No — no, I couldn't have planned any of this even if I wanted to. Believe me. Everything I've always told you has been the truth. It is me who feels like I've changed.
[ If he had the choice to go back to believing in nothing more than bettering himself for no other reason than to see himself rise above everyone and everything else and never worry about his own safety and life again, would he?
It had been a solitary pursuit for years, and it was difficult, and it was messy. Even at the beginning of this entanglement with Margo, he'd been using her — but she was aware of it and she was even game to help him. And finally, when he'd earned the patronage of a Cardinal within the Volary did he get his chance to know some stability, even if it was still a little like walking on eggshells most days. He had bells for the first time, he had purpose, he had (some) power, he had a place. And more than that, despite his best efforts to keep to himself, he had a family he had chosen who cared about him more than any of his own blood relatives ever had.
Maybe it's opening himself up to Margo and Jyn and Nile and a small handful of others in these past years that have made him see the world differently, see it for more than his own step-ladder, because it was always going to skew imbalanced by the very nature of his birth. And it wasn't enough. It was never going to be enough. No matter how much higher he climbed, if by some miracle a Cardinal granted him a position like he'd dreamed of since he was a scrappy child in the lowest level of the Congregation, perhaps the world was always going to shrink around him anyway, a suffocating collar made from gold and greed. ]
[ At least there's that. This isn't some plot to use her and her connections, to trick her. In some way, she knew better, if only because she'd have been able to sus it out earlier if what was going on between them wasn't real.
It's a small comfort in the wake of what it all means.
It's not that Margo is heartless, that she doesn't see that there are people suffering but she has been raised (no, indocrtinated) to believe that this is the best way, the only way things can function or else the world would fall into chaos and everyone would suffer or even die. Margo isn't the idealistic type, she is practical, always has been. And what he's toeing along the edge of is dangerous, reckless and puts everyone around him at risk.
He apologizes and she closes her eye, her expression tightening again because she knows he is but that doesn't make this better, this doesn't undo the fact that he's put himself in the line of fire. Because it won't stay a secret, someone already knows and if someone knows, her father will find out.]
If we're still being honest then... I don't know what the fuck to do.
I don't know either. [ He could lie and tell her that he'll forget this conversation, put all of these thoughts away into a box somewhere and pretend this had never happened— but they both know he would be lying and they both know it wouldn't make a difference now.
Thoughts are a powerful thing, one small seed sown could change the entire world of that individual, make them see and feel and move differently. And like he was at a crossroads between two choices, he is at a loss as to what direction he should take, knowing that one of them will mean leaving Margo behind, perhaps leaving this entire life he'd painstakingly built for himself behind too. For both of their protection.
He lets his hands drop back to his sides and already it feels like a Herculean task. ]
I haven't done anything. [ Yet. ] Haven't breathed a word of this to anyone else.
[ To be honest, she's grateful he doesn't try to lie to her, to act as though he'd drop this once and for all. She knows him well enough by now and she too knows how seeds of doubt are sown. And she can already tell it's too late to stamp it out.
The world feels as though it's moving impossibly slow around her even as her heart feels like it might race right out of her chest. This is a crossroads she did not expect herself to be at... ever.
She reaches for his hands when they fall to his sides, taking them in hers and looking at them as she speaks.]
But you do intend to do something. [ She knows him. ]
[ He lets her hold them, grateful for the warmth of her skin against his, and eventually he makes it so he can twine his fingers with hers, to keep himself anchored even while the rest of his head is swimming in thoughts. Each one chases after the other, racing, so he's left unsure how to respond.
What comes out is a truthful: ] I don't know. [ But the way she isn't asking is enough to answer for both of them.
He's never really been the kind of man who sits back and does nothing, especially not when it concerns him in some way. Selfish, perhaps, but it's a skill he's had to learn from the beginning in order to survive for this long. And now the close circle of those he chose to be a part of his own family are in danger ... it would be cowardice to do nothing.
He thinks of Joe sending him books, risking his livelihood every time he does it, thinks of how badly their last conversation had gone, thinks of the importance of those messages hidden in scribbled text. And he thinks of Margo now, and how much it'll hurt her if he does something that ultimately jeopardizes his position here in the cozy comfort of the Volary, how it might ultimately end the small, private paradise they built with each other amidst the chaos around them. But she would have her family to keep her safe — strong, powerful, practically untouchable; she would always be protected, even if it was from him. ]
[ She's not a teenager anymore, she's a realist (and she's never been an optimist even when she was younger) And in the end, someone always ends up hurt or dead when it comes to star-crossed lovers.
That's where this is going, she can already sense it. Whatever fragile bit of happiness she'd found with him was going to be torn apart at the seams the moment he decides to do more. And she knows him well enough to know that time will come sooner rather than... never.
Fuck, it hurts. And there's a voice inside of her that berates her now, that calls her a fool for being so fucking indulgent, for letting herself fall without checking to see where she might land. Her stomach lurches and her heart aches, she looks down at their fingers tangled together and is afraid to say anything because once this moment ends, she knows nothing will ever be the same again.
Margo doesn't beg. She won't now even if she wants to, desperately. She cannot ask for the impossible, she cannot bend time to her will, to move him back to a time before he'd read the book or speak to whoever he had. And she cannot ask him not to be the man she knows he is, a man of action, a man who does not sit idly by and a man who ruthlessly protects his interests.
She'd come here to be ravaged thoroughly but now... it feels like she might be saying goodbye. ] Then there isn't... I suppose that's that.
The finality of those words, the softness in her voice, it feels like a fist squeezing something in his chest, tight and painful.
It occurs to him that he's never felt this before, the soreness in his chest, the sadness; he never thought he would. Before he can think to restrain himself, he lets go of her hands, pulls her to him instead and memorizes the way she feels in his arms, the warmth of her, the smell of her. Because it does feel like a goodbye, not at all what he'd expected to arise from their conversation, though it feels like it was always going to be inevitable and anything else that happened before it was just one more interaction leading towards it.
God. He loves her. He loves her so much.
He doesn't say anything. He can't confirm what she's said. Not yet. It's another moment of selfishness he grants to himself. ]
[ It doesn't matter how her heart flutters when he tugs her in close, like it always does when he touches her... She wants to rage at Sebastien, she wants to call him selfish, to call him a fucking fool. Most of all, she wants to tear him apart because right now he's doing that to her heart.
But she loves him. And it's not his fault, not really. Even through her own pain, she can see that. It's her own damn fault for opening her heart to him. It was her fault for thinking that anyone could prize her above anything else.
This might be the only way she can protect him and unfortunately, herself. The truth of it is, she's powerless to protect him if he decides to go down this path. And she knows it's not a matter of if but when. Her father is too powerful and he knows too much, Margo would not be able to keep this from Stephen if they carried on.
She buries her face against his chest as she closes her eye tightly to keep any of her weakness from showing, to keep the tears at bay.]
[ It is another selfish flash of a thought that makes him imagine a situation where he takes all of this back so they could return to the moment before he started to ask her about better futures. But what's done is done, what's said is said, and the Quarry is bigger than either of them. Lives of people who never deserved to be tossed into the arena are at stake, people Sébastien cares about.
He presses a kiss into Margo's hair, still not ready to let her go, to break the moment.
But eventually he takes a breath. Lets it out. ]
No one else knows how I feel, not yet. [ Sébastien is a very good actor when he needs to be. ] And I'll go before anyone finds me.
[ She feels the urge to ask him to take her with him, to throw away all that she's been born into and everything she's strived towards. And she feels a foreign, different sort of concern for those stationed beneath her. It's not that she doesn't care or think their treatment unjust but she knew that was just the way of things and to challenge the status quo was reckless, dangerous.
Her brow furrows and her hands move to his chest. ] Fuck. [ She lets out an uneven breath of her own.] Please be careful... I can't be with you but my heart is.
[ Sébastien places a hand over hers, presses their joined hands to him so she might feel the echo of his heart beating quicker than usual, the most telling reveal of the way he feels even when his expression still remains mostly calm. His eyes are deep when he looks at her, sad and worried and a little afraid.
He might not have much time between now and his next step, whatever that next step might entail. All he knows is that he needs to do something about the Quarry, he has to stop it somehow. He has to save the undeserving participants from an unjust execution. ]
I would never ask you to. [ Though in his wildest, most optimistic fantasies, he might imagine it. ] You also have my heart, always.
[This isn't some action-adventure romance written for young people, this is real life. She can't just give up the life she knows and trusts to follow him into oblivion even if a part of her wants to, even if she loves him.
Life doesn't work that way. This won't end well.
She feels ill and as though her world has collapsed all around her and his touch, his hand over hers doesn't anchor her like it used to, it only makes her feel more adrift, more miserable, and less at peace. He's going to die if he goes down that path and nothing she can do can stop that or stop him.
She lets out another agonized breath before she moves to kiss him one last time.]
[ Sébastien returns the kiss with fervor, with the kind of intensity followed by a forced goodbye, knowing this is the last time they're likely to have this.
It makes his entire chest feel tight and heavy all at once, and when he follows her movement into the kiss, it's with the intention of leaving that memory of him with her, whatever happens next. He lifts a hand to bury itself into her hair, to cup the back of her neck and keep them connected to each other. His other hand pulls her into him, arm wrapped around her waist.
This might be real life, but Sébastien will kiss her like they're in an action-adventure romance. ]
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no subject
[ If he had the choice to go back to believing in nothing more than bettering himself for no other reason than to see himself rise above everyone and everything else and never worry about his own safety and life again, would he?
It had been a solitary pursuit for years, and it was difficult, and it was messy. Even at the beginning of this entanglement with Margo, he'd been using her — but she was aware of it and she was even game to help him. And finally, when he'd earned the patronage of a Cardinal within the Volary did he get his chance to know some stability, even if it was still a little like walking on eggshells most days. He had bells for the first time, he had purpose, he had (some) power, he had a place. And more than that, despite his best efforts to keep to himself, he had a family he had chosen who cared about him more than any of his own blood relatives ever had.
Maybe it's opening himself up to Margo and Jyn and Nile and a small handful of others in these past years that have made him see the world differently, see it for more than his own step-ladder, because it was always going to skew imbalanced by the very nature of his birth. And it wasn't enough. It was never going to be enough. No matter how much higher he climbed, if by some miracle a Cardinal granted him a position like he'd dreamed of since he was a scrappy child in the lowest level of the Congregation, perhaps the world was always going to shrink around him anyway, a suffocating collar made from gold and greed. ]
I'm sorry, mon trésor.
no subject
It's a small comfort in the wake of what it all means.
It's not that Margo is heartless, that she doesn't see that there are people suffering but she has been raised (no, indocrtinated) to believe that this is the best way, the only way things can function or else the world would fall into chaos and everyone would suffer or even die. Margo isn't the idealistic type, she is practical, always has been. And what he's toeing along the edge of is dangerous, reckless and puts everyone around him at risk.
He apologizes and she closes her eye, her expression tightening again because she knows he is but that doesn't make this better, this doesn't undo the fact that he's put himself in the line of fire. Because it won't stay a secret, someone already knows and if someone knows, her father will find out.]
If we're still being honest then... I don't know what the fuck to do.
no subject
Thoughts are a powerful thing, one small seed sown could change the entire world of that individual, make them see and feel and move differently. And like he was at a crossroads between two choices, he is at a loss as to what direction he should take, knowing that one of them will mean leaving Margo behind, perhaps leaving this entire life he'd painstakingly built for himself behind too. For both of their protection.
He lets his hands drop back to his sides and already it feels like a Herculean task. ]
I haven't done anything. [ Yet. ] Haven't breathed a word of this to anyone else.
no subject
The world feels as though it's moving impossibly slow around her even as her heart feels like it might race right out of her chest. This is a crossroads she did not expect herself to be at... ever.
She reaches for his hands when they fall to his sides, taking them in hers and looking at them as she speaks.]
But you do intend to do something. [ She knows him. ]
no subject
What comes out is a truthful: ] I don't know. [ But the way she isn't asking is enough to answer for both of them.
He's never really been the kind of man who sits back and does nothing, especially not when it concerns him in some way. Selfish, perhaps, but it's a skill he's had to learn from the beginning in order to survive for this long. And now the close circle of those he chose to be a part of his own family are in danger ... it would be cowardice to do nothing.
He thinks of Joe sending him books, risking his livelihood every time he does it, thinks of how badly their last conversation had gone, thinks of the importance of those messages hidden in scribbled text. And he thinks of Margo now, and how much it'll hurt her if he does something that ultimately jeopardizes his position here in the cozy comfort of the Volary, how it might ultimately end the small, private paradise they built with each other amidst the chaos around them. But she would have her family to keep her safe — strong, powerful, practically untouchable; she would always be protected, even if it was from him. ]
no subject
That's where this is going, she can already sense it. Whatever fragile bit of happiness she'd found with him was going to be torn apart at the seams the moment he decides to do more. And she knows him well enough to know that time will come sooner rather than... never.
Fuck, it hurts. And there's a voice inside of her that berates her now, that calls her a fool for being so fucking indulgent, for letting herself fall without checking to see where she might land. Her stomach lurches and her heart aches, she looks down at their fingers tangled together and is afraid to say anything because once this moment ends, she knows nothing will ever be the same again.
Margo doesn't beg. She won't now even if she wants to, desperately. She cannot ask for the impossible, she cannot bend time to her will, to move him back to a time before he'd read the book or speak to whoever he had. And she cannot ask him not to be the man she knows he is, a man of action, a man who does not sit idly by and a man who ruthlessly protects his interests.
She'd come here to be ravaged thoroughly but now... it feels like she might be saying goodbye. ] Then there isn't... I suppose that's that.
no subject
The finality of those words, the softness in her voice, it feels like a fist squeezing something in his chest, tight and painful.
It occurs to him that he's never felt this before, the soreness in his chest, the sadness; he never thought he would. Before he can think to restrain himself, he lets go of her hands, pulls her to him instead and memorizes the way she feels in his arms, the warmth of her, the smell of her. Because it does feel like a goodbye, not at all what he'd expected to arise from their conversation, though it feels like it was always going to be inevitable and anything else that happened before it was just one more interaction leading towards it.
God. He loves her. He loves her so much.
He doesn't say anything. He can't confirm what she's said. Not yet. It's another moment of selfishness he grants to himself. ]
no subject
But she loves him. And it's not his fault, not really. Even through her own pain, she can see that. It's her own damn fault for opening her heart to him. It was her fault for thinking that anyone could prize her above anything else.
This might be the only way she can protect him and unfortunately, herself. The truth of it is, she's powerless to protect him if he decides to go down this path. And she knows it's not a matter of if but when. Her father is too powerful and he knows too much, Margo would not be able to keep this from Stephen if they carried on.
She buries her face against his chest as she closes her eye tightly to keep any of her weakness from showing, to keep the tears at bay.]
You know they'll kill you if you do this.
no subject
He presses a kiss into Margo's hair, still not ready to let her go, to break the moment.
But eventually he takes a breath. Lets it out. ]
No one else knows how I feel, not yet. [ Sébastien is a very good actor when he needs to be. ] And I'll go before anyone finds me.
no subject
Her brow furrows and her hands move to his chest. ] Fuck. [ She lets out an uneven breath of her own.] Please be careful... I can't be with you but my heart is.
no subject
He might not have much time between now and his next step, whatever that next step might entail. All he knows is that he needs to do something about the Quarry, he has to stop it somehow. He has to save the undeserving participants from an unjust execution. ]
I would never ask you to. [ Though in his wildest, most optimistic fantasies, he might imagine it. ] You also have my heart, always.
no subject
Life doesn't work that way. This won't end well.
She feels ill and as though her world has collapsed all around her and his touch, his hand over hers doesn't anchor her like it used to, it only makes her feel more adrift, more miserable, and less at peace. He's going to die if he goes down that path and nothing she can do can stop that or stop him.
She lets out another agonized breath before she moves to kiss him one last time.]
no subject
It makes his entire chest feel tight and heavy all at once, and when he follows her movement into the kiss, it's with the intention of leaving that memory of him with her, whatever happens next. He lifts a hand to bury itself into her hair, to cup the back of her neck and keep them connected to each other. His other hand pulls her into him, arm wrapped around her waist.
This might be real life, but Sébastien will kiss her like they're in an action-adventure romance. ]