him. Her eyes take on a pained, narrow cast as her headache increases along with the feelings of disgust for what he's done.
...but this isn't their world. And Sigmund is more than just that one part. A colossal, arrogant, jerk - yes, at times. But evil? ...that was a harder call. And one she's not sure she's ready to make.]
There is nothing to be done.
[Sigmund is... not as beyond caring what others think of him as he would have people believe, but he is swiftly moving beyond caring what Katara in particular thinks of him. Maybe it's a defense mechanism. Or maybe he just has his doubts that this is actually the end of the matter, though she's certainly done discussing it with him.
If there's one thing that will make him think less of a person, it's treating Capell roughly... which would explain so much about him, really.]
This matter is still private - keep it to yourself. Capell's life has been hard enough. He doesn't deserve to be treated as a curiosity, or looked down upon for my mistakes.
[Although it's not said, "so you should stay away from him" is implicit in the tone. It doesn't matter how helpful she was or will be. This has been more than enough mistrust and meddling for his taste.]
You're an idiot sometimes, Sigmund. Do you really think I care at all about your world's stupid prejudices except for the fact that they're wrong? Capell is Capell, and what he was born with or without doesn't change that. If anyone 'deserves to be looked down upon' for your choices it's you and that is what I was trying to decide what to do about.
[A pause to glare at him.]
We're not exactly friends, but I thought there was some point where we'd at least earned each other's respect, which is why you chose to tell me all this in the first place, so I thought you'd want to know. [And that same feeling of being sick combined with the contrast - that he would be so self-righteously protective over the child he'd cast aside... she's not sure if it infuriates her more or moves her heart to pity, but disgust crosses her face as she just slowly... shakes her head.]
I'll respect the confidence you shared with me [as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else].
I'm glad about one thing - that the two of you are getting a chance to be a family now. That's Capell's choice, and I respect it.
[She's not sure she would be strong enough to do that, if the positions were reversed. She's not even sure he's right to do it. In fact, something inside her twists with the wrongness of it. But she does respect it. So she's glad... for Capell's sake. You, Sigmund? She just doesn't know, but at least she's pretty sure you're not going to chuck him in the river again. That's something.
And with that she'll continue to walk away.]