What: Long talk, after Ava and Laerion leave the room Eamyre and Haladreth are in.
When: Right after/during my last post
'Perhaps I do not deserve a happy life, my Lord.' Avarian says, softly.
'I would dispute that,' He replies, squeezing her shoulder. 'Do not all deserve such?'
Avarian shakes her head. 'You would not say an orc, or a goblin, or one of those brigands that burned Archet deserved a happy life.'
'Of course not,' He replies. 'But elf, or mortal man of the West? Or even, say, men of the East and the South? Surely they are not all bad, merely enslaved?'
Avarian nods her head, softly, 'The easterlings have been under the heel of the Shadow for quite some time, but it is not their fault. And to the south, they know not the ways of some of our more civilized men. Men of the west, some of them deserve it, certainly, but I would say that any one of them is also capable of an amount of evil that damns them to a life of unhappines.'
'I can certainly think of a few elves, who deserve happiness. But not all of my kin are as deserving, I assure you.' She's thinking of Minuial. Min certainly deserved happiness.
Laerion remained silent, deep in thought, just watching her. Something drew him to her, that he could not explain, 'Deserving is not for you to decide.'
Avarian glances out, at the town, the sky, the world beyond. She tucks her knees up against her without losing her perch on the wall, and sets her head upon them. 'It is for me to decide, when I am the person in question.'
'Nay, Lady Hwindcrist,' Laerion returned, taking one of her hands in his. 'Three years, like that, is three years too long, let along three thousand.'
Avarian finds herself squeezing his hand, even though she had no intention of doing so. She was already far, far too close to this man than she was thinking of getting. 'I thought about falling on my sword a few times, especially after Numenor fell. And then Lord Elendil. And then the North Kingdom. And then Gondor, here and there. But release seemed too good a thing, and I had not yet repayed my debts to the world. You keep going. You force yourself to keep going.' she breathes, kind of a rough whisper. She isn't looking at him.
'That is no life,' Laerion tells her. 'That is not a life for anyone. You should not force yourself, you should WANT to keep going!' His voice holds the hint of passion, his eyes a storm.
Avarian glances at him, 'What makes you want to keep going, son of Nathelion?'
'Love. For my sister, for my country. Love, Lady.'
'And what if you had no country? What if you had no sister, left?' she pauses, 'What if love was denied you?'
'I would find it,' He replies, voice steady, eyes serious. 'If Gondor falls I would fall with it, but if it falls and I am not there, I would fight for it's memory.'
'Where would you find it? What if you lived for so long that the memory crumbled away from your mind? And how many times would you have to witness such a thing, before you got tired?'
Laerion fell silent, and shrugs his shoulders, saying suprisingly, 'I would fall upon my sword.'
Avarian nods her head. 'And so.'
'And so, you are stronger than I am.'
'Somehow, I think you may be wrong about that,' Ava murmurs softly. And squeezes his hand more tightly.
He just shakes his head- and does not let go of her hand.
She sighs softly, 'You should marry that huntress, and make a good life for yourself.'
'She spurned my hand,' he replied, but there was no anger there, just acceptance.
She nods, 'I heard you asking. I thought perhaps she might, but I was hoping with some persistance..'
'You do not know Lady Haladreth,' He replies, laughing. 'It could take me a good year or more, just to get a maybe.'
'Would it be worth it? She seems like a good enough Lady to me.' she chuckles.
'I would be happy,' He admits. 'I think she would. It is love, but it is not LOVE, if you can understand it.'
'I understand it, yes.' she whispers. And nods. 'I would that you were happy.'
'I would like happiness, but.' He shrugs, 'Perhaps marriage is not for me.'
'I admit it was not a choice put into my hands. I was bethrothed, *very* long ago, but then he died, and then we were at war, and then I was too unworthy, and then I was amongst the edain, instead of my own people.'
'Why all this business of marriage and children?' He laughed softly, and shook his head, 'The worst comes, and the children die. The best comes, and things go on as they have, for ages. You are immortal, but when I am gone, would I even care?'
'When you are gone, your children carry your memory on with them, and that never dies. That is your immortality.'
'What is immortality?' He shook his head, 'It is not for me, or mine.'
Avarian raises an eyebrow, 'Immortality is the White City, or the Argonath, or the ruins that still reside at Annuminas. The Darkness may beat against them, but I doubt it could take them completely down. Not even elves live forever, but there are some things that do, in their way.'
Laerion just shrugged, 'I do not wish it.'
'Neither do I. Would it be so terrible if your children lived forever, though?' she laughs, 'Assuming you ever cared to have any.'
He smiles, 'Perhaps, but would they consider it curse or gift?'
She tilts her head to one side, 'Not all of my people consider it a curse. I simply do because of the hand I was dealt.'
'But many of us would consider it a gift - then curse it as life waxed on.'
'That,too, depends. There have been many things, good things, that I have seen in my time. I would not trade that in, at all. I think, if I were someone else - my friend, the Lady Minuial perhaps - I would be able to find joy in all these things, endlessly. This world consistantly surprises me, for all it stays the same.'
'Those are such things, then, to live for.' He smiles gently, 'Rather than forcing one'sself.'
'And now you see, why I never managed to fall upon my sword. Even in the very very darkest abyss of my life, there was something. Extremely tiny, but something. The size of a speck of dust, hope sometimes is. And it is quiet, and goes silent sometimes, and you forget it.' she shrugs, 'It just seems to become louder, right when I begin to sink too far.'
He licks his lips, finding himself wanting to hold her, and...give her...give her what she needed, though he knew not what that is.
She eyes him, 'So, too, this Eamyre may find some small glimmer of hope, before it is too far gone for her. Sometimes it is inside other people, as it has been for me, these past few thousand years.'
'You do not always fight,' he says, suddenly.
Avarian opens her mouth, then closes it, and looks away. Her eartips are blushing.
'So that WAS you!'
'We do not need to talk about this.' she sounds rather rattled.
'I had never seen anything so stunning and beautiful,' He replies. 'But..why? Such a place is far beneath you, my lady.'
She closes her eyes, and sighs, 'I did barely anything more than that. Is it so beneath me, to dance?'
'Nay, but it is beneath you to have men watch and lust after you like a common whore. Your dance should have been in...greater venues. For kings and courts!'
She wrinkles her nose, 'It is not always the most terrible thing, being desired for something beyond your skill with a blade and ability to kill without question.' she whispers.
'Nay, it is not, but it is a terrible thing to be reduced, like that.' He seems..really rather insistant. He clearly has no good memories of that brothel. At all.
'You hold me in high regard, yet you do not know me.' she sighs. 'It was not the best place in the world, though. I will admit to that. I left it right before they closed it down, after a rather nasty incident.'
He nods, 'I was thirteen, when my sister and I stumbled into it.'
She arches a brow, 'What is a boy of thirteen doing in a place like that, let alone his lady sister?'
'We wandered in, on accident,' Laerion replies, chuckling. 'And saw you dance..'
She shrugs, 'I needed the money, and I do not raise my sword merely for a wage.'
'It was beneath you, but I will never forget that sight,' He admitted.
She arches her other brow. She still hasn't let his hand go. 'It would be best if you did not mention that to too many people.'
'Nay, I would not, save to my sister perhaps,' He replies, winking at her. His hand is warm in hers.
Avarian chuckles, 'well, she will be insufferable anyway, the moment she learns what I really am.'
'And pester you with a thousand questions.'
He flashed a grin at her. Maybe his hand was getting a little sweaty, but letting go? Not happening!
She slumps a bit more against her own knees, practically burying her head against them, and nods. 'More than a thousand.' She looks exhausted. She even *sounds* exhausted.
He reaches over, and squeezes both her shoulders and her hand - then presumes to hug her, muttering a bid for forgiveness.
She lets him. ... In fact, I think she fell asleep the moment she got into his arms.
He rests his chin on the top of her head, kissing lightly there. After a little while, he bundles her up and carries her up stairs to tuck her in.