A hand swooped in and liberated the next bottle before Warren could get it to his lips.
"Peace! You shouldn't drink alone. You stink of ale."
Howl shrugged and gave the bottle a good pull. Mmm, Momodi's good brown ale - always hit the spot, even mid-morning. But then, between the two of them, they'd made a significant dent in their liquor reserves. Howl's tactic since Warren's Meteor-sized, Dalamud-like bombshell of the other night had been to ply Warren with liquor and try to make sense of it all.
Warren had lied to him - had concealed the truth from him for months, that Warren had not only gotten with Crofte, but slept with her. Warren had done the same with Snow, though unlike Howl, Snow hadn't been on the scene the entire time, so by Howl's judgment, it was a bigger violation that he hadn't been told. Snow had predictably flown into a rage when she found out. Warren had claimed, somewhat lamely, that he had already considered the liaison over - though Howl wasn't so sure about that. Howl rather suspected the relationship ended the second Warren saw Snow again.
A man wants who he wants, loves who he loves, after all. Can't fault him for that. But did he have to lie about it to me...?
He stifled a sigh and took another pull on the bottle. He was caught as usual in the cleft stick of what he wanted and his duty to Warren. And as usual, the duty part was winning out. Warren had made him certain promises in the past few days that Howl was fairly certain weren't genuine. Howl was getting good at burying it all deep within himself. He was well aware he was the only reason Warren had made it through these past few days. He was all but physically carrying Warren around.
It ain't earning you anything. When was the last time you rolled dice? Or played a game of cards? How long are you going to wait around for something that ain't gonna happen? How long are you going to sacrifice and hurt and serve, when all that did before was drive him to Crofte's bed? It doesn't matter how good a person you are, how good a friend you are. In the end, you're bottom of the totem pole.
He reflexively buried that as well. There was no time for anger, bitterness, fear, disappointment, whatever. Warren needed him.
"Look, here you are wallowing in despair again," he chided Warren lightly, polishing off the ale and redirecting Warren's hand away from the next in line with the toe of his boot. "Quit it. There's always hope."
"No's not," Warren mumbled drunkenly. "She hates me. Won' even come talk to me."
"You don't know that. The girl cares about you or we wouldn't have gotten this far anyway. It might take some time, but you've got an in." Howl paused, scratching his ear idly, thinking. "I'm gonna go to her and negotiate."
Warren barked a short, incredulous laugh. "Negotiate? I don't have anything she wants."
"Well, maybe I do," Howl answered lightly. "I make a mean necklace. Think I can buy her off with pretties? Mythril earrings, maybe? What's her favorite gemstone? Or I can polish her spear, kill a rival of hers... maybe if I offer her your head on a pole--"
Warren shook his head, slumping further. "C'mon, this ain't like you," Howl said again, giving him another nudge and stealing another of his bottles. "You gotta fight. You can't give up. As long as there's life, there's hope - and I'm not gonna let you die." He grinned. "Yeah, you made a mistake -"
Betrayal. Everyone betrays you in the end.
He buried it. "- but everyone makes mistakes. You're a man, and a knight. You're going to conquer this thing and kill it, and drag its corpse over to her and show her the monster you killed for her. Right? Right." He downed the ale. "And she'll be so overcome with joy that she'll toss off that Siben guy and come running back. You'll see."
And in the meantime... I gotta work on that, too.
That thought he let be.
"Peace! You shouldn't drink alone. You stink of ale."
Howl shrugged and gave the bottle a good pull. Mmm, Momodi's good brown ale - always hit the spot, even mid-morning. But then, between the two of them, they'd made a significant dent in their liquor reserves. Howl's tactic since Warren's Meteor-sized, Dalamud-like bombshell of the other night had been to ply Warren with liquor and try to make sense of it all.
Warren had lied to him - had concealed the truth from him for months, that Warren had not only gotten with Crofte, but slept with her. Warren had done the same with Snow, though unlike Howl, Snow hadn't been on the scene the entire time, so by Howl's judgment, it was a bigger violation that he hadn't been told. Snow had predictably flown into a rage when she found out. Warren had claimed, somewhat lamely, that he had already considered the liaison over - though Howl wasn't so sure about that. Howl rather suspected the relationship ended the second Warren saw Snow again.
A man wants who he wants, loves who he loves, after all. Can't fault him for that. But did he have to lie about it to me...?
He stifled a sigh and took another pull on the bottle. He was caught as usual in the cleft stick of what he wanted and his duty to Warren. And as usual, the duty part was winning out. Warren had made him certain promises in the past few days that Howl was fairly certain weren't genuine. Howl was getting good at burying it all deep within himself. He was well aware he was the only reason Warren had made it through these past few days. He was all but physically carrying Warren around.
It ain't earning you anything. When was the last time you rolled dice? Or played a game of cards? How long are you going to wait around for something that ain't gonna happen? How long are you going to sacrifice and hurt and serve, when all that did before was drive him to Crofte's bed? It doesn't matter how good a person you are, how good a friend you are. In the end, you're bottom of the totem pole.
He reflexively buried that as well. There was no time for anger, bitterness, fear, disappointment, whatever. Warren needed him.
"Look, here you are wallowing in despair again," he chided Warren lightly, polishing off the ale and redirecting Warren's hand away from the next in line with the toe of his boot. "Quit it. There's always hope."
"No's not," Warren mumbled drunkenly. "She hates me. Won' even come talk to me."
"You don't know that. The girl cares about you or we wouldn't have gotten this far anyway. It might take some time, but you've got an in." Howl paused, scratching his ear idly, thinking. "I'm gonna go to her and negotiate."
Warren barked a short, incredulous laugh. "Negotiate? I don't have anything she wants."
"Well, maybe I do," Howl answered lightly. "I make a mean necklace. Think I can buy her off with pretties? Mythril earrings, maybe? What's her favorite gemstone? Or I can polish her spear, kill a rival of hers... maybe if I offer her your head on a pole--"
Warren shook his head, slumping further. "C'mon, this ain't like you," Howl said again, giving him another nudge and stealing another of his bottles. "You gotta fight. You can't give up. As long as there's life, there's hope - and I'm not gonna let you die." He grinned. "Yeah, you made a mistake -"
Betrayal. Everyone betrays you in the end.
He buried it. "- but everyone makes mistakes. You're a man, and a knight. You're going to conquer this thing and kill it, and drag its corpse over to her and show her the monster you killed for her. Right? Right." He downed the ale. "And she'll be so overcome with joy that she'll toss off that Siben guy and come running back. You'll see."
And in the meantime... I gotta work on that, too.
That thought he let be.
People have forgotten this truth. But you mustn't forget it. You become responsible forever for what you have tamed.
Howl's Wiki
Howl's Wiki