Claudius freezes, the instinct of a prey animal, but the calculating, human part of him thinks this is still to our advantage. The point was to present Aornis with a weakness, Laertes’s fear of fulfilling his fate Elsinore, and see whether she would make moves to exploit it. But this hits upon something that seems far closer to her. Claudius knows that when Laertes speaks of how it must eat at her, being here and unable to answer a sibling’s death, he’s speaking from newly-understood empathy. He knows his hope that someone may visit the mansion after death (like Grantaire, like Enjolras, like Courfeyrac and Combeferre for a day) is genuine.
Aornis could use this. There is no one better to understand the grief of loss and frustrated revenge than Laertes as he is now. Claudius has faith in Laertes’s judgment and still, if he were in Aornis’s place, he’d know how to sway it to his side. And Claudius does want to know, desperately, what she has to say, what she might reveal about her brother and his visit to play on Laertes’s sympathies.
This might be her true motive, to do whatever she must in her brother’s memory. If it’s a weakness in Laertes, it’s a weakness in her, too. It’s something Claudius can use to deal with her, to negotiate a better arrangement.
Does that justify it? Can he sit back and wait for her to manipulate Laertes at his most vulnerable, just to see whether she’s capable? Past all his calculations, he feels the fierce pangs of protectiveness for the man he loves, the desire to deliver him from that room now, and be the one to care for his wounds. He could have, if he was the one to give Laertes the news. He didn’t want to hurt Laertes, the way he’s surely hurting now.
There is, he decides with a sigh, something he should try. This is the ideal time to try it, when her reactions seem the most genuine, when it could still take her by surprise. He waits until she’s started a sentence, after the delay on-screen.
no subject
Aornis could use this. There is no one better to understand the grief of loss and frustrated revenge than Laertes as he is now. Claudius has faith in Laertes’s judgment and still, if he were in Aornis’s place, he’d know how to sway it to his side. And Claudius does want to know, desperately, what she has to say, what she might reveal about her brother and his visit to play on Laertes’s sympathies.
This might be her true motive, to do whatever she must in her brother’s memory. If it’s a weakness in Laertes, it’s a weakness in her, too. It’s something Claudius can use to deal with her, to negotiate a better arrangement.
Does that justify it? Can he sit back and wait for her to manipulate Laertes at his most vulnerable, just to see whether she’s capable? Past all his calculations, he feels the fierce pangs of protectiveness for the man he loves, the desire to deliver him from that room now, and be the one to care for his wounds. He could have, if he was the one to give Laertes the news. He didn’t want to hurt Laertes, the way he’s surely hurting now.
There is, he decides with a sigh, something he should try. This is the ideal time to try it, when her reactions seem the most genuine, when it could still take her by surprise. He waits until she’s started a sentence, after the delay on-screen.
“Aornis1,” he says sharply.
1Ping.