[It is not altogether unexpected. No different than Draklor, or the Mist, or the way the Archadian Empire forged technology deadly enough to assert control over the entire northern stretch of Ivalice with no heed paid to cost.
There is a reason why so many mistake Gabranth for— or remark that he seems of— Tevinter.
And he does not weep for the possibility of this coming to pass, regardless of the fact that he stands opposed to it.]
Do you think, [ he asks, more bitterly than he can help, ] will mattered?
[ he could say, i was one of them. and he could say, so what do you think? but maybe that conveys, anyway. and regardless: this is a fuller answer to gabranth's question. no, they didn't serve willingly. maybe there were some people, now forgotten, in the dream who did, but certainly not all of them; maybe not even most. questionable if a force who'd readily torture to figure out the secrets of anchors consider them people, with free will, at all.
he shakes his head at the next question, says, ]
Anyone who was here in the Gallows that night was part of the dreams and probably knows. I don't know if anyone else has been told anything. But I doubt the natives need a lecture on the dangers from the North.
[The look he fixes Holden with speaks in volumes where he otherwise does not: there is no affronted blink, no twinge or shudder— all the fury he’d held across the network over grave misdeeds is, perhaps unsettlingly, absent.
There are ways in which Holden and Gabranth mirror one another. This is not one of them.]
I ask, [he starts evenly, shifting back in his own seat with all the gravity of a tactical discussion.] because that information may not aid so much as harm.
If word spread, and the Chantry imagines a world in which rifters hold such commanding sway over demons— over resistant territories and their urge to fight— they may indeed seek to leash our number for their own assurances. They would be correct to, knowing what would transpire should the tide begin to rise.
And in light of that, imagine how many of our own might let fear lead them down a path suffused with regret.
[It would not be their fault.]
So in light of this, perhaps it is only the experimentation of which you ought speak— though I’ll not demand you withhold what weighs too heavily upon your conscience, if you cannot bear it thus.
[ he blinks, pausing for the space of a breath. then mutters a "fuck," and buries his face in his hands. it's almost funny, in a bleak way, how this hadn't occurred to him: diplomatic incidents may as well be his middle name. there are plenty of people back home who'd attest to it.
up until recently, he'd have had a conversation like this with amos. up until thedas, it would've been naomi. people he trusts to hear him out, and to tell him if he's wrong. and on a deeper level, people who don't look to him and need to see james holden, survivor of eros, part of the io campaign, opener of the ring gates, on the ground at ilus; the man who arrested jules-pierre mao and adolphus murtry; captain of the rocinante; member of riftwatch, well-regarded rifter, survivor of tantervale. none of it matters to him, except for the responsibility it means he carries. john hasn't made him feel accountable for what happens to other rifters, no more than he already does; or, not much. because if anything does happen to any of them now, because they didn't know about this danger, he'll know it was his fault.
when he drops his hands, he says, ]
It doesn't matter what my intentions are, [ wearily, ] it's still serving someone's agenda if I do this. At a guess, someone who's worried about rifter loyalty, especially after everything that's happened lately.
[Because he feels used. Because this is a bruising spot upon his conscience and his mind, and if he chooses to act blindly, the consequences will haunt as surely as the dream itself.]
There is no right path. Save for perspective, you cannot divine what will help and what will harm.
[Kind intent can be merciless, cruelty can bring easement unintended. Perhaps the Herald might know a better way, but for them...]
Consider, then, the people you most wish to aid in this. [Gabranth’s assumption as to who that is may be wrong, yet he doubts it.] The uninformed shard-bearers. The ones who do not know better.
If you were of their number, barring influence or intent from the equation, what would you want.
[ he sighs, looking down at his hands; laces his fingers, turns the question over in his mind. ]
I'd want to know, [ he says, soft, then looks back up. ] It's not right to send them in blind.
[ or — not blind, but without the complete picture. then he shakes his head, breathes out a mirthless sound. ]
I never thought about it. What people are, and aren't, being told when they get here. Honestly, I don't remember a goddamned thing I was told, but I assumed —
[ because you never go wrong with assuming. he seems to remember his coffee at last, though all he does is encircle the mug with his hands and let the heat leech into his palms. ]
[Resentment can boil later over leverage and political gain; someone will always benefit from even the smallest of actions. Yet Holden at least will know he has done all that he can.]
I have heard it said rifters are believed to be as nothing. That we are not real. That we fade because we are little more than reflections.
I suspect such thoughts make it easier for those of this world to grant us little regard. If we suffer, if we do not know, if we perish— we were never truly part of this world to begin with.
[ he says sharply, all uncertainty lost in this flare of conviction. ]
If we start looking at it that way, then the war's already lost. Corypheus's forces won't have to do anything, because we'll be too busy pointing fingers at each other to stop them. This world has been fighting this war for a lot longer than you and I have been here. These people have lost places and people we'll never know. And then the goddamn sky opened up above them and started spitting out strangers they couldn't explain.
Can you say your world would take it any better? Because I can't. [ a handful of scientists stumble on ancient alien technology, and they immediately use it to sow death, and death, and death. they saw a weapon where there was only a road. ] I'm not saying that I agree with calling us demons, or the Circles, or every fucking other thing you said. I know there are people who think that. But I've met a lot more people in Riftwatch who give a damn about me as a person than people who don't. And I don't think I'm alone in that.
There is us and them, Captain Holden. Admirable as your stance remains, and not one I wholly disagree with, it is— too idyllic.
[Not naive. Not impossibly hopeful. Just...]
We are Riftwatch. But we are more than that. Mages, shard-bearers, native fighters, diplomats, researchers, Grey Wardens. Already there is fear. Already we are used, and I’ve no qualms regarding it or the possibility of being relegated to Circles should the time come.
But those who value unity above all else sacrifice much. And you and I are not like the others who wish for normalcy. Comfort. Peace. Those who might lead a life here will be less inclined to bend, and more suited to break.
When I say consideration need be made, what I mean is: you.
[ an echo. there's a lot he could say to the rest of that, or even just, were you listening when i just explained that there's riftwatch and there's the people who'd treat us like lab rats? but he doesn't. yet. instead — ]
That I should...what, exactly?
[ since it's open season, apparently, for people to tell him what they think he should do. ]
[He's Archadian, Jim. The difference is the cause, not the means.
But aside from that.]
You are personable, informed. You have seen much of what may come to pass, and you are a shard-bearer with an equal amount to lose in failure. You comprehend the difference between protection— and exploitation.
Going forward, beyond impending announcement, if there is a need to ensure future Rifters are fully informed of all that transpires, I can think of no one more suited than yourself.
You know he said the same thing? [ a scoff. ] How it'd be better, coming from me.
[ a rifter, a shard-bearer. how he was the only person asked to do this. he finally picks up his mug, pauses for a sip of coffee. it's cooled, but still flavorful. and, most importantly, still caffeinated. he swallows, goes on, ]
But you're both forgetting that I'm not going to be the difference between whether someone stays with us or not. That's not how it works.
[ it feels like both, in this moment. a concerted attack, in a way, though neither know of the other; and, as gabranth points out, their motivations aren't the same.
and maybe it seems like a funny, strange thing to protest. gabranth and silas both have wondered to him whether he misses leadership; he lets people call him captain, even those who never have and never will see the rocinante. he had grown comfortable with the role, and even with the impact that his name, his actions, carried throughout the sol system — throughout every star system humanity now streams to. they weren't, as he's said before, in the war business; starting and ending one isn't the same as engaging in a long campaign of attrition.
and then he dropped out of a rip in the sky, here, and he was nobody again. hard to say if it's better or worse, though it's undeniably nice not to have any major local disasters to his name. and it's difficult, too, because the rocinante was, more or less, an independent entity. they could choose their jobs, did work for earthers and martians and belters alike. closely affiliated with the opa, but not under fred johnson's control. or anderson dawes, for that matter.
but if he disagrees with riftwatch, where will he go?
amos had had backup plans, from the very beginning; they could leave, they could make their way somewhere away from the war, even if it worsens. even after they'd found out about the anchors drawing them back, it'd been on the table. but now, the people in this world he needs and loves the most are here. it may not always be that way. it may, for as long as he exists. the only timeframe that really matters anymore.
[Gabranth can sense the wheels turning, see the ticking as Holden's thoughts run high and hot. He wrestles with more than just a simple suggestion at this point in time, and no attempt is made to force him from it. No intrusion comes until he's ready, asking a question of his own in turn.
Gabranth's answer, however, is simple:]
Because your heart longs to aid others in need. And they are— will always be— more in need than most.
[Adrift in a world not their own, threat to everyone and no one, knowing what they are and what end they'll likely face in time.
[ naomi had said once: you just can't help yourself, can you? saving everyone. you just can't stop yourself.
maybe the reason for his hesitation is much simpler. maybe it's just an admittance to himself, among so many small ones, that thedas is his life now. it'd be so much easier if acceptance only came once.
he breathes out.
and presently says, with some dryness, ]
I wasn't thinking about an announcement. No crystals, no — I don't know, flyers. Just talking to them, one on one, like this.
[A fair assessment. One which brooks no argument. In fact, it would likely be the safer route regardless, given that it offers no mouthpiece for uninvolved parties who might make for more trouble when granted a moment to speak their opinion.]
[Unless that person is you, Holden, the odds are low...
Still, his expression seems (despite being no less dour) lighter at its edges. Composed in a way that suggests he’s found some measure of satisfaction in the span of their conversation.]
Are you at ease with this agreement? Will it suit you?
[If not, though Gabranth is hesitant to offer, there remains one last alternative.]
For were you to recount in absolute detail what you have witnessed, I would be capable of relaying it in your stead.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
There is a reason why so many mistake Gabranth for— or remark that he seems of— Tevinter.
And he does not weep for the possibility of this coming to pass, regardless of the fact that he stands opposed to it.]
Those shard-bearers, they served willingly?
How many natives know of this potential outcome?
no subject
[ he could say, i was one of them. and he could say, so what do you think? but maybe that conveys, anyway. and regardless: this is a fuller answer to gabranth's question. no, they didn't serve willingly. maybe there were some people, now forgotten, in the dream who did, but certainly not all of them; maybe not even most. questionable if a force who'd readily torture to figure out the secrets of anchors consider them people, with free will, at all.
he shakes his head at the next question, says, ]
Anyone who was here in the Gallows that night was part of the dreams and probably knows. I don't know if anyone else has been told anything. But I doubt the natives need a lecture on the dangers from the North.
no subject
There are ways in which Holden and Gabranth mirror one another. This is not one of them.]
I ask, [he starts evenly, shifting back in his own seat with all the gravity of a tactical discussion.] because that information may not aid so much as harm.
If word spread, and the Chantry imagines a world in which rifters hold such commanding sway over demons— over resistant territories and their urge to fight— they may indeed seek to leash our number for their own assurances. They would be correct to, knowing what would transpire should the tide begin to rise.
And in light of that, imagine how many of our own might let fear lead them down a path suffused with regret.
[It would not be their fault.]
So in light of this, perhaps it is only the experimentation of which you ought speak— though I’ll not demand you withhold what weighs too heavily upon your conscience, if you cannot bear it thus.
no subject
up until recently, he'd have had a conversation like this with amos. up until thedas, it would've been naomi. people he trusts to hear him out, and to tell him if he's wrong. and on a deeper level, people who don't look to him and need to see james holden, survivor of eros, part of the io campaign, opener of the ring gates, on the ground at ilus; the man who arrested jules-pierre mao and adolphus murtry; captain of the rocinante; member of riftwatch, well-regarded rifter, survivor of tantervale. none of it matters to him, except for the responsibility it means he carries. john hasn't made him feel accountable for what happens to other rifters, no more than he already does; or, not much. because if anything does happen to any of them now, because they didn't know about this danger, he'll know it was his fault.
when he drops his hands, he says, ]
It doesn't matter what my intentions are, [ wearily, ] it's still serving someone's agenda if I do this. At a guess, someone who's worried about rifter loyalty, especially after everything that's happened lately.
no subject
[Because he feels used. Because this is a bruising spot upon his conscience and his mind, and if he chooses to act blindly, the consequences will haunt as surely as the dream itself.]
no subject
[ he may as well have said, grass is green. ]
no subject
[Kind intent can be merciless, cruelty can bring easement unintended. Perhaps the Herald might know a better way, but for them...]
Consider, then, the people you most wish to aid in this. [Gabranth’s assumption as to who that is may be wrong, yet he doubts it.] The uninformed shard-bearers. The ones who do not know better.
If you were of their number, barring influence or intent from the equation, what would you want.
no subject
I'd want to know, [ he says, soft, then looks back up. ] It's not right to send them in blind.
[ or — not blind, but without the complete picture. then he shakes his head, breathes out a mirthless sound. ]
I never thought about it. What people are, and aren't, being told when they get here. Honestly, I don't remember a goddamned thing I was told, but I assumed —
[ because you never go wrong with assuming. he seems to remember his coffee at last, though all he does is encircle the mug with his hands and let the heat leech into his palms. ]
no subject
[Resentment can boil later over leverage and political gain; someone will always benefit from even the smallest of actions. Yet Holden at least will know he has done all that he can.]
I have heard it said rifters are believed to be as nothing. That we are not real. That we fade because we are little more than reflections.
I suspect such thoughts make it easier for those of this world to grant us little regard. If we suffer, if we do not know, if we perish— we were never truly part of this world to begin with.
Yet someone ought consider us...or someone else will.
no subject
[ he says sharply, all uncertainty lost in this flare of conviction. ]
If we start looking at it that way, then the war's already lost. Corypheus's forces won't have to do anything, because we'll be too busy pointing fingers at each other to stop them. This world has been fighting this war for a lot longer than you and I have been here. These people have lost places and people we'll never know. And then the goddamn sky opened up above them and started spitting out strangers they couldn't explain.
Can you say your world would take it any better? Because I can't. [ a handful of scientists stumble on ancient alien technology, and they immediately use it to sow death, and death, and death. they saw a weapon where there was only a road. ] I'm not saying that I agree with calling us demons, or the Circles, or every fucking other thing you said. I know there are people who think that. But I've met a lot more people in Riftwatch who give a damn about me as a person than people who don't. And I don't think I'm alone in that.
no subject
[Not naive. Not impossibly hopeful. Just...]
We are Riftwatch. But we are more than that. Mages, shard-bearers, native fighters, diplomats, researchers, Grey Wardens. Already there is fear. Already we are used, and I’ve no qualms regarding it or the possibility of being relegated to Circles should the time come.
But those who value unity above all else sacrifice much. And you and I are not like the others who wish for normalcy. Comfort. Peace. Those who might lead a life here will be less inclined to bend, and more suited to break.
When I say consideration need be made, what I mean is: you.
no subject
[ an echo. there's a lot he could say to the rest of that, or even just, were you listening when i just explained that there's riftwatch and there's the people who'd treat us like lab rats? but he doesn't. yet. instead — ]
That I should...what, exactly?
[ since it's open season, apparently, for people to tell him what they think he should do. ]
no subject
But aside from that.]
You are personable, informed. You have seen much of what may come to pass, and you are a shard-bearer with an equal amount to lose in failure. You comprehend the difference between protection— and exploitation.
Going forward, beyond impending announcement, if there is a need to ensure future Rifters are fully informed of all that transpires, I can think of no one more suited than yourself.
no subject
[ a rifter, a shard-bearer. how he was the only person asked to do this. he finally picks up his mug, pauses for a sip of coffee. it's cooled, but still flavorful. and, most importantly, still caffeinated. he swallows, goes on, ]
But you're both forgetting that I'm not going to be the difference between whether someone stays with us or not. That's not how it works.
no subject
[Both he says, as though Gabranth and whoever he'd spoken to are one and the same. Or if nothing else, united in their goals.]
You are wrong.
This I suggest for your benefit, Captain Holden, perhaps as much as theirs.
[Perhaps.]
no subject
and maybe it seems like a funny, strange thing to protest. gabranth and silas both have wondered to him whether he misses leadership; he lets people call him captain, even those who never have and never will see the rocinante. he had grown comfortable with the role, and even with the impact that his name, his actions, carried throughout the sol system — throughout every star system humanity now streams to. they weren't, as he's said before, in the war business; starting and ending one isn't the same as engaging in a long campaign of attrition.
and then he dropped out of a rip in the sky, here, and he was nobody again. hard to say if it's better or worse, though it's undeniably nice not to have any major local disasters to his name. and it's difficult, too, because the rocinante was, more or less, an independent entity. they could choose their jobs, did work for earthers and martians and belters alike. closely affiliated with the opa, but not under fred johnson's control. or anderson dawes, for that matter.
but if he disagrees with riftwatch, where will he go?
amos had had backup plans, from the very beginning; they could leave, they could make their way somewhere away from the war, even if it worsens. even after they'd found out about the anchors drawing them back, it'd been on the table. but now, the people in this world he needs and loves the most are here. it may not always be that way. it may, for as long as he exists. the only timeframe that really matters anymore.
he splays his hands, asks, helplessly, ]
How do you see this helping me?
no subject
Gabranth's answer, however, is simple:]
Because your heart longs to aid others in need. And they are— will always be— more in need than most.
[Adrift in a world not their own, threat to everyone and no one, knowing what they are and what end they'll likely face in time.
It is a calling.]
no subject
maybe the reason for his hesitation is much simpler. maybe it's just an admittance to himself, among so many small ones, that thedas is his life now. it'd be so much easier if acceptance only came once.
he breathes out.
and presently says, with some dryness, ]
I wasn't thinking about an announcement. No crystals, no — I don't know, flyers. Just talking to them, one on one, like this.
no subject
[He shifts back where he sits, the chair creaking under strain.]
But it would make also for a more taxing undertaking.
[Gabranth does not need to ask if that is acceptable to Jim; he leaves the statement hanging between them, waiting for the inevitable.]
no subject
It'd be taxing no matter what. And, considering the number of arguments an announcement would cause, it's probably about the same either way.
no subject
And when more shard-bearers inevitably arrive?
no subject
[ his tone suggests that he knows the answer to that. still, he pauses, takes another sip of his coffee. ]
I'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But if I'm needed, I'll talk to them.
no subject
[Unless that person is you, Holden, the odds are low...
Still, his expression seems (despite being no less dour) lighter at its edges. Composed in a way that suggests he’s found some measure of satisfaction in the span of their conversation.]
Are you at ease with this agreement? Will it suit you?
[If not, though Gabranth is hesitant to offer, there remains one last alternative.]
For were you to recount in absolute detail what you have witnessed, I would be capable of relaying it in your stead.
no subject
It'll suit me. I'll be alright. But thank you.