“It hurts.â€
The torrent of emotions came, like an overbearing dam finally being torn apart by the river behind it, flooding the valley below.
There in the dark with the residue of light she saw him, tears and all, just as he was. Broken, pathetic, plain faced, and as ugly as anyone could let themselves been seen.
Honest.
Overwhelmingly honest. Tears came down her cheeks as she listened and took in everything. She had no concept of how much time had passed as he went on and on, purging the secrets and thoughts from within. She took every one of them; listening on and on as the words poured out, ravaged by the feeling of empathy as the pain was re-lived.
And her view of him did change. The drawings children had made of him morphed into a dramatic detailed scope of a man, colors of ink blurring and mixing into blackness before washing away in years of unshed tears to nothingness. soaking into paper to create a new grayish slate with all of the tales becoming part of it; the canvas fresh to add more to.
She let the satchel she had been so careful about slide to the floor. The contents inside were useless right now. The creams to help with his aches and sensitivity, the crystals attuned to help regulate and revitalize, her notes on contacts in Ul'dah and letters to present to old colleagues on her behalf. It was all pointless right now.
It was quiet, still dark. Jancis' legs were sore and asleep from her static position for so long. The floor creaked as she moved, standing and taking the pillow on the bed. She sat where it had been, her back against the wall. Putting the fluff in front of her, she grabbed Franz. Expecting him to be limp from such an emotional upheaval, she used that to gather him enough to sort him out on the bed. Face in the pillow against her leg, blanket down so just his toes peered out. Acting like a husband pillow, she kept her arm up over the man's side and held him lightly.
Her mind raced with thoughts as she did. That the missing memories and pieces would be found or replaced. That Nymeia would have left him had he been worthless. The tide of emotion was ebbing and she was left fatigued afterwards. He didn't need the emotion suppressed right now, her mind lingered.. dropping the encouraging thoughts previously thought to bring to speech. They both needed to experience the raw feelings.
So she sat there holding Franz as she closed her eyes, head dropping down to hang, as soft words finally came from her.
"Being strong is damn exhausting."
The torrent of emotions came, like an overbearing dam finally being torn apart by the river behind it, flooding the valley below.
There in the dark with the residue of light she saw him, tears and all, just as he was. Broken, pathetic, plain faced, and as ugly as anyone could let themselves been seen.
Honest.
Overwhelmingly honest. Tears came down her cheeks as she listened and took in everything. She had no concept of how much time had passed as he went on and on, purging the secrets and thoughts from within. She took every one of them; listening on and on as the words poured out, ravaged by the feeling of empathy as the pain was re-lived.
And her view of him did change. The drawings children had made of him morphed into a dramatic detailed scope of a man, colors of ink blurring and mixing into blackness before washing away in years of unshed tears to nothingness. soaking into paper to create a new grayish slate with all of the tales becoming part of it; the canvas fresh to add more to.
She let the satchel she had been so careful about slide to the floor. The contents inside were useless right now. The creams to help with his aches and sensitivity, the crystals attuned to help regulate and revitalize, her notes on contacts in Ul'dah and letters to present to old colleagues on her behalf. It was all pointless right now.
It was quiet, still dark. Jancis' legs were sore and asleep from her static position for so long. The floor creaked as she moved, standing and taking the pillow on the bed. She sat where it had been, her back against the wall. Putting the fluff in front of her, she grabbed Franz. Expecting him to be limp from such an emotional upheaval, she used that to gather him enough to sort him out on the bed. Face in the pillow against her leg, blanket down so just his toes peered out. Acting like a husband pillow, she kept her arm up over the man's side and held him lightly.
Her mind raced with thoughts as she did. That the missing memories and pieces would be found or replaced. That Nymeia would have left him had he been worthless. The tide of emotion was ebbing and she was left fatigued afterwards. He didn't need the emotion suppressed right now, her mind lingered.. dropping the encouraging thoughts previously thought to bring to speech. They both needed to experience the raw feelings.
So she sat there holding Franz as she closed her eyes, head dropping down to hang, as soft words finally came from her.
"Being strong is damn exhausting."
![[Image: hpThOka.png]](http://i.imgur.com/hpThOka.png)
