thecutdiamond | iron sharpens iron

Entry tags:

iron sharpens iron

She's stepped down from Head of Defense for a few years now, but she's still a Ten. It's a kindness, she knows-- the old guard didn't have the heart to Challenge the former Queen who had sacrificed so much of herself to the Suit, and the new guard didn't have the courage. Besides that, Eileen Eicheln is still very much (and once again) the Ace of Clubs, and while Rachel doesn't care quite so much for her Rank, these days, everyone knows that her niece will likely take some offense.

With Edgar moved into the Hearts castle, Rachel and Elliot had decided to move to a smaller place in Town closer to the Diamonds. It was easier for Elliot to get to the Wild Cards (though even he had begun shifting more to supervising than actually doing as much of the work) and for Rachel (who, after all these years and a few more injuries, was permanently on a cane, now) to get to the Diamonds castle.

Just as well, really. Rachel still devoted so much of her time to the Diamonds, even if it was more in emotional energy than physical, now. Even if that emotional energy was focused, rather largely, on helping guide some of the younger members of the Suit down their path.

She's had no small number of mentees, over the years. She has to confess to herself, though, that the young man with the name of one of her former Kings and who is about the age of her son, has been one of her favorites.

And it's always nice, to meet young Horatio Hornblower in the castle for tea.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You do," she acknowledges with a gentle smile his way.

"But does it feel like-- spending time, or like you're stealing time away from when you could be working?"

That's very specific.

That's very specific, and--what's more--it's very correct. He can't imagine that the cavalier sip he takes of his tea fools her in the slightest.

"Depends."

He's a good Diamond. He's got, really, quite a good Diamond mask.

She's just a lot better at seeing through them.

"Exactly," she replies with a sip of her own tea, "You want more of the former than the latter, or you're going to work yourself sick."

"Despite all these claims, I'm not sure that's properly true."

Which is as close as he'll get, likely, to admitting that Archie's worrying occasionally gets to him.

"Besides, it's hardly forever."

It's just a few more years. It's just a few more sacrifices to make for his career. It's something Archie understands.

"Horatio."

There's utter fondness in her voice as she sets her tea down to with a fond sort of exasperation.

"Speaking as someone who lived by what you're saying for far too long-- start now, in making things balanced, mm? That way it's already in place when you're at the top."

When, not if.

The 'when' has his heart skipping a beat. It also has him tilting his head quietly to the side in consideration.

"I was going to issue my next Challenge today."

It was going to take more time. It isn't necessarily something he's run past his significant other as such.

Well, that certainly earns an intrigued (and encouraging) lift of her brow.

"'Was,' hm?"

"You know how much I hate to do anything without full weight of support behind me."

There had been dozens of things he had run into half-cocked, of course, since arriving on the Deck. For all the calm calculation of a stereotypical Diamond suited him, there had always been the impulsive brashness of a Club lingering just beneath the placid surface.

It had made listening to Rachel that much easier, perhaps, to feel that piece of him so deeply understood.

And it meant, for all he was clearly (to Rachel, at any rate) chaffing against the stillness, that he was actually, properly listening.

"And I imagine you're going to rap me on the knuckles and send me home instead."

There's obvious approval in her smile, at that.

"You've risen at-- such a good pace," she tells him kindly, "It won't kill you, to take time and-- refocus. Make sure your priorities in order. Honestly, it'd do you good."

He's not at all certain of it. He's actually quite sure it can't possibly be true.

His lips press together uncomfortably for a moment before he takes a sip of his tea.

"How else would my priorities be, then?"

"More centered on taking care of yourself," she replies, "On-- making sure you're taking care of the network of people who can support you. If you must make that about the Suit, consider the fact that-- the healthier you are, in all senses, the better able you are to shoulder the burdens the Suit will put on you."

God, she wishes she had known this in her youth.

"I am healthy."

He's learned to argue nearly exactly from watching Rachel. There's a certain lightness to his tone with just the faintest hint of spark in it.

"As are my loved ones."

That comes a little less confidently to his lips. Archie isn't ill, of course, but there's something in the Ten's delicate inflection which makes him just a hint concerned that he's missing something other people see.

"Physically, yes."

That's certainly easy enough to agree to.

"But--" And there are better ways to put this, likely. But he deserves honestly and clarity-- both he and Archie do, "You're hurting that boy of yours, without knowing it. I don't think even he realizes it, to be truthful, but-- I've seen this before."

Lived it, just a little, once upon a time. At least both she and Edgar had been just as blinded, for all it had hurt by the end. This now is-- something else.

"You get caught up in the ambition and he supports you as you do it, but each step up in Rank gets you busier. It's hard to make the time. And he understands that, because he's a Diamond, too, but-- He loves you. He wants-- needs-- proper time with you. Time that isn't just stolen between work. He's not asking for more now because maybe he's not feeling it, or maybe he doesn't know how, but-- It's a sacrifice."

Her voice is as gentle and soft as she can manage to make it.

"He'd give up-- everything for love of you, without hesitation, and with the path you're on, you'd-- let him without even noticing until it was too late."

The entire moment is a credit to her.

The fact that Horatio's features stay perfectly calm, that his fingers don't shake in the slightest as he reaches for the sugar bowl, is a credit to the Diamond she's built in him. It's not an easy conversation to maintain poise in, but there's something almost graceful to the way he measures out another spoonful of sugar into his cup.

The fact that Horatio leans just a hair forward, that his silence isn't static but entirely painstakingly active, is a credit to the human being she's nurtured beneath his armour.

He needs to take a moment, sipping carefully as if to check he's doctored the right levels. He needs to rake back over the last few years--over the little twitches at the corners of Archie's lips, the tiny furrows which had been smoothed so quickly, the careful exhales, the tight grips of joined hands.

"What does... proper time look like, then?"

Rachel isn't saying that it's actually too late. That's worth clinging to.

One hand reaches out to pat carefully at his arm, when he moves to put more sugar in his cup. It lingers outstretched in offering to be held.

He'll recognize the small smile that flickers across her face. It's one of approval for the direction he's heading. She's worn it before, discussing very different things.

"It's better if you ask him that, though it may take some work for-- even him to properly figure out what he needs," she answers, "But-- take more weekends just to-- be with him. Schedule-- lunch or dinner dates, something at least once every couple weeks if not-- more often. Make sure you talk about things that aren't-- just work. That sort of thing."

It takes a moment to reach out. It takes a moment before his fingers come fretfully to rest against the Ten's.

"What if that's not what he wants?"

It's a delicate sort of question. They had both grown up here, after all, watching people work themselves to the bone exactly as they had been for the last few years.

What if Archie wasn't on board?

"He'll want."

That might be a little hastily said. That might be her own bias talking. She corrects herself after a moment with a gentle squeeze.

"And if he doesn't, then-- you figure out what he does what. What you both-- need. To make sure this is a proper part of your life."

He means to say that they will. He means to explain that he's heard her; that it's a little scary to think about going home with this and starting to piece their way through it.

He really does mean to say something calm and smooth like she's taught him.

"--I love him."

His voice feels very small in his throat as he studies their hands. It isn't at all what he'd meant to say.

It's true, but that hardly made it worth saying.

Her smile is sympathetic. So is the light squeeze of his hand.

"I know you do. And I'm fairly certain he knows it, as well." She hopes so, anyways. "But it never hurts to show it properly."

"I suppose not."

Horatio can't honestly imagine she'd give him bad advice. What's more, he can't honestly imagine she could ever be truly wrong about something.

His fingers cling a little nervously all the same. It's new, thinking about having this sort of conversation.

It's not a familiar path for him, she knows. That only makes her all the more determined to help as she can.

"It won't be-- the easiest thing to figure out." Goodness knows it had taken her effort, after all, "But-- It is important. For both of you."

Trust is easy. Trust keeps his features calm and quiet as ever as he bobs his head, thumb tapping fretfully at the back of her hand.

"Does it get to feel-- natural, ever?"

Talking about feelings, of course, but also the faint, uncomfortable idea of doing things for himself.

That's a good question. She takes a thoughtful sip of her tea as she contemplates it.

"I don't know if I'd say-- natural, necessarily," she finally replies, "I don't know if it ever could be, when it's something you learn like this. But-- I have found it to come more easily, as time's gone on. It helps when you have a partner that keeps you accountable."

And there's a small smile, as always, for the mention of her husband.

"And if you-- make it a more routine part of your life. So you don't have to think about it so much. Like anything we practice, mm?"

"Like anything we practice."

He trusts her. He still can't stop himself from repeating the thought a bit dubiously.

Most of what they practice, after all, is purely mechanical. Much as Horatio would like to be able to mechanize his own emotions, he'd never quite seen that work.

At least she understands the dubiousness. There's a small, amused smile for the fact.

"The-- addressing and discussion part. Not the actual feeling, mm?"

LISTEN TO UR MOMIRAL

BUT HE WANTS TO BE KINGGGGG

GOOD KINGS LISTEN TO THEIR MOMIRALS.

...rly :|a

THEY DO NOW :|

NOT VERY SCIENTIFIC

....DO U WANT TO FIGHT UR MOMIRAL, SIR :|

...NO. never. .___.

then listen. to. ur. momiral. :|

/DRAMATIC TEENAGE FLOPPING EVERYWHR

/headpats

:| ♥

♥♥♥

♥♣♦♠

♥♣♦♠!!!!!

:>

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject