milliways_bar | (no subject)

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námo

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There is an unhappy Vala in the bar, huddled in a booth.

Drinking.

He isn't massively intoxicated yet, but he's well on his way.

Approach with caution.

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Faramir always approaches with caution.

Especially when the Vala is drinking.

"May I join you?"

"Why is it you only find me when there is the chance for vomit?" he asks with a raised brow, but nods as he drink deeply from his glass.

"I suppose I must simply be lucky," Faramir says casually as he slips into the chair with a cup of tea. "You seem in need of company."

"What company do you wish to offer this afternoon, Prince Faramir?" he asks.

"Whatever you should wish, my lord." He sips his tea and sits quietly. "It is not a wise idea to drink alone."

He eyes the tea.

"I would not call that drinking with me."

The Vala pours more of the Atlantean into his cup.

"And I am poor company this day."

"I have suffered worse," he answers with a quiet smile. "You are troubled."

"I am often troubled."

He chuckles into his glass.

"How is it your poor luck you always sit with me on the times the troubles bubble up?"

"Did I say my luck was poor?" he asks. "I count it an honor to sit with you regardless of circumstances. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask the nature of your troubles?"

He snorts.

"What is the common cause of my troubles when we speak? A Man who cannot see anything but his own troubles and sorrows. Fuck anyone else who might be hurting just as much or even in a different manner. No, we have to support him. We have to say what dialogue he expects."

Námo glowers at the tabletop.

"And then he runs out. He upset his mother, troubled his son, walked out on me, and then left. Fine. I no longer care."

Which was an absolute lie, because if he didn't care, he wouldn't be so upset.

"Left?" He is puzzled. "Is he not dead?"

"She took him."

He could see enough into Gorlim's head to know Mary Anne took him from the bar last night.

"They just up and left."

Faramir knits his brows. "I cannot help but think there must be more to it than that," he says gently. "You have told me little of his circumstances; nevertheless, if he is as troubled as you say, I doubt he can have gone for reasons that have entirely to do with you."

"That is not the point," he snaps angrily. "He was in a bath with me. I was trying to make him feel better. He upset Nerdanel, and I let something slip that I was thinking and he walked out."

Without a word.

Without even a backward glance.

"And then he took off."

"Perhaps," Faramir suggests, "he thought that a better solution than getting into a fight with you?"

"I was not looking for a fight."

He looks away sullenly.

"What were you looking for?"

"I was looking for a partner who gave a shit," he snarls out.

"Does he not? What is he doing if not 'giving a shit' then?"

"He was being selfish, as he has been for weeks now."

Druken, convoluted reasoning, really.

"Telling me it was all so very hard when he brought it upon himself -- and everyone else around him... And leaving when it is absently pointed out. He could have talked to me. He could have cared that while it has been hard for him, it has been upon everyone else. Some of us have lost our damn dignity trying to protect him!"

"Yet he is also trying to protect you, is he not? It seems clear to me that neither of you are in your right minds, if you'll forgive me, Lord."

"He is doing this because he thinks it somehow makes him noble all over again," he grumbles.

"Then he has many reasons. I'm sure he does not realize he has upset you to such an extent."

"And if I say something to him, he will recoil and look at me as if I have crushed his world."

He rubs his eyes.

"It is... difficult at times."

But always worth it in the end.

"I wish that helped."

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