#lessontwo

she wants it so badly to be love, but she can't be cruel, or assuming. in front of gwen stacy's name staring right back at her, mary jane just feels awful. wanton. shameful.

how can she think of love when peter's eyes are still red from remembering gwen ?

❛ aunt may asked me to pick you up, ❜ she says softly, not quite nudging, but she turns her eyes from the dirt. she tries to seek peter's own. ❛ ... she said you were supposed to be home hours ago. ❜

"Huh," Jo is slow to lift their head, to pull themself from the comfortable blanket of white noise the silence has brought.

It's the only time Jo's ever felt comfortable with silence, the kind that lingers after panic and chaos rains. It could indicate any number of outcomes, of course, and Jo still finds comfort in all of its iterations, but today, it marks success and a job well done - the kind of win that's worth cherishing when too often they're left to console crew and family members alike.

JUST WATCH IT !

war is imminent  — or at least, that's what he told her.

it was why they must do this. rhea has not a silver of ravkan's culture, though she attempts to understand as much as she could when she's stepped onto the soil as part of the diplomatic group which had been approved by the king of the dragon himself. she wonders quite thoroughly what'd made it so easy for her good-brother to approve the journey so quickly. part of the reasons, as she's heard, was that king viserys had finally taken the initiative to extend any influence of the seven kingdom outwards, though personally, rhea wonders if it's anything to do with the very fact that the rumours circulating her lord husband's new fancy towards his cousin's daughter had played a part.

no matter. what has happened in westeros will remain in westeros. as far as she was concerned, her affairs in runestone are dealt with. however long this journey must take, her folk will be secured, and they will be safe. and, anyhow, she was chosen for this mission — it is an honour, above all — and so she must see through it. of course, how could one expect such a turmoil of tension beneath all the glamour when a country had just won a war ? or at least, even if they do, how could they be privy of it, given the fact that they are here as guests, and not consultants of conflict ?

the fact rhea had known this was a last-ditch effort to prevent a war with fjerda was perhaps only a coincidence — after all, did they not share a history that they've somehow been circling about — or more than likely, it was because she was stubborn. whatever it may be, rhea thinks again about how much of ravkan's culture she does not know, yet how much still she could find the similarities in from back home. the chapel, for once, is not the same as a sept, but rhea sees the same parallel lines in its height and grandeur anyhow. a point of religion to follow. a holy place to gather. a sacred commune to witness a grand matrimony.

she's been here before. it fills her with dread to know how eerily she's been here before. why would anyone like to be here ?

❛ you're foolish, ❜ he's not. he is being strategic. he is being honourable. a good king with which his country deserves. no different than how she'd been at ten-and-six, heeding the commands of a queen to marry her princely grandson. but where had that gotten her ? aye, she has duty. and aye, she is a good lord. but my gods, she did not deserve what she'd received at the hands of her lord husband in the end. it is wretched, and she is so utterly lonely. she cannot let him go like this. she cannot let him experience the same fate. he should live as he wants, he is a king, and— ❛ end this charade. i will not- i will not allow it. ❜

a shuddering intake of breath, and rhea manages, her brown eyes producing a thin film of tears that have yet to shade; her hands that's gripping his are tight. bruising, even, if the layers of his expensive coat is not standing in the way. her nose grows red, ❛ please. do not end up where i have. ❜

usually, working with vulcans affords una a certain relief from what others might perceive as unnecessary comments. this observation crosses her mind vaguely, though it does not pull her attention from surveying the landing party’s efforts. they have spread out, crew of scientists busy about their tasks, small escort of security personnel monitoring. all routine. still, her gaze cannot help but seek for anything out of place, not unlike a watchmaker might search for the slightest deviation in a timepiece’s gears.

the question catches una’s attention, formerly only half-granted to her friend and largely preoccupied by the machinery before her, purpose still undetermined. she straightens, crosses her arms, and considers la’an with narrowed eyes. ❛ until you said that, I truly wanted to know. ❜ now, however…

He stares down at the plate gripped in his hands as he rinses and rinses it, well past being clean, as La'an speaks. Blinking, Chris sets it down on the drying rack before drying his hands.

"Are you asking as my security officer or as my friend," he asks, his question betraying just how caught he feels. Whatever his file may claim about his earning the title of a boy scout, Chris has bent and pressed the rules when appropriate. Rules he may bend once again.