[Semi-Closed Post: Aornis Is a Real Headache]

[timebethine]

Somewhere around midnight, a migraine descended on Laertes like a thunderhead, and he still hasn't come out from beneath its anvil. He's spent most of the day hiding in bed with the curtains drawn, feeling as though he's about to be sick--and that feeling's only grown worse as the sun has drifted sluggishly to a low apex in the sky.

It isn't until mid-afternoon that he feels well enough to make progress on all his plans. He needs to speak to SecUnit about its drones, to Dionysus about whether Avernus (that is her name, isn't it?) is a goddess, and to Nightingale about whether he can offer magical support in case their confrontation goes sour. He needs to talk with Claudius about what to say when he does speak to her.

So it is that he starts making his rounds through the mansion and its grounds, seeking out friends old and new, clinging grimly to the thermos of coffee that smells sickeningly strong but also helps drive back the pain. His face is wan, his eyes shadowed. He would rather be doing anything but this.

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[timebethine]

"I think he wishes it were otherwise. He knows I've chosen him, and wishes I had not, for he hates the burden it places on me." He rolls his eyes. "He does not see how he eases mine own melancholy, and tends mine own aches, and charms me every day with some new scheme for my delight. It's a partnership--an equal partnership. But he sees only my charity toward some poor, undeserving wight."

[wickedwit]

"Then perhaps 'short-sighted' isn't the word for it. He sees the future well enough, but not the ways mutual care will be a balm to you both in old age. He thinks it will forever be one-sided, which only seems short-sighted to me because I see how many ways that could change. But even now, it isn't one-sided, and something else prevents him from seeing it."

[timebethine]

"What else but his youth, which taught him that he was an incurable burden, worthy of love only if he could be well?"

[wickedwit]

"Thou art in the right. Thou know'st him best," he adds, turning an eye towards Laertes. "I only wish I understood him well as thou dost."

[timebethine]

"Dost understand him well," says Laertes. "It does not slight thine understanding, that thou canst not play thy tune upon him--someone has cut his strings long ago. He will want care, before he can be plied as thou might'st wish."

[wickedwit]

"Does thou know," Claudius asks, soft, preparing himself to accept any answer, "why Asmodean's crimes weigh heavy on him, and Luo Binghe's do not? Is he unaware of Luo Binghe's history?

[timebethine]

Laertes leans back against the pillows, gesturing Claudius to follow. He forces himself to think this through objectively--for although he hates Asmodean, although he would rather Sagramore and Asmodean had never met, he knows that Sagramore loves him as well as he does Claudius. "I think there are three parts to it," he says, after a moment's consideration. "First: he does not know all that Luo Binghe has done. He knew not about the blood parasites until I told him; if he knew not that, he doubtless knows little else. And he may have told himself that if thou didst not urge him to revenge, then thou hadst forgiven the trespass. Second: he loves Asmodean, and does not love Luo Binghe. The crimes of a man whom he knows only distantly must necessarily weigh less upon him than the crimes of a man whom he adores as he does us. That adoration, held in tension with the condemnation that he so rightly feels, threatens to rip him in twain. And, finally: Asmodean feels guilt and shame for what he's done. I do not believe Luo Binghe capable of shame. Having taken his cue for how to feel about their crimes from the men who did them, how could Sagramore fail to condemn Asmodean more roundly?"

[wickedwit]

Claudius nods through each point, curling close by Laertes's side, curling down the sleeves of cardigan to make himself more comfortable there. He understands why Galahad wears the sleeves of his sweater down, how soothing it is to run his fingers over the ribbing in the wool. Soothing enough that it doesn't hit Claudius like he feared it would, he knew not about the blood parasites until I told him -- he'd been hoping Sagramore didn't know at all, and he thought it would sting like betrayal if he was wrong. Sagramore doesn't have the character Galahad does, to see without urging when Claudius is sheltering some secret hurt or to carelessly challenge Luo Binghe on Claudius's behalf. As much as Claudius loves and adores Galahad for it, it was careless. So Claudius understands how, as a different man, Sagramore would err on the side of believing all's well. That point makes sense, and so do all the others.

Nevertheless, he finds himself pausing with his face hidden against Laertes's shoulder a little longer, just in case some bitter feeling arises in him and he can't control his expression expertly enough. "It follows," he says. "Well, I cannot fault Sagramore for feeling more strongly about those he loves most. I love that tendency in him. I love his strong-heartedness."

[timebethine]

"Thou art one of them," says Laertes, a little softer. "If thou didst tell him that the pain of having trusted and been hurt still burns in thee, he would hear thee."

[wickedwit]

Claudius laughs, lightly. "Now here is where I best understand Sagramore's perspective. I feel like I'm discovering news pain every day, and they always come when someone tells me I deserved better. Lan Wangji and Galahad do it most often, I think, but you do your share of it, too. I remember when thou didst tell me I was jumping at my brother's shadow ... I still struggle with it, thou know'st. For a very long time I had to believe everything that happened to me was justifiable and excusable, so I wouldn't feel betrayed by anyone who let it happen. I even invent cover stories on instinct, so that no one finds out something painful happened to me, or that it pained me at all when it happened. That also lessens any feelings of betrayal because if no one knows, no one can can be expected to help. I figured this all out when I was a child, but children have terrible logic." Sighing, he says, "Thou wilt say I am talking around the point. The pain is fresh, because I did not let myself think on all the ways it hurt before. Perhaps I'll speak to him when I've thought longer."

[timebethine]

"Do," says Laertes. "Because if thou couldst hear one thou lovest saying, I deserved to be hurt because the world is cruel, and I forgot that for a single moment, thou wouldst feel the same righteous fury that touches me now. And what if the world is cruel? Then making it kind is our charge."

[wickedwit]

"I feel that fury often. But 'tis with thee I most often feel such a charge is possible ... Have I congratulated thee fully for Wanderers Gather?" He lets fondness slip into his voice. "Not only for the effort of preparing the feast, but for kindling the idea of a holiday, and basing it on kindness."

[timebethine]

"The credit is Sagramore's," says Laertes immediately. "I only helped him to prepare for it."

[wickedwit]

"The credit belongs to you both, for what you both accomplished together. Like training Szarka together, or any other end thou dost share."

[timebethine]

It's on the tip of Laertes's tongue to say, But Sagramore has full charge of Szarka's training--but that will only get him the same argument from Claudius, so he subsides. "I'd also meant to ask thee what I should say, when I speak to Avernus,"¹ he says. "The time is nigh when I mean to do it. What wouldst thou learn of her?"

¹ Pong!

[wickedwit]

Claudius turns on his side, then, so he can look Laertes in the face again. "Avernus? Ah -- thou wouldst do well to call her that. I learned something very interesting about her, during the last round of changes we had. She can sense whenever her name's spoken, even from a distance."

[timebethine]

"She can--what?"

[wickedwit]

"Wangji told me¹," Claudius says simply. "Because of all the shuffling around that happened, Magnus ended up in her body and noticed it. It's made me question some of my earlier assumptions ... which means my questions for her are likely to change. I started a whispering campaign about her, more or less. But she knew every time her name was spoken. Was I playing into her hands? Did she want a certain reputation to spread, even if it was one that made people wary of her? And the list where your and Sagramore's names were circled ... well, when I think of what I would do, if I had the power to tell whenever people were talking about me, dropping a mysterious list and seeing if it starts any gossip wouldn't be beyond me."

¹ And would confirm he did. Absolutely.

[timebethine]

"Thou wouldst." Laertes inhales through his nose. "Let us assume that she shares some of thy temperament, then. What would I say, to make thee reveal thy plans? What would be best calculated to make thee drop the veil?"

[wickedwit]

“I’m softer now than I once was,” Claudius says, affecting droll tones. “Thou wouldst have to convince me thou wert on my side.”

[timebethine]

"How would I do that, not knowing which side was thine?"

[wickedwit]

“Show thou canst be molded to my side.” Claudius thinks it over further, and sighs. “Don’t play dumb. We were going to take advantage of the fact thou hast not met her, but thou canst not pretend thou hast never heard of her. She knows she’s being spoken about. I've started a whispering campaign, let it grow, and let discerning minds filter information back to me, but I've no doubt the rumors have taken more alarming shapes. Be open about what you've heard, and open to hearing the truth as she would tell it. But temper your expectations -- she's unlikely to reveal everything at the first conversation. If she reveals anything at all, it's because she believes she has an advantage. It's worth finding out what those areas of advantage are."

[timebethine]

"Then I'll go to her, an anxious young man willing to be soothed." There are normally very sweet actors cast in your role, Dionysus had said; he can be that sweet actor for her. "Afraid that she'll take me back to Elsinore, begging her to let me stay where I've found happiness. She may find my pleading pathetic, but perhaps that will assure her of her power. She may let more information slip, either to assure me or simply to quiet my pleading. Thou wouldst draw a curtain on that act by changing the subject; we will see where her inclinations direct her, if she does the same. Then--still pathetic, but now pathetically grateful--I'll let her lead me where she will."

[wickedwit]

"We've a plan," Claudius says, assured by it. The more pathetic Laertes appears, the less he'll look like a threat to be taken care of. It's a difficult balance to strike. Too unassuming, too nonconfrontational, and they won't learn anything. Too direct, too close to the target, and he'll put himself in danger. Claudius can share what little information he has, at least. "At Enjolras's meeting of minds, I did sound out her approach to conflict. She's the type to assess weaknesses and exploit them efficiently. Someone like her is likely to hold her cards close to the chest, then play them all when she sees a winning hand. If she shifts from conversation to open conflict, it will seem to happen quickly. So take care. And," he says, reinforcing the plan, "show her the weakness you want her to focus on. She'll be looking for it, anyway."

[timebethine]

"I fear that," Laertes says softly, "for my greatest weaknesses are those I love, and I fear she will hurt them, as she may have hurt Galahad."