Oh, calm down. You look like you're about to shit a brick.
[ That's profane enough that this clearly isn't that bad. But still - there's that awkward air. He fiddles momentarily with his pen, a smile on his lips, and says - ]
[The phrasing is enough to bring a familiar wrinkle to Benedict's nose, a common reaction to when Byerly gets especially vulgar, but no actual admonition is given. It's part of their rapport: Byerly says something rude, Benedict gives him the stinkeye, they move on.
He doesn't chime in, too tongue-tied with anticipation to get lippy or try to hurry things along, but his expression becomes slightly more imploring. Out with it, please.]
[The words land, and they're neither better nor worse than Benedict was anticipating: well, all right, maybe a little better, in that nobody's dying or being fired. A silence settles between them as he processes it, no doubt trying to determine whether to panic and exactly how much. So far, he holds off.]
Why? [he asks, and the word isn't as accusatory as it might be; it's spoken quietly, almost in the same tone that someone might say 'are you all right'.]
[ His smile is crooked, and wry, and there's a bit of pain in it, too. ]
And it made me realize that - Well, I don't want to spend all my time in this world doing something I hate. And I have been unselfish for several years, now, and think I've earned the right to selfishness again.
[As easily as he sneered before, Benedict mirrors the smile that's flashed his way, even if it dwindles shortly after. Recent events put a lot of things in perspective; one of which, as much as he might have hated to admit it not too long ago, is that Byerly is important to him. That he cares about his happiness.
But still: there are other factors to consider.]
What does this mean? [he continues in a low, controlled, tone: he's still working to keep panic at bay, because growing empathy doesn't make his position any more precarious. He's not going to pick a fight about it-- and he's not getting clapped in irons and hauled away, so perhaps catastrophizing won't help anything, tempting though it may be.]
If there's one thing that's been made clear, it's that you don't need my protection any more. When I was gone, no one did a thing against you. You've been a steady and loyal member of this organization for years now - no one is interested in persecuting you.
[The subtle shifting of Benedict’s eyes indicates this might not be entirely true, as he sees it, but he doesn’t argue: he’s got it handled, or something. He’ll figure it out.
More importantly, and with a discomfort that manifests itself as haughty:]
You’re not leaving, are you?
[He looks stuck up because he always does, but the question contains far more than judgment.]
[ Maker. What to do with this? Byerly has been accustomed, all his life, to people finding ways to avoid talking to him. Never once has he heard someone express an anxiety that he'd go away - only ever anxiety that he wouldn't go away.
What a strange life it is, he reflects, that he has come to lead. ]
[Bene's smile returns, but goes a bit strange: he's not sure he wants to see that happen. Historically, he doesn't lend himself well to outranking people.
But no need to borrow trouble from the future, maybe it won't happen.]
I have been scandal-free for going on four years now. Or close enough to scandal-free. I wouldn't even have to try to be more scandalous than I have been. If anything, it shall be like releasing a muscle that has been clenched for far too long.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ That's profane enough that this clearly isn't that bad. But still - there's that awkward air. He fiddles momentarily with his pen, a smile on his lips, and says - ]
So - I've come to a bit of a decision.
no subject
He doesn't chime in, too tongue-tied with anticipation to get lippy or try to hurry things along, but his expression becomes slightly more imploring. Out with it, please.]
no subject
I've decided to step down as head of Diplomacy. Go back to being an ordinary diplomat.
no subject
Why? [he asks, and the word isn't as accusatory as it might be; it's spoken quietly, almost in the same tone that someone might say 'are you all right'.]
no subject
[ His smile is crooked, and wry, and there's a bit of pain in it, too. ]
And it made me realize that - Well, I don't want to spend all my time in this world doing something I hate. And I have been unselfish for several years, now, and think I've earned the right to selfishness again.
no subject
But still: there are other factors to consider.]
What does this mean? [he continues in a low, controlled, tone: he's still working to keep panic at bay, because growing empathy doesn't make his position any more precarious. He's not going to pick a fight about it-- and he's not getting clapped in irons and hauled away, so perhaps catastrophizing won't help anything, tempting though it may be.]
no subject
[ He looks at Benedict. ]
If there's one thing that's been made clear, it's that you don't need my protection any more. When I was gone, no one did a thing against you. You've been a steady and loyal member of this organization for years now - no one is interested in persecuting you.
no subject
More importantly, and with a discomfort that manifests itself as haughty:]
You’re not leaving, are you?
[He looks stuck up because he always does, but the question contains far more than judgment.]
no subject
Would it upset you if I did?
[ - but it's not mocking or cruel. For once, it's a genuine question. ]
no subject
no subject
No. It is not my intention to leave. There's still a war to be fought, after all.
no subject
And you’ll still, [he begins, but stops the question before he can ask it. Too pathetic, abort,]
no subject
Still...? What?
no subject
He looks down and away, holding onto what little poise he can maintain in this moment.]
…talk to me, [he mumbles.
It’s been years, and they’ve spent almost every day together in some capacity. Suddenly not having Byerly around sounds strange. Sad.]
no subject
What a strange life it is, he reflects, that he has come to lead. ]
I suppose that depends.
[ His voice is light, and far from unkind. ]
Do you have any intention of becoming a bore?
no subject
It's a joke.]
no subject
[ A little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. ]
If you stay on as assistant, you may even end up my superior.
no subject
[Bene's smile returns, but goes a bit strange: he's not sure he wants to see that happen. Historically, he doesn't lend himself well to outranking people.
But no need to borrow trouble from the future, maybe it won't happen.]
What will you do instead?
no subject
[ He shrugs. ]
Be a bit more dissolute, a bit more scandalous. Rub elbows with less respectable company.
no subject
no subject
[ He seems affronted at this question. ]
I have been scandal-free for going on four years now. Or close enough to scandal-free. I wouldn't even have to try to be more scandalous than I have been. If anything, it shall be like releasing a muscle that has been clenched for far too long.
no subject
no subject
[ His fingertips give a faint sense of awkwardness as he fiddles with his pen. ]
So you are...all right with this?
no subject
I have to be, don't I?
no subject
[ The awkwardness grows just a bit. ]
You can, in fact, forbid it. If you so choose. I - will not leave you without protection if you truly feel you must have it.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)