As with Warren, Roen lapsed into a silence for a time before speaking, and it was perhaps this part of these conversations that most put the little Lalafell on edge above all else. He had originally just wanted to be a Paladin because he wanted to be a hero, and the holy knights he continued to come across only strengthened that seemingly perfect match to the ideal envisioned in his mind. And yet, while he liked to think that it had become something more substantial after the things he had seen and done, he still couldn't shake the shame of the childish origins of his desires. To realize that others had much more powerful reasons that set them on the path to knighthood was both profoundly humbling and made Chachanji more than a little self-conscious.
When his female mentor finally spoke, it was like a sudden punch to the gut that left Chachanji silently reeling. Ser Warren had taken up the mantle, it had at least been a positive reason: he had wanted to protect someone. She had been hurt, but at least she had survived even if the male Highlander's over-protectiveness had driven her away. With Roen, there was no such angle, for she had lost someone... several people. And, unlike Warren, it was not a matter of simply driving them away for one reason or another; it was something far more permanent, from the sounds of it.
And yet, there was a resonance there that wasn't there with Warren's slightly lengthier reminiscing - at least, not to the same degree anyway. The little Lalafell found his mind unconsciously flitting back to his thoughts as he awaited Roen's arrival. Most particularly, to the last guess that had crept up on him out of nowhere. Or, perhaps, it had always been there and had just eluded his sight until he had turned wistful and introspective. Something had instilled a similar fear into Chachanji, a deeper desire to help and protect people that had not been there at the start of his journey.
His musings on such things was derailed somewhat when his mentor asked of his hopeful third teacher, of Ser Crofte, ironically turning the lad from his darker thoughts as Roen had sought to do for her own. Still, it was not quite the full escape as provided to her, for it brought instead to mind his conversation with the Sultansworn in her cluttered office. It brought to mind the questions she had asked, and the questions that she made him present himself. Questions that had ultimately led him to seek answers from his two mentors, which he might have done even without being tasked to do so by the lady 'Sworn.
"I think..." Chachanji's voice was somber, perhaps a remnant of his darker thoughts or just due to the more grounded nature of the conversation as a whole. "It's because when she asked me why I wanted ta be a Paladin, I didn't have an answer good enuff. I jus' said I wanted ta halp people, ta protect 'em, 'n she said that there were many ways ta do it witout takin' up th' sword 'n shield. She had pressed me, 'n I didn't have an answer strong enuff - 'n that's why she sent me out ta talk ta ya 'n Ser Warren."
The youngest Gegenji fiddled with his own apple somewhat, turning it over in his hand and examining it like it was a physical manifestation of his intentions. Unfortunately, half-eaten fruit gave little in the way of insightful hints even with such abstraction placed upon them. As such, all he could see in it was the mottled light cast upon it by the leaves and branches of the Sultantree high overhead.
"I didn't have anyone that I had wanted ta protect, like Ser Warren," the little Lalafell mused, seemingly speaking more to himself than his mentor at this point. "Nor did I lose someone important ta me, like ya did. It jus' makes me feel... shallow, y'know? Ser Warren said it was nice enough ta want ta protect people, whether I knew 'em or not, but I needed ta find out why I was doin' it. What made me want ta do it."
Chachanji dug into the apple a bit with his other hand, scraping the pale flesh within with his nail idly as if it would uncover some hidden truth for him. All he managed to reveal, however, were the glimmering seeds at the apple's center and they offered little solace. He settled, then, for taking up the scrapings and slipping them quietly into his mouth. He pontificated on them, and his own thoughts, for a bit before continuing.
"'n yet..." He paused, fiddling with the fruit again. "'n yet, there's somethin' in yer reasonin' that sounds... close. Not quite there, but I'm feelin' closer ta figgerin' it out. Ser Warren's words had done th' same too, tho in a dif'rent way. I 'spose that's th' whole underlyin' reason ta th' Trial Ser Crofte gave me - ta hear yer reasonin's 'n, from that, find me own."
Chachanji's grip tightened on the unoffending fruit, sending its juices dribbling out over his stout little fingertips. When he realized this, the little Lalafell quickly changed which hand was holding the apple and shook away as much of the wetness before finishing the job with a childish wiping of hand on shirt. He flexed that now dry hand thoughtfully as he looked at it, and then turned his violet gaze back up onto Roen.
"'n I'm thinkin' I'm gettin' pretty close."
When his female mentor finally spoke, it was like a sudden punch to the gut that left Chachanji silently reeling. Ser Warren had taken up the mantle, it had at least been a positive reason: he had wanted to protect someone. She had been hurt, but at least she had survived even if the male Highlander's over-protectiveness had driven her away. With Roen, there was no such angle, for she had lost someone... several people. And, unlike Warren, it was not a matter of simply driving them away for one reason or another; it was something far more permanent, from the sounds of it.
And yet, there was a resonance there that wasn't there with Warren's slightly lengthier reminiscing - at least, not to the same degree anyway. The little Lalafell found his mind unconsciously flitting back to his thoughts as he awaited Roen's arrival. Most particularly, to the last guess that had crept up on him out of nowhere. Or, perhaps, it had always been there and had just eluded his sight until he had turned wistful and introspective. Something had instilled a similar fear into Chachanji, a deeper desire to help and protect people that had not been there at the start of his journey.
His musings on such things was derailed somewhat when his mentor asked of his hopeful third teacher, of Ser Crofte, ironically turning the lad from his darker thoughts as Roen had sought to do for her own. Still, it was not quite the full escape as provided to her, for it brought instead to mind his conversation with the Sultansworn in her cluttered office. It brought to mind the questions she had asked, and the questions that she made him present himself. Questions that had ultimately led him to seek answers from his two mentors, which he might have done even without being tasked to do so by the lady 'Sworn.
"I think..." Chachanji's voice was somber, perhaps a remnant of his darker thoughts or just due to the more grounded nature of the conversation as a whole. "It's because when she asked me why I wanted ta be a Paladin, I didn't have an answer good enuff. I jus' said I wanted ta halp people, ta protect 'em, 'n she said that there were many ways ta do it witout takin' up th' sword 'n shield. She had pressed me, 'n I didn't have an answer strong enuff - 'n that's why she sent me out ta talk ta ya 'n Ser Warren."
The youngest Gegenji fiddled with his own apple somewhat, turning it over in his hand and examining it like it was a physical manifestation of his intentions. Unfortunately, half-eaten fruit gave little in the way of insightful hints even with such abstraction placed upon them. As such, all he could see in it was the mottled light cast upon it by the leaves and branches of the Sultantree high overhead.
"I didn't have anyone that I had wanted ta protect, like Ser Warren," the little Lalafell mused, seemingly speaking more to himself than his mentor at this point. "Nor did I lose someone important ta me, like ya did. It jus' makes me feel... shallow, y'know? Ser Warren said it was nice enough ta want ta protect people, whether I knew 'em or not, but I needed ta find out why I was doin' it. What made me want ta do it."
Chachanji dug into the apple a bit with his other hand, scraping the pale flesh within with his nail idly as if it would uncover some hidden truth for him. All he managed to reveal, however, were the glimmering seeds at the apple's center and they offered little solace. He settled, then, for taking up the scrapings and slipping them quietly into his mouth. He pontificated on them, and his own thoughts, for a bit before continuing.
"'n yet..." He paused, fiddling with the fruit again. "'n yet, there's somethin' in yer reasonin' that sounds... close. Not quite there, but I'm feelin' closer ta figgerin' it out. Ser Warren's words had done th' same too, tho in a dif'rent way. I 'spose that's th' whole underlyin' reason ta th' Trial Ser Crofte gave me - ta hear yer reasonin's 'n, from that, find me own."
Chachanji's grip tightened on the unoffending fruit, sending its juices dribbling out over his stout little fingertips. When he realized this, the little Lalafell quickly changed which hand was holding the apple and shook away as much of the wetness before finishing the job with a childish wiping of hand on shirt. He flexed that now dry hand thoughtfully as he looked at it, and then turned his violet gaze back up onto Roen.
"'n I'm thinkin' I'm gettin' pretty close."
~