[ Luckily, Wriothesley already has a pot brewed. A white tea, low on caffeine and lightly floral, imported just recently from Inazuma. It's been interesting getting to try their offerings--probably not anything Lyney wants to hear about, he surmises, but he won't let that dash his momentary fascination. ]
And I'm surprised the Fatui allow a mouth like that on you.
[ He doubts Lyney talks like that in the presence of his Father, but it only seems fair to poke fun. He pours both of them a cup. ]
[ Lyney scoffs for only a second before biting his tongue. The last thing he wants is for Wriothesley to get on him about something else. This back and forth... it was lighter than embers raising from a fire of hatred.
Challenging, in ways that frustrate Lyney. ]
After those untalkative operatives? I'm a breath of fresh air! [ He takes the tea with a nod. ] No one heard me my entire life, you know. Fontaine turned ears to matters that made them feel bad about their precious city. ... I say it's all fair for me to speak without holding back when I have an audience now.
[ From over the rim of his cup, Wriothesley's brows lift. For once, this doesn't strike him as animosity toward him--toward the world in general, rather. What's got him so upset, then? Something within the correspondence? ]
I can't disagree with that. For a nation that prides itself upon its 'good', Fontanians are only too adept at looking away from those of us who could use some of that kindness.
[ He only became the Administrator three years ago, and a Duke even more recently. He knows all too well what it's like not to have a voice. Some days, he still feels like he's still pulling the thorns from his heart. ]
[ He takes only a sip before that dry voice lets him pick up on something. He was taught as a budding magician to always find strings to tug on during shows, make the illusion feel real... go for moments the audience will think of long into the night.
Us, was a word that floats lonely in a sea of unheard voices. Something familiar, something Lyney reaches out to. ]
[ He places his teacup upon its plate, quiet for a moment. Is Lyney skeptical of him? Simply curious? Wriothesley wouldn't blame him one way or the other: Lyney only knows him in this specific capacity, the Administrator, the Duke. What only comprises a small fraction of his life is the sole identity by which many people know him. Most wouldn't guess at his prior struggles. His former life. ]
Sigewinne, although you might not believe that. [ A small smile. ] These days I'm better about it, but I didn't always come out of the ring unscathed.
[ But he has a feeling that's not what Lyney means. Kindness in the greater scope of things, rather--the sort that changes one's life. Saves one's life. ]
...But other than her, I'm not so sure. It hasn't all been bad, but most of it hasn't been easy, either. Even before I was a convict most people were content to look the other way.
[ Sigewinne was a conundrum â a mystery he hasnât had a single chance to understand. The bitterness of the tranq shot subsided after the flood but he still tries to avoid her. Her loyalty to Wriothesley is definitely one of the reasons.
Kindness was a blanket that was draped across Lynette when he could not save her, it was three meals a day, it was a tutelage of magicâŚ
Kindness was looking fondly at those who sees him and his family.
When Wriothesley speaks so calmly about his prior role â enough for him to speak out without any filter. ]
Did you kill the past Duke too?
[ The Knave infamously did. It was the first thing he could connect. ]
[ The frankness of the question causes him to chuckle. Even with Meropide's autonomy, he scarcely believes he'd be allowed to serve as Administrator if he'd killed the last one. One never knows, he supposes. Does he give that impression? ]
He fled before I could. [ It's the truth: Wriothesley would have done anything at the time to get his fortune back. He wouldn't have challenged him to a duel if that hadn't been the case. ] I only took up the Fortress' duties because there was no one else left to do it in his absence. So you could say that Lady Luck showed me some kindness, too.
[ There will come a time when the Knave will need to be replaced. Father has no guilt or anger at the temptation â but he will fill the role when Farher is gone. He isnât sure if he will duel her for the role or take the title when her body grows old and tiredâŚ
But he knows what awaits him. ]
But, you would have. For just cause, wouldnât you?
[ He prods only a little before sipping on his tea. The revelation that he was once a convict has him more thoughtful. He isnât sure if Wriothesley was wrong for it⌠but it wasnât him who cast judgment. ]
Iâm sure the perks of Dukehood isnât something to scoff at. Lady Luck or not, here you sit in a comfortable little fantasy.
[ Does he truly seem like a just person? Wriothesley likes to think of himself as fair, and being the Administrator of Meropide places him on a certain side of the law, but he'd hardly call himself any sort of avatar for justice. He only acted when the previous Administrator cleared his savings, after all. No other injustice sparked him to action. In that sense, he's not terribly different from other Fontanian who looks the other way. Maybe that's why he's largely let go of his resentment for the world. ]
Who knows? I had initially planned to buy my way into a better life. I was doing things his way until he cleared my coupon account in one night. Only then did I challenge him to a duel.
[ Saying it like that, it feels like it happened eons ago, not a handful of years. The interim has been comfortable--the stuff he could only have imagined as a child. In that sense, maybe he does live in a sort of fantasy. But something doesn't sit right, terming it like that. He wouldn't be here now if not for the struggles that he was reborn in. ]
You'd be right, it's not something to scoff at. I live a good life now. [ A momentary pause. ] But just as what-ifs don't change the past, titles don't, either.
[ It doesnât change the past, it doesnât bring redemption for crimes and planned attacked. Wriothesley found a path to follow, he walked down it without looking back and oh⌠Lyney envied him for it. ]
So he moved the goal post. Such is life. When you think you have somethingâŚ
[ He thought he had a family, full of magic and charm â the kind they could protect one another but it just wasnât true. There were wolves out there that little lambs and cats alike feared. ]
So, why can those born to privilege and power not look back as we do? [ We. ] Your title is all I know you as. Youâre right, it doesnât change it â but perception is quite a funny thing.
[ 'We'? A small smile bends the corner of his lip, although really, it shouldn't. They're...moving into questionable territory. There's no shame in sharing his story with any of the inmates, trading sympathies or otherwise, but...there's ease in this. Comfortableness where there shouldn't be. Familiarity. And underscoring it all, his earlier fears playing faintly at the back of his mind, where he keeps them under lock and key: that maybe he sees a little too much of himself in Lyney.
He ought to send the boy to bed. He doesn't. ]
I wonder if you'd ever perceive me as a fellow orphan.
[ Lyney freezes, his hand clasping the corner of his cup to save a brew he finds quite pleasant. It would be a shame.
The moment hangs in the air and he doesnât say a word for what feels like a century. Tired eyes⌠marks he canât hide⌠wounds on his heart he doesnât show but Lyney knows theyâre there. If heâs an orphan⌠]
You know what is in my intake forms, the inmates donât get that luxury to the Duke.
[ He has to wear his wounds in a different way than Lyney. ]
[ What Lyney says is true: his opinions of the people he interacts with tend to be better-informed than the reverse. But then most people aren't terribly interested in him, focused more on surviving themselves within Fontaine's justice system. It suits him just fine. He isn't ashamed of his past, but neither is he opposed to being truthful about it. ]
Oh? Then what do you see? A happy, peaceful childhood?
[ And in which way would Lyney like him to bend--in casual conversation, or in his duties? Here and now late in the night, or in the everyday? Wriothesley can't give him the latter, but he can give him the former.
He leans back in his chair, relaxes. Looks Lyney over. And after a few moments of silence, continues down this path he's so unsure of--this easiness, this quiet thing that grows between them. ]
Abandoned in infancy. Taken in by a 'good' family. Until they weren't. [ He offers the words placidly, free from any of the sadness they once represented for him. ] I have my foster parents' blood on my hands. They were rotten people to the core. I didn't always have control, and I wasn't born a Duke--life simply turned out that way.
[ Fontaine loves their rumors. Following trials, it spreads like wildfire. Business shared, opinions made and yet⌠this one? It was buried over time. Lyney felt a little shell shocked by it, almost betrayed in some weird way. He has his allegiances with the House but from his knowledge - Wriothesley was never among their ranks⌠huh.
The more Wriothesley talks, the more Lyney settles. Eyes shut, back to the chair and his heart settling from anxiousness.
There's a similarity, he thinks of how well people spoke of him and Lynette. Ulterior motives that he's sure Wriothesley have no clue of for his own life too. What paths they walked... different, but similar. He never got a chance to kill the ones that hurt Lynette â Father did and deep down, he is still bitter about it. ]
Life has a funny way to guide you. Iâm sure you never would have chose this for yourself, would you?
[ Another question, another echo. He never wanted to be the Knave â but it saves his siblings from being groomed or the other House orphans from being trained. Lyney took the heavy brunt of work, sinned and let his hands bloody too.
He once told the traveler all he did was fib and oh, how that lie stung. ]
Rotten people deserve to be lost to the world. Squandering chances no one has but them⌠itâs a bit sick. The land of justice turned its eyes to those who deserved it. Who are we to blame? The people, our Archon, our order? No. I blame no one, but we took comfort in people that showed us kindness and allowed us to make choices. For better or worse, that was a luxury denied from us.
Edited (REWRITES THIS BC IM ACTUALLY COGNIZANT NOW...) 2024-01-23 20:53 (UTC)
[ All told, Wriothesley doesn't know what he might have chosen for himself. Choice and the agonizing lack thereof have played their roles in his life like left and right hands. One of the grand what-ifs, a question he can only begin to guess at. What he does know is Meropide in his time as an inmate was unlivable. Something had to give. ]
Then allow me to turn the question on you. Who's shown you kindness, Lyney? Humor me.
[ Goodness knows he's said enough about himself already. Lyney likely knows more about him than anyone else in the Fortress, now. And to think it came so easily...if he's made a mistake in showing his cards to a magician, he'll swallow it down with some tea. ]
Father. She'd expect it â that loyalty burned into his very soul. A debt he owes because she saved Lynette when he couldn't. Taken in Freminet when he had no one else. Kept a house of throwaway children into a true home.
But, his words were quick, too much for his own lips. ]
Cesar.
[ He feels vulnerable. ]
Lynette. Freminet. My siblings. [ Noticeably last: ] Father.
[ Father. He still hasn't met Arlecchino, never did find a way to have that cup of tea with her. Any urgent need for it is done and over with by now, but he does wonder what insights she could give him about her darling Lyney that the boy won't forfeit himself. Or that the boy can't see for himself: we are often our own biggest blind spots, after all. ]
Oh? The same Father who sent you and your siblings here with no contingency plan to speak of?
[ His curiosities for her aside, he does have that small criticism to offer. How can he not? She sent children down to this place, then left them entirely at his mercy. Either she trusts him a great deal for a total stranger, or this kindness of hers only goes so far. ]
If I had been the cruel villain you'd pictured me as at the time, what would she have done? You weren't making any concessions back then, and Lynette was entirely in my hands. [ He doesn't mean to challenge Lyney, but he does know the topic is bound to be a contentious one. He softens his tone just a touch, keeps his manner easy. Don't turn this isn't a fight when it doesn't have to be one. ] ...Genuinely. You know her better than I do. From where I stand, I've never been able to figure out that Father of yours.
[ Lyney shifts in his seat, unable to hide how uncomfortable the topic makes him. He knows... better than to question Father. Father's request for loyalty was all she asked of them. It means something to the Knave, more than Lyney would understand. He's seen men slaughtered for slander, he's seen reputations in shambles for doubt â he wonders what would have happened to Lynette if Father was in any other mood after his 'betrayal' last month. Going off script... removing himself from her equation.
One of her children were gone and one of her operatives were unable to carry out his duties.
It gnaws at his own ego. Casts fear in his heart. ]
To doubt Father's way is to spit in her face, to slap her hand away after feeding us. She would have brought this place down to the pipes, ripped it apart for her children. I know she would have.
[ Would she...? ]
We all knew the risks when accepting our orders.
[ Lyney knows there is no other option though. They had to accept that order. ]
[ ...There's loyalty, and then there's this. Wriothesley remembers what it meant to obey his foster parents, what happened when he didn't. The things endured by his siblings who tried on defiance for themselves. He's not in the market for more avenues of comparison between them--no, he's had quite enough of those, pushes the thought down again knowing it'll rise to the surface later--and so he won't assume too much. But no amount of tea could displace the bad taste in his mouth left by Lyney's insistence. The Fatui really are an underhanded bunch. ]
That's 'Your Grace' to you. [ Said with all the urgency of relating the weather. He's not looking to heighten tensions between them--not now, when things are...simpler, for once. ] But, if you're certain of her convictions, then I have no reason to doubt you.
[ Assuming he is certain. Lyney is prone to sweetening his words when it suits him--this much Wriothesley knows, if not the extent of it--and no doubt he'd do it for someone who has him so firmly under her heel. But that's not for him to dissect, not now, over tea and late into the night. What Lyney says, Wriothesley will take. No matter how he doubts it inwardly. ]
Then, let me rephrase. [ So as not to spit in her face, as Lyney puts it. ] This Father of yours. How did she come to be the hand that feeds you, anyhow? Surely I'm allowed to ask.
[ Tension bubbles in his stomach and he hates it. Hates feeling nervous, weak. He remembers this feeling when the first 'performance' reviews came in with Father... how she scolded him to be better. To be worthy of the House. He remembers feeling this way stepping on stage, with Lynette at his side... unsure if the crowd would give them a second glance.
Two orphans, to lesser forms to the plight of Fontaine's own desperation for entertainment. ]
Your Grace. [ He repeats through grit teeth, swallowing down his own anger. There's nothing to be angry for. ...Right? Wriothesley is ignorant, in a bubble under the sea from the things he and his siblings have gone through.
He backs off but the rephrase hurts even more. It takes him a good minute to speak â legs crossed and leaning back. ]
... She saved Lynette when I couldn't. Kept men from touching her, ensured they'd never sully any other person against their will. [ He isn't apologetic about how he speaks of the dead. ] Gave us protection, care, a reason to not hate the world. Two orphans were worthy enough... to finally have a home. One built in trust, in loyalty, with food in hungry bellies every night.
[ All roads lead back to Lynette, it seems. The snippet of the letter returns to him just as he thinks it's been properly placed aside. That taken with this worry about men sullying her. These two are...close, even for twins. Such is his perception, anyway--maybe Lyney would deem that another path Wriothesley has no right to tread, and maybe he'd be right. He hardly remembers much about his own siblings. He's no brother, no protector of anyone's virtue.
What he can say with confidence is that the hand that feeds you--in a literal sense--is a powerful one indeed. Wriothesley's been hungry before. Been without. Is it any wonder the kid would risk life and limb for the Fatui? Wriothesley is only so lucky being in a position to detest the organization: had they found him at the right time and place, he'd probably have given them total allegiance, too. ]
Doubt can be a healthy thing, sometimes. [ Lyney has no shortage of it for those outside his circle, after all. ] But I can see where your devotion comes from all the same. I don't need an audience with her to ascertain that hers is a capable hand.
[ How can they not? She's the other half of his soul. The moon to his sun. His first love.
If Lynette wasn't saved by The Knave, he'd have no loyalty. He'd take Lynette far away from Fontaine â to Mondstadt or Liyue, over unsure waters to keep her safe. But, his debt to the Knave was deep. It was the opposite coin to Wriothesley in a way. What-ifs and different paths...
Oh, what could have been. ]
She wanted to stop the prophecy just as much as our Archon. As you or anyone else in a position of power. [ And of course, his admittance falls soft. ] I already disobeyed her... It was my choice to burn that cabin to the ground.
[ Privately, he's wondered about that: Lyney being here, Lyney eventually being freed. The life he'll go back to above the waves. Wriothesley doesn't make a habit of it to pry into the Fatui's affairs, but he has eyes and ears out and about, ones that have observed none other than Lyney and this family he holds in such high regard. Based on what's been related to him, there's practically no way Lyney serves his sentence and returns to nothing but warm welcomes and fanfare. In other words...what will his punishment be, having strayed beneath the waves? ]
Those who disobey in Meropide have the opportunity to redeem themselves, up to a point. [ Gently: ] What of those who disobey in the House of Hearth?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
And I'm surprised the Fatui allow a mouth like that on you.
[ He doubts Lyney talks like that in the presence of his Father, but it only seems fair to poke fun. He pours both of them a cup. ]
no subject
Challenging, in ways that frustrate Lyney. ]
After those untalkative operatives? I'm a breath of fresh air! [ He takes the tea with a nod. ] No one heard me my entire life, you know. Fontaine turned ears to matters that made them feel bad about their precious city. ... I say it's all fair for me to speak without holding back when I have an audience now.
no subject
I can't disagree with that. For a nation that prides itself upon its 'good', Fontanians are only too adept at looking away from those of us who could use some of that kindness.
[ He only became the Administrator three years ago, and a Duke even more recently. He knows all too well what it's like not to have a voice. Some days, he still feels like he's still pulling the thorns from his heart. ]
no subject
Us, was a word that floats lonely in a sea of unheard voices. Something familiar, something Lyney reaches out to. ]
Who has shown you kindness then, Your Grace?
no subject
Sigewinne, although you might not believe that. [ A small smile. ] These days I'm better about it, but I didn't always come out of the ring unscathed.
[ But he has a feeling that's not what Lyney means. Kindness in the greater scope of things, rather--the sort that changes one's life. Saves one's life. ]
...But other than her, I'm not so sure. It hasn't all been bad, but most of it hasn't been easy, either. Even before I was a convict most people were content to look the other way.
no subject
Kindness was a blanket that was draped across Lynette when he could not save her, it was three meals a day, it was a tutelage of magicâŚ
Kindness was looking fondly at those who sees him and his family.
When Wriothesley speaks so calmly about his prior role â enough for him to speak out without any filter. ]
Did you kill the past Duke too?
[ The Knave infamously did. It was the first thing he could connect. ]
no subject
He fled before I could. [ It's the truth: Wriothesley would have done anything at the time to get his fortune back. He wouldn't have challenged him to a duel if that hadn't been the case. ] I only took up the Fortress' duties because there was no one else left to do it in his absence. So you could say that Lady Luck showed me some kindness, too.
no subject
But he knows what awaits him. ]
But, you would have. For just cause, wouldnât you?
[ He prods only a little before sipping on his tea. The revelation that he was once a convict has him more thoughtful. He isnât sure if Wriothesley was wrong for it⌠but it wasnât him who cast judgment. ]
Iâm sure the perks of Dukehood isnât something to scoff at. Lady Luck or not, here you sit in a comfortable little fantasy.
[ He feels jealous, honestly. ]
no subject
Who knows? I had initially planned to buy my way into a better life. I was doing things his way until he cleared my coupon account in one night. Only then did I challenge him to a duel.
[ Saying it like that, it feels like it happened eons ago, not a handful of years. The interim has been comfortable--the stuff he could only have imagined as a child. In that sense, maybe he does live in a sort of fantasy. But something doesn't sit right, terming it like that. He wouldn't be here now if not for the struggles that he was reborn in. ]
You'd be right, it's not something to scoff at. I live a good life now. [ A momentary pause. ] But just as what-ifs don't change the past, titles don't, either.
no subject
So he moved the goal post. Such is life. When you think you have somethingâŚ
[ He thought he had a family, full of magic and charm â the kind they could protect one another but it just wasnât true. There were wolves out there that little lambs and cats alike feared. ]
So, why can those born to privilege and power not look back as we do? [ We. ] Your title is all I know you as. Youâre right, it doesnât change it â but perception is quite a funny thing.
no subject
He ought to send the boy to bed. He doesn't. ]
I wonder if you'd ever perceive me as a fellow orphan.
no subject
The moment hangs in the air and he doesnât say a word for what feels like a century. Tired eyes⌠marks he canât hide⌠wounds on his heart he doesnât show but Lyney knows theyâre there. If heâs an orphan⌠]
You know what is in my intake forms, the inmates donât get that luxury to the Duke.
[ He has to wear his wounds in a different way than Lyney. ]
I donât see an orphan when I look at you.
no subject
Oh? Then what do you see? A happy, peaceful childhood?
no subject
[ Lyney shrugs, raising the tea to his lips. He finishes it off, full gulps until the saucer was left empty end set between them. ]
Hard seeing you as anything other than this. You have control, you have a stage in a way to captivate and command.
[ To have people listen and trust him, depend on him so long as they play by his rules. ]
I think the rules are a little stuffy, but⌠you take this seriously. Itâs frustrating that you donât bend⌠everyone else seems to.
no subject
He leans back in his chair, relaxes. Looks Lyney over. And after a few moments of silence, continues down this path he's so unsure of--this easiness, this quiet thing that grows between them. ]
Abandoned in infancy. Taken in by a 'good' family. Until they weren't. [ He offers the words placidly, free from any of the sadness they once represented for him. ] I have my foster parents' blood on my hands. They were rotten people to the core. I didn't always have control, and I wasn't born a Duke--life simply turned out that way.
no subject
The more Wriothesley talks, the more Lyney settles. Eyes shut, back to the chair and his heart settling from anxiousness.
There's a similarity, he thinks of how well people spoke of him and Lynette. Ulterior motives that he's sure Wriothesley have no clue of for his own life too. What paths they walked... different, but similar. He never got a chance to kill the ones that hurt Lynette â Father did and deep down, he is still bitter about it. ]
Life has a funny way to guide you. Iâm sure you never would have chose this for yourself, would you?
[ Another question, another echo. He never wanted to be the Knave â but it saves his siblings from being groomed or the other House orphans from being trained. Lyney took the heavy brunt of work, sinned and let his hands bloody too.
He once told the traveler all he did was fib and oh, how that lie stung. ]
Rotten people deserve to be lost to the world. Squandering chances no one has but them⌠itâs a bit sick. The land of justice turned its eyes to those who deserved it. Who are we to blame? The people, our Archon, our order? No. I blame no one, but we took comfort in people that showed us kindness and allowed us to make choices. For better or worse, that was a luxury denied from us.
no subject
Then allow me to turn the question on you. Who's shown you kindness, Lyney? Humor me.
[ Goodness knows he's said enough about himself already. Lyney likely knows more about him than anyone else in the Fortress, now. And to think it came so easily...if he's made a mistake in showing his cards to a magician, he'll swallow it down with some tea. ]
no subject
It should.
Father. She'd expect it â that loyalty burned into his very soul. A debt he owes because she saved Lynette when he couldn't. Taken in Freminet when he had no one else. Kept a house of throwaway children into a true home.
But, his words were quick, too much for his own lips. ]
Cesar.
[ He feels vulnerable. ]
Lynette. Freminet. My siblings. [ Noticeably last: ] Father.
no subject
Oh? The same Father who sent you and your siblings here with no contingency plan to speak of?
[ His curiosities for her aside, he does have that small criticism to offer. How can he not? She sent children down to this place, then left them entirely at his mercy. Either she trusts him a great deal for a total stranger, or this kindness of hers only goes so far. ]
If I had been the cruel villain you'd pictured me as at the time, what would she have done? You weren't making any concessions back then, and Lynette was entirely in my hands. [ He doesn't mean to challenge Lyney, but he does know the topic is bound to be a contentious one. He softens his tone just a touch, keeps his manner easy. Don't turn this isn't a fight when it doesn't have to be one. ] ...Genuinely. You know her better than I do. From where I stand, I've never been able to figure out that Father of yours.
no subject
[ Lyney shifts in his seat, unable to hide how uncomfortable the topic makes him. He knows... better than to question Father. Father's request for loyalty was all she asked of them. It means something to the Knave, more than Lyney would understand. He's seen men slaughtered for slander, he's seen reputations in shambles for doubt â he wonders what would have happened to Lynette if Father was in any other mood after his 'betrayal' last month. Going off script... removing himself from her equation.
One of her children were gone and one of her operatives were unable to carry out his duties.
It gnaws at his own ego. Casts fear in his heart. ]
To doubt Father's way is to spit in her face, to slap her hand away after feeding us. She would have brought this place down to the pipes, ripped it apart for her children. I know she would have.
[ Would she...? ]
We all knew the risks when accepting our orders.
[ Lyney knows there is no other option though. They had to accept that order. ]
no subject
That's 'Your Grace' to you. [ Said with all the urgency of relating the weather. He's not looking to heighten tensions between them--not now, when things are...simpler, for once. ] But, if you're certain of her convictions, then I have no reason to doubt you.
[ Assuming he is certain. Lyney is prone to sweetening his words when it suits him--this much Wriothesley knows, if not the extent of it--and no doubt he'd do it for someone who has him so firmly under her heel. But that's not for him to dissect, not now, over tea and late into the night. What Lyney says, Wriothesley will take. No matter how he doubts it inwardly. ]
Then, let me rephrase. [ So as not to spit in her face, as Lyney puts it. ] This Father of yours. How did she come to be the hand that feeds you, anyhow? Surely I'm allowed to ask.
no subject
Two orphans, to lesser forms to the plight of Fontaine's own desperation for entertainment. ]
Your Grace. [ He repeats through grit teeth, swallowing down his own anger. There's nothing to be angry for. ...Right? Wriothesley is ignorant, in a bubble under the sea from the things he and his siblings have gone through.
He backs off but the rephrase hurts even more. It takes him a good minute to speak â legs crossed and leaning back. ]
... She saved Lynette when I couldn't. Kept men from touching her, ensured they'd never sully any other person against their will. [ He isn't apologetic about how he speaks of the dead. ] Gave us protection, care, a reason to not hate the world. Two orphans were worthy enough... to finally have a home. One built in trust, in loyalty, with food in hungry bellies every night.
[ That was long ago, however. ]
I've never doubted her.
[ He lies, it's what he does best. ]
no subject
What he can say with confidence is that the hand that feeds you--in a literal sense--is a powerful one indeed. Wriothesley's been hungry before. Been without. Is it any wonder the kid would risk life and limb for the Fatui? Wriothesley is only so lucky being in a position to detest the organization: had they found him at the right time and place, he'd probably have given them total allegiance, too. ]
Doubt can be a healthy thing, sometimes. [ Lyney has no shortage of it for those outside his circle, after all. ] But I can see where your devotion comes from all the same. I don't need an audience with her to ascertain that hers is a capable hand.
no subject
If Lynette wasn't saved by The Knave, he'd have no loyalty. He'd take Lynette far away from Fontaine â to Mondstadt or Liyue, over unsure waters to keep her safe. But, his debt to the Knave was deep. It was the opposite coin to Wriothesley in a way. What-ifs and different paths...
Oh, what could have been. ]
She wanted to stop the prophecy just as much as our Archon. As you or anyone else in a position of power. [ And of course, his admittance falls soft. ] I already disobeyed her... It was my choice to burn that cabin to the ground.
no subject
Those who disobey in Meropide have the opportunity to redeem themselves, up to a point. [ Gently: ] What of those who disobey in the House of Hearth?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)