31.Jan.12, 06:21 AM
Talian inhaled slowly. He looked back at the rider, his eyes somehow filled with both defiance and fear at the same time. He didn't look away, though he wanted to greatly, his breaths becoming shallower and shallower as he tried to formulate a response. His hands, normally steady to a fault started shaking nervously. They never shook. In his twenty-four turns of life, he wasn't sure if they'd even shaken so badly. They didn't shake at all when he stitched flesh for the first time, when he removed that poor man's rib, when he stood before the masters' committee...or even when he sat across from B'jin at the table on the candidate isle. They were shaking now, though.
He finally looked away, the light draining from his eyes as quickly as the color from his face. It was a sign of defeat, his way of deferring to the man who so obviously owned him now. It was also partially in shame. For the first time since arrival, a tear trickled down his cheek. He hated the idea of B'jin (or that terrible beast Larrikith) noticing it.
He inhaled again, trying to catch his breath. There was a long pause while he gathered himself, unwilling to speak until he was certain he wouldn't cry. "If you are allowed to take everything I have from me," he said hoarsely, "then I should be allowed to call her whatever I want." There was an icy pause. "..It won't happen again." His favorite line from his days at the Hall. It was the only correct end to any argument with Talerian.
He wiped his eyes and swallowed hard. Just because he ought to be allowed to didn't mean he assumed he'd get to. His inability to deal with aggression was obvious, as he didn't even try to defend himself in any other way. He held still for a long time without speaking, as if fearful of what would happen if he tried to move.
He didn't know what else to say. He was suddenly reminded of everything he'd lost, perhaps even by his own comment. Things had finally been working. He'd finally gotten away from his father, gotten the recognition he deserved...his life had finally been in his own hands. Anyone who would just snatch him away from that was a monster, and would remain so in his mind forever. If there was any hope that he'd be able to reconcile with B'jin, there was no longer any hope that he'd completely forgive him.
"...Can I go now?"
He finally looked away, the light draining from his eyes as quickly as the color from his face. It was a sign of defeat, his way of deferring to the man who so obviously owned him now. It was also partially in shame. For the first time since arrival, a tear trickled down his cheek. He hated the idea of B'jin (or that terrible beast Larrikith) noticing it.
He inhaled again, trying to catch his breath. There was a long pause while he gathered himself, unwilling to speak until he was certain he wouldn't cry. "If you are allowed to take everything I have from me," he said hoarsely, "then I should be allowed to call her whatever I want." There was an icy pause. "..It won't happen again." His favorite line from his days at the Hall. It was the only correct end to any argument with Talerian.
He wiped his eyes and swallowed hard. Just because he ought to be allowed to didn't mean he assumed he'd get to. His inability to deal with aggression was obvious, as he didn't even try to defend himself in any other way. He held still for a long time without speaking, as if fearful of what would happen if he tried to move.
He didn't know what else to say. He was suddenly reminded of everything he'd lost, perhaps even by his own comment. Things had finally been working. He'd finally gotten away from his father, gotten the recognition he deserved...his life had finally been in his own hands. Anyone who would just snatch him away from that was a monster, and would remain so in his mind forever. If there was any hope that he'd be able to reconcile with B'jin, there was no longer any hope that he'd completely forgive him.
"...Can I go now?"