Snippet #2811960

located in Volant, a part of Nighthawk, one of the many universes on RPG.

Volant

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Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier Character Portrait: Callum
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Bertrand raised an eyebrow as Deryn spoke, straightening one of the bows in her hair. It seemed that Alouette had decided that green was the best color for Deryn’s hair. He wondered if she would agree. He was glad she was getting on well with his sisters. That would, perhaps, make it easier for her in the years to come as she adjusted to her new life. Both of his sisters would leave, eventually, and he knew that, but for the time, he was glad that Deryn had them. They, especially his mother (he guessed), would understand some of her feelings better than Bertrand could.

He had to admit, her logic surrounding the wedding made sense. It was a show. It was also, he thought, a way for his mother to get the wedding ceremony her marriage had lacked. His parent’s own marriage had been tossed together quickly and carelessly, and they’d all but been instructed to have an heir immediately. As the eldest son of the youngest prince-turned king, Bertrand had to admit that they all still felt the ramifications of that sometimes. He didn’t voice that opinion, though. His family’s history was well known, it was unlikely that Deryn needed reminding. He stood back as she went to look closer at the trees. He’d seen their blooms countless times, and while he still found them beautiful, he wasn’t as impressed by them as he once was.

“There's a part of me that feels like their kindness is all for nothing. A part of me that knows I might never belong here, try and try as I might. I'm not here because I love you, and I think they know that, but how could I ever hope to be a part of this place when the reason I'm here is a lie?”

Deryn’s words all but broke his heart.

Sometimes he wished he could love her, or that she could have the benefit of marrying someone who could. She was beautiful and kind, and deserved more than the lonely life she was going to get. He looked at her for a moment, carefully considering his words before he spoke them. He wanted to assure her that the way she felt wasn’t, somehow, a moral failing or something, but he also didn’t want to say something that may hurt her feelings or somehow increase her worries. A part of him wished Callum was there, acting as some sort of shadow, but in the time since they’d arrived, Callum had seemingly decided that Bertrand was no threat to Deryn’s person or virtue (which, while true, did sting slightly), and thus they were alone.

He quickly stepped to fill the space by her side, resting a comforting hand on her arm, “Deryn, princes don’t marry for love,” He paused, only a second, instantly wishing he’d tried a different comforting tactic, “I’m fortunate to be marrying such a good friend. Ainara hasn’t even met the man she’s been promised to, yet.” He let out a sigh, folding his hands together behind his back, “I don’t think I could understand what you’re feeling, though. I do, however, promise you that this has always-and will always-been a place that welcomes you.” He tilted his head to the side, like a dog trying to understand what it had been told, “Despite all the love you don’t feel for me, your role here is quite solidified.” He was speaking very practically, then. He sounded-to himself-like his father. So matter-of-fact, as if he were commenting on the weather. He smiled, adding, “Besides, Alouette would go back to torturing me in your absence, and I can’t have that. The ribbons look much better on you, anyway.”

The hope, of course, was to lighten the mood. Still, Bertand also wanted to help quell Deryn’s fears, “Can I help you feel like you belong? If there is anything I can do, don’t hesitate to tell me.” He knew that it was very likely that a part of her would never fully feel like she belonged, but there was no reason to let her go on feeling like her entire life was a lie.