[ 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}
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[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.]
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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.]
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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.]
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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.
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And when more shard-bearers inevitably arrive?
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[ 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.