westwhere | the promised distraction.

Entry tags:

the promised distraction.

WHO: Archeval, Eleven
WHEN: May 24th, shortly after Lan Wangji's announcement.
WHERE: Around the farm.
WHAT: He promised he'd try to keep certain people out of the way of the cleanup, and he knows where to find exactly one of them, so...
WARNINGS: Frank discussion of death, maybe. Arche being an asshole, probably.

The farmland they're staying on is a fairly expansive place, but if Archeval opens his senses to the brush of minds around him for a little while, he's more than familiar enough with Eleven's to zero in on the one presence who's consistently been somewhere nearby since day one of this whole ordeal. He turns his attention away from the quartz for now as he heads over to find where El has gotten off to, closing in quietly to simply watch for a little while, not quite sure what he should even say. Something... something comforting? He feels like normal people would probably say something comforting. But death simply is what it is, one of the normal facts of living. He's been giving it the finger for twenty-three years, but many beings of his acquaintance haven't been so lucky. He's seen far too much of it for the idea to shock anymore. People die. Sometimes gruesomely.

...still, someone like Eleven should be spared the sights, though, if someone like Archeval can help it at all. It doesn't make the galaxy any better a place to spread around this particular misery.

He finds a spot to lean on and cross his arms over his chest as he looks on softly.

"...I'd like to ask a favor, if you're amenable," he says at last.

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The budding life does serve to soften his heart by degrees, even as it twists a little, reminded of how very precious and infinitely fragile that life truly is. To think Wangji could accuse a Child of Yggdrasil of--

Eleven breathes, turning his focus to the out-of-place Sith Lord poking around both curious and awkward.

"..Well," he says at length, stepping closer. "First, you need to know what is you're planting and the conditions under which it will thrive. We don't have much control over the conditions, and they're pretty poor as far as a planting season goes, so we're rather limited, here."

Archeval probably does look a little funny, poking around through the garden supplies. No one among their number has exactly had a lot of fashion choices since coming here, but Arche apparently considers himself to have an aesthetic to keep up as he continually dresses in all black whenever he can manage -- right now he's in some plain pants and tunic and winter cloak that he must have brought up from Sa-Hareth, all of it black, and his own dark boots and gloves that Eleven will recognize as part of his battle robes from home. He cuts a rather comically out-of-place figure in the dramatic outfit, picking up sachets of seeds and little spades and the like to experimentally squint at. Though he's out here mainly for Eleven's sake right at this moment, he doesn't have to feign his interest in the subject; and on top of that the medieval-looking equipment is certainly a matter of historical fascination as well.

"Yes, I seem to remember hearing there's only a few things in the garden?" Arche hmms, glancing over Eleven's way with subdued curiosity. "But that there's... what is it called, thralling?... over the area to encourage growth despite the weather?... Not unlike the sort of technology that would be used back home, I imagine, though I don't know much about that either. Did you have any such thing in your home village?..."

He'll continue to come up with small talk and shop-talk along those lines for as long as Eleven will indulge him, trying to do his best to provide something else to think about. There's nothing else to be done to save those miners now, after all. Dead is dead. If their spirits have passed into oneness with the Force, or whatever it is that actually happens to dead souls here, then the only people left to attend to are the living.

Eleven answers his questions in the subdued, distracted tones of someone whose mind is elsewhere, and fails to offer much in way of practical demonstration. But he can talk at length about the growing plants themselves, and so it isn't long before they're settled at the garden's edge, Eleven's fingertips infinitely gentle as they brush under small, budding leaves.

"Animals know when you love them," he finds himself saying, "They're happier, more willing to cooperate, and often produce more. It's the same for plants, I think. They take a lot of time and attention to protect and cultivate, but they flourish under the right care."

He pauses over a frown and withdraws his hand into his lap. "..They're really not all that much different from humans in that way."

"I suppose that only makes sense," Arche muses, seated in the tundra grass alongside him. It's cold again today, of course, as it is every day, but here right next to the garden is still a little more comfortable than most anywhere else outside.

He doesn't touch the plants himself, not without being directed, but his contemplative gaze follows the direction of Eleven's own as El examines the plants.

"...I've played veterinarian to an animal or two in my time, using the Force," Arche goes on softly, in the manner of thinking aloud.

"Certainly it seems most respond better to quiet and gentleness, showing them you are not a threat. ...and when you put it like that I suppose sentients are very much the same. I've never had quite so much success with plants... on the rare occasions I've been around many, I was usually draining the life from them to transfer into someone in an emergency. Makes me a bit tense to be around ones that must be treated carefully, but. Of course one doesn't learn without practice."

He glances over at Eleven's face again for a moment, before leaning back against his hands in the cold grass.

"I put down a tuk'ata once when I was an apprentice," he goes on quietly.

"They're about of a height with the... I think they call them cows, here?... Nasty beasts, just as soon eat you as look at you. But this one was far out in the Korriban desert, already half dead. I didn't know any healing yet then, didn't have anything else I could do for it. Didn't want to just leave it for the other predators to take chunks out of while it was still alive."

He gives a little sigh as he stares out across the garden rows for a moment, then sits back up again, pulling over the little bag of seeds they've brought to idly count through them.

"I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone."

Stealing life from plants in order to heal- it's an unusual concept he'd hesitate to employ himself if it was within his power, but he understands the sentiment behind it. Plants can be resown; human lives are irreplaceable.

"No," he agrees, swallowing. His shoulders lax, and he takes a few moments to watch Archeval prod through seeds just waiting for their time to be nurtured to life. Then he lifts his gaze to the man's eyes.

"..Why do you want to learn gardening?"

Arche gives a shrug.

"I like giving life better than taking it," he says simply after a moment.

"...always thought it would've been nice, when I was a boy. We didn't have the supplies or the space. But rations weren't much there. Would've saved me a lot of trouble, growing some food of our own."

He scoops a couple of seeds out of the bag, rolling them over in his hand a little.

"So. Do you do anything special, when starting a new one for the first time?"

His voice is still a little hushed.

Eleven gives him a long, measured look, and hopes that's the truth. Archeval was plenty wealthy in his own world now that he didn't need to learn to survive anymore, but he supposes even castles have gardens.

He breathes a soft sigh. "It depends on the plant, but.. generally, there are a few steps. Weeding, removing rocks or other debris, tilling and fertilizing.."

He waves a hand; most of that has been done already with this garden.

"Then you can plant it. Then of course, it needs to be watered often and kept free of pests or animals that might try to dig it up once it sprouts, the area kept free of weeds that might strangle it, and fertilized every so often."

Eleven has no way of knowing whether Archeval is telling the truth, of course, but he seems sincere enough. When he hasn't wanted to talk about something in the past, it seems as though blatantly changing the subject or refusing has been his main deflection. Though none of this today is really about Arche, of course -- and surely El knows that too.

But, genuinely, all apart from trying to be El's distraction. It would've been nice. Archeval has no idea where they would've done such a thing, of course. But in some hypothetical world where there was space to spare. Maybe they would've even had some fun with it, himself and Erel, watching the little sprouts grow up out of the ground over months and slowly get taller. He would've liked to have more nice things to give her.

But even Eleven doesn't get to hear that. Those are thoughts that will remain inside his heart of hearts, locked away in the distant past where they belong.

It's not about him anyway. Whatever happened to Erel, she's gone now, just like those miners. No, this is very much about making sure Eleven isn't left alone to go hie himself off and spend hours sticking his hands into blood puddles, dwelling on things that can't be changed or fixed.

(It's still strange to agree on something with Lan Wangji for once.)

"Check for pests... Check for weeds... Fertilize..." Arche nods along as he repeats the words softly, trying to memorize the gist of the advice since he's gone so far as to ask and El's gone to the trouble of providing it. He leans over some of the planted soil looking for a bare patch, one gloved finger starting to work a hole down into some of the loose earth on top.

"So does it matter how far down you go? And I imagine it shouldn't be too close to the others...?"

Eleven watches him dig with a critical eye.

"Yes, it matters. If you bury it too deep, it won't sprout properly. Too shallow and the roots might not anchor it well. A good rule of thumb is about twice as deep as a seed is wide."

He doesn't know why he's so nervous, just watching. That Archeval expressed a desire to give life over taking it is plenty enough reason to learn, and tells him far more than he'd ever dare to ask. There isn't any reason the man can't handle pressing a seed into the earth.

It still doesn't prove anything about his intentions for dragging El out here right now, of course, but Arche does seem to be intently trying to follow directions. He gives the couple seeds in his hand a careful inspection before finishing his little hole, adjusting the depth a bit as he glances back and forth, then dropping them on in. He scrapes earth back over them with a little pat and his silent well wishes, feeling a bit self-conscious for a moment as he notes El's gaze on him and feels a touch of the other's nerves. But he dragged Eleven all the way out here, he certainly can't quit now. He reaches over for the watering can they've brought with them, its battered metal frigid to the touch even through his gloves.

"Ah... tell me before I've used too much, I suppose...?"

He barely did anything, of course, but he feels an odd, shy sense of accomplishment as he wets the soil. It will certainly be something to come back to this later. And whatever else Eleven might have on his mind, he's here and participating right now, so...that's something too.

Eleven peers at the slightly darkened patch.

"It looks okay. You just want to make sure to water it whenever the dirt feels dry."

He stares at it a moment longer, then huffs a look up at Archeval. "I'll help if you need it, but I'm going to let Vanya know this is your patch to take care of and learn from."

Is it his imagination, or has Eleven started to genuinely relax a little more...? Arche glances over to give him a familiar dry look, privately glad for that to hopefully be the case.

"Earned myself a new responsibility, have I...? Well, that's only fair. I'll try not to touch any of the rest of these just in case. But if this is my bit now then I guess I may as well do a couple more."

And he will pull over the little bag of seeds to do exactly that, making some more shallow holes and dropping in seeds.

"Vanya, hm? Have you two been the main caretakers around here...?"

It seems a little ambitious to try for more than one cluster. When his Mum had told him in no uncertain terms that he would be responsible for the first seed he planted under her guidance, he'd panicked and watched over it obsessively. ..Granted, he had been a child, then.

The more they could grow here, the better.

He meets Archeval's eyes for the moment he glances over, then nods with a partial shrug. "I haven't heard from anyone else with experience in farmwork, but I see a few others stop by once in awhile.."

'Ambitious' might be Darth Imperius's middle name, considering his career up to this moment; it doesn't even occur to him to stop at only one.

"Well, we're probably lucky to even have two," Archeval sighs, setting the can down as he finishes watering his last spot.

"Considering the warlord was quite selective in his choice of kidnappees, it seems. I suppose the rest of us would just be stuck muddling around in the dark with this if the pair of you weren't here. Though I don't think I've met a Vanya yet." He's a little surprised that their number is large enough now for him not to have run into everyone at least once. And here he thought he'd made a decent catalog after the raid on the slave ship.

He brushes off his gloves a little as he sits back in the grass. Those black clothes have acquired a couple of dirt stains by now.

"You'd make a fair teacher, I think. From one to another."

Eleven shook his head.

"I haven't shown you much, or explained anything in detail." He'd glossed over a lot of information with short, bare instruction and overused the phrase 'it depends'. "You just have low standards."

But he doesn't feel up to much more. Eleven pillows his head on his arms and gives Archeval a side-long glance.

"I know you've just been trying to make me feel better with all this."

"Trying to--... I suppose," Arche sighs, giving a grimace of discomfort.

"Thought I was clear enough when I came to find you earlier. I could've asked you this on any day, but I picked today and told you exactly why, now didn't I?" Arche gives him a dry look. It itches a bit to hear it described in such weirdly altrustic terms, but that is essentially what he's doing really, so. Probably no point starting an argument about it, when that might only end up highlighting that he's partly out here because of Wangji too.

Maybe some other day.

"And in that case, then congratulations on exceeding my fantastically low teaching standards, I suppose," he drawls out, reaching over to start gathering up some of the supplies he carried out here.

"But either way... and more importantly. I do see what you mean, about this place. Being surrounded by nothing but tundra and half-dead trees gets a little wearying."

Archeval's bare protest in response to the accusation that he might be doing something selflessly is both surprising and not. A sentiment that starts, then tapers off into a form of admission. That the man would go so far out of his way as to take on weeks worth of responsibility for a handful of plants..

Eleven hums shortly, looking back out at the garden and the vegetables in varying stages of growth. In the quietest of moments, he likes to imagine he can feel them growing.

"We couldn't not try," he says, arguing against an absent judgement as his fingers curl into his sleeves. "Even if it was always going to end like this, or like that half-dead animal in the desert, life is precious. If there's a chance.. and if there isn't. Otherwise, I may as well give up in my world, too."

Edited 2021-05-25 01:28 (UTC)

"Nothing wrong with trying," Arche agrees quietly.

"They had the right to choose their own end, and they did. But that doesn't make it meaningless -- what you did for them. What the other two did for them either, offering them that. Their last days were far kinder than they might have been. That's not nothing."

He thinks about that for several moments in relation to the wretched uselessness dragging at him, berating him for this latest failure. But.. maybe he had helped, at least a little. Some kindness, rather than none at the end of their lives, even if they hadn't appreciated it. Even if he'd failed them, in the end.

"I'll keep trying," he decides with quiet conviction, then pushes himself to his feet. "Someday, I want my title to mean something. In the meantime, there might be at least one more thing I can do for them."

Gathering the planting things into his arms, Arche follows El back up to his feet, casting the other young man a quiet glance again.

"Your title. Luminary, yes?... Someone who brings light to dark places."

For a moment, standing there as a black stain against the gray tundra grass with cloak tossed about in the cold breeze, the Dark Lord stares over very solemnly indeed.

"Not everything is yours to fix, hero," he says quietly.

"But you do plenty of illuminating already."

He stands there for another second in silence before turning away at last, taking a step back toward where they picked up those supplies so he can put all this away.

"...So. What is your plan now?"

Hopefully he's not about to have to scramble to come up with a second distraction.

Someone who brings light to dark places.

Eleven reaches for the journal tucked into his pouch and taps into the rose quartz network to write a quick question of Alina while Archeval is occupied, then breaks the connection to respond.

"If we bury them, the wolves will probably dig them up. I can help burn them, and offer prayers for their passing."

A proper ceremony would have a real priest and their families present, but this is what they can do now.

"I suppose that's sensible," Arche sighs.

He'd just as happily keep Eleven away from whatever mess has been made of the corpses as well, but a hero of light has probably seen a few dead bodies in his time, and it sounds like El is probably already fairly set on this path anyhow. Perhaps taking some kind of action will help him sleep better. Far be it from Archeval to tell anybody not to do precisely what they can live with, no more and no less.

But hopefully those bodies have been bundled up away from the mess by now. Or maybe Lan Wangji, the man who apparently can't be bothered to lift a finger for menial labor, has managed to get it cleaned up. Stranger things have happened.

"Well, I will do my best to absorb the lesson," he murmurs a little dryly as he walks over to tuck the supplies away.

"And I won't shirk my duty, since you've gone to the trouble. Suppose that means I'll see you here bright and early tomorrow."

Perhaps this world isn't his to fix, but he'll rest easier knowing he's done everything he could for them, even in death.

Idly, he wonders what it is Archeval thinks he's illuminated, and resolves to ask some time.

"I do feel a little better," he assures the man, in case there is room for doubt. Though there isn't any telling how he'll feel after the ceremony, or if he crosses paths with Lan Wangji. "More clear-minded, at least."

The Luminary isn't the only one able to lift people out of dark places- just as well, as his own light wavers more often than not.

"I look forward to seeing your seedlings come along."

It surprises him a little to receive the reassurance, as though Eleven is concerned that he might actually need it. But then he's certainly revealed far more of himself to this particular sentient than is really wise, so perhaps Arche will have to stop being so surprised when Eleven treats him... hm, just about the same as Eleven would treat most people, probably.

It's a bad habit he indulges too often, willy-nilly getting close like this. Probably going to get him knifed in the back someday. He really has gone inexcusably soft since first being handed the Council seat. But... it's certainly made surviving in this place more bearable, even if some days are like this.

That's not nothing, either.

"Well, if they turn up black and withered one day, please know that I still tried," he says with another bone-dry glance. He's hardly El's babysitter, so he's not going to patronize him so far as to follow him around the whole farm, but as the other turns to leave Arche will walk with him to the edge of the garden to watch him go.

"But I will do my best."

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the promised distraction.

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