#|| response

[powerfulresponsibility]

|| @lethalandlonely feel free to tag yourself in anything i post up! tag or not, it’s free game yo.

[crownguarded-blog]

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Send me a ✍ for me to write a small drabble about your muse from my muse’s perspective!       || No longer accepting!

There’s a particular kind of loneliness that settles into the heart after a while, and it aches, it aches-- that’s how it calls out to the world, a quiet howl that resonates in your ribs and trickles down your spine like ice. It’s something he’s grown used to, now tucked away in a box under lock and key on the chance that it may someday be forgotten. Garen’s made his peace with that, but sometimes, all the restraints slip just enough.

They’ve sat in silence for a few minutes now, looking out over the edge of the balcony at Demacia below. He’s braced his elbows against the railing, and Lux stands a few feet behind him to his left--his guard is down and his back is turned, and the number of people he allows to stay out of his sight is small. (Not that it would’ve mattered much in her case; if, for whatever reason, she’d have had to kill him, Garen knows full well that her magic would be more than enough to match him. He’s not even armed, the usual shortsword on his belt left elsewhere for the time being.)The skyline cuts a silhouette’s edge against the sunlight, the bustle below only serving as a reminder that he should be working right now. Instead, he’s here, taking deep breaths to try and slow his heart while he does his best to focus on something else. Lux had the misfortune of stumbling in on something Garen would’ve much preferred to leave a secret--it was only a small panic attack, yes, but still a moment of what he’d willingly call weakness no matter its true name. He’d gotten through most of it by now, although the effects hadn’t quite left him yet--

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

Her voice snaps him back to the moment, and he almost startles--but she’s been there all along, as his thoughts remind him. She hasn’t left, hasn’t tried to crowd him--she’s probably worked through this sort of thing a few times herself, he’d wager. They’ve had their distance and their problems, but Lux was a constant in spite of all that, a guiding star that he’s followed more than a few times. Garen breathes out in a slow sigh, straightening up and turning to face her. She’s wearing a tiny smile, one meant to be reassuring; he’s pretty sure he looks tired as hell by comparison, worn and frayed like the battered soldier he was. (He should ask Lux how she manages to keep her composure so effortlessly. He’s mastered the art in public, but in private--not so much.) 

She raises her arms, giving him a slight nod when he hesitates. The hug is awkward at first, a little stilted and uneven--but he relaxes after a moment, and Lux squeezes him tighter in response. “See, I’m the one doing it so you don’t wind up cracking my spine.” Her voice is muffled, and Garen pulls back just enough to where her face isn’t quite as mashed into his shoulder. Lux gives a quiet chuckle, and he flashes her a genuine smile; after a pause, he reaches up to ruffle her hair, even laughing when she protests. Although she tries, she can’t manage to do the same to him--he’s too far up to reach, and the fact that she’s pretty well constricted at the moment isn’t helping.“You’re not even playing fair-- Come on!”

He rolls his eyes with a grin, leaning forward just enough to where Lux can get him back for it. She’s practically giving him a noogie at this point, and it’s clear that she isn’t showing him any mercy; he’d been the one to give her the window, so he couldn’t exactly complain. (This had been expected, anyway. It could’ve been worse.)

They’ve eased apart by now, and Lux glances up at him. “...doing any better?” she asks after a long pause, cocking an eyebrow. Garen hesitates to answer, and she doesn’t try to rush him. He’s thankful for that as he sifts through his thoughts, wordlessly checking and rechecking all manner of things bouncing around in his head.“Yeah. Yeah, I’m-- I’m alright.” Tired, but--’alright’ was good enough, he reasoned. Better than he was earlier, that was for certain.“Good.” Another block of silence, although this one’s far more relaxed than before. She joins him at the railing, leaning against Garen rather than anything else--he’s more than sturdy enough to support her weight, and he hardly even notices.

“...thanks, Lux.”

[crownguarded-blog]

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They were supposed to be alike, weren’t they? At least somewhat–there was that sort of implied connection with siblings, a link or a bond that kept them from unraveling each other. Garen was never quite sure if they’d actually managed to achieve something like that, but he hoped so, even though plenty of his heart told him not to expect it. He’d been gone for so long, his memory kept alive in the Crownguard estate through retold stories and status reports.  And then she too had been called to arms, and their ghosts lingered together in a place that was no longer home.

He’s not sure how to talk to her after so long spent apart. They’ve both been melted down and reforged into different people by now, ones better suited to handle the stress of war and their duties–if they actually managed to talk for more than a few minutes, would they even recognize each other? It wasn’t entirely for lack of trying; Garen just didn’t know how to go about finding that common ground again. There was plenty that they shared, from secrets now dusty with age to scars kept hidden. But was it enough? He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to test it for fear of failure. Lux was his only sibling, and not just that–she was the only other Crownguard he honestly liked, which made her quite the exception. He often wished that his family wasn’t the way it was.

But was she alright, he wondered? With so much more to deal with, with all that had happened–it was a lot to take in and process, although the damage had been done over years and years. Perhaps that would have made it easier; although in his case, it had only dulled the ache rather than wash it away completely. He worries about her, no matter the gulf between them.He should try to fix things. There had to be a way, right? But forcing the issue–no, no. Garen wouldn’t risk making things far worse. Did she even want to try, either? Another question he’d considered, with an answer he couldn’t possibly know for certain.

He’d just have to be content with keeping an eye on her from afar, then. There were too many uncertainties involved for him to try on his own.

[crownguarded-blog]

♣

|| flaws -

So much for the distraction. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t at least given it a shot.

“Awfully persistent today, I see.” It wasn’t phrased as a question--he didn’t need to hear the answer to know that he wasn’t going to get out of this without talking, as loathe as he was to do so. Garen took a deep breath, letting it out slowly after a second of quietly collecting his thoughts; even though he hated the very idea of this, it was best to get it over with as soon as possible so he could push it out of his mind like so many other things.

“Fine, fine. But you can’t use this on me later, or I’m never telling you anything ever again--and I mean it.” He fixes Lux with a pointed stare, although it doesn’t last long at all before he drops it.“This sort of...bothers me, though. I don’t know if maybe something isn’t quite right with me or--something else, which is part of the problem. It’s, ah--a little hard to entirely explain.I can’t quite tell if I’m too on-edge all the time, or... Well, no, that’s just--” Garen gives an exasperated sigh, frowning while he tries to put the idea back on track. “I don’t feel as though I can trust many people. And I know I should be able to! Some of those that I don’t trust are my friends, which is a mess in and of itself.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he lets the mess of words pouring out of his mouth trickle to silence. He’s not done, and even though he’d much rather not say anything else, he can’t help but finish it off. Perhaps if he ends it, there won’t be any further questions poised; he can only hope.“It’s--probably nothing. Just me being too paranoid--it seems that I haven’t quite readjusted to living outside of a warzone as well as I’d thought.”

[crownguarded-blog]

♣

|| flaws -

“Oh, come on. You probably know more of these than I do.”He’s trying to play it off with a joke, although it only takes a few moments before his smile turns wry. He can tell that his deflection hadn’t worked as planned, and Garen seems far less than thrilled about the fact as he shakes his head, shifting uncomfortably in place. Out of all the people who could corner him like this, Lux had to be the first and foremost. He drops into a tense parade rest, folding his hands behind his back in an effort to better control these nervous motions.

“…sometimes it’s–hard for me to…empathize with people, I suppose. I’m not sure if that’s precisely the correct word, but I believe it works either way.” Garen seems to be quite preoccupied with looking just about anywhere other than at Lux, brow furrowed and gloved hands curling into fists. “It’s not the most recent development, but it’s frustrating all the same. I understand why they feel as they do, but it doesn’t seem to process properly. It’s–different if I know them, for some reason. I get it then! Just fine, in fact. With other people, however…”A small shrug; his armor clinks and rattles softly with the movement, the sudden muted burst of noise almost enough to startle him. He takes the opportunity to fiddle with one of his pauldrons, hoping the presumed shift in his attention will end the conversation without much further discussion.

[crownguarded-blog]

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The silent songstress is a revered figure, floating through many circles far higher than his. No matter how decorated he is or how high his rank, he’s still just a soldier; Garen has never been a man who’s had much opportunity to spend his time at concerts or performances, although he’s had the fortune to see her play only three times. It’s incredible, the way Sona can make those strings raise their voices like some ethereal choir–while her etwahl is far from mundane on its own, a magic instrument on its own doesn’t account for the skill with which she operates. 

He remembers the first concert he found himself at quite well. There had been an end to the skirmishes on one of the countless fronts he’d been posted to, and Garen had finally been given enough time to go home to Demacia and rest. Being back in such a bustling city after so many long months of combat had been harrowing, and he’d almost requested to be deployed again as soon as possible so as to remove himself from the additional stress; he’d missed that window thanks to a few well-contained breakdowns, and he’d found himself shuffled along with a handful of other soldiers on a celebratory procession to reward them for their service. Garen had predicted it to be a rather unsavory night, all things considered–but they’d eventually filtered into the concert hall according to schedule, with him still shellshocked in his dress uniform and an empty look haunting his eyes.He’d jumped and startled plenty at the opening, his resolve the only thing keeping him standing tall and outwardly proud as some announcer somewhere read what he was sure was supposed to be a commendation, the spotlight redirecting the attention to the band of soldiers. Garen hadn’t found it so easy to maintain his facade then, and he was more than relieved when it was over. The lights dimmed, they sat down, and the stage slowly began to come to life. He’d cringed again when the spotlights came on once more, and there she was.

Flowing blue and gold, sparkling brighter than the stage around her–there she was. The first notes came quietly, something he appreciated more than anything else that had happened tonight; it gave him enough time to prepare for the volume, and he’d braced himself appropriately. But the melody that danced through the air was unlike anything he’d heard–it was more than just a performance, notes fading out into oblivion. The song carried a subtle undercurrent of calm, rippling with each chord; painfully slowly, Garen began to relax, letting himself become as caught up on the music as everyone else was.

Although the feeling of peace had lasted for the remained of the concert, it had been brief in the long run; it was just enough to get him through the rest of the night, and that was more than enough for him. While he hasn’t been able to spend much time with the musician responsible, Sona’s more than earned a place of high regard in his book. Since that first night, he’s made a point to keep up with when her concerts are just in case he can manage to make it to another one–he hasn’t quite had that stroke of luck yet, but he checks all the same. Maybe he’ll try springing to go to one of the Ionian ones next time. A change of scenery might be just the trick.

[crownguarded-blog]

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She was star-fire, a cold burn kept tightly controlled and distanced. He thinks, anyway–Garen can’t say he’s ever talked too much with Soraka, but the fact that she was that intimidating was undeniable. He’d heard tales, filtered through dozens of people and likely distorted along the way; stories of a fabled healer, wading through the wreckage left after combat and performing miracles. Soraka was an agent of balance to others, a corrector standing against so many wrongs to strike them down before they could rise. One source even said she’d suplexed none other than the Golden Demon, but that was…probably unlikely. Not that he wasn’t sure she could do it, but–well, maybe she had, for all he knew. (He would’ve paid to see that, were it true. Maybe she could do the same with Darius sometime.)

Garen did know one thing for certain–he had no idea what was authentic, and what was fabricated. (Alright, not exactly none, but he was operating on far less information than he usually had. How did one get in contact with a Starchild, anyway? Something to look into, he figured. Just in case.) The mysteries surrounding her might have added layers of intrigue to most people, but to a soldier now accustomed to paperwork and all its frustrations, the end result was just something of a headache.

He had plenty of questions he could ask her. Had she ever intervened in any of the battles he’d fought in? She had to have all manner of responsibilities–were they different from those of most people due to her role and nature, or did she have to deal with the same annoyances? (A Starchild likely didn’t have to do paperwork, though. Probably. That would be awful, wouldn’t it?) Did she pick where to appear based on some grander cosmic scheme that Garen wasn’t even going to remotely try to understand right now, or was it on account of something more simple than that? But–no, it wasn’t his place to drill her with all his inquiries, really. She very clearly had more than enough on her plate, what with all the connotations of being a legendary figure as it was. Being interrogated by some Demacian likely wasn’t going to find its way to her agenda any time soon.…that didn’t keep him from wondering, though. If the time ever came, well–he’d be more than ready.