Arno Dorian took the eagle's path (phantomblade) wrote in angellogs, @ 2017-08-28 18:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | arno dorian, balthier |
Who: Arno, Balthier
When: Current
Where: Assassin HQ
What: Balthier’s not sure how you offer comfort for - the mess that Arno’s life is in right now, but - at least he can make some food and listen.
Rating/Warnings: Vague about prisons / torture in said prisons. Talk about chronic pain. Balthier mentions that Arno’s an alcoholic.
Status: Complete
Balthier’s not entirely sure what counts as a good meal after - how’d you call it? Plans of murder followed by sharing of trauma and drinking? He could totally hear his past self snidely commenting that it wasn’t that uncommon in Archades that he should act so befuddled about it. He’s more or less thinking something like a potato soup. Maybe with some crispy bacon or some bread on the side? It’d smell good cooking, and cook fairly fast, and there wouldn’t be much work to it. And depending on how Arno looked, he could totally dig out some options to have on the bread, and stick to something that could be munched while - gathering up enough composure?
He’s honestly writing to Basch because it’s interesting, thinking about it. He can’t think of what helps calm him down, but sitting there plotting about trying to be hospitable to Arno - maybe that is thinking about what’d help him?
Arno’s had a very strange last few days, preparing both to die and to walk away, leaving his father’s killer’s corpse behind him or words to that effect. Instead of that, though, he’s managed to find, well, Shay. Not the traitor, yet, exactly, and having left a world that’s turned him into what he never meant to be. It’s a feeling Arno knows well, in spite of himself and…
He doesn’t like it at all. He’s tried not to let that idea run through his mind, even as he’s getting ready to talk to Balthier about it. Instead, Arno’s trying to focus on grabbing some of the fresh pastries from the morning rush that he’d set back, even as he huddled in the back and made his staff deal with people until he got serious amounts of coffee in him. At least it’s fairly routine to box and tie things.
Balthier looks - well - he’s gained more of a tan, over the last few weeks, and he looks a lot less stressed than he did when Shay showed up. Still a little tight in the shoulders like they’re hurting but he’s cheerful enough when he lets Arno in. “I had some ideas, for food,” he offers, sending off the e-mail he was writing. “But - I wanted to hear how you were feeling. I’ve got some options for background noise as well, if you want distraction for a while.” He found an older French chef, cooking on television. The guy is way too late for Arno, but the accent and the knife skills might be entertaining. And it might - provide some distraction.
“I’ve brought a few things too.” Arno nods toward the box he’s carting. “I went for what was going to be nice. And I’m wondering the same about you, actually, but I don’t mind going first, because I think...I feel a little odd. Like something’s emptied out of me. But it isn’t unpleasant.”
And he’s stepping closer into the room, setting down the box and offering Balthier a rather tired sort of smile. “You seem a bit...less tense than you were, at first.”
“Thank you for that. I’m guessing - something from the cafe? I am feeling better.” Balthier offers his hand. “Mind if I offer you a hug? Or a blanket and a spot to sit? Sometimes that helps, when things don’t feel entirely okay.”
“From this morning.” Arno nods. “I thought setting a few things back just in case was a good idea. And my staff trust my whims now.” Most of them anyway. He has his doubts about a couple of them, but they do the job, so… He’ll go with that.
“A hug would be good, actually.” Arno tells him, stepping forward. “Be forewarned, I might not be easy to shake. I’ve been told by good authority that I’m clingy.”
Balthier laughs. “I shall have you stuck like a burr for a while? I am curious. I don’t think I’ve tried the pastries at the cafe.” He offers his arms. “Upper shoulder’s a bit tense, but I’ll let you know if you’re hitting the muscles from a bad angle. Usually warmth isn’t bad. Couch? While I discuss what you’d like to eat and you cling a bit?”
“Or a barnacle.” Arno snorts. “Haytham’s analogy. “ But for now, he’s wrapping himself around Balthier, glad to just relax for a moment, into that. Even with Haytham, he’s still got a thing in thr back of his mind telling him that there’s a weapon coming from somewhere, or, more likely, some kind of knock out drug and that he’ll wake up hours later, tucked in bed more comfortably than he bothers, with no one taking responsibility for that. It’s slightly risky, after all.
With Balthier, just being able to relax into that is enough, and his face is a little wet when he glances up, but he’s mostly controlled it. “Thank you.” He says, quite seriously. “It’s...it has been a LOT.”
Balthier tries a careful pat of his side. “Yeah, I can imagine.” His face has softened a fair amount from the usual smile he’s got going, and he’s talking quieter now. “You know, I tried picturing what happens when Fawkes goes over to visit Noah and they chat. And - sheesh - it’s been forever, hasn’t it? Noah’s not a Templar. I think you missed out on everyone figuring that out, despite he and I knowing that. They’ve been coloring pictures, Noah says. Mostly to keep the hands busy while talking.”
He still can’t quite picture that. Maybe he’s never seen Fawkes on downtime?
“It has, hasn’t it?” Arno nods slowly “I did miss out on...a lot of what went on over here. I think it was better for everything at the time. And that week... “ He sighs. “Well, they say you sometimes have things you try to hide brought to light. Me needing to work on...everything managed to finally happen, I suppose. I don’t know how I feel about being away from that..I could have tried to talk them down, maybe, but we have what we have now, right?” He’s carrying enough guilt on his shoulders as it is.
“And he’s….what?” Arno snorts loudly. “Is THAT what he’s been doing? Wait, is that what MOLLOY’s been doing when he comes over? That’s slightly amazing.”
Then he’s eyedarting a little. “Haytham is addicted to those puzzle books where you enter the numbers in the little squares. Which is incredibly amusing.” Since Balthier had passed on a sort of trade secret after all. “And he’s secretly really fond of cats. Doesn’t mind dogs either but he looks incredibly sad around them after. I...don’t ask.”
“Sudso - sudoku?” It’s kind of a thing that doesn’t slide off Balthier’s tongue. “I like crossword puzzles, though all the sports and movie stars questions don’t work for me. I tend to get frustrated at high difficulty sudoku, and the easy stuff tends to go pretty fast.” He gives Arno a slight nudge. “This way? There’s mugs, and we can have something to drink. I’ve got some herbal teas and some normal tea. Coffee as well.”
He’s not sure why he suddenly feels so - just - fine? Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t had a hug in ages? “And if you’re thinking of blaming yourself - that’s kind of silly, right? Haytham hadn’t even talked to Basch or Noah yet, and no one asked, because everyone was having a bad couple of weeks there. The worst of all of it was that I kind of got furious with Jacob, partly - he was reacting normally for himself, and terribly for my past kind of things. I don’t know how to apologize to him for that.”
“I think they wouldn’t be bad for me in French.” Arno muses. “Something to do, the way Jacob has his little sewing things…” he shrugs. Jacob’s decent at repairs and actually careful, so he’s fine with that as the default state of affairs. “I don’t have much of… I think that was why I fell so hard, when I did, well, before the very obvious reasons of yesterday.” He smiles. “Coffee would be fantastic.”
As far as Jacob and things go? Arno’s heard a few versions of that. “What IS going on there? The official word’s that he’s on probation and Shaun’s not sending him out for a while, Molloy took most of his backlog, and he’s not supposed to TEACH anyone anything, but...why, exactly? It wasn’t really shared with me in words. Aedan says it’s more to do with Jacob slipping off into revenge fantasies, Evie thinks he’s paranoid, and it’s hard to get a read on the others. I know he made some accusations too?”
“Ugh.” Balthier makes a face. “Right. Coffee fetching.” He leans to snag the tin without disturbing Arno. “I’m going to start with the - uh - I guess the part that upset me the most, which is stupid, but - personal, I guess? I don’t know. It was a cavalcade of none of us on our best behavior either. Remember that I looked a bit rough when I got in here? I think you - opened the door for us? I think you did.” It’s honestly a blur, a lot of it. “I . . . was in prison. My father ordered . . . that I get tortured a lot like Basch got tortured. Deliberately.”
That’s - sticking in his throat. “I . . . ended up showing the game that we’re from to Tadgh and Jacob to show them what happened to Basch. Happened to me. Kind of a shared past that Basch and I remember, of a world where things happened differently. And Jacob -”
“We did, right,” Arno nods. “I was trying to find a room for you mostly and Jacob...went to park the van.” Which is kind of a Jacob thing. No one lets him near cars on most occasions, unless it’s Evie, who seems to share his wild driving habits and lack of concern for traffic laws, but somehow has Shaun fooled on that front.
“And you DID look really rough….” He nods, wincing. “I was in myself, for some months but they didn’t do anything much once I was down there. But I can identify with a BIT of it, maybe? un peu?” he shrugs. “Anyway. Not important. You were tortured that way and...Jacob…”
“And Tadgh. Both kind of . . . Tadgh confirmed, and I suspected, at least, that - since Basch was a Templar, in their mind, Basch spending two years in solitary, between being tortured was . . . fine.” Balthier makes a face. “Which - I get it. The Templars hurt them and theirs a lot. But - telling someone who went through - a week or two? Telling me that two years of that was fine was - upsetting.”
To - put it mildly. “And then Fawkes came over to talk, when the aliens were attacking, because he heard that I was kind of - Aedan came home, happy as all get out, that he got to stay with the assassins for - I think it was a weekend?” That too was a blur. “And Aedan came home and mentioned that he was learning to kill people like Sebastian. With an underaged kid in the house, and Iomhar and Callum. And - with the knowledge that Noah would try to defend Sebastian, and - we both know that you guys would win. And - Jacob said that he should have the right to say threats to Basch and Noah if he wanted. If they were Templars. You see how it was kind of - you can imagine how my back was tensing up?”
“It depends, even if it IS a templar, doesn’t it?” Arno says, thinking that over seriously. “I’m hard pressed to think of any I know personally that should have that sort of a fate...even Shay...I wanted him gone from this world, not suffering. That’s...not exactly what the creed’s supposed to be about.” It sounds like all of them lost their collective minds all right.
“Tadgh’s probably...I suspect the man has his prices he’d be willing to pay with his soul for.” Arno says now, really considering that idea. “There’s not much he wouldn’t do for his country. I can’t say I blame him. I wanted to help France once too, but, BUT….I’ve also seen it going so downhill when people try and rush straight into… There’s a fine line between a good intention and a bad end.”
He’s thinking of Robespierre, when he says this, of the man changed from promises and good intent to the blood thirsty maniac who’d been there in the end. Templar ambitions and plots that he’d been involved in, aside, there had to have been a point where he’d had SOME conviction that was about something other than personal power and gain. No one could speak as he did without something and...it’s sad, honestly, as Arno sees it, that the promises never came to light.
“They promised the people of France bread, clamored for it, and in the end, they gave them blood.” He says now, shaking his head “It’s another kind of extremism, relevant to what you’re saying. Jacob’s falling into it maybe too easily.”
“The rest was - I asked Jacob if he wanted to be a friend. Find somewhere quiet and peaceful he could relax and rest, and I could get the same support from him. And he - assumed I meant an intimate relationship. You can imagine how that went.” Balthier makes a face. “The main worry Shaun had was that - apparently Jacob in his game had issues training someone. Something like that. So he was afraid that Jacob would have the same problem with Aedan. Add in the - extremism is a nice word to put on it.”
He trails off. “I’m kind of dumping all my worries on you, aren’t I? While clinging like a limpet. Tell me to not be selfish if it gets bad?”
“That must have been bad.” Arno frowns, mulling that over. “And Jacob’s got...yeah he did that. Not YET, the same sort of not yet for Shay, but all right, that, along with him being overly....enthusiastic about something he never had a right to be in the first place...that’s scary on a few levels.” He sighs.
“And I assume Jacob got odd about the rejection then, or?”
Balthier nods. “He implied I was breaking the creed, when I mentioned that you’d kind of - technically at home, you’d ask people to meet your other lovers or friends to make sure they’re civil with each other. And if they weren’t it was your duty to kind of - negotiate that? Make sure you’re not asking them to put up with someone they hate. Which - since he thought Basch was a Templar, and so on. I don’t know. It was - his sister confronted me after he asked me to watch some creep from his past dying in the game thing. And she wanted me to promise I’d never hurt him.”
Balthier sighs. “No one came to me, after they saw Basch in prison.”
“Fraternizing with the enemy?” Arno nods. “It’s not quite breaking the creed, but it IS something most of them, most templars, too, see as a betrayal.”
There are reasons, maybe, that he and Elise found each other after she’d become a templar, ready to become grandmaster, and HE had become first the reason for her father’s death, and then an assassin. Most of the reason is that, simply, they didn’t have very much else. Elise had had her friends, the few he’d come across, who’d known her old headmistress or something and Arno had had...not many of the assassins even before they’d booted him out of there. It hadn’t been what he’d been booted out for, but it’d probably contributed to the general air around then all.
“And that sounds a lot like Evie. It’s good to know she’s being relatively normal in all of this.” Arno says. “But so Jacob, if he assumed it was romantic and...I could see under that circumstance not wanting to meet someone’s other lovers, but the fact he was so odd about it is what’s scary.”
Personally, Arno can’t imagine the multiple thing, himself, but as long as he’s not being asked to help write manuscripts or to participate, or watching Elise shut down that invitation….let people do what they will, honestly. ...de Sade was a creepy bastard, too, mind.
“It was a mess, and probably mostly my fault.” Balthier sighs. “I don’t know if Jacob should’ve gotten pulled aside, but - I can see why Fawkes did it. And that’s when he started talking with Noah. It apparently works? He’s enjoying it, at any rate.”
“That’s good in his case, at least. Shaun seems like he’s...where I was not so long ago. It doesn’t lead to good places.” Arno says, seriously. “And Jacob, no… Do you know, technically, I am no longer a member of the brotherhood at home? Not for some time at least, according to the history. They eventually do take me back but..they were right to get rid of me for most of the creed’s tenants I broke. I think Jacob getting a warning for being that intense is...not that far out of any lines I can think of.”
“I’m glad? I mean, it’s bad for him, but - I’m glad that you agree.” Balthier exhales. “This helps, you know. The hug. I guess it helps remind me that - this is all real. Coffee should be a minute or three? Want to snag a blanket, and I’ll bring some mugs over and the pastries. Maybe - do you take sugar or milk? I never can tell what’s normal for people.”
“In all my years of running a cafe, I never really came to hear about there being a NORMAL when it comes to coffee.” Arno tells him. “I personally prefer black, but that’s also partly because sugar is expensive back home and I can’t get used to it here. And a blanket is a nice thought.”
“Black then. At home it was either stronger than you could handle, and sweet, or plain.” Balthier carries the pot over and mugs. “Right. Vent at me? Since I vented at you? Or shall I talk meals?”
“I can vent.” Arno agrees. “Quite easily, probably. It comes down to the same...I thought it was only the Paris brotherhood that was pedantic and that here things might be easier with regard to making things better. Last night showed me that sort of thing too. That I’d been being slightly irrational myself. There’s only one of those I can change myself. I hate that.”
And he pauses. “And...Shay...I believe the story that he told me of what led him away from the brotherhood. And it’s an awful story. I thought that I was clear in wanting to go back, and I DO want to be there but this...it was never about being pure, but there’s so far to go. I’ve had to confront that again”
Balthier tugs over some blanket options. “This one’s soft, and this one is - deliberately heavy? You can try it. It’s supposed to make you feel calmer.” He fills up his mug and leans back with a sigh. “You know - I’m not sure - purity is a hard thing to argue. It’s easy to do bad stuff.”
“I just...Well. considering what it is we do..” Arno shakes his head “We work in the dark to serve the light, but we’re not necessarily standing IN the light either. I don’t much know that I would WANT to be.” He says now, thinking about that, and tugging over a blanket. “But...that was never meant to be easy. I had to learn it the hard way. I have the feeling Jacob’s not gotten there himself. Shaun...seems a bit grimly settled. I can’t blame him but..”
But he doesn’t like it either.
“And being at war hurts people, so it’s - no wonder that both sides here aren’t always happy. And have - injuries, I guess? Like how I couldn’t handle people saying torture might be okay - that type of torture. Because of what happened to me.” Balthier reaches to pat near Arno’s hand. “You know, you could want to be here, with the brotherhood, and with the cause you want to support, and still not happy about things. That - there should be room for that, shouldn’t there?”
“I think there should be.” Arno nods, smiling a little, though it’s heavy. “I do see how some of the wounds...there are things that don’t ever heal, aren’t there?” But one of the things he’d thought would never heal has become...better, easier to bear now. It’s something.
“I suppose a part of it’s…finding the places changes CAN come about. Looking at myself too.” He’s ready for that now.
“Basch was telling me that it was kind of - I guess that it was all right to fail. I was mentioning I was afraid to try some things, because I’m afraid that I’d get nervous or something. And he pointed out that even if I get nervous, trying to - find out that I could handle something is good. I’d know my limits, and I have a chance of change. If I’m willing. Not just - forcing myself too far.” Balthier sips his coffee and sighs. “I was thinking - potato soup? Or just bread and - there’s cheese and the like. I wasn’t sure how steady your stomach felt, or how hungry you were. Or how much I’d be clinging to you like a limpet. I suppose we’re peas in a pod, that way, aren’t we?”
“That’s true.” Arno agrees. “It’s a work of lifetimes, several other people’s already, all of ours who are here, or who’re coming...I have descendents. To this DAY I have them. It implies a few things about, well, that at some point, I could do that sort of thing again. It’s hopeful. And I guess that’s all anyone CAN do, isn’t it?” At least with any real forethought and effort behind it.
“Probably the bread for now, and seeing about the cheese.” Arno frowns. “I managed to get myself a little messed up. I’m not sure how Cormac stomachs any of that rot he was drinking. And we are, I think. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Only when you let it make you push yourself aside.”
“Would you like to hear something happy, then? Since - well - I’m hunting for a house, for - reasons that’s not simple. And - well - Noah’s courting to be engaged.” Balthier uncurls a little. “I’ll go bring over some bread, and some cheese then. There’s some sliced ham, as well. At home, you’d get ham and butter at times, sort of as leftovers from the party snacks.”
Sometimes you’d get leftovers from the party, but if there wasn’t much else, you’d still usually have a bit of cured meat for breakfast or leftover from making the appetizers, and some bread. Balthier liked the crusts on his sandwich, which always amused his mother and the nurse. He - honestly barely remembers his mother. Just little fragments that he’s pretty sure is blurred with his father pointing out that Isannah was close, but not identical to her.
“Considering, I only got the Aedan and Iomhar version of how that’s going, I’m quite curious about the latter.” Arno says, and he means that. “And the house hunting? Sounds interesting enough. I should seriously think about a place that’s actually mine at some point again, just...not now, I don’t think. How’s yours going?”
He and Elise got to be pretty good at sneaking into the parties and darting away with food themselves. It was at least slightly easier than sneaking apples from the orchard, or entire jars of jam from the kitchen. Or maybe, he was good at sneaking even then. Bellec had told him later how he could see Charles Dorian in him.
Maybe it’s not about proving that he’s his father’s son, anymore, but going with that, and realizing it’s a complicated reality. “Hit me with the happy news then.”
Balthier’s making a cheese, ham, and butter sandwich for himself. “Well, I successfully had a nap around Basch. I was so worried, with the nightmares, that it’d turn into us feeding into each other’s ghosts. But - it went well.” He grins. “I know it sounds kind of - minor, but - we both have issues with - things like weight on our arms, or our backs ache. Waking up not knowing where we are. But - it worked. What has Aedan told you? Or well - what you’re willing to share? He deserves some privacy for his thoughts.”
The - prior to the nap, admittedly, they’d done more than talk, but - discussing how to say yes (considering that Basch occasionally seemed to search for words after those years with nothing he wanted to say and no one to say it to -) and the rest was more than good. Being able to sleep without mutual dreams of the pit? That was - lovely.
“That’s sounds like good progress.” Arno means that too. “Hardly minor. There are times I sometimes wake up fairly sure I’m still in Le Bastille or the prison walls are crumbling around me again. Or I imagine other things in my sleep that I imagine would do the same.” He frowns a little. “They can take hold. That you two managed is a good thing.”
And as far as Aedan things go, let’s see…
“He likes Noah, but he DOES point out that they’re a bit too adorable for words sometimes. Without meaning to be. I get the impression they’re...that couple. Which could be offbase.”
“Huh. Could be worse, I suppose. So - back during that week of people being odd - apparently Noah ended up getting invited to stay in the house, and Sebastian admitted that he was - feeling pretty desperate to not lose Noah. And Noah offered to formally court him, however that’d take. I think traditionally it’d be a year before the engagement and wedding? Something like that.” Balthier munches on his sandwich and nudges some bread toward Arno. “So I was - a mess here, and Basch moved out for a while, because he couldn’t handle the anger at Noah. And Noah was settling that. Noah’s - I think his main concern is getting Sebastian’s brothers to not make a spectacle of the wedding.”
“Good luck with THAT last one.” Arno knows Iomhar, after all. ‘But that all sounds, well, good for both of them. The last time I did much in the way of contacting Sebastian besides reminding him that the pub’s fine for Ellie and nothing’s going to happen there, he was...well, it was all fairly impossible back then. This winter was bad for all of them. It’s good to know there’s someone there for him.”
Balthier smiles. “At least I can promise Noah - he tends to be steady and consistent? And - he’s made mistakes, but he does try to live up to his goals.” He couldn’t believe a year ago, he’d be arguing for Noah’s virtues, but - times have changed. Balthier offers the bread. “Try a little? See if it’ll stay down?”
“That’s a good thing.” Arno nods. “Sounds like a good match to me. If you asked me, that family’s trying to outrun themselves.” Elise was like that, so he’s seen it a few times. “And anything looking saner...it’s definitely good. “ He’s accepting the bread, absently, pulling off a piece.
“You don’t think I’m allowed to get revenge on Cormac now, for THIS?” he quips.
Balthier raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t he say that you supposedly could handle your drink?” He reaches to pat Arno’s arm lightly. “Do you want me to help make some calls? Have something lined up to make sure you’re not going to tumble into bad shape? Offer that he could go as well, if he’s drinking a lot?”
Since well, when Shay showed up, Arno fell into heavy drinking and went in to talk. It’s possible that this, even if it’s a good result, in the sense that Arno isn’t dead, still might be the harbinger of stress.
“Something like that.” Arno snorts. “I didn’t know he was going to poison me.” He shakes his head a little. “I’ve had worse, but that was after, well. A night.” Does everyone have some kind of leaving the brotherhood moment of getting incredibly drunk, maybe? He could almost see that with Shay, and this as some kind of weird delayed reaction. Then again, HE was the one Haytham got home, so who knows what kind of state Shay was in, For all Arno knows, it’s a regular thing. “I’d say it’s an Ireland thing but I really don’t want to have that getting around to Molloy.” He adds, even though it probably WILL, because he’s said it in this hotel, with these walls.
“I’m all right, I think, considering.” He allows. “It’s just been...a while. The next time I have an emotional conversation, it’s going to be somewhere with less mood altering substances. Maybe a library.”
“And you’ll talk to a therapist?” Balthier asks quietly. “I’m always willing to listen, but - if you find yourself needing to be locked out of the wine cellar, that’s not something I’m trained to handle, you know. You’ll at least - I’m guessing you’ve got things in place? Or Haytham knows how you’ve handled it before?” Since - well - it seems reasonable to point to the uneasy facts that Arno’s got a tendency to drink (alcoholism? The exact terms are a lot more defined here.) Trauma could make things worse. Balthier waves a hand. “I’m trying to set up some - I guess therapy for myself. Noah’s asking who might be a good option to handle a version of my story without deciding I’m nuts and actually offering some support. I walked you over to meet people, maybe - you could walk me over and tell me that I should at least make a try at things.”
Arno wants to be affronted at the implication, but it’s fair. He’s done worse things to get drunk in his life than picking wine cellars that technically are for the bar itself. Still, he’s not so much feeling the urge now, so he nods. “I do now, and I will. He was there, you know, for the entire thing? Hours of being perched up on a rafter, just to make sure I didn’t end up killed. Or turned into a werewolf. Or kill Shay, because I’d probably regret it later, but I think that last one...it’s not as unlikely an outcome as I made it out to be if it came to it. He’s GOOD. Even now. “
Therapy HAS helped though, the parts Arno’s talked about, at least. There are more to go, but he’s...working at it. “I think that’s reasonable. And it CAN be hard to find people who...I know that Aedan’s got someone who gets the other worlds thing now as more than just a concept. I can definitely walk you over to look for resources for it too, if you’re going outside of that.”
Balthier nods. “Dr. Strange was offering to help look for -” He exhales. “He was worried I may have some kind of nerve damage, and some -” He trails off. “I feel sort of - tension and ghost pains in my back? There’s options out there. Basch has it too, and worse than mine. I’m sort of testing the water before he goes in, since he’s got - visible scars, I think.” He - hasn’t asked to look.
“That seems natural.” Arno nods. “After being, well, some memories ache that have nothing to do with your joints or back, don’t they? I have some long ones on my back, cuts from a window that bother me, not because they happened, but...because of HOW they did. When I think about my teacher, not our mentor. He killed him, actually. I...got to be the one to deal with that. It was...not an easy fight. “
Bellec had blamed Elise for it, and sure, Arno’s head had been full of her then, Arno’s head is ALWAYS full of Elise, and it’s always going to be, but it’s a state of being he’s adjusted to now, mostly. Still, if he dwells on the moment, the cuts still sting like they’d just happened and he swears he’ll be digging up fragments of stained glass from the Saint-Chapelle from his shoulders for the rest of his life.
And he can’t say he doesn’t deserve that, that he let his little trail of revenge and what he called redemption get so far as involving her again, arousing Bellec’s suspicions when Mirabeau had agreed to help her. It was the right thing, but even those have consequences.
“I think that...well, what I’m attempting to say is that seems to make sense.” Does that help? Ay all?
Balthier relaxes in his shoulders and smiles at him. “Thanks. I know it’s - I bet it’s hard, hearing someone poking about things like that, but - I mean well.” He hesitates. “He did mention some ideas? For the pains.” He can’t really picture Arno willingly taking his shirt off. “Does heat help at all? It helps me.”
“There’ve been times. Some more than others.” Arno admits. “And that’s a good thing. Especially if some of it’s still a bit physical and lingering. Those sort of things get old to deal with.”
And he usually doesn’t, that’s true. It’s less a matter of willingness as it is that he’s really not used to DOING that, though if it’s necessary, he’ll make the required wardrobe changes.
“Heat can be good. I like the heated stone massages they have.”
“Heated stones?” Balthier looks curious. “I’ve never tried that.” He’s leaning to make another sandwich. “I’m going to bring over some cookies, because I fear I’m a terrible person that enjoys dipping things into my coffee. And well - I haven’t had a full meal yet. Should I bring the pastries too? Or can you not handle one right now?”
“Feel free.” Arno nods. “I could probably pick at something.” Everything’s holding so far, at least, and he does feel a bit less muddled. “The coffee’s helping.”
“That’s good.” Balthier gets up. “So - Noah gossip. Since I promised some. What would you like to know?” Since - he can handle some lighter talk.
“Let’s start with the rumors I’ve been hearing about the invasion.” Arno says, eyedarting. “I'm told that he played quite a role.”
“Hardly! Hardly at all. An invasion team? A cluster? Eight of them showed up, and apparently they were threatening a police officer. And Noah backhanded one with a sword.” Balthier gestures. “Long swords, mind you. One in each hand. In the process, a window got shot, and the police officer ended up killing a - daisy? Chamomile plant? Some flower. Wrote a very nice note about it. I think he was a bit unnerved?”
He hesitates. “You haven’t seen Noah, have you? He’s about my height, but really heavy set in the shoulders. So I could see that being - a surprise. Suddenly a muscular man helping out and all.”