[Most of what he's seen of the chancellor has been from afar. On TV or from a distance at the gala the night before the signing. But he recognizes the Prince's startling blue and it is strangely reassuring, really. Familiar in a way, humanizing.
The words are too, the knowledge that if he was beyond all hope Izunia would put an end to him rather than let him suffer. He nods, slowly. A wry smile tugging at his lips at the line about the future.]
Never thought much about a future for me.
[Giving a future to those that wanted it, that deserved it. People like Lunafreya and Libertus, people that weren't too jaded to appreciate the time they'd been given. What was there for him to look forward to?
But then, in this new world, who knew what might be possible.
He slumps in the chair, settling back against it, his clean right hand dropping down to settle over Izunia's arm for a moment, squeezing once. Reassurance, gratitude. A silent offer of thanks. The future. Isn't that a novel idea? Something to look towards that's not just more fighting, more war. Maybe even the kind of peace Petra cherished so.
Once he makes the conscious decision to let himself relax, to let Izunia do what he needed and not fight to stay perfectly aware and scathing the entire time it's easier for him to let himself drift into a hazy kind of semi-aware state, focusing on the crackle of the fire and the smell of coffee and ginger instead of pain and potions.]
you can't tell him what to do!
The words are too, the knowledge that if he was beyond all hope Izunia would put an end to him rather than let him suffer. He nods, slowly. A wry smile tugging at his lips at the line about the future.]
Never thought much about a future for me.
[Giving a future to those that wanted it, that deserved it. People like Lunafreya and Libertus, people that weren't too jaded to appreciate the time they'd been given. What was there for him to look forward to?
But then, in this new world, who knew what might be possible.
He slumps in the chair, settling back against it, his clean right hand dropping down to settle over Izunia's arm for a moment, squeezing once. Reassurance, gratitude. A silent offer of thanks. The future. Isn't that a novel idea? Something to look towards that's not just more fighting, more war. Maybe even the kind of peace Petra cherished so.
Once he makes the conscious decision to let himself relax, to let Izunia do what he needed and not fight to stay perfectly aware and scathing the entire time it's easier for him to let himself drift into a hazy kind of semi-aware state, focusing on the crackle of the fire and the smell of coffee and ginger instead of pain and potions.]