lennoxfraser:
Fitz’s words surprised Lennox, and for a moment he let the cigarette burn down between his fingers. “I’m not trying to be noble - it’s called loyalty. When I put my loyalty somewhere, I don’t sway,” he said, frowning, taking a drag of his smoke. “I wouldn’t’ve thought my life meant that much to you. They say no man’s an island but you might just be the exception, Fitz,” he said, exhaling with a smile. “But if it means that much to you, I won’t be a hero when the time comes. Believe it or not, I don’t actually want to die.” It wasn’t the first time that Lennox had thought that Fitz would make a good leader - he was the perfect balance of heart and heartlessnes; logic and passion. He was a leader that Lennox would’ve happily followed; would’ve put his heart and mind and body on the line for, to do whatever was asked of him. Lennox felt that loyalty tug in his gut as Fitz spoke; could feel the lure of the words, the kind that made him want to ask where he signed his name. “Maybe,” he said thoughtfully. “But the people sitting comfortable in offices and luxury while others fight aren’t taking risks, are they? That’s the people on the ground, the cannon fodder, so to speak. They get more of a say, don’t you think? If they’re putting their lives on the line, surely they’re more important than a man humming and hawing over strategy and sponsorships.” Lennox felt his anger rise - because he knew where he and Fitz would be, and it wouldn’t be the same place; Fitz would sit pretty, and Lennox would fight. When Fitz spoke of ruthlessness, Lennox nodded slowly. “So what do we do? Forget our humanity in order to defeat the real monsters, and perhaps in the process, become monsters ourselves? Or… I don’t know,” he said, taking another drag of his smoke. “You’re the thinker between the two of us.”
Fitz was quiet for a long moment, choosing his words carefully before he spoke. “It does mean that much to me,” he said finally, voice quiet. “I know how to be alone, and I can do it just fine, but given a choice between that and having you–” He cut himself short, eyes flicking down. He knew Lennox would understand the sentiment, and that’s what mattered. Not the fact that he couldn’t say, out loud, that he needed Lennox for fear of losing him. Not the fact that he was a coward. Lennox would understand. “Put your loyalty wherever you want to,” he said, clearing his throat and meeting Lennox’s eyes once more. “But be smart about it. That’s all I ask.” He lit a fresh cigarette, the rush of nicotine making him lightheaded in a pleasant, distracting sort of way. “It’s certainly not fair,” Fitz conceded. “But it’s the way the world works, isn’t it? We need people to fight, and we need people to lead. There has to be some sort of organization to the chaos. Otherwise, we’ll lose. Someone has to be watching out for the bigger picture, playing the whole field, rather than simply fighting the battle right in front of them. You certainly can’t begrudge people like Minister Tegus or Vice Minister Arundel for doing their jobs, can you? Even if they’re not fighting the way you want them to be fighting, they are doing important work. We simply have to rely on them, I suppose. Support them, listen to them, and speak up when they’re not doing enough or when they’re losing their way. That’s how we avoid becoming savages. We allow our government to do the jobs we’ve asked them to do, and we do what we can to help and support them.”