Written apologies would never work for Nina. She needed to see his face, hear his voice, know he was truly apologetic and not just bullshitting her with words that could not convey emotion to the degree she needed.
"Do you even know why I'm angry, Gadriel?" A genuine question. "I understand why you think the way you do, about magic — sorcery — and I know why you might think I'm somehow corrupted by it. There's only one type of magic that can corrupt anything where I'm from, and I'm pretty sure this isn't it." She raised a hand as if to stop him, like she expected an objection. "That said, this isn't my world, it's not your world. But you know more than me, and I trust you, without question, to do what's best for me if I can't make the choice myself. I trust you so much, that sometimes I think you might be right about the Chaos and corruption and everything, especially now with this weird... whatever is going on with me." A vague wave of her hand as if to indicate the flames.
"Chaos could be here. That's why I went to see Loki, to try and prove to us both that maybe it was just some... fluke. And then you're accusing me of blaming you — and maybe it sounded like it, but I don't — and wandering off with Loki when I'm confused and scared and I needed you there. I needed my brother, because I didn't understand what was happening. I still don't. And you left. Why do you keep leaving?"
He cried writing that apology, Nina, and as a result had filled up an entire jar of venom from his stupid Betcher's glands. And he is struggling with them now, because if he barfed up venom in front of her again...ridiculous. He was just ridiculous.
He stepped cautiously closer, and dropped down to both knees in front of her, reaching, and hoping, she would let him take her hands. "Loki said you were fine. You said you were fine. I have no real knowledge to argue." He didn't deserve her trust, but he bowed his head when she spoke under the weight of it.
"Loki." He didn't want to say what was not his to be said, so he would talk of his own experience. "When we are Aspirants to our Orders, we endure many trials: frozen environments with no resources. Fighting each other to the death. Watching your fellow aspirants fall and die and know it could be you and wondering why it wasn't you. It." He struggled for a word and didn't find one. "It hurts and if you let it, it can get you killed. After a while, we are trained out of such weakness, through exposure. Through hypnoindoctrination. None of those things bother me anymore. I have stepped over the bodies of my fallen brothers to continue to fight. But it does not mean I do not remember that feeling. And the knowledge of how dangerous it is to be there. I was trying to help him, since it was I who...broke him."
Who knew how much of that made any sense to her. He was never good at explaining his world. "And now I have hurt you." Not broken, because he's not sure that's possible. "Please. I won't leave you again. Just tell me what I can do."
For a long moment, it seemed as if she wouldn't. But she relented, offering both her hands for him to take, squeezing her fingers around his.
Nina listened and she understood, perhaps more than he knew, about certain aspects he mentioned. She always hated hearing stories even vaguely similar to her own. Fighting each other to the death, always wondering if you would be next, wondering still why it wasn't. It was why she was the way she was — why fighting was all she knew. Because if you stop fighting, you're dead.
"You know, I went through something... sort of similar. When I was a kid." It wasn't an order. She wasn't being trained — but a part of her always wanted to say that Gadriel had been forced, too. He never had a choice, did he? "I was kidnapped by this — they're called the Guild of Shadows, when I was seven. They threw me in these pits with other kids, made us fight each other to the death, locked us up in cages with collars on our necks when we weren't performing for the nobles that came to bet on us. Every day I wondered if I would survive the next fight, why I had to see so many others die. They became my brothers and sisters, the ones that survived, but I never... recovered." All that to say — she understood, at least to a degree. "Maybe it's good you went with him, then."
But he was right, she had been hurt. Nina would always admit to her selfishness, though. "There's nothing to do, Gadriel. Just trust me. Stay alive. I need you here, and I need you safe."
Once one of the Astartes chapters had shown interest in you, you really had no choice, but to try not to die. But Gadriel had wanted it, as well, to leave his family and their shameful legacy behind him. To become someone new. Someone who was judged by his own deeds and actions.
And as a Greyshield, and as an Ultramarine, he had been a success. It was only here that everything he did seemed to go wrong.
Like pulling Nina into an embrace. Because she understood, too, and it was as awful for her as it was for him, for Loki. She'd probably resist and even if she didn't, his armor is not designed to be hugged against. It is hard and lumpy and she would probably trip over his legs as he pulled her close, but he tried anyway. Partly because if he was hugging her, she wouldn't have to see his face. "I am safe, sister. I will not leave you."
She hated that stupid armor sometimes. Wished he'd take the damn thing off once in a while. But it was a part of him and she'd be damned of she tried to change him or be accused of doing as much.
So she hugged him, cursing when she half stumbled over his leg, her arms around him and squeezing as best she could around the massive hunk of metal.
"Until you have to." She murmured. "You're going to go home, eventually, and you'll leave me then." It was not something she had thought about much until recently; until her feelings for Davrin really came to the forefront and the realization that she didn't actually want to die reared its ugly head. She didn't want to leave anyone here, as much as she didn't want to leave anyone at home. "So you can't abandon me before that."
What's he supposed to wear, exactly around here? Bedsheets? No one tailors for a nine foot tall guy wider than most doors.
He was not sure he can go home, the thought of what might happen with all his exposure to the sorcery here tearing through him, rupturing him like a broken Geller field.... He didn't want to think about it. And he was not going to, right now. "Until I have to." He meant that both ways. Until he had to leave. Until he had to risk what awaited him and his brothers.
Oops he might be squeezing a little too hard. He's not good at hugging.
Someone could probably figure it out, if he cared to ask.
Nina grunted but endured for a few seconds, not wanting to break his hold for both their sakes. It was only when her side started to ache that she patted his back. "Ease up, brother." She murmured. "You're going to snap me in half."
"Oh. Sorry." He released her, moving his hands to her shoulders, giving the ability to take a breath again. "We will get through this together." He hoped. "You can still punch me if it would make you feel better."
Nina inhaled deep. It was like hugging Caleb times ten — bear hugs from Gadriel could definitely kill someone. "Do you want me to punch you?" Maybe it would make him feel better.
Hey, that fist came awfully close to, uh. Just ouch.
She could have hit his other thigh--it's healed by now, just one more scar on the maze of scars on his skin. "Not your best, but all right." He's not going to let her go thinking she entirely won.
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"Do you even know why I'm angry, Gadriel?" A genuine question. "I understand why you think the way you do, about magic — sorcery — and I know why you might think I'm somehow corrupted by it. There's only one type of magic that can corrupt anything where I'm from, and I'm pretty sure this isn't it." She raised a hand as if to stop him, like she expected an objection. "That said, this isn't my world, it's not your world. But you know more than me, and I trust you, without question, to do what's best for me if I can't make the choice myself. I trust you so much, that sometimes I think you might be right about the Chaos and corruption and everything, especially now with this weird... whatever is going on with me." A vague wave of her hand as if to indicate the flames.
"Chaos could be here. That's why I went to see Loki, to try and prove to us both that maybe it was just some... fluke. And then you're accusing me of blaming you — and maybe it sounded like it, but I don't — and wandering off with Loki when I'm confused and scared and I needed you there. I needed my brother, because I didn't understand what was happening. I still don't. And you left. Why do you keep leaving?"
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He stepped cautiously closer, and dropped down to both knees in front of her, reaching, and hoping, she would let him take her hands. "Loki said you were fine. You said you were fine. I have no real knowledge to argue." He didn't deserve her trust, but he bowed his head when she spoke under the weight of it.
"Loki." He didn't want to say what was not his to be said, so he would talk of his own experience. "When we are Aspirants to our Orders, we endure many trials: frozen environments with no resources. Fighting each other to the death. Watching your fellow aspirants fall and die and know it could be you and wondering why it wasn't you. It." He struggled for a word and didn't find one. "It hurts and if you let it, it can get you killed. After a while, we are trained out of such weakness, through exposure. Through hypnoindoctrination. None of those things bother me anymore. I have stepped over the bodies of my fallen brothers to continue to fight. But it does not mean I do not remember that feeling. And the knowledge of how dangerous it is to be there. I was trying to help him, since it was I who...broke him."
Who knew how much of that made any sense to her. He was never good at explaining his world. "And now I have hurt you." Not broken, because he's not sure that's possible. "Please. I won't leave you again. Just tell me what I can do."
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Nina listened and she understood, perhaps more than he knew, about certain aspects he mentioned. She always hated hearing stories even vaguely similar to her own. Fighting each other to the death, always wondering if you would be next, wondering still why it wasn't. It was why she was the way she was — why fighting was all she knew. Because if you stop fighting, you're dead.
"You know, I went through something... sort of similar. When I was a kid." It wasn't an order. She wasn't being trained — but a part of her always wanted to say that Gadriel had been forced, too. He never had a choice, did he? "I was kidnapped by this — they're called the Guild of Shadows, when I was seven. They threw me in these pits with other kids, made us fight each other to the death, locked us up in cages with collars on our necks when we weren't performing for the nobles that came to bet on us. Every day I wondered if I would survive the next fight, why I had to see so many others die. They became my brothers and sisters, the ones that survived, but I never... recovered." All that to say — she understood, at least to a degree. "Maybe it's good you went with him, then."
But he was right, she had been hurt. Nina would always admit to her selfishness, though. "There's nothing to do, Gadriel. Just trust me. Stay alive. I need you here, and I need you safe."
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And as a Greyshield, and as an Ultramarine, he had been a success. It was only here that everything he did seemed to go wrong.
Like pulling Nina into an embrace. Because she understood, too, and it was as awful for her as it was for him, for Loki. She'd probably resist and even if she didn't, his armor is not designed to be hugged against. It is hard and lumpy and she would probably trip over his legs as he pulled her close, but he tried anyway. Partly because if he was hugging her, she wouldn't have to see his face. "I am safe, sister. I will not leave you."
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So she hugged him, cursing when she half stumbled over his leg, her arms around him and squeezing as best she could around the massive hunk of metal.
"Until you have to." She murmured. "You're going to go home, eventually, and you'll leave me then." It was not something she had thought about much until recently; until her feelings for Davrin really came to the forefront and the realization that she didn't actually want to die reared its ugly head. She didn't want to leave anyone here, as much as she didn't want to leave anyone at home. "So you can't abandon me before that."
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He was not sure he can go home, the thought of what might happen with all his exposure to the sorcery here tearing through him, rupturing him like a broken Geller field.... He didn't want to think about it. And he was not going to, right now. "Until I have to." He meant that both ways. Until he had to leave. Until he had to risk what awaited him and his brothers.
Oops he might be squeezing a little too hard. He's not good at hugging.
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Nina grunted but endured for a few seconds, not wanting to break his hold for both their sakes. It was only when her side started to ache that she patted his back. "Ease up, brother." She murmured. "You're going to snap me in half."
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"Oh. Sorry." He released her, moving his hands to her shoulders, giving the ability to take a breath again. "We will get through this together." He hoped. "You can still punch me if it would make you feel better."
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Nina inhaled deep. It was like hugging Caleb times ten — bear hugs from Gadriel could definitely kill someone. "Do you want me to punch you?" Maybe it would make him feel better.
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"Not really. I just do not want you angry at me anymore." So, maybe a little friendly punch.
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"I'm not angry at you anymore." But fine. She pulled her fist back and punched him in the thigh — the one he didn't stab earlier. "Good?"
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She could have hit his other thigh--it's healed by now, just one more scar on the maze of scars on his skin. "Not your best, but all right." He's not going to let her go thinking she entirely won.
Though she did.
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"You know what? Nevermind, I'm still mad at you." She wasn't, but now she was going to pretend she was!