[ He arches an eyebrow slightly at her wording. He knows there is much she did not say - the summary she'd given was already full of information they needed, all of it overwhelming. And while she had mentioned his shade, in the casting Emet-Selch had done to grip close his memories, he's still not entirely certain of her meaning. ]
'Like this'? Was I so different, in Emet-Selch's memories?
[ He wonders at that. At how his friend remembered him. Saw him. Sees him. How would it differ from who he was? ]
[And not only because of his mask— perhaps it was that sundered souls could not perceive those who came before them, or the nature of the shades themselves, but when she had encountered his very soul on the moon, it had been much the same.]
And hear your voice. I could understand before, but it wasn't the same as having a conversation the way we are now. The nature of magic and souls, perhaps— but you were still as kind and generous as you've shown yourself to be here.
[This version of him was also notably more affectionate, though she supposes that may have simply been lost in translation— not to mention the circumstances of their previous meetings hardly lended themselves well to such things, being what they were.
She gives him a soft, affectionate smile of her own as he reaches over to tug on her hair, offering no protest.]
'Butting heads' would be... putting it gently, I think. [At that, her smile falters.] In the end, only one of us could remain standing. I wish it could have been otherwise. That we could have reasoned with one another.
[ Hythlodaeus gives a soft sigh at that and shifts on her bed, stretching his arms out behind him as he tips his head back to stare up at the ceiling. ]
Emet-Selch has always been... particular. And particularly stubborn. I doubt that, after an eon of dedicating himself to one purpose, one outcome, he would have been easy to reason with. To sway. I do not know what events might have haunted his path to lead him to the destination you found him in, but... [ Emet-Selch's angry denial resounded in his ears but underneath it, he could still hear the heartbreak in it. The fear. Protest it as Emet-Selch might, Hythlodaeus suspected they both could be pushed to great and terrible acts, with such unrelenting motivations. Couldn't they all? ]
Whatever the outcome of your visit here... I only hope it worthwhile. Helpful. Perhaps then, somehow, it will make all that was sacrificed... worth it. Mean something more.
[She shifts her own position slightly, turning so that she's sitting beside him as he stretches out, hooking one foot beneath herself. Of course, she agrees with him— after millennia of being dedicated to his purpose as he had been, it was impossible to imagine that things could have ended differently. She still wishes that circumstances had allowed for it, but the fact that they simply could not made it all the more heartbreaking.]
That's my hope, as well.
[Her voice is soft, her expression becoming somber.]
He wanted me to remember you— all of you, and what once was. I don't want that legacy to be lost.
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no subject
'Like this'? Was I so different, in Emet-Selch's memories?
[ He wonders at that. At how his friend remembered him. Saw him. Sees him. How would it differ from who he was? ]
no subject
I never had the chance to see your face, for one.
[And not only because of his mask— perhaps it was that sundered souls could not perceive those who came before them, or the nature of the shades themselves, but when she had encountered his very soul on the moon, it had been much the same.]
And hear your voice. I could understand before, but it wasn't the same as having a conversation the way we are now. The nature of magic and souls, perhaps— but you were still as kind and generous as you've shown yourself to be here.
no subject
[ He chuckles softly at that, and then reaches out to playfully tug on a stray lock of hair that curls against one of her shoulders. ]
From the sound of it, though, you and Emet-Selch butted heads a great deal, I take it?
no subject
[This version of him was also notably more affectionate, though she supposes that may have simply been lost in translation— not to mention the circumstances of their previous meetings hardly lended themselves well to such things, being what they were.
She gives him a soft, affectionate smile of her own as he reaches over to tug on her hair, offering no protest.]
'Butting heads' would be... putting it gently, I think. [At that, her smile falters.] In the end, only one of us could remain standing. I wish it could have been otherwise. That we could have reasoned with one another.
no subject
Emet-Selch has always been... particular. And particularly stubborn. I doubt that, after an eon of dedicating himself to one purpose, one outcome, he would have been easy to reason with. To sway. I do not know what events might have haunted his path to lead him to the destination you found him in, but... [ Emet-Selch's angry denial resounded in his ears but underneath it, he could still hear the heartbreak in it. The fear. Protest it as Emet-Selch might, Hythlodaeus suspected they both could be pushed to great and terrible acts, with such unrelenting motivations. Couldn't they all? ]
Whatever the outcome of your visit here... I only hope it worthwhile. Helpful. Perhaps then, somehow, it will make all that was sacrificed... worth it. Mean something more.
no subject
That's my hope, as well.
[Her voice is soft, her expression becoming somber.]
He wanted me to remember you— all of you, and what once was. I don't want that legacy to be lost.