[He'd expected a fight. Even now, presented with what for all the world someone who looked like an injured and tired old man, just knowing who he was primed him for a fight. For after all, it was Gaius van Baelsar, the Black Wolf himself, why would a few injuries slow him down? Why would being on an entirely different star mean anything to him? The monster the miqo'te had concocted in his mind of the Garlean didn't care of the location nor of his wounds, surely he only existed to sow disorder and devastation.
And so to instead see the weapon, still housed within its sheath, tossed at his feet in an open display of surrender, to hear the other man admit his faults... It clashed, completely flew in the face of the assumption that the older man was nothing but a monster. Denied that... but fit in perfectly with the portrait he'd painted of him before, when his identity was still a mystery. Of a father searching for his daughter, injured and alone.
He wanted so badly to hold onto his conviction, and his grip tightened on the rapier to the point where the more delicate parts of the hilt groaned under his fingers, his teeth threatening to pierce his tongue.
... He couldn't. The moment the fight left him was visible as his shoulders sagged and the fire in his eyes dimmed. Disappointed, at what he couldn't think of at the moment, the feeling just sank into him quite suddenly. He couldn't... Not after the help he'd rendered, not after hearing even a fragment of his story. The idea of orphaning a child, orphaning her twice over...]
... And they'd think me a soft old fool as well. [The words were bitter, and he lightly kicked the gunblade back towards the older man.]
I don't draw my blade against fallen foes. ... No matter who they are.
[So the tales of the Duelist's chivalry were accurate after all.]
[And despite the confidence in staking his own life on that hope... Gaius releases a slow breath, unaware he'd even been holding it, as the other man kicks Heirsbane back to him, though the tension doesn't abate entirely until his answer confirms it. It's as if a plug was pulled, the way the adrenaline drains from him so quickly, because had the man truly wished to kill him...]
That makes you a better man than most.
[Nothing mocking. Not a slight, or a jest. While the wounds made deeper by the man's words are still so raw, not even bitter anger is left, replaced with only aching exhaustion as he once more turns away from the man, grabbing the discarded gunblade and slowly pulling the weapon across his lap. And there's a silent prayer to an old friend, then, apologizing for mistreating his gift in such a way.]
And General Aldynn would no doubt appreciate you leaving him enough of me to still place on trial, when we can finally return home. [When. Because it has to be when, he has to get back to Allie and he has to make things right.]
...for what little it may be worth, I am sorry for your losses. All of them.
[They were accurate, those who would still call themselves a Duelist followed that code, no matter how much they might wish to break it. And oh, how he wished now that he were a less honorable man. How he wished for just a moment, just a fleeting, short lived, shameful moment, that he could be as callous and as selfish as Lambard was.
But the stain it'd leave on his soul, how he'd be haunted by it if he were to draw his rapier now... It wasn't worth sacrificing that honor for. Nothing ever would be. Gaius's exhaustion would be mirrored back at him on the mage's own face, all that bitterness equally drained out, replaced now with empty, hollow resignation.
... Even hearing of the promise of a trial did nothing to alleviate it.]
I'm sure he would. His passion for Ala Mhigo may run even deeper than my own... [Were that he could be as brutal as the Bull.]
... Your apologies will not return my comrades to me, Baelsar.
[And indeed, the other man may very knew well of which ones precisely he spoke of, with the veneration that hung in the word.]
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And so to instead see the weapon, still housed within its sheath, tossed at his feet in an open display of surrender, to hear the other man admit his faults... It clashed, completely flew in the face of the assumption that the older man was nothing but a monster. Denied that... but fit in perfectly with the portrait he'd painted of him before, when his identity was still a mystery. Of a father searching for his daughter, injured and alone.
He wanted so badly to hold onto his conviction, and his grip tightened on the rapier to the point where the more delicate parts of the hilt groaned under his fingers, his teeth threatening to pierce his tongue.
... He couldn't. The moment the fight left him was visible as his shoulders sagged and the fire in his eyes dimmed. Disappointed, at what he couldn't think of at the moment, the feeling just sank into him quite suddenly. He couldn't... Not after the help he'd rendered, not after hearing even a fragment of his story. The idea of orphaning a child, orphaning her twice over...]
... And they'd think me a soft old fool as well. [The words were bitter, and he lightly kicked the gunblade back towards the older man.]
I don't draw my blade against fallen foes. ... No matter who they are.
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[And despite the confidence in staking his own life on that hope... Gaius releases a slow breath, unaware he'd even been holding it, as the other man kicks Heirsbane back to him, though the tension doesn't abate entirely until his answer confirms it. It's as if a plug was pulled, the way the adrenaline drains from him so quickly, because had the man truly wished to kill him...]
That makes you a better man than most.
[Nothing mocking. Not a slight, or a jest. While the wounds made deeper by the man's words are still so raw, not even bitter anger is left, replaced with only aching exhaustion as he once more turns away from the man, grabbing the discarded gunblade and slowly pulling the weapon across his lap. And there's a silent prayer to an old friend, then, apologizing for mistreating his gift in such a way.]
And General Aldynn would no doubt appreciate you leaving him enough of me to still place on trial, when we can finally return home. [When. Because it has to be when, he has to get back to Allie and he has to make things right.]
...for what little it may be worth, I am sorry for your losses. All of them.
no subject
But the stain it'd leave on his soul, how he'd be haunted by it if he were to draw his rapier now... It wasn't worth sacrificing that honor for. Nothing ever would be. Gaius's exhaustion would be mirrored back at him on the mage's own face, all that bitterness equally drained out, replaced now with empty, hollow resignation.
... Even hearing of the promise of a trial did nothing to alleviate it.]
I'm sure he would. His passion for Ala Mhigo may run even deeper than my own... [Were that he could be as brutal as the Bull.]
... Your apologies will not return my comrades to me, Baelsar.
[And indeed, the other man may very knew well of which ones precisely he spoke of, with the veneration that hung in the word.]