![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Altriona: Throwing Honour to the Winds
Mar. 5th, 2010 06:19 amLorandara and I have spent a great deal of time these last few days up in the crow's nest with Mallion. The crew, especially the newly-hired humans, are saying horrible things. No matter. They will be gone soon enough.
Mallion has changed. My gentle brother, composer of poetry, he who disliked fighting even to first blood, has decided what we who love him had been unwilling to admit: there is no way to return him to his elven form, or if there is, the risk is too great to undertake it. He had been on the cusp of despair throughout the voyage, but now that it has settled in, he has taken on traits I had never seen before: an iron will and an unwillingness to bend before anyone. Father, who often despaired of his too-gentle son, might well approve more of this one, were it not for the change of form that led to the change of spirit. (It is becoming easier to write of Father as one dead. How many different weights can one heart carry, and still leave its bed each day?)
The result of our conversation was thus. We have no more excuses to continue our journey as Imholiens; the patricide has taken them out from under us. But we need no excuses, for we have a reason: he is a patricide, he has stolen the House from his brother by means so foul they are near-impossible to admit even to ourselves, and we will not yield to his headship of our House.
The law being on his side, we cannot remain in defiance and retain lawfulness. Therefore we shall forfeit the law, make our own laws, and take our erstwhile House apart - one ship at a time.
If we cannot have justice, nor honour, nor any other noble virtue, we shall at the least have revenge.
Before that can be accomplished, we must needs find a crew willing to sail with a beastman, indeed with him leading them. We must also put off our elven and human crews, hopefully without the elves dying of it; I care somewhat less about the humans, who can be put off in Sartosa for all the care I have of their welfare. The elves are different, however. If only one act of honour remains to us before we undertake this, it must be this: that Tidurion and his crew are put off safely in a safe port, whence they can make their way back to Marienberg without difficulty. We will even warn them that if they are found on Imholien ships in the future, they will be part of our prey, and we will grant them no quarter. Mallion will tell them who he really is, to strike fear into their hearts, and will begin the rumours which will beset the patricide until we can lay him low.
Not so long ago, in the pages of this very journal, I asked what value there was in a name. It seems I can keep my name, for its value now is to strike fear of our revenge into the hearts of those once our allies. It is my House I must renounce, and any benefit I might ever again receive as its scion. And I find, with the moment now at hand, that it is an act of freedom to do so. Does the slave note his chains only when they are stricken from him? Does new-found liberty always bring with it this desperate joy? Someday I shall find someone to ask.
Mallion has changed. My gentle brother, composer of poetry, he who disliked fighting even to first blood, has decided what we who love him had been unwilling to admit: there is no way to return him to his elven form, or if there is, the risk is too great to undertake it. He had been on the cusp of despair throughout the voyage, but now that it has settled in, he has taken on traits I had never seen before: an iron will and an unwillingness to bend before anyone. Father, who often despaired of his too-gentle son, might well approve more of this one, were it not for the change of form that led to the change of spirit. (It is becoming easier to write of Father as one dead. How many different weights can one heart carry, and still leave its bed each day?)
The result of our conversation was thus. We have no more excuses to continue our journey as Imholiens; the patricide has taken them out from under us. But we need no excuses, for we have a reason: he is a patricide, he has stolen the House from his brother by means so foul they are near-impossible to admit even to ourselves, and we will not yield to his headship of our House.
The law being on his side, we cannot remain in defiance and retain lawfulness. Therefore we shall forfeit the law, make our own laws, and take our erstwhile House apart - one ship at a time.
If we cannot have justice, nor honour, nor any other noble virtue, we shall at the least have revenge.
Before that can be accomplished, we must needs find a crew willing to sail with a beastman, indeed with him leading them. We must also put off our elven and human crews, hopefully without the elves dying of it; I care somewhat less about the humans, who can be put off in Sartosa for all the care I have of their welfare. The elves are different, however. If only one act of honour remains to us before we undertake this, it must be this: that Tidurion and his crew are put off safely in a safe port, whence they can make their way back to Marienberg without difficulty. We will even warn them that if they are found on Imholien ships in the future, they will be part of our prey, and we will grant them no quarter. Mallion will tell them who he really is, to strike fear into their hearts, and will begin the rumours which will beset the patricide until we can lay him low.
Not so long ago, in the pages of this very journal, I asked what value there was in a name. It seems I can keep my name, for its value now is to strike fear of our revenge into the hearts of those once our allies. It is my House I must renounce, and any benefit I might ever again receive as its scion. And I find, with the moment now at hand, that it is an act of freedom to do so. Does the slave note his chains only when they are stricken from him? Does new-found liberty always bring with it this desperate joy? Someday I shall find someone to ask.