paladingus: (j'accuuuse)
Simon Ashlock ([personal profile] paladingus) wrote in [personal profile] faithlikeaseed 2017-11-29 10:56 pm (UTC)

"No, she can't."

The strength of his own outburst surprises him, the force in his tone, the indignation--stronger than indignation, the offense on Myr's behalf. It comes without warning, that seething how could she that could so easily be projection rather than sympathy, could so easily be calling images of Wren's face to mind, and yet--isn't. Yes, Myr's reticence all makes sense now, every bit of it, but why should it have to? Why should this have happened to him, when Simon's seen him fight?

"She didn't give it up when she left; she gave it up when she was wrong about you and never even gave you a chance to show her. Blind or not, you can knock a templar twice your size on his arse when you're hardly even trying. It doesn't stop you. You're here, aren't you? It hasn't stopped you. She--"

Maybe he's getting ahead of himself here, pouring this out without thinking of what it implies about him, but there's nothing that eats at Simon now like perceived injustice, and Myr being cast aside without so much as a chance to demonstrate his worth--how could anyone?

"She owed you better than that. You don't owe her the benefit of the doubt in turn."

Especially not if she went and abandoned you right after, he would say, if he fully realized that's what Myr meant by that. As if Simon's ever been one to talk about abandonment of duty. If Myr were harmed by it, he'd account it an even higher sin.

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