xix. dictated, action

[heloise]

Lana
How about an early morning ride?

Micheletto
You will help me with my crates. [ Because packing is tough. ]

Stephanie
Tell me if you mean to visit, even if not to see me. He would not find unexpected guests so pleasant.

What does it mean when the castle gave some no glimpse of old age?

[ Lucrezia is on her knees in the church in town, hands counting through her white rosary and reciting her prayers under her breath. She keeps her hood over her head.

It might seem foolish to believe that saying something over and over again gives it greater weight, or that time and voice can buy penance, but she feels she must at least-- try. She isn't praying for her own soul, she wonders if she would ever. But she loses count of how many times she has said the Ave Maria, and stands to go. ]

Comments

[heloise]

[ Paradise is eternity, it should never end. This is only a makeshift one. ]

We can find our own pieces of heaven, even here. We make our own.

[bustered]

[Or a sugar-coated version of hell. You never know.]

Perhaps we do. But sometimes it's-- Tiring is a good word, I think.

[heloise]

[ Lucrezia bows her head. Tiring is right, and she feels it more keenly now that she knows what it is. ]

I would sleep for weeks if it means it would heal.

[bustered]

I've been trying to ignore the world for a few weeks. It hasn't helped.

[It's tempting to let a hand smooth along her hair; Zack hesitates a moment, before allowing the action. If it's unwelcome, she's sure to let him know, he thinks.]

I've heard tell that the pain is a good thing, a sign of how much the person meant. And that it does get easier. [There's a pause, just a short little thing to find the words.] Until it does, you can lean on me.

[heloise]

[ She closes her eyes and lets him, but she catches his hand at the end so she can look for callouses from wielding swords, any marks she can see. ]

Yet I heard some say that it will never grow easier. [ Each departure hurts but betrayal cuts deeper. ]

There are those who would be displeased if I choose you to lean on.

[bustered]

[The hand is caught, and after a moment the palm uncurls for Lucrezia's exploration. There are calluses befitting a swordsman, ones that even the wearing of gloves cannot quite cushion, and faint scars of an old wound or two. His upper arms are more a mess, just below the elbow to where bicep gives way to shoulder; the skin is marred by bullet holes, and here and there the smaller marks of needles and the occasional scalpel. He's not the prettiest sight, but he's become a bit less self-conscious about it since his arrival.]

I can't say for sure. I don't know the answer for myself.

[Zack's head tips a little in curiosity, and there's a small, questioning frown.] I'm not trying to come between you and anyone, you know. I'd just want to be there for a friend.

[He still feels bad about being so wrapped up that he'd missed her brother departing.]

[heloise]

[ Battle scars. She has wondered how it would seem to have wounds of the heart show on one's skin, carved into one's face. Then again perhaps it does, less noticeably, but they would grow deeper all the same.

She lets his hand go with a smile. ]

Of course not. You would never.

[ She reaches to place a hand against his cheek. ]

You must not refrain from calling on me when you need to.

[bustered]

[Some physical wounds are the reflection of emotional ones, or tied in memory to more emotional times. Zack's scars have stories aplenty, most of them unpleasant, but this is not the place for such talk.]

Mmm.

[He lets his eyes close in a long blink, taking a moment to enjoy the warmth of palm against cheek. It's one of those small kinds of simple pleasures, the kind that brings an answering smile to Zack's face.]

I will, if you will remember to do the same of me when you're hurting.

[heloise]

[ Lucrezia chuckles, swiping her thumb over his lips only briefly before she pulls back. ]

Wounds heal. In time.

[ Or they must, at least. Some things will always be lost in the striving but as long as her family, her loved ones, achieve what they mean to then perhaps it would be just worth it. ]

Would you like to tell me about him?

[bustered]

[Such a tease, Lucrezia! Zack's not quite sure what signal she's sending, so to play it safe he doesn't nip at that thumb, tempting though it is.]

I hope so.

[Though in Zack's case, this wound is twice-deep: Having lost Angeal back home several years ago, just to have him back again here -- and to lose him again, and right after losing Cloud. It's painful, moreso than he tries to show.]

He was my mentor, back home. Everything I hold dear about honor, about following your dreams, is because of him.

[heloise]

[ The worst tease! She circles round to step up to the altar and fiddle with the ornaments still left there. Plates and goblets under a thick layer of dust. She slowly traces a B on the surface of one. ]

You love him then?

[bustered]

[The absolute worst!! She does have the 'leave them wanting more' part figured out though, and it isn't long before Zack follows her to the altar. The relics left there mean little to him, just as the rest of the religious imagery of the church; he focuses more on the patterns her fingertips trace in the dust and wonders how long it's been since this place has been really used.]

Mm-hm. As a teacher, and as a friend. Here, I'd wondered if it was a little bit of what having a brother would have been like.

[heloise]

[ Too long. She hoped her brother might help her clean it, make it shine again as it should, but religion has always been a sensitive issue. She picks up the plate and blow across its surface to rid it of dust. ]

The most wonderful. Like having an anchor and a shelter too.

[bustered]

[The dust motes float in the air, catching light here and there and drawing Zack's attention to their dance for a moment. Lucrezia seems almost like the dust at times, almost like she too could be blown away on a puff of air. Perhaps he's simply reading too much into her recent loss, but part of his brain does wonder why she chose to come to such an abandoned building.]

Who shelters you now, Lucrezia? Who is your anchor?

[heloise]

[ A trick of the light, a sleight of hand. Lucrezia sets the plate back and turns to him with the faintest smile. ]

Apollo, of the sun and healing.