http://errantknights.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] errantknights.livejournal.com) wrote in [personal profile] apostatised 2009-11-02 11:57 am (UTC)

"Your death-"

Martel pinches the bridge of his nose, opting to ignore...more or less all of that, actually; he's laughing, mirthlessly. "We tied off our loose ends very neatly, and I hate to see such tidy work undone by the fact I didn't have the good sense to stay dead. I'd rather remember the end than fight with you here, I want you to go home, you idiot. You won and I am the wreckage; I have no secrets here. Do you know it's been a year? It's been more than a year since I died. I am exhausted by it. And now here you are, with a litany of my failures, and I don't have the audacity to call you wrong or this unfair. But for God's sake, old boy, go home, it's not that hard. To your wife and your magic trick child. And stay there. Even Kalten managed to come and go."

...it's at this point that he realizes he's begun rambling like a mad fool, and having never been especially fond of his own shows of emotion, he swears, quietly. The problem with trying to teach yourself to be honest, to be better, to let yourself feel...well, the problem is that sometimes you stumble into it at the most inopportune of moments. Outbursts of things you'd kept hidden, things that shame you, things that hurt and aren't right or fair or reasonable. Always when you need them the least.

"You idiot," he adds, in case Sparhawk missed it the first time.

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