[ Hmm. He'll take his chances on the rickety chair. It feels more impolite to not take a seat at all after she's offered. Although he would feel terrible if he broke her chair... this is truly a dilemma he can't win at.
But there are more important matters than this chair. Like the fact that she obviously needs someone to talk to. ]
I hope you like them. I didn't have anything homemade on hand, so I had to quickly stop by the cafe. It sounded like you are in need of whatever small comforts can be found...
[ Honestly, if she wants both pastries, that's perfectly fine. He graciously takes the offered tea mug, blowing over it a bit before taking a small sip. Then he grows quiet, not wanting to pry, but here to listen. ]
[ It's such a small gesture, but after her rollercoaster of the past few weeks - past year? nothing makes sense anymore - it's enough to bring a swell of emotion into her heart. ]
It's....
[ Her words fail her right as she takes a seat opposite Siegfried, tongue still while her brain goes over a hundred different options of what to say. All the while she stares at the box of pastries, too afraid to look Siegfried in the eye. ]
Did you....have you ever had to kill someone you knew?
[ The directness and content of the question makes him immediately snap his eyes directly at her, evidently caught very by surprise. But he likes people like this, and he figures she doesn't have any need for pleasantries after such an... eventful time away from here.
The question hits home, perhaps more than she anticipates. It's been over 3 months since he's visited Gunther's grave, but regrettably, ending his life was the last memory he has of Feendrache. ]
Yes. It is a different type of grief from merely losing someone.
[ But they're not here to talk about him. He takes a slow sip of tea. ]
[ She should look at him, especially once he starts talking, but her courage fails her yet again, and she fiddles with her teacup rather than drinking any of it.
It's both comforting and extremely awful to hear that he's gone through something. Comforting, because it means he'll maybe understand, but awful because....because it's not something anyone should have to ever experience in their lives.
Silence falls again once Siegfried finishes, Annette once again searching for how best to word the jumble of emotions in her head. Funny, to be struggling so much when words had always tumbled straight out of her mouth before. ]
How could I not regret it? [ Her voice is slow and quiet, though the more she talks the louder it grows. ] I didn't—I didn't want to kill anyone! I know we had to, that it was either kill them or watch one of my friends die but—
[ She looks away, eyes too bright. ]
Some of them on the other side were my friends too, once.
[ Such a simple question gives him all of the context in the world, at the cost of Annette's emotions beginning to crumble. He can't pretend to understand— his battles had always been waged against nameless soldiers, his kills always justified as necessities for ridding the kingdom of a threat, for the greater good.
He had killed his friend, at his friend's behest. A mercy kill. And again, a kill justified to prevent the suffering of others.
Annette's kills seemed a lot more complicated than that. It made sense, given her talent in magic, that she would be recruited to fight, and even though he doesn't know the details, he still feels a pang of sadness at what she might've seen or done.
He sets his cup down. He's not good at this sort of thing, at reassurance. So he can only speak what's on his mind. ]
I think I understand, now.
You went through the worst kind of war of all. The kind of war that forces you to take arms against someone you might've fought alongside with in the past.
[ He grows quiet for a moment. It speaks volumes that she stands before him, and though her voice wavers and her eyes glisten, the fact that she's still here speaks volumes of her inner strength. ]
War is a necessary evil, but evil nonetheless. I'm sorry, Annette.
[ All he can do is lend and ear, unfortunately, and be here for her. ]
[ It's both relieving and stressful, to know that he understands. Relieving, because it means she can talk to him honestly about all her worries and fears, knowing that he won't take any of it the wrong way as an unbiased third party. Stressful, because the empathy she hears in his voice undoes her, loosening the chains she's carefully bound around the messy knot of emotions she's carried inside her ever since returning. ]
I just...what if there had been another way?
[ There hadn't been, she knows that as well as anyone, having borne witness to every incident that had splintered their houses further and further. But it hadn't stopped her from hoping and dreaming. A mistake, if her bruised heart is anything to go by now.
One tear spills over, and then another. She sniffles and dashes them away, but they don't stop falling. ]
Sorry...I promise I didn't invite you over t-to see me cry. [ Embarrassing! ] Do you need more water for your tea, o-or anything else?
[ Comfort has never been his strong suit, but he yearns to provide it nonetheless. His chest swells with sympathy, and while this isn't the first time he's had to witness the tragic effects of war, it is the first time that he has no context to draw from. ]
If there was, I trust you would have found it. I have faith that what you did, you did only because there was no alternative.
[ His tea is now long forgotten when her tears begin to fall. ]
Don't apologize. It's only natural that you'd feel this way. It means you have a good heart.
[ And he wouldn't have come if he didn't want to offer support. He hesitates, just for a moment. ]
May I give you a hug?
[ Funny how this place works. They've shared much more than a hug before, but this feels so much more personal. ]
[ If this were Mercie, or even Dimitri or Felix or Sylvain, she wouldn't hesitate in agreeing. They're her dear friends, of course, but more than that is the fact that they've all suffered the same fate she has—or worse, in some cases, losing not only friends but beloved family. But Siegfried, while also a friend - or so she hopes, maybe that's too forward of an assumption given the handful of times they've conversed - is someone she also admires and respects. Someone she wants to look strong and confident in front of and not…..well, this.
She can't deny she desperately wants to be held though, and to be told that even if things won't be alright that there'll at least be a way to move on.
Her voice is small when she replies, fingers still fussing with the handle of her tea cup as she continues avoiding looking him in the eye. Not that it really matters at this point; her emotions are all over her face, because she's never been good at hiding them. ]
[ Anyone with an ounce of empathy, faced with a friend crying, would feel inclined to comfort. He simply didn't want her to feel as though he was patronizing her. They know so little about each other, but he can't help but feel honored that she's chosen him to confide in.
Even if her troubles have no solution, and it is grief and regret to be processed, but perhaps never truly healed from.
He stands up, leaning down and offering her his hand to guide her onto her feet. It's hard to hug someone while they're still sitting down. ]
[ This is enough, or so she wants to say, but between the gentle close of his fingers around hers to pull her up and then the strength of his arms wrapping around her body, it's impossible to do much more than to let the tears fall. Into his shirt, unfortunately, as she buries her face into his chest and cries, but sacrifices have to be made. She'd apologize if she were capable of it, but at the moment she can only think about how sad she feels about all of it, and how comforting it is to be held by someone else. It's comforting enough that she just lets herself cry, regardless of how pathetic she sounds or how ugly she must certainly look or how long it all takes.
Eventually, her shoulders stop shaking and she's able to breathe again without her body threatening a fresh bout of tears. Sniffling, she blinks her eyes a few times, though she doesn't yet lift her head, wanting to stay in his embrace just a little bit longer. ]
Sorry.... [ One day she'll stop apologizing. ] I got your shirt all wet.
[ Siegfried doesn't know the right words to say, or if there even are any words that could possibly help her, with how fresh the memories seem to be. So he doesn't say anything. He simply embraces her how he thinks he would have liked to be comforted, in the times that he's lost comrades, men under his charge, friends. While he's honored that she trusts him enough to be vulnerable like this, hurting like this isn't something he wishes on anyone, much less a friend.
He pulls back slightly when Annette does, shaking his head and frowning. ]
Stop apologizing. You deserve to grieve, and it's cruel that you weren't even allowed to pay respects in your home.
[ He'd gotten that closure himself, at least. He falls quiet, then looks around for something to offer her— a tissue, a handkerchief, even a clean napkin. There's a small one underneath their teacups, which he reaches for, and uses it to gently dab at her tear-stained cheek. ]
I'll stay for as long or as little as you want me to. I wish I could do more.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But there are more important matters than this chair. Like the fact that she obviously needs someone to talk to. ]
I hope you like them. I didn't have anything homemade on hand, so I had to quickly stop by the cafe. It sounded like you are in need of whatever small comforts can be found...
[ Honestly, if she wants both pastries, that's perfectly fine. He graciously takes the offered tea mug, blowing over it a bit before taking a small sip. Then he grows quiet, not wanting to pry, but here to listen. ]
no subject
It's....
[ Her words fail her right as she takes a seat opposite Siegfried, tongue still while her brain goes over a hundred different options of what to say. All the while she stares at the box of pastries, too afraid to look Siegfried in the eye. ]
Did you....have you ever had to kill someone you knew?
no subject
The question hits home, perhaps more than she anticipates. It's been over 3 months since he's visited Gunther's grave, but regrettably, ending his life was the last memory he has of Feendrache. ]
Yes. It is a different type of grief from merely losing someone.
[ But they're not here to talk about him. He takes a slow sip of tea. ]
Do you regret it?
no subject
It's both comforting and extremely awful to hear that he's gone through something. Comforting, because it means he'll maybe understand, but awful because....because it's not something anyone should have to ever experience in their lives.
Silence falls again once Siegfried finishes, Annette once again searching for how best to word the jumble of emotions in her head. Funny, to be struggling so much when words had always tumbled straight out of her mouth before. ]
How could I not regret it? [ Her voice is slow and quiet, though the more she talks the louder it grows. ] I didn't—I didn't want to kill anyone! I know we had to, that it was either kill them or watch one of my friends die but—
[ She looks away, eyes too bright. ]
Some of them on the other side were my friends too, once.
no subject
He had killed his friend, at his friend's behest. A mercy kill. And again, a kill justified to prevent the suffering of others.
Annette's kills seemed a lot more complicated than that. It made sense, given her talent in magic, that she would be recruited to fight, and even though he doesn't know the details, he still feels a pang of sadness at what she might've seen or done.
He sets his cup down. He's not good at this sort of thing, at reassurance. So he can only speak what's on his mind. ]
I think I understand, now.
You went through the worst kind of war of all. The kind of war that forces you to take arms against someone you might've fought alongside with in the past.
[ He grows quiet for a moment. It speaks volumes that she stands before him, and though her voice wavers and her eyes glisten, the fact that she's still here speaks volumes of her inner strength. ]
War is a necessary evil, but evil nonetheless. I'm sorry, Annette.
[ All he can do is lend and ear, unfortunately, and be here for her. ]
going from smut to this is giving me whiplash
I just...what if there had been another way?
[ There hadn't been, she knows that as well as anyone, having borne witness to every incident that had splintered their houses further and further. But it hadn't stopped her from hoping and dreaming. A mistake, if her bruised heart is anything to go by now.
One tear spills over, and then another. She sniffles and dashes them away, but they don't stop falling. ]
Sorry...I promise I didn't invite you over t-to see me cry. [ Embarrassing! ] Do you need more water for your tea, o-or anything else?
[ Anything to give her a distraction. ]
no subject
If there was, I trust you would have found it. I have faith that what you did, you did only because there was no alternative.
[ His tea is now long forgotten when her tears begin to fall. ]
Don't apologize. It's only natural that you'd feel this way. It means you have a good heart.
[ And he wouldn't have come if he didn't want to offer support. He hesitates, just for a moment. ]
May I give you a hug?
[ Funny how this place works. They've shared much more than a hug before, but this feels so much more personal. ]
no subject
She can't deny she desperately wants to be held though, and to be told that even if things won't be alright that there'll at least be a way to move on.
Her voice is small when she replies, fingers still fussing with the handle of her tea cup as she continues avoiding looking him in the eye. Not that it really matters at this point; her emotions are all over her face, because she's never been good at hiding them. ]
Only if you want to.
[ Yes please. ]
no subject
[ Anyone with an ounce of empathy, faced with a friend crying, would feel inclined to comfort. He simply didn't want her to feel as though he was patronizing her. They know so little about each other, but he can't help but feel honored that she's chosen him to confide in.
Even if her troubles have no solution, and it is grief and regret to be processed, but perhaps never truly healed from.
He stands up, leaning down and offering her his hand to guide her onto her feet. It's hard to hug someone while they're still sitting down. ]
I only wish there was more I could do.
no subject
Eventually, her shoulders stop shaking and she's able to breathe again without her body threatening a fresh bout of tears. Sniffling, she blinks her eyes a few times, though she doesn't yet lift her head, wanting to stay in his embrace just a little bit longer. ]
Sorry.... [ One day she'll stop apologizing. ] I got your shirt all wet.
you don't have to reply to this but i wanted to
He pulls back slightly when Annette does, shaking his head and frowning. ]
Stop apologizing. You deserve to grieve, and it's cruel that you weren't even allowed to pay respects in your home.
[ He'd gotten that closure himself, at least. He falls quiet, then looks around for something to offer her— a tissue, a handkerchief, even a clean napkin. There's a small one underneath their teacups, which he reaches for, and uses it to gently dab at her tear-stained cheek. ]
I'll stay for as long or as little as you want me to. I wish I could do more.