Enslaved to Duty (Helle/Anis)

“And what’s wrong with a little arrogance? Is it not what humans use to hide their insecurities? Ah, but I suppose your current situation wouldn’t allow for such a complicated emotional investment.”

One would definitely call that a fired shot at Cyrus’ disposition. Kelheh Zam’s expression did not waver even the slightest at the accusations thrown her way. Is dissociation not but a method of comfortability? Yes. If asked, that is exactly how the Aspect would respond. Clearly, Helle’s issues are something that deep down, the woman herself finds trivial and childlike in nature. She hates the way her emotions run rampant at times. Maybe there lies envy, the man who she wishes she could replicate at times to keep a level head always everpresent in her thoughts. At other times, there is anger, anger that what she is feeling is hers alone to experience. Emotions are a silly thing at times.

“You think me folly? Silly. I raise questions about my own existence and wellbeing. I can find parts of myself weak and foolish. I can also find parts of myself strong and enlightening. If anything, agreeing with you simply means I am performing a self assessment, no?”

Her smile never wavered, not in the face of the Swift Flame. In fact, his closed eyes only worsened her grin. Has she become that unpleasant already? “Ah, you would have me lay, bear, my heart for someone who cannot share such burdens? You told me of how you once felt love, and now, expect me to bark and sit at your whim. Pssh. As if your ‘understanding’ of what you once knew was enough, is enough.”

Suddenly, her smile fell into a disgruntled sneer. He wants to know why she finds trouble around him, why his presence bothers her so greatly at times? Ah, how she wishes she could turn off her emotions. Kelheh Zam despised how she felt for her other Aspects, for this man.

“You’re a trap My Liege. Everyday my heart flutters, and for what? Oh no. Helle would never share what you desire to know, but I… I hate you. I hate your eyes, your fake smiles, your emotionless stares, the way you calm me, the way you rile me up, but most of all, I hate how you experience pain… Pain… The pain you experience just so I can feel happy, even if just for a little bit: your true smile, your true warmth, your mistakes…, my mistakes. I hate being human because I’ll only keep making the same mistake over and over and over. And, that mistake? Is you.”

With a look of anger, dismay, and disgust all wrapped up in one, Kelheh Zam jumps from the desk and walks away from the man that has troubled her heart and changed her soul. To the window she escapes, allowing for her gaze to witness the streets below that are far too empty for comfort, such as her heart at times. “Well, are you happy? My Liege?”

"You and I may be equals, Kelheh, but do not act for a moment as if you understand my situation. You may recall that I have done my utmost to keep you from having to know it."

Kouroush Atar Vazishta did not care if he spoke out of turn. It was not in his nature to worry about tact, or the kindness of his words. For him, all that mattered was cutting to the core of the issue. He listened to every word she said, and no sooner had she finished speaking than he simply replied in turn. He did not take time to think about his response. He simply spoke.

"I would have you lay the truth before me as your equal. That is what I ask of you, expect of you, as one of the only people who live that I may share the full truth of my existence with. You may hate me all you wish. I envy you for that."

Standing, Cyrus walked toward Helle, each step echoing through the office, firm and without hesitation. Despite his unassuming appearance, he was a strong man, even moreso when empowered by his divinity; there was no difficulty in gripping Helle by the shoulder, turning her to him, and pushing her, a bit unceremoniously, against that very window. He looked into her eye with a profound intensity; such was, after all, the nature of the Swift Flame, crashing down from the heavens in a blinding flash.

"You know already the answer to the question you ask. That to feel even the faintest sliver of happiness causes me agony unlike any that could possibly be conveyed through human speech. I endure this agony, not out of necessity, but out of love. I am willing to suffer for the sake of the people throughout this world, who I have sworn to watch over and to protect."

His grip on her shoulder tightened, just a hair. There was, in whatever small way it could exist, emotion in his words, in his actions.

"You are my equal. You are the singular person to ever exist that I have shared such a totality of my being with. You ask if I am happy, but I cannot give you an answer so simple as that. I had thought I had known love before- but no. I knew nothing but blind attraction. To love someone is far more intimate, causes me a pain far greater than base instincts. There are moments in which I look upon you and I know pain beyond any other. In those moments, all that I could ever do is endure it."

Oh, how rich. How dare this vessel of a man handle her like she be his? She felt like throwing up at the mere sight of his intense gaze. Maybe, though, she simply couldn’t handle such sheer power that shined in his eyes. Whatever the case, her head turned ungracefully away from him, her eyes closing tightly as her lips curled. His words, oh how they stung. His actions, oh how they swayed her body. If this were any other situation, surely, her legs would have given away and only he and his strength alone would have been all that supported her. However, the anger boiling inside her, the insensible anger that strengthened her body denied her the freedom of weakness kept her form taunt and empowered.

Equal! He keeps calling her his equal, when, in fact, they’ll never be the same. How could they? She can’t understand him. Sometimes she wishes she could, and other times, she’s glad she can’t. He holds within him the power of many Aspects when she can barely keep one from turning her mind upside down. How could he stand here, holding her, barely feeling anything, and dare explain to her how emotions work. She hated it. Hated it. Hated it. She hates herself. Why is she feeling what she’s feeling? He’s revealed his woes, his happiness, and his past to her, and yet, despite it all, she wants more. She hates he can’t give her more. Understanding it doesn’t help at all! Understanding everything just makes it hurt more. It’s just a festering in her soul that, everyday, grows bigger and bigger consuming her heart and mind entirely.

“Damn you, you fucking idiot!” Her hand shot out in aggravation reaching for the collar of his shirt to grab it roughly and squeeze it in her grip. “Damn it all to Hell! I’d rather feel nothing than feel everything!” Her curled lips twist with rage as her eyes open revealing the power in her own gaze; her pale sickly yellow eyes glowing ghastly as energy seeped from them. The window behind her began to twitch and groan as her energy exerted itself around her as if she prepared an attack against the world around her. However, suddenly, it all collapses around her as her fist lets him go, and silently, quietly where only the two of them could hear, her fist beats on his chest. It is like a child knocking on a door in fear of waking their parents up despite needing their attention.

“I thought I knew what you meant by love. Your love for everyone, I thought that was what I was experiencing. I thought it was the same for them as it was for you, but slowly, every time we’ve ended up like this, the scales around my heart and eyes slowly realized... I hated your love. My mind knew why it was. My mind knows why your love is so empty, but I know. I know that love is supposed to be something different. True love is supposed to hurt. Just. Like. This. Maybe, just maybe it’s because this is the first time I’ve ever felt like this about anyone, but I know I don’t want your shitty love for the world. I want Cyrus’ love. I want something that I don’t have to share with anybody, and knowing that I’ll never have that, having to accept that we’ll never connect on that level... Can’t you see!? I’m in agony too!?”

She begins twitching, shuffling; her shoulder struggling to escape his grasp. Her fists pound on his chest as her eyes shut again, wet with tears that threaten to fall. “And yet, I endure this agony, not out of necessity, but out of love. I am willing to suffer for the sake of the people throughout this world, who I have sworn to watch over and to protect." She repeats his words back to him. “I want to understand Cyrus or whoever I’m talking to. I want to, but I know I can’t, I mustn’t. So, please, if you can’t understand me, if you can’t give me the only thing I want, then stop… Let me… go…”

It was often that Cyrus was hurt by his own emotion, by his humanity screaming against the force of his divinity. But what was rare in the extreme was what he felt at this moment; the pain of an emotion in itself. He did not wish to see Helle in this state, but it was different than what he always felt. He did not want to see her happy for only her own sake.

Even knowing this would cause him pain, Cyrus braced himself internally; he had not attempted this before. It would likely not be pleasant.

"Love should never cause you agony. To have caused this for you is my failing. Perhaps my love is empty, and compared to the depth of yours, I know for certain that it cannot measure up. Even so, Helle, do you think my that my trust in you, my willingness to share everything with you, is simple respect? Do you think that I have shared with you my home, the history of my life, entrusted with you my deepest memories because you are a worthy subordinate? The divinity in me may wish that to be true, and I would certainly live in less pain if it were. But my pain is far less meaningful to me than yours is."

Focusing on his aspects, Cyrus' countenance shifted once more-- to one that Helle had, until this moment, never seen. Even through his will, his divine power, he could not fully hide the agony he was in. But this exchange would only be worthwhile if he continued it without any divine guise at all.

If he continued it simply as Cyrus.

"I say this to you with no pretense of divinity. No authority of heaven or superhuman right. Every fiber of my being denies me this moment to speak these words to you, but I will take my time to say them regardless of what holiness demands of me. I understand you, Helle. Every word that you have said to me, I have understood."

Every second was like an eternity of suffering, forcing forward his buried humanity in this way. That was acceptable. He would endure it. Cyrus released her shoulder, and for the briefest of moments, he seemed as though he might simply collapse. But he endured, and wrapped his arms tightly around the woman before him.

"You will have what you want. You already have it."

She did it. She actually did it. It took having an aspect that played on her worst qualities as a person, but she laid herself bare for him. Everything he wanted out of her, she has given: her body, her mind, her emotions, her strength, and her will. For what? Is this the end? Is this where she is forced to swallow down her heart and attempt to mend what is being shattered inside of her? His words can only do so much. He can preach how she’s worth the pain. He can say how he’s messed up. He can continue whispering sweet nothings into her ear. But, none of that matters if there are no actions to accompany his words. This isn’t something someone can just rationalize!

Huh?! Eh!? Her first froze against his chest. Kelheh Zam felt a disturbance within Cyrus. Her fellow Aspects silenced suddenly. Shockingly, the man before her suddenly felt… human. Why? Why does he do this? Her eyes couldn’t help but move to his face knowing the agony he must be experiencing coursing through his body. “Cyrus…” Her voice is but a whisper as he speaks once more. How foolish! Stupis Stupid! She wanted to hit him, knock some sense through his head. Why? Why?! Her own thoughts ran through her head. This isn’t something someone can simply rationalize. How irrational for a man like him, just for someone like her.

“No. No. Don’t be stupid Cyrus. Can’t you see what a mess I am?! I’m nothing but a little girl! I’m daft, selfish, inexperienced, demanding, pushy, and to top it all off, I’m only causing you pain. So much pain.” Her eyes could not hold it in any longer, tears raced down her cheeks as her lips contorted with dismay; her tone of anger changed to one of sadness and regret for her actions. No. Don’t hurt her? She doesn’t deserve this. She didn’t mean this. Yet, she felt her heart explode. The happiness that intertwines with her guilt is destroying her, ripping her asunder. However, she wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world because it meant one thing. He does understand.

She wished to be freed from his hug. No. She wanted him to hug her tighter. Wait. No. She just wants them to… With her mind rampant with emotional stimuli, her arms shimmied from his hold slipping upwards through the space that their tightness allowed. Soon, she wished for her hands to gingerly wrap around his cheeks caressing him, hoping it enough to soothe him but knowing it’d do nothing to combat what he’s suffering. This is her only chance though. The one time she has to connect with him, to cement a memory for herself even if it’d be lost to his duty. Her soggy eyes, a dazzling meadow of yellow and green that shone brightly in the sun’s glow that slips through the window before them, moved upwards. Her face, the weakest it has ever been continued to let those tears flow freely. Slowly, however, her eyes closed as she guided his head downwards. Please let this be more than a dream, but at the same time, please let her never wake up from this fantasy. Just a simple graze, yes. Her lips and his. If only for a second, let them be one. Allow her this chance to commit an ultimate act of true selfishness.

It occurs to Cyrus how much it displeases him to see Helle upset like this. How much he does not wish to see her cry. It is admittedly washed out by his own existential pain, but such things are, in the end, inconsequential to him. He would suffur far longer than this if it eased her anguish.

"You are many things, yes. I will not deny that, Helle. But you speak to a man who chose to condemn himself for the sake of all others in a moment of selfless drive. I am hardly so perfect myself. The pain you cause me is of my own action, and that you cause it is not something I would give away."

Cyrus understands plainly what it is that Helle wishes from him now. He is, as childish as it seems, almost nervous as she closes her eyes, as she shortens what little distance is between them. He is not a god in this moment, merely a man with far too much weight upon his shoulders. And, in this moment, that man is reminded of the fact that he simply has not ever shared this with a woman. He closes his eyes in turn, and is almost ashamed to note that his pain is lessened, simply by no longer looking upon her. But he does not stop her.

Even if for the briefest of moments, hardly some grandiose romantic gesture, Cyrus' lips met hers. And in that moment, he might well have felt the worst pain he ever had. But he did not simply endure it. He ignored it, focused only on that briefest instant where the two of them had shared such intimacy. Despite his suffering, it was eclipsed, wholly and truly, by the thought of her.