milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

[Immediately previous, in the Dreaming. Conversation.]

The air by the bar kind of...moves.

And then there is an Aes Sedai and a gunslinger of Gilead.

Roland lets go of Moiraine's hand and looks around. SSDD.

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Del eyes him.

And hands him this.

"Ka like the wind."

...oh, now that's just not good.

But this is one of the Seven, who could send him raving for the rest of this life and whatever comes after. And Roland Deschain isn't a fool all the time.

So he holds it in his hands, and inclines his head gravely. "Thankee-sai."

"You're welcome!" She beams.

"You can say you don't want it if you don't. I won't, like, break you. Breaking's mean. I'm not mean. Well, no, I lie. I am. Somtimes. Ish. A little. But I wouldn't be!"

Roland thinks about how to put this.

"To us, guns aren't used for this purpose. One wouldn't use a relic -- something near holy -- for one's own pleasure."

"--Well, I was kinda thinking you could use it on someone else, but if that's what gets you off, go for it. And it's not a gun. It's a vibrator. It's shaped like a gun. Called The Gunslinger. It's made for pleasure, like a relic is made for being holy and respect."

"...I think it's very likely we won't see eye to eye on this subject, lady."

Still with respect.

Del beams.

"You treat me like a person!"

"Should I not?"

...please do not squash the gunslinger, Ms. Endless.

She does not squash.

She just stares, smiling.

"Most people don't, gunslinger. I amuse them, or I scare them. They placate me, or they cower, or they're too nice and never tell me what they think, or they never realize that even though I'm the baby of the family, I'm still older than the oldest god, and I know things. I'm not a child. But they treat me like one."

And Del smiles more widely.

"Thankee-sai."

Roland nods.

"Those people are fools."

He's scared of her, too, of course. He's been hers before. But the fear isn't debilitating. It generates respect.

Roland knows when he's outgunned.

"Those people are my family."

"People are dumb, when it comes to family. Screwy thing."

The vibrator is taken away, say sorry, and instead he's handed a flower.

Not a rose.

It's just a daisy.

If there is woe connected with daisies from the Dark Tower, THE MUN IS SORRY, but she doesn't know.

She does suspect that grilled cheese sandwiches are Dark Tower woe, though, because EVERYTHING IS, and thus, wouldn't be surprised.

No woe that I know of.

And Roland smiles.

"Say thankya, lady. And yes. You say true. Love stumbles."

"You are welcome, Roland. You're kinda a bastard. But you're a good man."

This is a compliment.

Roland shakes his head a little. "At being good I was always a little too slow."

"Hence the bastard bit." She shrugs.

"Sides. You're the hero man. Heroes don't get to be good all the time. They can't do the hard things if they are. All heroes have to be bastards."

"At least a little," Roland agrees. "Part of the job."

Pause.

"I'd hear, lady, if you'd tell -- you've changed. Will those who belong to you change as well?"

"River."

Silence.

"How?"

"I am insane, gunslinger. That's never going to change."

Del looks at the air and draws words in Sanskrit on it as she speaks.

"But it doesn't have to hurt. There are levels, there are degrees. River may change. Not quite yet. Not all at once. But it may happen. She is one of mine, and always will be. But the darker patches of my realm are easier to break out of now than once they were. Not easy. But easier."

More silence.

"She'll never be well."

"No."

Roland stares at his hands.

He'll never tell Simon. He'll never tell

(mo cuishle)

River.

He wants to kill Gabriel Tam.

Slowly, and barehanded.

Roland stares at his hands.

"Del stands for two things. Delirium. Delight." Gently.

"Well? No. But she may be happy. I would have her so."

"She'll never be a gunslinger. She can't carry iron as she is."

Controlled.

Grief leaks through anyway.

"Didn't say that."