26. LOL

[heisrisen]

[Public]

[The Emperor stands the hallway of Level One, awkwardly clutching a beehive shaped like a small griffon, with soot smudges on his face, dirt on his clothes, a few drowsy bees bumbling around him, and the door of his room, smoke billowing gently through the sliver of open door behind him.]

No need to be - alarmed.

[His breath catches wrong, and he coughs hard for a few seconds.]

Planned incineration. Perfectly contained.

If nobody claims the bees they're going to the greenhouse.



[Private to Barbara]

I'm going to need a new room.



[Spam - deliveries for Bush, Morgana, Hannibal, and Sylvanas.]

[Hours earlier, but not many- On the morning of the 10th, each of them will open their doors to find neatly potted plants. Bush recieves one elegant apple bonsai, less than two feet high. Morgana gets several pots of pansies, in different colors, arranged so as not to block the door, Sylvanas gets catnip, and Hannibal gets herbs - basil, sage, rosemary, and thyme.]

Comments

private

[heisrisen]

Hush, you.

private

[godsays]

You shouldn't set things on fire without a plan.

private

[heisrisen]

I had a plan. It was a simple plan. I should try more of those.

[yeah sure dude let's see how that goes]

private

[godsays]

No.

[ Exercising boyfriend veto power. ]

private

[heisrisen]

Okay.

[Back to complicated plans, he supposes.]

Re: private

[godsays]

Good plans. Plans where you include a fire extinguisher or a smoke mask.

[heisrisen]

The garden has countermeasures. I had to turn them off manually. I didn't want it extinguished.

[godsays]

Burn the garden if you want to! Just don't get hurt. You're not immortal anymore.

[heisrisen]

I'm not hurt much.

I'm a doctor. It's fine.

[godsays]

I want you to be safe. That's fine too.

[heisrisen]

[He can't promise safety. He can't even promise that he's not being reckless, because he is, really.]

It's not. I'm not imploding. Right now.

I just needed to do this.

[godsays]

You know, I liked that garden.

[heisrisen]

You can visit the real one; it's nicer.

[The emphasis on you and its attendant bitterness is - less than it would have been. That was part of the point: he's letting go.]

[godsays]

It doesn't mean anything without you there.

[heisrisen]

[tightly]

Well I didn't want to be there in this one because I couldn't stand the reminder anymore.

[godsays]

All right.

[heisrisen]

Okay.

[He blows a breath out. The trees will burn for a year in the name of Anastasia Vista Khaman - the trees will burn - the flowers will burn for an hour for Emperor and Empire alike. Burn your grief and let the ashes blow away.]

Okay.

[godsays]

No. You're not.

[ Okay. ]

[heisrisen]

No, I'm not. But I'm having an easier time to pretending to be okay than I was this morning.

[Tired, raw, slightly rueful. This is what he is now. He's making his peace with as much of it as he can.]

[godsays]

Pretending is the first step. Being can follow.

[heisrisen]

[He doesn't become any more hopeful, really. But there's a soft rush of gratitude and affection, frothed at the edges with awkward resentment, tumbling over the spare simplicity of catharsis. He smiles wanly.]

I am trying, Zane.

[godsays]

I know. I know.

You're perfect.

[heisrisen]

[A bark of strained laughter, raw and rough.]

Don't.

[godsays]

Even when you're not perfect. Especially then.