thedressingroom | (no subject)

[There's a pile of books beside the beanbag this wolf is sitting in, a collection that seems to dip into some fairly advanced magic. Remus frowns as he flips through the pages. He's decided that he really ought to take advantage of his time here, and this little studying session promises to be the first of many. He seems preoccupied, though, and occasionally stares off into the corner of the room instead of at the pages before him, thinking about all he has to look forward to when he heads back to the cottage.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

entrailbound

[Ah. Alright, now he understands- he's met a boy with more ideals than sense, more honour than self-preservation. Not altogether a bad thing, really, as far as things go.]

Better to go into battle well-rested than weary, there is no shame in that. Wars take years. [Centuries to the Aesir, sometimes. But they are mortals, they can't afford to keep a war going that long, surely.]

From:

novumlupine

I shouldn't have gone into all of that.

From:

entrailbound

What do you wish to know of the Aesir? Or of me?

From:

novumlupine

I want to know... well, everything you're alright with me knowing. Pretend that I know nothing, tell me your... your story.

From:

entrailbound

What a bold request.

Well. Odin Borson, All-Father, King of Asgard and Guardian of the Nine Realms had two sons. One was bright as day, a true warrior of the Aesir- that is to say, he was dull, foolish, and far too good-natured to be a good king, and yet he was heir to the throne. The other was night, if the elder was day- his path lay through sorcery and words, things that were usually the domain of the womenfolk of Asgard. The two brothers, however, were steadfast brothers despite their differences.

I shall not tell of their childhood, except to say that the younger, knowing that the elder was to be king, tried in every way he could to dissuade him from actions too brutal or stupid. He did not always succeed. Of course, the younger also took his pleasure where he could, in seeing a fool made of his brother. After all, is that not the way of siblings?

[And so he goes, beginning to narrate the story of the coronation, of the Jotunn disrupting, and Thor's banishment. He speaks like he's reciting a tale in the mead halls, his voice sometimes almost seeming like it's veering into a long melodic poem, only to turn sharply back to low, murmuring prose. After all they call him the Silvertongue, and it is not only on account of his lies.]

From:

novumlupine

[Remus is quite a good listener. He watches Loki closely as he speaks, a slight frown creasing between his eyes occasionally, an expression of interest and concern, though also occasionally of sympathy and even pity. It's a painful story in some ways, in part because it reminds him of some he's read in books lately when searching through histories of the war - people he thought he knew rediscovered through different eyes, their private pains laid bare. He has to stifle some urges to offer Loki some chocolate or a comforting cup of tea because he doesn't want to interrupt him.]

From:

entrailbound

[As he spoke, he had gazed downward, at the floor, pulling words fast and thick from his mind; now he looks back up, at the conclusion.]

And so the younger fell- and so the story ends. [He huffs a small chuckle.] Surely your appetite for tales has been satisfied, with such a lengthy one.

From:

novumlupine

Could you ever make peace with him?

From:

entrailbound

[He scoffs.]

When he has learnt to listen to me, even on occasion, then perhaps. When he has learnt that the world is not his to take, like a ripe fruit.

Perhaps.

From:

novumlupine

But if he told you that he has learned that, or even that he never thought it, would you believe him?

From:

entrailbound

He would have to prove the former. As for the latter- he should have thought of it, no? Thousands of years, Remus. Not decades, or even centuries. We have been brothers for millenia.

And three days on Midgard somehow change what millenia could not? No.

From:

novumlupine

[Asks the room, compulsively, to provide two cups of tea on a tray. He takes one up and offers it to Loki curiously.]

Do you feel compassion for those who are not involved, who still might suffer in the crossfire?

From:

entrailbound

[He eyes the tea for a bit, unsure, before he takes it. Tea is something as new to him as chocolate is.]

Their lives were already short to begin with. [Apprehensive, he takes a little sip. Interesting.]

From:

novumlupine

It would seem as if that would give them more meaning, if so much importance must be packed into a smaller space.

From:

entrailbound

As a falling star? [He regards Remus, cocking his head to the side. All these mortals now around him... It's certainly a new experience.]

A life is only as important as you choose.

From:

novumlupine

Ah, unless someone takes that choice away from you.

From:

entrailbound

When are we ever given that choice? Even the Aesir die.

From:

novumlupine

You must admit there's a bit more of a choice when someone else doesn't... take that life away.

From:

entrailbound

If they are present at such scenes of carnage, then they are fated to die that day.

Are you now going to tell me there is no such thing as fate?

From:

novumlupine

It's impossible to know, really.

In my experience, however, I see "fate" used most often as a convenient way of sidestepping free will.

From:

entrailbound

Fate is more complex than that, I should think, than a mere denial of free will. It is there all the same.

From:

novumlupine

Could you elaborate?

From:

entrailbound

To put it another way- it is a hand, a thread, pulling you where it wishes you to go. You cannot see it, but is it still not possible to cut that thread? But I suppose that is the trick. Seeing it.