"Lan Fan." The name fell from Ling's lips almost tiredly, having been repeated so many times with no response. "Tell me what's wrong."
His vassal was always quiet, but it was now nearing a full day of her not saying a word to him, and quite frankly he was sick of it. The debacle with Greed had distressed her; he knew that much, had known it when he made the choice. Yet it seemed to be more than annoyance at his stupid decision, something a bit deeper. She had shrunken in on herself, arms folded across her chest in a manner she should know not to do.
"Please," he said softly, stepping closer. "Talk to me."
Her face was growing red with the effort of holding back her emotions. Just as he was about to ask yet again, her eyes snapped up to his, dark and stormy. "You are such an idiot."
She looked immediately taken aback by her own words, but he smirked. "Maybe. Although you've known me long enough to know that by now."
Lan Fan scowled back, turning away from him. "You could have died."
Indignation bubbled in Ling's chest. "You could have died when you cut off your arm and hid in the sewers. I trusted you wouldn't."
He recognized it probably wasn't the best time to bring that back up. She had always been sensitive about it; perhaps because she knew how much it upset him, or perhaps because the memory of the pain upset *her* and reminded her she was not the unfeeling protector she claimed to be. Either way, he could feel her shutting down at a rapid rate, falling back into that damned silence.
So he placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "And I didn't die. I'm still here with you, as you are with me."
Gradually, her tense muscles began to loosen, her body relaxing ever so slightly. A sob wracked her body. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his chest despite her weak protests.
Eventually, with his chin resting stop her head, she murmured into him, "I'm sorry."
He ran a hand down her back, feeling her shudder through her clothing, and confessed, "Me too."
"You're a fool," he says, and he's not incorrect.
Her mind is scarred and her body is wrecked,
But she needed to save the Young Lord from harm;
Only she is to blame for the loss of her arm.
"You're a fool," she says, and she's not incorrect.
Blinded by avarice, he chose the prospect
Of evil, in the hope he could still lead
A country while living in the shadow of Greed.
They're both fools, he thinks, but he's incorrect;
They're driven by loyalty and the deepest respect.
And though they're irrational, separated by power,
Their hearts stay connected in their darkest hour.