Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2011-05-03 12:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | saint david, saint patrick |
Who: Patrick and Welsh!Dewi Sant
What: Awkward attempts at conversation
When: Tuesday morning
Where: UK!George's house
Warnings: none
Dewi sought out Patrick deliberately. He was curious about the mentions the American George had made about him suffering from memory loss, as well as the feeling of being out of the loop of the goings of of those around him. His George never stopped telling him he was a shut-in and he needed to get out more, and this seemed like as good a time as any to open his mind a little. He knew there had been tension overnight, though he didn't know what about, as usual. Nobody ever bothered to fill him in. He realised it was because he kept himself separate, but really, was it so hard to include him sometimes?
"Patrick," he said, somewhat abruptly, interrupting Patrick in what he was doing, and held out a small roll. "Would you like something to eat? I was making some for my trip back, but they're better fresh." It was just a plain bread roll, hot, with a dab of butter and honey on it (not organic honey though, Dewi noted with disapproval at George's pantry.) "I realise we haven't had much opportunity for conversation since you have been here. How are things with you, brother?"
Patrick looked up and he hesitated for a moment. He hadn't expected Dewi Sant to talk to him at all, considering he was not a bit the Patrick he had used to be.
Closing his journal and hoping the surprise didn't show on his face, Patrick reached out for the bread roll. "Thank you," he said quietly. He had been feeling all mixed up since the previous night, but there was something calming about Dewi Sant. Even though just the presence of him made Patrick miss his Dewi so much his chest hurt.
"You look...different," Patrick said, since he had only remembered Dewi had used to look like this recently and it still startled him to see a tall and slender Saint David. "Though I suppose...so do I."
"All of you Americans are changed," Dewi relied, sitting down next to Patrick. He knew how much he had remained the same when the world changed around him. He shrugged and took a bite of his own bread. "It's not your fault, I image. Americans have a different way of doing things. My brothers here have a different way of doing things too, from the old days." A lot of things Dewi didn't approve of. The sex, for one. He understood they each had a duty to their country, as did he, but that shouldn't stop their piety. That was partly why he kept away from them, so his own ways didn't become corrupted by modernity.
Patrick took a bite of the bread and he smiled as he chewed. He missed Dewi's cooking.
"I don't think it's my fault. This isn't exactly what I would have chosen to be like. It got chosen for me. But God has His reasons and I should trust that He has a plan for me, and that's different from his plan for Padraig. Sometimes I get jealous because I left and Padraig cropped up here and I see him as...ideal, I guess. And I don't like that I'm the one who had to leave and he's basically a copy of me, but he's more like I used to be. But those feelings are useless."
Patrick looked up and Dewi Sant and he shook his head. "I'm sorry! I'm used to talking to Dewi about these things. And you look...really different, but you still feel like him." Mostly. Dewi Sant was far more rigorous in his beliefs than Patrick's Dewi, but they were still both so calming.
Dewi patted Patrick a little awkwardly on the shoulder. "I suppose you miss him being here," he said, sympathetically. "I'm certain he'll turn up. George told me he's not dead, and I'm- well, we're- used to living having less." He leaned back on the chair, contemplating. "It's not too late for you to change, you know. The Lord holds us all in His hands."
"I am changing," Patrick stressed and then he shook his head. "I have changed. I am a very different man than I was a year ago. A better one. I can't change what belief has made me, but I'm learning to work with it instead of letting it work against me." Patrick bit his lip and then he said sadly, "and I do miss him. So much.
"I know...I know you're used to living having less, but- We were happy in my little apartment. I thought we were. And I can't shake this terrible fear that he left me because he felt I...I'm not worthy of him. Which isn't fair to him. It's not giving him the respect he deserves because my brother would never treat someone with such disregard. But I still can't shake the irrational fear."
Dewi nodded slowly, carefully tearing his roll in half as he listened. "Of course you are worthy, Patrick. Whatever is keeping him, I'm certain it isn't anything to blame yourself for," he said, his tone firm. He paused a moment, popping a chunk of bread into his mouth and chewing it as he considered his words.
"In some ways, I'm a little envious of you Americans. You're not constrained so much by the borders of your countries. You've lost some of the long, deep resentment, the centuries of hate. Very occasionally, when George is doing something like insisting I install a telephone, or forcing me to go to football matches with him, I really hate him for invading my space. I shouldn't hate anyone. I preach love and forgiveness, I certainly shouldn't resent my own brother." He glanced sideways at Patrick. "You seem very close. It's good. David would never throw that away."
Patrick looked shocked then at Dewi Sant's confession. Not because he didn't think Dewi should be feeling such things. Dewi was only human, even if he was a saint. It was just that he felt it towards George. And in that moment, Patrick was relieved there was no resentment between himself and George because of the countries they represented. He had heard Padraig talk about the wars, and how strained things were. He hadn't known it was something that was still an issue, however. Patrick didn't resent George anything and he would give his brother absolutely anything George wanted or needed. And Patrick was very grateful for that.
"That is a blessing," Patrick said softly. "I would like to think there is no resentment between Dewi and me. Certainly not from my side. But we lived together and then John moved in too... I hear you say he would never throw that away, and I trust that you would know yourself better than I would, especially since my own viewpoint is skewed by self-loathing. I just hope I didn't hurt him by needed someone else too."
Dewi quickly waved a hand at Patrick's shocked look. "I don't hate him all the time! It's just sometimes, when he's trying to control me. I know I don't get out much, and I know he thinks he's helping, but... It's not his fault, he just likes to get involved in everything and make sure I'm doing okay." He shrugged. "When David comes back, talk to him about it. He loves you."
"George likes being a big brother and I think...being the patron of England, he feels the role even more. Though I can understand feeling crowded," Patrick said, even though he didn't think it was possible for him to be crowded by his own George. "I will talk to him about it. I'm just so worried for him. I wish we could find out where he's been and if he's okay."
"It's not just feeling crowded. It's because Wales was effectively the first colony of England, and we were annexed and had no rights. Henry VIII outlawed the use of the Welsh language, school children were beaten for speaking it, you know? And we still barely count for anything-" Dewi inhaled through his nose. "I apologise. I don't mean to sound bitter. It's just been so long since I could last talk to someone. Padraig doesn't quite understand, though he shares my antipathy for England. Ireland had a proper chance to fight back. Wales was conquered long ago. He would only ask me why we didn't fight harder, but it's not about that any more." He shook his head and then glanced at Patrick.
"Again! It's so easy to go off on rants about how I wish things could be different. Another reason to keep myself separate. And you with your own, more pressing concerns. George tells me you lost some of your memories. That must be strange for you."
"No, it's...it's fine. I don't mind listening. I know Padraig still feels anger because of Northern Ireland, but I also know that's not the same. I wish things could be different for you too. You're my brother and I care."
Patrick shifted a little and then he nodded. "I lost almost everything, though I'm slowly gaining it back. I never forgot who I was, but I forgot why that mattered, you know?"