[...Ah. He hadn't really considered the follow-through, so he hesitates before he tries to respond again. How does he explain the mess of emotions that he'd felt that day? The compiled bitterness and sorrow of a lifetime of ups and downs, coming to terms with having a king for a father- a king who struggled and suffered so he could live happily, who bore the weight of the wall and kept him at an arms length to protect him, who'd broken more promises than he'd kept because war did nothing but take from them for his entire life. How does he gloss over the fact that gifts and freedom and indulgences of living the rich life of a prince meant so little compared to what he truly wanted, which was the company of his precious family?
What should he do? What he always does, which is lie, lie, lie, and say that it's okay.
His hand drops to his side, both clenching into tight fists, and he bows his head. He opens his mouth (to lie, again, like always) and what comes out is:]
You... he... [He takes a slow, shaken breath.] He didn't tell me. He knew Niflheim was planning something, and he sent me away without saying anything about it. The day before... he called me to the Citadel to meet with him, but it was nothing but delays, all day. He was late, again and again, and by evening he canceled. I was left out of the treaty dealings, sent away for an arranged marriage, all while the city was overrun with a bunch of Niffs? I thought I'd screwed up somewhere, that I'd done something wrong or he thought I'd ruin whatever he was planning. But since he wouldn't tell me anything, I couldn't make it right. Of course I was pissed.
[...And it's weird, letting himself voice these thoughts. A year ago he couldn't do it, wouldn't have dared. Does this count as progress or weakness, that instead of enduring it all with the grace and poise of a prince who can handle anything, he's whining like a child that can't see his father whenever he wants? It feels wrong, saying any of it out loud. He wants to stop, but... the way Regis cried out after the memory left them... he recognizes that dismissing this as is wouldn't be enough. He'd never be able to make it believable.]
I was pissed, [he says again, more quietly,] But I'm not anymore. Cor said that you wanted to be my dad, not the king, in the time we had left. And maybe you couldn't face me and lie, the night before. I... he knew how important it was that I survive. So yeah... I get it. That isn't how I feel anymore. [He looks up again, eyes pleading, hoping desperately that his words are enough.] Dad, I never hated you. Even when I was a brat and said I did, or acted out, or didn't listen- not once. I was... scared... I wasn't good enough when it really mattered.
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What should he do? What he always does, which is lie, lie, lie, and say that it's okay.
His hand drops to his side, both clenching into tight fists, and he bows his head. He opens his mouth (to lie, again, like always) and what comes out is:]
You... he... [He takes a slow, shaken breath.] He didn't tell me. He knew Niflheim was planning something, and he sent me away without saying anything about it. The day before... he called me to the Citadel to meet with him, but it was nothing but delays, all day. He was late, again and again, and by evening he canceled. I was left out of the treaty dealings, sent away for an arranged marriage, all while the city was overrun with a bunch of Niffs? I thought I'd screwed up somewhere, that I'd done something wrong or he thought I'd ruin whatever he was planning. But since he wouldn't tell me anything, I couldn't make it right. Of course I was pissed.
[...And it's weird, letting himself voice these thoughts. A year ago he couldn't do it, wouldn't have dared. Does this count as progress or weakness, that instead of enduring it all with the grace and poise of a prince who can handle anything, he's whining like a child that can't see his father whenever he wants? It feels wrong, saying any of it out loud. He wants to stop, but... the way Regis cried out after the memory left them... he recognizes that dismissing this as is wouldn't be enough. He'd never be able to make it believable.]
I was pissed, [he says again, more quietly,] But I'm not anymore. Cor said that you wanted to be my dad, not the king, in the time we had left. And maybe you couldn't face me and lie, the night before. I... he knew how important it was that I survive. So yeah... I get it. That isn't how I feel anymore. [He looks up again, eyes pleading, hoping desperately that his words are enough.] Dad, I never hated you. Even when I was a brat and said I did, or acted out, or didn't listen- not once. I was... scared... I wasn't good enough when it really mattered.