( He knows exactly what he's doing: Making the Almighty's own mess of their situation. They're standing in the wake of a couple of heavy admissions yet all he has are more words—the incorrect ones.
Not for the first time, Kaladin considers taking Noctis far from this place. Nowhere in particular, just elsewhere. Up in the sky, over the sea—away. Instead, he listens to his friend cry, gritting his teeth against a strong swell of overprotectiveness. It thickens his throat, and the ache sets in soon after. )
Go ahead and be pissed at me, ( he challenges, voice a barely restrained growl. ) You think that'll stop me from defending you from them and yourself?
Tell me that you should be left alone tonight, Noctis. Swear it to me, and I won't come to find you.
[ The single huff of a choked laugh isn't a pleasant one, exasperation resulting from emotions driven to a fever pitch. It forces him to realize just how tentative his hold on his carefully crafted facade has truly been since his arrival, now that the person offering him the most stability is the one creating the most conflict in him. ]
Why the hell are you asking me?
Do you need space? You want to talk now? You want me to swear anything when you're the one who needs time?
( The laugh does it, misinterpreted as a mockery. It must be designed to cut him down, as that's all that pairs logically with Noctis' following questions.
He sucks a sharp breath inward. )
I want you to stop punishing me!
I tried to apologize. I tried to talk it through. I tried to push myself past what I wanted, and you still— ( His teeth make an audible click at how forcefully he cuts himself off, disgusted by how raw he sounds.
[ Eyes shut tight in response to a shout that he wants to run from... but that's only one instinct. The other is to meet it head-on, and it's that one which is stronger with Kaladin as he suddenly braces a palm against steel and pushes himself back up. He's sore. Bruised. But it's his new friend that taught him those were feelings best felt with another. ]
Punishing you? No, don't tell me to forget it, that's bullshit!
If... if you're holding back even half of what I think you are right now then how am I supposed to be around you without thinking about it?! Do you think I'm stupid or something?
I'm the one trying to give you what you want. So if you need time then yes, I should be alone.
No! You're not stupid. I don't think that. Stop speaking for me!
( Even taking a sip of Stormlight can't help him quiet the breaths he takes now. They stem from panic, not a need for air. He doesn't have to use his lungs when infused, but even the euphoria in his chest from drawing on his spheres can't distract him from Noctis' words.
If Noctis is angry at him for taking time and angry at him for not, what's the correct choice? What does he do? )
I'm trying to respect this—you! But it's all... it's all getting messed up. I'm... I'm messing it up!
( His past relationships came to him easily. But the one he shares with Noctis—in whatever form it's taking now—will never be described that way.
Pushing his hands into his hair, Kaladin panics and cuts the connection. )
[ Their emotions reach such a fever pitch so quickly when they're put together – fire and wind, storm and thunder – that the sudden end of that call on the back of a howl of wind startles him. A breath is drawn deep as eyes rapidly search his surroundings before bringing up the implant's interface, having to see for himself that the connection was severed intentionally and that nothing worse happened to Kaladin.
It's at once a relief and a slight, too worked up to see it as more than abandonment – even at his own insistence.
But clear air and the shedding of more hidden tears – angry tears, confused and frustrated and ugly – through eyes squeezed tight join to provide some semblance of relief as the night grows colder, his own hurt given enough space that he can start to replay Kaladin's words in his head.
He's tired and he doesn't know what to do. And it's clear that he isn't alone. ]
( Overwhelmed, Kaladin lets the text rot. He's incapable of decision-making, terrified of failing to communicate again.
He hides in his room like a coward instead of facing what he's already accepted. All he had to do was provide Noctis with an answer to the unasked question between them. In wanting to be practical, to give himself time to think for once instead of rushing in, Kaladin avoided the path of least resistance: Being direct with his feelings.
Even a confused confession would have been better than their current reality. That's his fault.
Inadvertently or not, he's placed the responsibility of pursuit on Noctis. That's his fault. Why, then, is he so angry? )
[ That hour is full of self-reflection he doesn't want but desperately needs. The urge to reach back out again is powerful but Kaladin has been trying to draw a line in the sand. One he'd ignored when it was obvious he was intimately involved, and that's something he still struggles to reconcile, but re-establishing contact so soon could easily be another overstep.
At the same time, each recollection of the tone of his voice carries with it more pain and regret. It worries him.
And therefore, given enough opportunity to think about what he might say, he responds almost immediately. ]
( There's a scant difference in the amount of light he sees when he closes his. His room is almost totally black; the only source of a weak glow is the pouches of spheres tied closed on his bed.
He sits on the floor against the wall, resting an elbow on his bent knee. )
Please forgive me for my outburst I want to do right by you I've been saying all the wrong things lately
[ In his dorm. Nowhere that someone like Silco can easily find him and add fuel to the fire. Nowhere he might be able to put himself into reckless danger as a way to blow off steam.
Good. ]
Physically?
[ That question alone says plenty. ]
Yeah
But I messed up a lot today and I let shit get to me
Kaladin tries and fails to offer more comfort because he's tired. He knows Noctis is tired, too. It's not the time for a lecture on taking care of oneself when he can't stand without taking ten minutes to convince himself he won't die if he does.
Instead, he says what he's thinking. )
Eventually we won't be able to We'll be sent back home and I've spent so much time thinking about that future I know I must be practical about it About you To protect us from the pain our separation will cause
[ Words appear against a dark sky and it feels like a proclamation, the kind that makes him want to look away. But they follow him, with each blink and glance away to a lean against the rusted old tower's bent and twisted metal supports. His temple presses to cold steel, wondering if it's harder or easier for Kaladin to instead listen to his thoughts read out by some machine. ]
Yeah
[ Those words contain every truth in them, don't they? They turn his stomach and he doesn't know if it's excitement or dread that he feels. ]
I thought about that all the time but not bc I'm worried about getting hurt
I knew I had to keep my head bc there's so much on my shoulders. Yours too. People need us. And there's no version of me that's going to go back home and not do everything I can to help my people and take back my kingdom from the pieces of shit that stole it
The more I thought about it the more I knew that. And now I think about it less bc there's nothing that can make me not be that man. I don't think there's anything that would stop you from being the man you are either. You made me see that tbh
( He wishes the implant shared things with him in Noctis' voice. It can't speak around emotion as if its throat were tight. It can't muffle laughs still audible behind a hand. It can't quietly express resolve or ask him sweetly how he's feeling.
It's a poor substitute for the real thing.
When the reading of Noctis' text concludes, Kaladin calls him, looking forward to having him in his ear again. )
Knowing who we must be for our people doesn't mean we can't be scared. I... think I'm scared most of the time. ( It's a rare admission, but only because no one but Noctis has asked. He's forthright, so much more certain of the negative things he feels than the positive ones.
Except when it comes to wanting. )
Not of dying... but of losing the people I love. Before I meet my end, I'll have watched more friends be sacrificed to war.
This world has its own troubles. Despite that, I feel safer here than I ever have. I know you understand what I mean. It's a journey we're on that's separate from everything. And I've grown... I've grown so attached to it.
At the same time that he does, he also feels understood. It overwhelms him as that pit in his stomach sinks and brows furrow, as frustrated by their current physical separation as he is grateful for it. If he were there he'd struggle to look him in the eye and to say what he needs to, more competent when he feels there are fewer facets of himself to be judged.
Though Kaladin hasn't judged what others have considered his weaknesses and flaws. Only the position and privilege he maintains that others revere. ]
Yeah. Then... I dunno, Kaladin. Maybe I asked the wrong question.
[ He takes a deep breath, knowing it's a vulnerability his friend can hear, just as he hangs on every nuance of Kaladin's own verbal expressions. ]
He only thinks of stalling for time when he realizes he feels guilty that he doesn't feel guilty. It at least warrants more thought than he's currently giving it, but he ignores that, too, in favour of immediate honesty. )
No...
( Something is missing from the end of the word, strongly implied by his tone. A specificity Kaladin wants to share without committing to it verbally. )
[ His knee's drawn up onto the platform to serve as a rest for his forearm, mimicking a position he'd seen Kaladin adopt just the other night. He doesn't need to hesitate with his own answer, even if the silence in his friend's is tantalizing. ]
Sure. All the time.
I said I think about things back home less because I'm more confident in who I am and what I have to do. That doesn't mean it isn't always in the back of my head.
Liking anything here is gonna' make me feel like that.
[ The protest is cut off as he commits himself to listening to his friend, even if the apology feels untenable. And he's glad he does.
There's so much he's expected to do in service to others as a king, but far less that he's been able to offer as himself. This is something he's given Kaladin as Noctis and Noctis alone, and knows he'll remember it far beyond this place. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Not for the first time, Kaladin considers taking Noctis far from this place. Nowhere in particular, just elsewhere. Up in the sky, over the sea—away. Instead, he listens to his friend cry, gritting his teeth against a strong swell of overprotectiveness. It thickens his throat, and the ache sets in soon after. )
Go ahead and be pissed at me, ( he challenges, voice a barely restrained growl. ) You think that'll stop me from defending you from them and yourself?
Tell me that you should be left alone tonight, Noctis. Swear it to me, and I won't come to find you.
no subject
Why the hell are you asking me?
Do you need space? You want to talk now? You want me to swear anything when you're the one who needs time?
You decide what you want, and don't put it on me.
no subject
He sucks a sharp breath inward. )
I want you to stop punishing me!
I tried to apologize. I tried to talk it through. I tried to push myself past what I wanted, and you still— ( His teeth make an audible click at how forcefully he cuts himself off, disgusted by how raw he sounds.
Another restraint. Another stressor. )
Forget it. Forget it!
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Punishing you? No, don't tell me to forget it, that's bullshit!
If... if you're holding back even half of what I think you are right now then how am I supposed to be around you without thinking about it?! Do you think I'm stupid or something?
I'm the one trying to give you what you want. So if you need time then yes, I should be alone.
no subject
( Even taking a sip of Stormlight can't help him quiet the breaths he takes now. They stem from panic, not a need for air. He doesn't have to use his lungs when infused, but even the euphoria in his chest from drawing on his spheres can't distract him from Noctis' words.
If Noctis is angry at him for taking time and angry at him for not, what's the correct choice? What does he do? )
I'm trying to respect this—you! But it's all... it's all getting messed up. I'm... I'm messing it up!
( His past relationships came to him easily. But the one he shares with Noctis—in whatever form it's taking now—will never be described that way.
Pushing his hands into his hair, Kaladin panics and cuts the connection. )
1/2
It's at once a relief and a slight, too worked up to see it as more than abandonment – even at his own insistence.
But clear air and the shedding of more hidden tears – angry tears, confused and frustrated and ugly – through eyes squeezed tight join to provide some semblance of relief as the night grows colder, his own hurt given enough space that he can start to replay Kaladin's words in his head.
He's tired and he doesn't know what to do. And it's clear that he isn't alone. ]
2/2
Kaladin
no subject
He hides in his room like a coward instead of facing what he's already accepted. All he had to do was provide Noctis with an answer to the unasked question between them. In wanting to be practical, to give himself time to think for once instead of rushing in, Kaladin avoided the path of least resistance: Being direct with his feelings.
Even a confused confession would have been better than their current reality. That's his fault.
Inadvertently or not, he's placed the responsibility of pursuit on Noctis. That's his fault. Why, then, is he so angry? )
2/2
Yes
no subject
At the same time, each recollection of the tone of his voice carries with it more pain and regret. It worries him.
And therefore, given enough opportunity to think about what he might say, he responds almost immediately. ]
Are you okay?
no subject
( There's a scant difference in the amount of light he sees when he closes his. His room is almost totally black; the only source of a weak glow is the pouches of spheres tied closed on his bed.
He sits on the floor against the wall, resting an elbow on his bent knee. )
Please forgive me for my outburst
I want to do right by you
I've been saying all the wrong things lately
no subject
[ Getting a response at all is a relief. So why is his chest tight again? ]
Sorry too, my heads not in the right place rn
And we don't have to talk about it yet, that's not why I messaged you
But can you tell me where you're at so I know
1/2
I know where your words come from
( The heart, as always. Noctis never means him harm. That's why he's so easy to forgive. )
I'm in the dormitory
In my room
2/2
If I worried you then I regret not responding to you earlier
Are you okay
no subject
Good. ]
Physically?
[ That question alone says plenty. ]
Yeah
But I messed up a lot today and I let shit get to me
no subject
( Isn't that worth something?
Kaladin tries and fails to offer more comfort because he's tired. He knows Noctis is tired, too. It's not the time for a lecture on taking care of oneself when he can't stand without taking ten minutes to convince himself he won't die if he does.
Instead, he says what he's thinking. )
Eventually we won't be able to
We'll be sent back home and I've spent so much time thinking about that future
I know I must be practical about it
About you
To protect us from the pain our separation will cause
1/2
Yeah
[ Those words contain every truth in them, don't they? They turn his stomach and he doesn't know if it's excitement or dread that he feels. ]
I thought about that all the time but not bc I'm worried about getting hurt
I knew I had to keep my head bc there's so much on my shoulders. Yours too. People need us. And there's no version of me that's going to go back home and not do everything I can to help my people and take back my kingdom from the pieces of shit that stole it
The more I thought about it the more I knew that. And now I think about it less bc there's nothing that can make me not be that man. I don't think there's anything that would stop you from being the man you are either. You made me see that tbh
2/2
audio
It's a poor substitute for the real thing.
When the reading of Noctis' text concludes, Kaladin calls him, looking forward to having him in his ear again. )
Knowing who we must be for our people doesn't mean we can't be scared. I... think I'm scared most of the time. ( It's a rare admission, but only because no one but Noctis has asked. He's forthright, so much more certain of the negative things he feels than the positive ones.
Except when it comes to wanting. )
Not of dying... but of losing the people I love. Before I meet my end, I'll have watched more friends be sacrificed to war.
This world has its own troubles. Despite that, I feel safer here than I ever have. I know you understand what I mean. It's a journey we're on that's separate from everything. And I've grown... I've grown so attached to it.
no subject
At the same time that he does, he also feels understood. It overwhelms him as that pit in his stomach sinks and brows furrow, as frustrated by their current physical separation as he is grateful for it. If he were there he'd struggle to look him in the eye and to say what he needs to, more competent when he feels there are fewer facets of himself to be judged.
Though Kaladin hasn't judged what others have considered his weaknesses and flaws. Only the position and privilege he maintains that others revere. ]
Yeah. Then... I dunno, Kaladin. Maybe I asked the wrong question.
[ He takes a deep breath, knowing it's a vulnerability his friend can hear, just as he hangs on every nuance of Kaladin's own verbal expressions. ]
Do you feel guilty?
no subject
He only thinks of stalling for time when he realizes he feels guilty that he doesn't feel guilty. It at least warrants more thought than he's currently giving it, but he ignores that, too, in favour of immediate honesty. )
No...
( Something is missing from the end of the word, strongly implied by his tone. A specificity Kaladin wants to share without committing to it verbally. )
Do you?
no subject
Sure. All the time.
I said I think about things back home less because I'm more confident in who I am and what I have to do. That doesn't mean it isn't always in the back of my head.
Liking anything here is gonna' make me feel like that.
no subject
I'm sorry, Noctis.
( For all the times he's made him feel guilty. For all the times he wants to in the future. )
I... don't know what else to say.
I don't ask for much. Now that I want something, I can't feel ashamed of that. I've never gotten the things I needed—it broke me.
But if I made you realize you'll always be you... then you made me realize I'll always be me, even if I learn how to be selfish now and then.
1/2
[ The protest is cut off as he commits himself to listening to his friend, even if the apology feels untenable. And he's glad he does.
There's so much he's expected to do in service to others as a king, but far less that he's been able to offer as himself. This is something he's given Kaladin as Noctis and Noctis alone, and knows he'll remember it far beyond this place. ]
Good.
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