isleofavalon | And I remember how we'd play

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And I remember how we'd play

🧙 WHO: Hendrik and Jasper
⚔️️ WHAT: Private conversation
🕒 WHEN: Last week of April
🗺️ WHERE: Home
⚠️ WARNINGS: War, violence, massacres

[The first couple of days pass without noise or incident. Dust is brushed and binned, floors are polished and books collected and shelved. Clothes belonging to heroes are washed and hung to dry. The iron maiden cannot feel cotton or silk beneath her fingertips but she draws luxurious red ties out a washing bowl and moves them to an airer. Daydreaming aloud her fantasies: scattered between her tasks and desires to help the wise Sir Jasper.

Soon, a quiet helper begins transforming into a confident one. Bubbling with happiness, she regails Hendrik about Sir Jasper, the smartest knight in the kingdom who brought daddy home when the odds were against them. The cheerful smile of a child brightens her face - her young mind unable to comprehend why asserting the man who rescued daddy will surely get them home is a bad idea.

Jasper avoids such nonsense. His morning routine of a shower and a cup of tea is amended when he begins strolling around the neighbourhood. Footsteps echo on the stairs when he returns home to spend time revising in the study, its books and desk becoming his retreat. The solitude and isolation deepens and darkens his mood and he excludes her by locking the door. Lights inside only dim when he comes downstairs for dinner.

Come the evening, he leaves his familiar to tidy plates and cutlery and escapes to the porch. One moment of thought, two seconds of regrets and his expression hardens. He skulks far away from the kitchen and takes a seat on a bench. With a small, tired groan he slinks against the backrest and begins slumbering. Rain patters upon the canopy as he crosses a leg and leans into his fist.]

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[After witnessing so many people with familiars walking around the city, Hendrik had become accustomed to the idea that people kept their familiars nearby or at least retained good relations with him. That Jasper proves to be an exception should really not surprise him at this point.

Nothing about Jasper should surprise him at this point.

Still, the remarks made by the iron maiden monster still weigh on Hendrik's mind into the evening. Leaving his familiar to keep the other company, he steps out on the back porch, frowning at the continued rainfall that has gone from helping the vegetation to practically drowning it.

He says nothing for a long moment, brows knitting together as he focuses on the plants to the sides of the porch. He knows what he wants to talk about, but bringing up the subject is difficult.]

[Jasper carefully avoids looking at his old friend over the course of minutes. He watches the rain and listens to its little patters upon the earth. Fingers kneading his thighs, distracting his mind, unsettling nerves that prickle and pinch. Now he scarcely knows what to do with himself - and he folds his hands in his lap. He follows the path of the past and hides his feelings well.

Hendrik focusing his attention on the natural sights and smells remains a distraction, however. He leans back and keeps one hand beneath his chin. This is not how he envisaged the start of their meeting.]

Rain is good for mushrooms, so I've read.

[Guess he's not here to talk mushrooms.]

Not this much rain, unfortunately.

[There's always time to comment on mushrooms.

But the remark is enough to draw Hendrik's attention away from the surrounding plants and over to Jasper. He shouldn't put off this conversation, especially with the iron maiden already in the house.]

I believe I see now why you did not want your familiar here.

[Placing his hand on his knee and leaning forward, Jasper focuses intently on the sights and smells of the garden. Skin flushes warm, lungs constrict and it becomes a struggle to breathe. His bones ache from inhaling and he groans, fingers clutching his knees.]

You do?

[Lovely. This is splendid. His fingers claw into his knees. Doesn't this beat all?]

I believe so.

[He thinks back on that cheerful voice emanating from the rather eerie visage of the ghost doll, talking about things not ... quite true to the state of their world when they had left it.]

Do you find it annoying?

[There is nothing accusatory in the tone, but it isn't an altogether curious question, either. An attempt at probing, as terrible at it as he is.]

What an amusing question.

[The voice out of his mouth is flat and emotionless. His thoughts on the matter isolated and boxed into some forgotten place. He leans against the bench and finds himself distracted by the rain for a moment.]

It is irritating. Are you never bothered by the stories of children?

[Does Hendrik know the difference between annoyance and irritation? Part of him hopes not. Part of him hopes so.]

Bothered? I suppose.

[Bothered certainly gives a different impression than simply being annoyed by the monster. It leaves him looking off to the plants by the side of the porch again.]

Children's stories often come from a place of innocent misunderstanding. Especially when admiration comes into play.

[Though he speaks from experience, it wouldn't take much to apply his words elsewhere.]

[Jasper spends a moment looking towards the rear of the garden. Stone and earth, grass and soil, flowers and vegetable awaiting the beginning of summer. A memory of the Heliodorian sun. Hot and unforgiving during his years of isolation. He wastes second after second, silent so he might avoid speaking. This topic should have been left behind the day he estranged himself from his kingdom.

He sits with one leg upon a knee. He never asked to come to this world. Why must he welcome what comes of it?]

All the world is great and good in their eyes; I remember learning different from an early age. I doubt this monster should ever realise the same.

[And whose fault is that? He places a hand on his knee and tightens his lips.]

[Hendrik listens, any anger and upset currently muted by his genuine interest in what Jasper might say of the ghost familiar. He doesn't catch any notable discomfort at the moment, but there is a hope that it exists.]

Do you think it may learn? Even if it is a ghost, it is a monster, capable of thought.

My dear Hendrik, it is utterly deluded.

[An idle gesture - a performance of sorts - and his upset is banished. No longer found in his flat tone and expression but the act itself.]

How can it possibly learn anything?

[A deep frown appears on Hendrik's face as he listens to Jasper's dismissive words. Even if he did not often think about the monsters that he was killing in the name of the Heliodor, there was a reason why he did not underestimate them.

He curls his hands into fists to give himself something to focus on for a moment.]

Then there will be no issue if I tell her that the wise Sir Jasper had her father killed?

[Jasper pulls on his fringe before folding his hands within his lap. One reaches out to rest atop his knee, the other pressing against his waist. A deep breath to settle his nerves. All this threat will ensure is Hendrik puffing out his chest and nothing more.

He unfolds his legs and leans back against the bench, one arm resting along the top.]

That requires a cruelty unbecoming of you, does it not? I find it very unlikely you shall tell her everything.

You seem convinced that I would not entertain cruelty to disparage you in the eyes of your familiar.

[His flat tone belies the fact that Jasper is right; Hendrik knows that he cannot convince himself to say such a thing to the iron maiden if there is a chance the monster will understand and be eternally upset by the revelation.

But he can be annoyed by that reply.]

We have known each other many a year, have we not?

[Hendrik flattens his tone and makes no secret of his annoyance. In turn, he drops the act and looks at his old friend with a wistful expression clouding his eyes.]

You may have lost sight of the man I was, but I always had my eye on you. Even if you never noticed.

[He speaks with tired resignation. Once he had been grateful to know his friend so intimately that he could predict his responses and reactions. But now?]

[To that, Hendrik says nothing. Being petty isn't going to make him feel better, and it certainly won't resolve anything.

Instead, he marches off of the porch and into the yard proper, putting distance between them and hunkering down next to the vegetable plot. He needs to think, and trying to detect the tiny potato sprouts in the downpour at least provides focus.

Jasper abruptly being what seems to be honest is rather upsetting.]

[The issue hangs on the air, unsolved and unwanted. Jasper watches Hendrik leave, crossing his arms before clenching his fingers, unable to relax or even turn his knuckles white. It becomes difficult to sit still or even think. A terrible combination when he is hardly one to flee an altercation.

He stands up from the bench and calls out to the garden.]

Running to your flowers solves nothing, Hendrik.

Twenty years of issues can wait twenty minutes.

[If Jasper has anything to say to that, Hendrik ignores him to instead focus on the plants struggling to stay alive in the downpour. Even digging out a way for the excess water to flow into the river hasn't helped, considering he got to it so late... Maybe forcing the plants to grow and use the excess water in the soil would help?

He huffs, expending energy to make the little seedlings grow. It's not very impressive, but little green potato plant stalks and leaves start poking through the soil and spreading their roots throughout the plot.

...Maybe it's a good thing he didn't try to grow more vegetables at once. But he does feel a little better now.]

[Jasper miraculously manages to control his anger by balling his fingers into fists. He swallows his bitterness and swears not to reward Hendrik with the satisfaction of provoking his attention. Breathes deep, thinks clear. The only sound he hears is the splatter of rain upon the ground.

It lasts all of twenty seconds. He paces once around the porch, tension running around his shoulders, neck muscles taut. He takes a step indoors but finds himself thinking unclearly; coughing up years of anger and bitterness as he stalks into the garden.]

Oh, twenty years? How nice of you to admit there was ever a problem.

[Hendrik is in the process of standing up out of his crouch when he sees Jasper turn to stomp towards him, leaving the cover of the canopied porch. He frowns down at the other man, at least able to say something to those words as they find themselves standing in the rain.]

Admit? I was unaware there was a problem until everything fell apart.

[His entire body stiffens in anger. He takes a step closer before feeling intimidated by the height of the other man - stepping back to keep his distance. Rarely on these occasions does he appreciate being smaller than his old friend.

He clenches his fists over and over.]

And what would you say if I claim there was only a problem because you were blissfully ignorant?

[The step forward, only to fall back, is noticed and met with a stare from Hendrik. Was that... What was that? Was he uncomfortable even standing that close?

He shakes the thought from his head when he hears that accusatory tone aimed at him.]

Perhaps if someone else knew you would have realized how misplaced your anger is.

Nonsense. You must comprehend how absurd that is?

[Over the next handful of seconds, his gaze holds firm. Hoping and waiting for a reaction, he denies his own and pretend it doesn't mean anything. Only his thoughts turn towards the truth of what Hendrik is saying. It needles his thoughts and he finds himself looking away.

He scarcely cared for being noticed by his peers in comparison to his oldest companion. Hendrik's attention and care had been exceptionally more valuable.]

I rather wonder who might have bothered enough to notice. Nobody, I wager.

[Nobody had. That is another problem.]

Why is it absurd?

[He doesn't want to argue the point of who might have noticed. Someone was better than no one. Perhaps if Jasper had someone to turn to, he wouldn't have looked to him and somehow become so influenced...]

You cannot tell me that an outside voice would not have pointed out how extreme it would be to turn your back on humanity.

[Jasper is silent for a while. His lack of concern and consideration for other voices leading him to struggle with grasping the point. Is Hendrik saying that his friendship had been a burden.

He speaks quietly and with a small amount of hurt.]

This is all hypothetical. Why does it bother you?

[He doesn't acknowledge the point his old friend has made. He needs no reminders of his lack of connections.]

You raised the hypothetical, Jasper!

[He could rage more. He could bluster more. Jasper has practically set the munitions at his feet.

But it's-- This entire situation is unhelpful, from beginning to end. With a grimace, he runs his hand down his rain-soaked face and reaches for Jasper's shoulder, to usher him back to the porch.]

...This is absurd.

[Hendrik reaches forward, catching him by surprise, connecting with him in a supportive, guiding manner that causes him to pause and regain his mental balance. He raises neither a hand to push him aside, nor a foot to step away. It only lasts a second, but he looks at that hand, and considers how it helps him move. A supportive gesture missed and misinterpreted over years.

He tilts his head in confusion. Caught between feelings of being treated as both a man and chil. Should he be angry? Pleased ? Upset for what he's missed? He looks away at the garden, wary of being caught ruminating.]

Perhaps.

[His voice lacks the energy to admonish and he lets Hendrik lead him away.]

[The protection of the canopy doesn't seem like much after standing out in the rain, but Hendrik reasons that it's better to remain outside until they have cleared the air.

Or at least attempted to do so.

He's reluctant to ask more questions at this juncture, but it seems irresponsible to not address what just happened. So he remains next to Jasper, his voice lowering as the anger ebbs away.]

What brought that on?

[The sound of the rain becomes overpowering, overloading. Ears prickle when it batters the canopy and splashes on stone. Eyes widen and he begins missing every drip and drop; staring into space. Was that Hendrik? He sighs a tired groan, fingers pinching his nose. His change in demeanour pronounced enough that he clearly looks drained.]

The excitement of the day, I imagine.

[A day spent in bed. The silence speaks for itself.]

You caught me unawares. I did not expect such a gesture.

[Jasper's reply is just as confusing as that moving forward and back that he had caught sight of earlier, and Hendrik tries to puzzle it out before responding. What did he do exactly? Was it the moving away in the middle of the conversation? The ensuing argument?]

Apologies. I did not intend to upset you.

[That's perhaps the best way he can sum up Jasper's current mood. A different type of upset.]

[Jasper doesn't say anything. By now, even Hendrik's words are confusing, unused as he has become to anything comforting over the years. Why does it upset him so? That might be an easier question to answer were it not raining cats and dogs.]

You simply lack the heart. That is one difference between us.

[Hendrik looks like a man. He resembles a ghost, figurative, with no heart at all. Viewing the death of someone's father as meaningless? He knows it's cold.]

Edited 2021-04-26 07:31 (UTC)

Perhaps from your perspective. But I do not think so.

[Should he really dig up the past? There is a notable honesty in Jasper's words right now, quiet in a way that Hendrik remembered him to be when they were friends and young adults.

He really doesn't want to upset him when they have something resembling tentative peace...]

Do you remember, back before we were friends? I had a nightmare, and you concluded that all the knights of Zwaardsrust must have been crybabies like me. I punched you, and we did not speak for weeks.

[What is he getting at here? ...Right.]

Somehow, you have always known how to hurt me. I wonder how much that is not a matter of heart and you simply having a foul tongue.

[Hendrik begins talking of the past and there is notable longing in his words. He feels his heart skip a beat when hearing about days before they were friends; strays rescued and sheltered inside the castle, with nothing more to worry about than attending training. Days when he had been isolated and subject to gossip.

Days when he had been alone.

Recalling being frustrated back then and wanting to sleep, he listens while Hendrik continues. He is subjected to reminders of past altercations and arguments; accusations of unacceptably bad behaviour. All of it true but with one important difference.]

I should doubt it anything but a matter of heart.

[His words remain quiet, honest in a way he has not been with this man for a long time.]

A foul tongue hardly dispatches a young girl's father, Hendrik. There is a difference between sacrificing one's countrymen and insulting them.

[Sacrifice does sound better than slaughter, doesn't it?]

Edited 2021-04-26 08:51 (UTC)

[Where was this Jasper this entire time? Even before everything had fallen apart before the Fall, Hendrik had grown used to the cold, sharp demeanor of his fellow general. Gone were the glimpses of a friend who was quietly thoughtful and awkwardly kind, assumed lost under the constant barrage of monster reports and other issues plaguing the kingdom.

He shuts his eyes, regretting his remarks about the iron maiden and her origins.]

What would you like to do about her, Jasper?

[In some ways, this is the conversation that should have happened a few days ago, when he had found the iron maiden hiding from the rain.

Even so, he finds himself ... glad that things turned out this way.]

[Oh, that. Eyes flicker to the fence and he falls so silent he might be dead. After a good number of minutes worrying about his old friend, turning his mind towards that creature is a task. He has avoided it during his time here and sent it away - but every time it seemed happy to see him. By the time his turn to speak rolls about, his words hardly make it past his lips.]

I cannot say I know.

[The struggle to decide is momentarily paused in favour of processing thoughts and feelings. His tone becoming frustrated at this unsolvable problem, his burden of keeping the beast safe.]

It is such an unfortunate creature. Why it should be half in love with me I have no idea.

I would think it clear it admires you. It is not in love with you.

[That would just be strange, given the iron maiden is so childlike despite the appearance of the doll.

He still does not particularly like the idea of turning out the iron maiden, as it is Jasper's familiar and it does not seem to have anywhere else to go.]

I am still of the mind that someone should talk to it. To her. Perhaps a talk would at least stop some of the constant ... ah, hero worship.

[It is a difficult enough task to speak with people at the best of times. Fortunately, with his bravery pushing him on he is capable of talking freely.]

I do not have the talent of conversing easily with small children. Were I to speak with her I should need some semblance of what to say.

[Of course. What an excellent issue for both of them.]

I would think it best to be honest with her. Let her know that you are uncomfortable with her praise. That you would be more comfortable if she spoke about her day. I do not know how much awareness she has, as a ghost.

[Maybe that's too hopeful, but he wants to believe a better arrangement can be reached.]

[The weight of Hendrik's hand upon his shoulder had been unbearable. Now his hopeful words weigh him down in similar fashion - and he rolls his shoulders in response. Small, untoward movements attempt to hide his discomfort. Facial ticks as he remembers the secret of the monster he is beneath this human facade.]

Hardly enough to realize when one is dishonest, I reckon. It seems she exists in the moment. Trapped at the age she was before passing on. An irony for a man who sometimes wished he had never grown beyond being a boy, is it not?

[Sometimes he had wondered what life would be like had the princess not been born.]

[Hendrik's lips briefly slip into a grimace before he sighs. It would be quite easy to think that there would be a simple answer at the heart of this matter, but that really isn't the case.]

Perhaps part of the difficulty in speaking with her is that she reminds you of a simplicity that you believe you cannot have anymore.

Perhaps.

[The idea Hendrik is correct muffles his voice and depresses his tone. One second holding his breath, two staring into space, three wringing his hands in front of his body. Upon four he looks down and away, breaking off eye contact.

His comfort in repeating Hendrik's words is soon forgotten.]

You know how I detest complicated affairs.

[At one time complications had been a welcome challenge; a means for a boy to prove his worth. Mordegon had crushed that eagerness into desiring nothing but a vacation.]

I suppose. I recall you once enjoyed the challenge of a puzzle or issue presented.

[His lips quirk into a faint smile as he tilts his head upward, eyes to the canopy without truly seeing it.]

Unfurling a regional map and drilling the scouts on present conditions. You were ready to show everyone what you learned abroad.

[He never quite absorbed the entirety of those tactical meetings, even once he was promoted.

...But he is letting himself sink into nostalgia. He really should stop.]

[Jasper cautiously looks towards Hendrik. Frowning before tightening his lips, hesitating on what to say. He decides that it would be best not to dwell upon the past and steps back.]

I remember. It all looks markedly different with the benefit of hindsight.

[Nostalgia for him is viewed through a completely different lens.]

[Silence settles over them like an awkward shroud. Hendrik glances down at Jasper, almost apologetic for letting himself dwell on something so far and away in the past, before he looks back inside the house.]

Best to head back inside. Before cold sets in.

[Silence. Jasper continues staring at his old friend, interrupted only by the patter of rain. Wetness dampens his hair and trickles down his nose, the consequence of standing outside earlier in the evening. Eyes water and blink to squeeze it away - but whether they are wet because of the rain is a question for another day.

He decides to avoid further questions by turning around, heading back inside the kitchen. Flicking the light on before striding deeper into the house. Into the hallway, where he doesn't turn around and look back; he simply begins climbing the stairs.

This is all rather absurd.]

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And I remember how we'd play

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