As Paige and Folly exit the throne room, Folly says quietly, "I wanna stop by my room a minute and drop this stuff off." _And say a thing or two in private._ "Come with me?"
"Of course," Paige smiles.
Folly nods and, still clutching Paige's hand, silently heads to her quarters. She stashes her papers in a desk drawer and double-checks that the door is closed behind them before she speaks again.
"I just...." she begins, unsure of how to say what she wants to say. "About how the war turned out.... I wanted to tell you before the meeting, so it wouldn't be a shock, but maybe it wasn't anyway...."
She swallows hard. "I know you cared about him, and... I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to lose someone you love."
Paige smiles at Folly, tears brimming in her hazel eyes. "You know, that's why I love you." She crosses the room and takes Folly in her arms, wanting to support her as much as be supported. "You've agonized over this day and for years now, ever since you learned of Vialle, and yet here you are comforting me."
Folly leans her head against Paige's shoulder, glad for the comfort of the embrace.
"I've had the same years to come to terms with the idea that even if he survived the war, that Martin could never let him live. He may look cross and irritated often, but most the family dismisses that as his moods. If I were asked, Martin's the most like our Elders out of all the cousins. He'd even never..." Paige lets the thought trail off.
"Kinda odd anologies for us, eh? Me joyous for a father returning and sad for an uncle lost; you happy for a friend returned and sad for a lover lost... unless I've missed something."
"No, that's probably as good a way to put it as any," Folly says. "In practice, 'hopelessly complicated' isn't so different from 'lost'."
"Maybe it's in the blood, because I could substitute that for 'lost' in my relations with his son, just as easily," she offers with a wry grin.
"I'll take that you knew about Brand before as a sign that you spoke with him, already."
"Yeah. Briefly. 'Til we got interrupted." Folly lets go of Paige and begins pacing. "Jerod's little rant about how he has the right to inflict violence on anyone who intrudes on him was almost funny to me, it was so painful. I wonder, would Jerod believe I should've kicked the Regent in the head?" She presses the heels of her hands into her forehead like she's staving off a headache.
Paige places her hands over top of Folly's gently and kisses her on the forehead, softly.
"But, yeah, we talked a little, and we're good. I mean, not bunnyrats-in-the-springtime good, you know, but he didn't send me away, which I half expected he might. He hasn't changed nearly as much as everyone says." Folly smiles wistfully.
Paige laughs, "I haven't seen much change in him it all, but I never really knew him before. I only know him through you and my Father's comments on it. He obviously isn't comfortable with the job, but seems to have accepted it as his destiny, eh?"
Folly smirks. "Well, when you're Fate's bitch, you learn to roll with it, I guess." She sighs.
"So, yeah, I'm really freaked out, and I sort of feel like throwing up, or breaking shit, or something, but it's not nearly as bad as it could've been, and I think if I can make it through the next couple of days without slapping that smug little smile off her face, I'll probably be OK."
"Rule number one. When you feel that urge coming on, you owe me a kiss, or a song." A devilish smile curls her lip, "Either we'll end up spending the next week or two in bed together, you'll write some of the worst doggerel you've ever done, or you'll learn to put down those urges." Paige winks at Folly and offers her arm.
Folly smiles. "Or we could turn it into, like, 'Vialle: The Drinking Game': Vialle offers to organize something, take a drink. Vialle looks disappointed that the king isn't kingly, chug. Vialle looks smug, sleep with Paige. Yeah, I could get behind that."
"We should probably join the others."
Folly nods and takes Paige's arm. "Let the games begin."
Last modified: 15 Apr 2002