dreamcrystals | XX2 Entry

Entry tags:

XX2 Entry

Sender: Beatrix
To: All
Subject: No Rest for the Weary

It would appear that I have been indisposed, though that seems to have been rectified. If for any reason, you have been seeking me, I can now properly attend to matters that were not appropriately handled before said indisposition.

That said, please refrain from entering my personal space and leaving books, regardless of the quality of reading material. Furthermore, please refrain from entering my personal space, period.

I had, prior to my temporary condition, been discussing how to better provide a defence for the town proper. As more dream walkers find themselves in this world, not only do we grow in population count, we also grow in the evolution of the town. The market, beings who are not exactly dream walkers like ourselves, yet present all the same, farming land, the coliseum in disrepair, and our other outskirts.

I would like to know if it is possible to create a defensive ward to otherwise protect Reverein citizens from potential outside threats by use of dreamotion in the establishment of wards. If we are capable of creating such things, it may also be possible to recycle or supply a consistent and constant flow of dreamotion in an effort to power said wards or barriers.

For some time, I have contemplated the ability to, for lack of a better term, 'bottle' dreamotion for later usage. If you have any experience in such matters, I implore you to share your results.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Indeed he does not get tired of going on about such things, nor does her response to such notions take him by surprise any longer. She is, as ever, quite literal, and he chuckles as he shakes his head slightly, an easy, companionable sound.]

As ever, you are quite determined to explain away any sort of sentiment on your part.

[Perhaps a bit too determined.]

Kindness is not a weakness, may I remind you. It is strength.

I—

[Beatrix pauses for just some moments as she considers how to address him. Of course it's not. Kindness is a strength. Having the ability to be kind is a boon, not a curse. However...

She clears her throat.]

I do understand that. It may seem that I do not, but I do. I simply wish to be perceived in a certain way. Things are significantly easier when people find me to be intimidating or difficult to approach. There is no need to grow close to me, to make expectations of me that I may otherwise be incapable of meeting, and the fact of the matter is that in Alexandria it is not as though I have others I would call 'friends.' Frankly, I have no idea how to be a friend, or anything else to someone. That is the way of it.

[Beatrix shakes her head and she proceeds.]

['There is no need to grow close to me.'

That was just the trouble, wasn't it? Regardless of how she may feel, that is not something someone can control. It sticks with him, but he chooses not to address it at the moment, turning his attention to the rest of what she's said— for now.

The fact of the matter is, people have grown close to her in their way, regardless of her wishes, himself included.]

I'm not certain it's the sort of thing anyone truly 'knows' how to do. I was without friends for years, thanks to my own position. It is something one learns by doing, and is never quite through learning.

[Because people, like everything else, change. They grow, and hearts and minds must grow along with them.]

Regardless of how you wish to be perceived, people have come to care for you. You cannot stop them from doing so.

I can imagine. It all sounds very troublesome.

[Again, cold of her. Does she actually believe that? How much of what Beatrix says is reflected as truth? Maybe she simply says as she does, acts as she does, to provide a ward against others. If she paints herself as unpleasant, then surely people will—

Except that hasn't really worked, has it? Perhaps she simply knows a plethora of those who enjoy getting under her skin. Or those who know better. Beatrix does, despite her ice-like approach to situations and people, exhibit moments, beliefs, thoughts, and feelings that reflect a contrast in how she chooses to portray herself. It is, perhaps obvious to some, that she is not all soldier.

Present moment in point.]

I am acutely aware of how some feel regarding me. As much as I should like to change it, I also acknowledge that I do not have that ability. It is what it is. Tell me you did not accompany me today to lecture me about such things.

[It certainly hasn't worked, despite her best efforts.

He hesitates before answering, shaking his head. He has 'lectured' her on plenty of occasions before, he supposes, but he does not intend to do so now— especially given the line he had crossed. He is in no position to lecture anyone, now, is he?]

No, I did not— and I will not.

[That, he will concede.]

I only wanted to enjoy your company, and to speak with you.

[Only will not because she's cut him off at the head of things? Beatrix puzzles, though what he follows up with is about as perplexing. Enjoying her company? It's such a Dohalime thing to say. He's a stunning example of what they were just speaking on.

Can't get rid of someone who refuses to listen. But if she's honest with herself, when it comes to him. To Oriphi. To Tifa. To Zidane. To Eustace. To Hans. To Barok. To Diluc. To... To everyone she's met and grown marginally close with, she's is thankful to have them. She values them. Their presence. Their input.

Whatever befuddlement is in her expression passes and she looses a sigh.]

You missed me. I see. [It's not accusatory. It's simply an observation.] I am not a particularly good conversationalist. For this situation, I shall do my best.

I may have.

[It's more a confession than it is coy, the corner of his smile quirking slightly upwards, just faintly sheepish. He had, in fact, missed her— more than he had first realized, it would seem, given certain whims. He'd spent a great deal pondering precisely what that meant in the days that followed.

It's entirely possible that he had overcomplicated things, but that is in his nature.]

You do not need to be anyone but who you are. In fact, I suspect I may be doing much of the talking... there is something I need to tell you, regarding your absence.

[His smile fades, his expression becoming tense, thoughtful as they make their way.]

[For something that was meant to be slightly humorous, he takes it seriously. For several long moments, Beatrix simply stares at him. Maybe... he's just teasing her. That sounds like something he would do. Maybe. In this situation, perhaps. Or maybe he's testing her. Making sure she is, indeed, the very same woman she was the last time they spoke.

The words he follows up with threaten another pause in her footing. Her thoughts immediately begin to turn. What could he possibly have to tell her? He's not in danger. It doesn't seem anything horrible happened whilst she was asleep, which she supposes is probably a good thing. What could he possible have need to say? Why now?

The furrow in her brow deepens as she considers the possibilities and finally decides that isn't the game she wants to play.]

I am listening.

[She is, even as she's perusing the variety of treehouses. Whoever comes first doesn't matter to her. Tifa or Oriphi. Oriphi or Tifa. Better if she doesn't run into either whilst they're out and about doing this. The last thing she wants is a public spectacle with her at the centre of it.]

I thought you said nothing dire happened.

Well— I would not call it something dire.

[She might, he reasons, considering how much effort she has put into refusing friendship, let alone any other form of companionship.

This, he is certain, is a delicate matter.]

I suppose that depends on one's definition. I looked in on you frequently while you were asleep... it seemed the proper thing to do. While I regret that it required me to enter your home without permission, there is enough unknown about what dreamers experience in such a state that it seemed prudent. I wanted to ensure your safety.

[But she already knows that he had been worried. That's nothing new.]

I... apologize, for that breach of trust.

[It's a start. He averts his gaze, indicating there may well be more.]

[Had she not already heard Eustace's input and knowing that Eustace himself had already been in there, it is possible Beatrix may have taken this worse. Instead, she simply nods along. Because she does understand, though she made very certain to stay away from Prince Hans' abode during his sleep. If only because she meant to be... appropriate.

There's really very little appropriate about going to visit someone alone. Even if it had seemed Ferran was looking after him anyway.]

I understand why you did so.

[She doesn't bother saying she already knows he was there more than once. Would there be a point in doing so? There was more time put into trying to explain that there wasn't anything unscrupulous going on to the observant watcher.]

You do not strike me as the sort to go through my things. So I assume, that is. It sounds, however, that you may have spent a decent amount of time looking after me. Did you make any practical discoveries?

[It is a much gentler response than he might have guessed, though he does not dare to question why that might be. Instead, best that he is simply grateful for it and moves on. He knows for a fact he was not the only one to look in on her, and perhaps that has done something to ease what irritation there may have been.]

No, of course not— it would be unseemly to go through your belongings. You will find them all untouched and exactly as you left them, unless someone else has made such a grievous misstep, in which case I would have words with them.

[But anyone who was friends enough with Beatrix to feel compelled to visit or look after her would have known better. They were all good, honest people, so far as he could tell.

He goes on to shake his head, though his frown pulls a touch deeper.

He had made a discovery of sorts, had he not?]

While I was there... I felt myself compelled.

[He'll have words with them? Beatrix hides a chuckle under her breath. As if she needs someone to do that for her. But she supposes it's a little amusingly charming that he would step in to do something like that. She's the knight. She's supposed to protect him. Not the other way around. Although... she doesn't forget that he's made an offer of something the same.

Less an offer. A want, she supposes. She's sure that's how he said it back when they exchanged words that day in Alexandria castle as she took him to the terrace.]

I am still investigating that. [She replies somewhat dismissively as she examines a treehouse she is almost certain is Oriphi's.] Missing items? Uncertain. Additional items not there prior to my sleep, I can confirm. [That stupid book she and Eustace were in, which is now evidently available for public perusal.]

[Before she falls into that trap expertly laid for herself, his next words catch her. She's in the process of ascending up the way to Oriphi's residence and she pauses, looking to him.]

...Compelled? [The furrow in her brow deepens yet again, as it oft does in his company.] Compelled to do what, exactly.

[The way she asks it, it's not a question. Almost demanding. His words hint at something like a roundabout game. She suspects she's not going to like whatever he has to say next.]

[Delicate as the situation is, he can tiptoe around it no longer. With Tifa's package still tucked under his arm, he drops his gaze to one side so that he might collect himself, summon up the courage to confess in full. It would be better, perhaps, if he could look at her directly, but it is difficult to find the nerve to do so when she sounds so very firm.]

I kissed you.

[He closes his eyes, bracing for impact.

Any moment now—]

["I kissed you."

Everything else in the moment stops. She isn't thinking about her gifts for Tifa and Oriphi any longer. She isn't thinking about the stupid book she's hidden beneath her pillow. She isn't thinking about her own shortcomings or the ever weighted repercussions for her actions back home.

Honestly, it's quite the achievement that he can simply knock everything else aside with only three words. Is he serious? He can't be. What kind of idiot—

Well. Him. He's that kind of idiot. Is this what Eustace meant? Is that why Dohalim went to see her so often? According to Eustace's observations. For several moments, Beatrix simply stares at him. Practically stares him right down. He may be acting as if he's merely inches tall, but one would think the sharp of her gaze would cut him where her sword does not.

What the hell is she supposed to say? She can't do anything about it. It already happened. Is she angry? She can't even determine. It feels a little unfair, actually, given she couldn't even judge him for being 'good' or 'bad.' Not that she's got the experience anyway. Her first kiss is not exactly one she wants to think of when he's busy trying to be the prince in some storybook and treat her as... what, a princess?

How many times does she have to say it? She's the furthest thing from a lady. Except... maybe she isn't?

What if she decides to say nothing at all? A Beatrix not addressing a situation is potentially far more frightening than one who does. She's known for being direct and getting to the heart of the matter. Yes, maybe that's the right way to handle this.

By decidedly not handling it.

So instead of running him through, which is a great temptation in the present, she turns her back to him and resumes her ascending up the pathway.]

Well. This is Lady Oriphi's place, I suspect.

[There's a long pause before he opens one eye— just one— baffled that a stronger response had not been made. There was no harsh rebuke, at least not yet, and he cannot decide if that means he can breathe easily or if he should be more worried than he already is.]

Yes, I believe so.

[A beat, as he opens his other eye, puzzled.]

... this is a world built upon dreams and stories. Some part of me foolishly thought it might wake you.

[But of course, there was more to it than that.]

I should have known that it would not, but I— I could not help myself.

[Beatrix draws in a breath and for several moments, she simply holds it. She doesn't want an explanation. She doesn't want to discuss it at all. She wants to act like it never happened, because then she doesn't have to give it the thought that it's probably required from the first moment she realised she actually liked his company.

He's right, in the end. She's always overcomplicating things.

Resisting the urge to set her jaw, Beatrix gradually makes her way to the front entryway and she bends down just long enough to set Oriphi's package down. Turning back to Dohalim, she watches him some moments and offers over a hand for Tifa's. She's not holding the other one anymore; she can take this one back.]

How about we just pretend you did not say any of this? I am willing to do that.

[And given that she's not a charitable woman, this seems a surprising act of charity. Even if it is incredibly self-serving.]

[It is a charitable offer, from a certain point of view, but his immediate instinct is that it is not what he wants. He frowns, his brows drawing downwards as he does so, gamely handing Tifa's package back to her when she holds a hand out for it. Though he believes they have more to talk about, she was here with a purpose, one he had insisted on aiding her with.]

I don't believe that's wise.

[Perhaps it is what's best for her, in the end; she does not care for sentiment or complications, and what he may go on to say will undeniably offer both, but he does not have it in him to remain silent, either. Guilt had only been one of the reasons why.]

It was not— I do not believe it was simply a lapse in judgment. I have made no secret of the fact that I enjoy your company.

[Surely, this was an extension of that.]

[Just be quiet.

But of course he can't, can he? How did this even happen? The only thing she's done is push and push and push him away. How does it end up accomplishing the opposite? She is wary, unbelievably wary, when she simply accepts Tifa's parcel and she looses a breath she's probably been holding in hopes of avoiding these strange, awkward, and emotionally exhausting conversations. And given she's never been much of an emotional person, she is the worst kind of individual to have such talks with.

She could just as simply cut him off and be done with it, but that's not really going to change anything. Just because she's uncomfortable with breaking out of her 'general' mindset doesn't mean his feelings, or anyone else's change. She doesn't have that kind of influence and she's aware of it. Would she even want it...?

Once more, Eustace's words ring in her head, sharp and to the point as they were.]

I—

[She hesitates. Plainly. Clearing her throat, Beatrix shakes her head as she decides to just push through whatever she feels is holding her discipline in place.]

It is a little unkind when my first— [She can't even make herself say it and she can tell by the way her expression twists awkwardly.] —Whatever. Enjoy my company if you must. I cannot stop you from doing any such thing.

[She draws up her free hand and pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration.]

I hardly know what you wish me to say in response to this... this confession. [Because at least with letters, she could simply ignore them.] I think you have come to the wrong individual. We both know how I am with others outside of a professional capacity. I am ill-suited for such... such endeavours.

["It is a little unkind when my first—"

She needn't finish that thought; he does so for her, and his heart sinks as he realizes that his error was even more grievous than he first thought. He shakes his head; he will parse the rest as he can, and the insistence to refute any sort of sentimentality that he had expected is certainly there, but what sticks is what he has taken from her.]

I have done you a great disservice, it would seem, and for that, I am truly sorry.

[He has stopped walking now, his brow furrowed as he fixes his gaze on her, shoving his own awkwardness aside for the time being. She deserves for him to meet her gaze as he offers his apology, if nothing else.]

I do not know that I expect you to do or say anything, only that it felt wrong to keep this from you. I could not be dishonest. That said... can you truly say that you do not enjoy my company, as well? At least on occasion.

[But it's more than that. He knows.]

[She doesn't want to hear that either. Beatrix isn't one of those high-end noblewomen who has a care for virtue or true love or worth of one being untouched. Of course she doesn't. She's never assumed she would involve herself in such affairs, so she's simply never thought of it. In the current moment, that seems like a terrible mistake made on her part. Too late to change that, evidently.

But she doesn't want the pity. He can toss that right out the nearest proverbial window.

She can hear his steps stop and eventually, gradually, she follows in suit. Turning ever slowly, she takes some moments to look over him thoughtfully. What is she supposed to see when she looks at him? A capable adversary. An intelligent man with a soft, but heart of good intention. Reliable.

...That one is intimidating. Reliability...]

I do not despise your company.

[Her fingertips toy with Tifa's gift, betraying her nerves and discomfort with the subject. Why does she get the feeling he's trying to pry for her own feelings? On him, she suspects. Not just his company. At least, not in the simplest way that it could be. And why is it, that suddenly, she can feel the bittersweet ache of her heart?

How long will she go on telling herself that she can't develop a closeness like that with anyone? How long will she attempt to put out all of her thorns in an effort to ward others off?]

I value your insight. Your wisdom. Your penchant for saying things when I do not wish to hear them. Your fearlessness in doing so, which is both admirable and foolish. You are not afraid of me at all. My reputation does not concern you. My past and my history do not deter you from sharing my company. You are a brave man.

And...

[Beatrix tilts her head to the side thoughtfully.]

You are a good person. You should not taint that with me, because I am not.

[The absence of loathing is certainly something he welcomes, though it still doesn't ring quite true to him. Perhaps he has been reading things all wrong, seeing meaning where there is not, but she continues on, and he is certain that he has interpreted things correctly, as much as he can. This is hardly an area where he has a great deal of experience, and he admittedly remains blind to his own emotions regarding any nuanced situation for far longer than he cares to admit, but he knows that there is something here.

He exhales, shaking his head. She had answered him in far greater detail than he had expected, offered kinder words than she is normally wont to do, but in the end, it still comes down to how she sees herself— what she considers herself worthy of, perhaps.]

I am more than my good qualities, just as you are more than you feel are poor.

[His expression is stern now, resolved.]

I do not believe any of what you so generously mentioned could possibly be tainted by your presence. Regardless of whether you see yourself as good, you are not bad. None of us are any one thing.

[Of course she is more than her qualities. Of course she is more than her sword, more than her title, more than her history, more than her combat prowess. What 'more' any of that might be, Beatrix doesn't know for certain and in many ways, it seems a bit unfair to pull someone else along for something she doesn't even know much about. Something she's never expressed interest in. Something she's never actually thought about or considered.

It does not seem any amount of her excuses, legitimate though they may be, will not work on him. At least, not any longer. Uncertainty flutters in her good eye and she clears her throat before she finds herself taking step again, though her pace is a touch slower. Not nearly quite as rushed as it was to begin with and certainly the thoughts he's provided her with are at fault.]

Yes, well.

[...Well. WELL, WHAT, EXACTLY. He's virtually backed her into a corner and she no longer has anything to fend him off with. Everything she's likely to say he will just have means of coming up against. He's always so clever in his logical retaliation.]

You are quite persistent, are you not. [Beatrix frowns for just a beat before she sighs.] I suppose I will find it in me to stop refuting your... input. [In short, she'll stop pointedly refusing his compliments. Or his feelings. Or whatever else he means to serve her on such a pretty proverbial platter.]

[He nods; it is not his intention to make her feel that she has no choice but to respond such, but it is heartening to hear that she may be more open-minded about how others have come to see her— not only for his own sake, but for all who have managed to form an attachment of some sort with her, regardless of her efforts to keep such things from happening.]

My persistence is as much a gift as it is a fault, I am afraid. I am not inclined towards giving up, and certainly not when I feel it would be a disservice to all involved.

[Her acceptance that despite her best efforts, others will continue to enjoy her company, including himself— that is enough.]

Regardless of how it may seem otherwise, I have no demands to make of you. I only ask that you keep an open mind and perhaps consider your own feelings on the matter, rather than potentially shoving them aside.

[She's inclined to agree with that. A boon and a curse in one. The persistence is brazen and refreshing. She is accustomed to cowards who would flee from her in the face of who and what she is. She is accustomed to whispers surrounding her name and her reputation. She is accustomed to many assuming she is simply a brutal and unkind woman, so much so that she has simply come to accept that portrayal of herself.

Why be anything than what others think she is? What harm is there in playing a part if she can play it well?

Dohalim continues and in her slow pacing, Beatrix lifts a hand and haughtily flicks back a curl of chestnut brown behind her shoulder.]

My feelings on the matter. [She parrots him when she has the opportunity to.] I was under the impression I made my feelings clear enough. You know what I think of you, after all. [Unless he's referring to... The Other Thing, which she has been content enough to ignore. Her feelings on that...?]

Perhaps you mean my slumber. It would be difficult for me to have feelings on something I did not consciously experience. I also would not be able to assess you, given I do not have something to compare it to.

You have, to a point.

[He can concede that much. She has made her feelings clear, or rather what he believes she thinks her feelings ought to be. If there is truly nothing more to this situation, if he is wrong and has misread things, he can accept that well enough— but he does not believe her to be honest with herself about what she might feel or want, regardless of his involvement.

He shakes his head as she expands on the incident, shaking his head.]

That, however, is not what I meant. I overstepped, and I have no intention of romanticizing such a thing.

[It had brought certain thoughts and feelings to light, enough for him to give them serious consideration, but it was still an error, a disservice to the woman in question.]

Rather I hope you will take some time to consider what you actually want for yourself here— much of what you have 'made clear' has been what you think you should want, or what you seem to think you 'deserve'— or don't, depending. Regardless of my own involvement, I do believe that is worth some self-examination.

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