Ardyn's slumber as he recovers is not a peaceful one. He's still at first, the deep sleep of one who's exhausted his strength, but starts to toss and turn as all the things hidden in his mind come crawling back. It's been a long time since he slept anyway, actually slept - the Scourge eliminated any real need for rest along with his mortality. But here with the disease dormant, he lacks its protection, forced to reckon with the burden of all those years and all the things he's done. Though he does not feel regret for his deeds nor pity for his victims, it's still... unpleasant to have the mire of his mind dredge up those shadows. Annoying is a better word. There is barely anything in the world that does not annoy him, that does not make him exhausted.
There is another nagging feeling, too, remembrance of... a fight, yes... old memories. Things he wants to bury. Anger, confusion, the feeling of betrayal, helplessness... The last time he felt like this was when he woke up in Besithia's laboratory. In the fog of his troubled sleep he wonders desperately if he is not about to open his eyes there again. What a twisted - and yet fitting, predictable - joke it would be if he were forced by Bahamut to relive his miserable existence again and again. Playing his "role" with no end in sight, no end at all...
But when he does finally open his eyes the room that greets him is as spartan as they come. His "quarters" at the laboratory were rather more cluttered, as are his own lodgings in Avalon. Where could he be, then?
With a groan Ardyn tries to lift his head, focus on the surroundings - and it's perhaps amazing how quickly his gaze does focus once he realizes that Somnus is here, his face immediately twisting in anger and distaste. He tries to push himself up on his elbow as well, shoulders hunched defensively, his manner once again reminiscent of a cornered beast.
Somnus makes neither move to support Ardyn as he wakes nor suggestion to be at ease. Both actions would be taken as insults, and Somnus knows that his words have little merit to the other. Hence, the action in this: the use of a rare healing potion on him, as well as the first aide he had given.
Unfortunately, even his action has been taken in bad faith. A mockery, he comments, and the mistrust is deserved. To heal him, and expect (or hope for) anything different, would be to spit at his feet for two thousand years of having tortured him. Nevertheless, Somnus raises a hand palm upward as if to call for pause, then lets it lower.
That moment of confusion and defensiveness passes as Ardyn gets a hold of himself. His expression goes blank as he shuts down his reaction (he does not need to be any more vulnerable in front of his brother)... and then switches to his usual carefree, somewhat mocking smirk. His stance relaxes too, although with how quick the change is it can't be genuine. Ardyn sits up more, unhurried this time, leaning against the back of the sofa. His eyes flicker momentarily to the swords on the table - good, at least he isn't entirely defenseless if need be, - and then he looks up at his brother again.
"Ah. Playing at being a hero, little Somnus? Strong, kind, magnanimous - even to those who've wronged him?"
As usual, there's a touch of jeering to his tone, this time perhaps more obvious than normal.
Somnus' focus momentarily lowers to the weapons upon the table, as if he had expected Ardyn to immediately go for his blade. That he did not is a start. The weapons are there, untouched before the both of them, as both an offer and sign. He elevates his gaze.
Arynd's posture appears to have been corrected. Now he lounges as if he had never been hurt, his drawl, accented with a sneer, as casual as ever. Somnus doesn't flinch at the mockery, but he does appear tired, as if he expects it.
He cannot defend himself. Instead, he continues to his point:
Though he keeps up his relaxed front, there's a slight narrowing of Ardyn's eyes. Respite? What would his brother know about wanting respite, cooped up happily in his kingdom, watching his descendants prosper while Ardyn himself had to endure torture, being experimented on, descending into his madness?
(Somewhere deep, deep inside, disconnected and logical, he knows that Somnus did not have such an easy existence, either. But admitting it, even thinking about it would be to insult his own suffering. Never. Never, never, never.)
"Is that so? And would you be so kind as to remind me what the goal of this world is? What awaits us beyond it?"
At Ardyn's question, Somnus falls into a brief, pensive silence. What happens to this world, if Camelot is to be believed, is that their presence will save it, thus saving their own. And when they return...
Their Line will at last come to an end, the Star will see Light, the Endless Night, over, and...
His words come out slowly, solemnly. "You will find repose." A true end to his curse of immortality-- both of theirs-- of which even Camelot does not seem to have the power to grant. Yet, they remain away from the fetters of fate and the dominance of the Bladekeeper, placing them in a very precarious, and unprecedented, situation.
Somnus continues to speak. "However, here... you may do as you will."
There is tea upon the table, there are blades; unlike in their world, there is a choice. Somnus acknowledges Ardyn may pick up either.
He does not answer for a little while, letting the silence hang heavy and tense. Then Ardyn swings his legs off the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward slightly to fix Somnus with a strange look. Right now he does not even glance at the table, though it is hard to say whether he is refusing to choose or simply has something else on his mind.
Somnus holds Ardyn's gaze, steady and unflinching. He had meant his words for all of what they imply. Whether peace or destruction, vengeance or otherwise-- in this world, Ardyn may choose it himself without the fetter of fate.
Neither of them may have their end, but freedom of their fates is both terrifying and a grace. If Ardyn may have some sort of respite-- if it is possible for him to have it-- Somnus would want to see him obtain it.
Again, Ardyn doesn't answer the actual question, keeping his eyes on Somnus. It is an alien notion now, in more ways than one - even if not controlled by fate, it has been... far too long now for him to remember, truly remember who Ardyn Lucis Caelum was. Adagium, the Usurper, Starscourge incarnate, the Accursed - so many "titles", so many names that have long since buried Somnus's brother. He is given a personal choice - but who is doing the choosing, at this point? Deep down Ardyn knows that he is no longer a person, not after devouring so many other souls, bringing forth so many daemons. The names have eroded who he was, leaving only the role he's meant to play.
... Of course, none of those thoughts are ones he would ever voice, most of all to Somnus. Pushing them aside, he gives the other man another smirk, voice maliciously amicable.
"And you would not wish to stop me, were I to do 'as I will'? I yearn to destroy one world already, after all. Are you so magnanimous as to believe I would refrain from doing the same to this one?"
"Do as you will," he repeats, his tone even. "Others will do the same."
Ardyn is a smart man. He knows that freedom comes with nuance and consequences, if infringed upon others. What he's saying now is only to test Somnus. rdyn bringing ruin to another land isn't out of the question, as he is more than capable of making good on that threat. Even so...
Ah, so his brother counts on Ardyn being stopped by other do-gooders. But while there are quite a few of them, this land has many who wish for destruction as well. Not that it is even hard to make people, any people, fight among themselves. Whenever there is difference, whenever there is inequality, there is chance for discord. After all, was that not why Somnus betrayed him in the first place?
It would be wrong to say that his brother's question is unexpected. Ardyn still remembers their encounter during that stupid stunt with writing one's feelings to meet someone else; he remembers the fact that they both wrote the same thing. Of course Somnus would try to insist on knowing what Ardyn thinks or feels.
... And he does yearn for an end. For rest. For freedom from his curse and his "fate". But all of those things... they will be of his own making. Not granted out of pity, whether in this world or on Eos. Or is he supposed to feel grateful for this "respite", this brief break before they have to return?
Ardyn rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly, looking up at his brother.
"The only regret I have," he replies quietly, "is that while you are here I cannot consign you to the same oblivion as the rest of our world. What I want is for none of them to ever have a tomorrow. I want them - and you - to know it and suffer it. Without end."
His voice is all the more threatening for how quiet and restrained it is, underlining the sincerity of his desire for vengeance. Now that he knows of existence of other worlds it is not destruction he wishes for Eos, but an endless, hopeless limbo of despair. After that... perhaps he could go somewhere. Find his own end by his own hands, no longer beholden to anyone.
His shoulders rise then fall with a silent exhale as his expression settles. Perhaps, he shouldn't have hoped for a different response. Perhaps this is how it should be: so long as hate for Somnus fuels him, the Draconian's prophecy will be fulfilled. As one who is also beholden to the Bladekeeper, even suggesting respite can be considered blasphemy, after all.
Somnus should have known better. This is to be it, that even beyond the yoke of their Star, Ardyn's cursed fate follows him here. Stagnation is all they are due, and hope for better is a curse.
What comfort either may have is an end, and none of it, Ardyn's fault. So he answers, his tone reserved and weary.
And that seems to be enough to go through Ardyn's defenses. He clenches his fists until his knuckles are white.
"You are sorry?"
The fire of fury is back in his eyes and his breath comes shorter as Ardyn tries to keep some measure of control. With the Scourge dormant, it is perhaps just a little bit easier than it would be back home.
"Where was that sorrow two thousand years ago? Where was that sorrow when you conspired with that woman? Where was that sorrow when you took everything from me?! Where was it when you wrote me out of history?! Imprisoned me, tortured me, let your spawn do the same!"
Though his words start quiet, Ardyn's voice quickly rises until he's shouting, the anger drowning him. He rises to his feet, grabbing his sword off the table, immediately pointing it at Somnus. It's perhaps the only mercy that he does not instantly go for a swing.
"You," he spits, "are not sorry. You never have been. You never will be. Traitor. Murderer."
Hoping for change but curbing expectation seems to be the best way to protect from disappointment. Once Ardyn points his blade at Somnus, he stands, using his kinetic magic to allow his blade to hover beside him, poised. While he can apologize, he will not make a martyr out of himself.
The labels are deserved, and he makes no effort to counter them. Somnus looks along the path of the blade to meet Ardyn's eyes.
He is. He is very tired. A part of him does only wish for things to finally end. But if his brother thinks that the exhaustion will make him give up, concede his defeat... No. Never. He will be free. He will be.
Again there is a strangeness to Ardyn's expression, as though he has to reprogram his features... and then he smirks again, the previous rage seemingly banked.
"No. You should have tried the Scourge for yourself, Somnus. Two thousand years of it. You would find it is quite... invigorating."
... After all, what else was left for Ardyn? What else was he supposed to hold on to to keep even some shreds of sanity, enough to play along with Bahamut's plan instead of letting himself be completely devoured by fury and despair, becoming a mindless lord of daemons? In its way the Scourge is both his blessing and his curse, a poison that keeps him alive.
In the final years of the Endless Night, Somnus had been blighted by the Scourge and made to wait to fight the Chosen King. In the pit of that darkness, there was some shreds of his soul remaining, some knowledge of who he was, of what his principles were. But, again: the amount of time he had spent cursed is nothing compared to the millennia Ardyn had endured-- and still endures.
Still, he wonders, just how much does the Scourge control him, how much remains of his brother? In choosing vengeance, he chooses despair sustained by immortality and harms himself further. That is part of the curse. Perhaps he has not recalled that he's already won, by the Bladekeeper's prophecy, at that. Ardyn's revenge upon Lucis, the royal line, and the world, is fulfilled.
Somnus' head tilts, and he eyes the tip of the blade pointed at him, frowning.
"The gods chose you to house the Scourge... but you did not deserve to be their chosen."
This time there's genuine shock on Ardyn's features. It's the first time he's ever heard his brother admit any fault to the gods' plans. Before, he'd talked of the necessity of it, offered his own apologies - selfish, in Ardyn's eyes, pleas for absolution as though Ardyn owed it to him. The closest he's ever heard Somnus come to admitting Ardyn did not deserve this fate was saying that his brother needs to be freed, or granted peace. But he'd never acknowledged the slight against him as such.
Befuddled and still angry, Ardyn does not have an answer to that, only managing to grip his sword tighter, breath hissing between his teeth as his eyes search Somnus's face for confirmation that this is some kind of trick, a lie, a threat, gloating - anything.
Somnus holds against Ardyn's glare, remaining ready to counter a strike. Even when it doesn't come, the tension remains as taught as a industrial spool of steel. Then, slowly, it eases, as does Somnus' own magical lift on his sword. As if cranked slowly down from a pully, the Blade of the Mystic rests lower-- and less ready to defend-- than moments ago.
For all of his formative years, he had been the envious brother, watching as the other had flawlessly succeeded in capturing the people's attention because he was blessed, because he wielded miracles, because he was able to lift a deadly curse. There was no doubt in anyone's eyes, even the younger brother's, that the elder was touched by the gods. Little did they know it came with a price. The revelation had been thus: that Ardyn's power was no cure, but his brother taking all the Scourge onto himself, taxing and corrupting.
Envy had blinded Somnus in his youth. But... no more.
Had the gods only asked Ardyn to be the vessel for this corrupting Scourge, undoubtedly he would have obliged and sat content for millennia until it was time for the True King to ascend. Ardyn was good in that manner, and would have done all for the world, including sacrificing himself. They are alike in this way; Somnus does all and anything for the world as well, including sanctioning the sacrifice of himself and his entire family for it; however, that does not make him good. That much is obvious, and the gap between them, or rather, him and the sheer goodness of who Ardyn used to be, remains staggering to this day. He could never compare; and it is this that makes him know for certain that Ardyn did not deserve the fate he had been dealt.
"You were good, brother. You did not deserve it... your suffering. From the Star's blight, or of my own hand," he repeats. Although his voice is lower, his gaze remains raised and certain, his tone earnest. "Would that you will not suffer upon this isle, either."
But if the Scourge, even dormant, has truly taken him over, then it will be a long, uphill, and arduous battle for peace.
The words obviously have an effect on Ardyn. His hand trembles further as he tries to grip the sword more, losing his cool, breath coming faster and faster until--
"Liar!!"
His sword bites into the table between them, slashing right through it - even with the magic taken away, his and Somnus's blades both are to be reckoned with. But Ardyn himself is shaking with fury - for reasons even he does not fully understand. All that he knows is that this, this compassion from Somnus, these words are something he can't tolerate. They can't be true. They can't. If they were, if they had ever been...
"For two thousand years you've done nothing! For two thousand years you've left me to my fate! Who was it that freed me from my containment, 'brother'? Was it you? Was it one of your spawn? Or were they sent to imprison the Adagium again?" He snarls, eyes fixed on Somnus in pure fury. "Or was it the Empire, seeking a new weapon to use? Answer me!"
There is no denying that the one responsible for his own brother's imprisonment had been Somnus. After his death, while some records were kept of the lost Lucis Caelum, not one sought to release the one called 'Adagium'. No one could decipher the mechanisms of the Scourge, only that its main source was imprisoned and kept from the rest of the world. No one in Lucis sought to change that ignorance, whether out of fear or some divine intervention of pursuing it.
Even though as all of those years passed, it became increasingly obvious that the imprisoned man still suffered in shadows, all while Lucis thrived.
"For two thousand years.... I had done nothing." He concedes to it, for there is nothing else with which to defend. Each word feels like gravel tossing in his throat. What excuse is being within the purgatory of the Ring, underneath the overwhelming God of War and the oppressive power of the Crystal? Somnus is powerless, weak, and for that weakness, he did nothing. Weakness is not an defense Ardyn would accept.
He lifts his head, watching Ardyn solemnly.
"To do nothing still, all while I see you continue to suffer... This, I will not accept."
It is too defeatist when there is opportunity to do better beyond the yoke of the Bladekeeper. More than all, Somnus wants better for his brother in this realm.
Once again the words, the sentiment is so... unthinkable that Ardyn feels certain that he simply misheard something. That this is not real, just another illusion of Bahamut's, much the same as when the Bladekeeper summoned Aera's image to torture him. There would be no way Somnus, the real Somnus, would ever try to show him any compassion.
Yes, that is it, a part of his mind whispers, the part that strives to repair his mental defenses as quick as possible. That's it; a trick, a trap. He hates you. He's always hated you. Don't believe him. Don't believe anyone.
That's what his life had become ever since he was freed by the Empire. Even in his prison Ardyn hadn't yet come to loathe all; he was merely deathly tired, tired of the world, of his own existence. But with Besithia's "help" and the Infernian's revelation bestowed onto him the last shreds of hope had left Ardyn. There was no one left in the world whom he cared for and who cared for him in turn, no one to trust, no one to walk with him but the Scourge...
From a gift it had gone on to become a curse, and from a curse to become a comfort of sorts. The only thing that was still under his command, the only piece of control in his existence. Suddenly he feels its absence all too keenly; his mind yearns for the familiar mire of the Scourge, for the surety of knowing that he need only lift a hand to render any person, any creature before him into a pawn of his own. And in some strange, twisted way he'd come to care for the daemons he created, too; though merely tools, they were still his, his creations, in a sense his children...
Confusion, bitter vulnerability, some animal panic and anger all fuse into one big snake's nest of emotion. Ardyn half-shrinks back, hunching his shoulders, this time thrusting his blade into the floor as some kind of outlet.
"I am not suffering," he snarls, still shaking. "I don't need your pity!"
Very few acknowledge that the one who trespasses may have their own daemons with which to contend, and in this case, it is literal. Ardyn is not blameless, but that doesn't mean he is not hurting. If the Scourge still allows its vessel to feel agony and despair, then it is not a power overwhelming so much so that the victim's self is completely blotted out. As Somnus sees it, Ardyn is suffering despite his denial, as obvious as dream made reality. He's seen that suffering in how Ardyn reacted to encountering the vision of Aera on the isle. He's seen it in how the chains burst from the ground and injured him, trapping him and bleeding him alive. He's seen it in how every time they meet, Ardyn greets him with nothing but contempt. Fury and despair fuel him stronger than the Ifernian's wrath. Away from the Draconian, it does not have to be this way.
"...Enough, brother," he replies, solemn. "Has it not been enough for you, that you do not see it?"
Somnus did nothing for so long, and now that he wants to, it is almost too little, too late, with each encounter taken in bad faith. He never acts out of pity.
But, for now, perhaps this is all they may do: if Ardyn does not wish for what he interprets as pity, perhaps now is not the time. Perhaps Ardyn is not ready-- and he needn't ever be, for all of what Somnus has committed against him. Perhaps the lingering effects of the Scourge still have too much hold over him.
In truth, Ardyn fully knows it. He knows that he is in pain and despair - how could it be otherwise, after all that he's endured? But as his life became nothing but suffering, the only way for him to survive was to embrace it, and then ignore it. As the eye adjusts to darkness, so did he adjust to the darkness within him and the fate without. And the price of it was to give up hope that things could ever be otherwise; after all, there were none that would take his side or even care about him. All there was was Bahamut's orders and punishment for stepping out of line. Without his hatred, his pain, his anger Ardyn would have long since fully lost himself to the Scourge, and even in this place he holds onto those feelings as his only way to stay alive.
Somnus's words elicit another wave of fury within him - but Ardyn has had a little time to think now, and the raw, almost animal anger becomes his usual steely disdain. Again the sudden change is reflected on his face: snarling one moment, smirking humorlessly the next. He lowers his sword, tipping his head to give Somnus a condescending look.
"And what if it has not been enough for me, hmm? Will you seek to rectify that?"
Across the low table, he watches Ardyn's expression as it shifts to contain his fury. Somnus watches this, then replies in a measured voice, stating simply:
"You have won."
The endless night, the corruption of three kings of yore through the scourge, and the end of Lucis has all been realized by Ardyn's own hands. Even the end of the royal line, Somnus' own, is just within his reach, and there is nothing to stop this. Ardyn's vengeance is sanctified by the gods themselves. But of course even that would not be enough. Unfortunately, the gods' promise to an end of their immortality cannot be obtained while in Avalon. They are bound to be bleed eternally.
"If your victory is not enough... then the end you seek is not here. For neither of us."
Ardyn narrows his eyes. Victory? He briefly wonders if that is truly what Somnus sees Ardyn's "achievements" as. And ultimately, they both know...
"But I have not won yet, brother. You and I both know that I never will as long as your precious master still exists. Or did you think me so narrow-minded that it is only you and your spawn that I want to see wiped off the face of Eos?"
Some part of his mind tells Ardyn that maybe he should hold his tongue - if (when?) they both return, Somnus knowing of Ardyn's aspirations to destroy Bahamut himself could throw a wrench into the plans. But he can't quite resist the temptation to declare his independence of the "divine" plan, even if in the end it might deprive Ardyn of his own rest.
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There is another nagging feeling, too, remembrance of... a fight, yes... old memories. Things he wants to bury. Anger, confusion, the feeling of betrayal, helplessness... The last time he felt like this was when he woke up in Besithia's laboratory. In the fog of his troubled sleep he wonders desperately if he is not about to open his eyes there again. What a twisted - and yet fitting, predictable - joke it would be if he were forced by Bahamut to relive his miserable existence again and again. Playing his "role" with no end in sight, no end at all...
But when he does finally open his eyes the room that greets him is as spartan as they come. His "quarters" at the laboratory were rather more cluttered, as are his own lodgings in Avalon. Where could he be, then?
With a groan Ardyn tries to lift his head, focus on the surroundings - and it's perhaps amazing how quickly his gaze does focus once he realizes that Somnus is here, his face immediately twisting in anger and distaste. He tries to push himself up on his elbow as well, shoulders hunched defensively, his manner once again reminiscent of a cornered beast.
"What mockery is this?"
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Unfortunately, even his action has been taken in bad faith. A mockery, he comments, and the mistrust is deserved. To heal him, and expect (or hope for) anything different, would be to spit at his feet for two thousand years of having tortured him. Nevertheless, Somnus raises a hand palm upward as if to call for pause, then lets it lower.
"You are healed."
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"Ah. Playing at being a hero, little Somnus? Strong, kind, magnanimous - even to those who've wronged him?"
As usual, there's a touch of jeering to his tone, this time perhaps more obvious than normal.
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Arynd's posture appears to have been corrected. Now he lounges as if he had never been hurt, his drawl, accented with a sneer, as casual as ever. Somnus doesn't flinch at the mockery, but he does appear tired, as if he expects it.
He cannot defend himself. Instead, he continues to his point:
"There is respite, in this world."
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(Somewhere deep, deep inside, disconnected and logical, he knows that Somnus did not have such an easy existence, either. But admitting it, even thinking about it would be to insult his own suffering. Never. Never, never, never.)
"Is that so? And would you be so kind as to remind me what the goal of this world is? What awaits us beyond it?"
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Their Line will at last come to an end, the Star will see Light, the Endless Night, over, and...
His words come out slowly, solemnly. "You will find repose." A true end to his curse of immortality-- both of theirs-- of which even Camelot does not seem to have the power to grant. Yet, they remain away from the fetters of fate and the dominance of the Bladekeeper, placing them in a very precarious, and unprecedented, situation.
Somnus continues to speak. "However, here... you may do as you will."
There is tea upon the table, there are blades; unlike in their world, there is a choice. Somnus acknowledges Ardyn may pick up either.
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"As I will, Somnus?"
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Neither of them may have their end, but freedom of their fates is both terrifying and a grace. If Ardyn may have some sort of respite-- if it is possible for him to have it-- Somnus would want to see him obtain it.
"Is the notion too alien?"
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... Of course, none of those thoughts are ones he would ever voice, most of all to Somnus. Pushing them aside, he gives the other man another smirk, voice maliciously amicable.
"And you would not wish to stop me, were I to do 'as I will'? I yearn to destroy one world already, after all. Are you so magnanimous as to believe I would refrain from doing the same to this one?"
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Ardyn is a smart man. He knows that freedom comes with nuance and consequences, if infringed upon others. What he's saying now is only to test Somnus. rdyn bringing ruin to another land isn't out of the question, as he is more than capable of making good on that threat. Even so...
"Is that what you truly want?"
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It would be wrong to say that his brother's question is unexpected. Ardyn still remembers their encounter during that stupid stunt with writing one's feelings to meet someone else; he remembers the fact that they both wrote the same thing. Of course Somnus would try to insist on knowing what Ardyn thinks or feels.
... And he does yearn for an end. For rest. For freedom from his curse and his "fate". But all of those things... they will be of his own making. Not granted out of pity, whether in this world or on Eos. Or is he supposed to feel grateful for this "respite", this brief break before they have to return?
Ardyn rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly, looking up at his brother.
"The only regret I have," he replies quietly, "is that while you are here I cannot consign you to the same oblivion as the rest of our world. What I want is for none of them to ever have a tomorrow. I want them - and you - to know it and suffer it. Without end."
His voice is all the more threatening for how quiet and restrained it is, underlining the sincerity of his desire for vengeance. Now that he knows of existence of other worlds it is not destruction he wishes for Eos, but an endless, hopeless limbo of despair. After that... perhaps he could go somewhere. Find his own end by his own hands, no longer beholden to anyone.
no subject
Somnus should have known better. This is to be it, that even beyond the yoke of their Star, Ardyn's cursed fate follows him here. Stagnation is all they are due, and hope for better is a curse.
What comfort either may have is an end, and none of it, Ardyn's fault. So he answers, his tone reserved and weary.
"I am sorry, brother."
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"You are sorry?"
The fire of fury is back in his eyes and his breath comes shorter as Ardyn tries to keep some measure of control. With the Scourge dormant, it is perhaps just a little bit easier than it would be back home.
"Where was that sorrow two thousand years ago? Where was that sorrow when you conspired with that woman? Where was that sorrow when you took everything from me?! Where was it when you wrote me out of history?! Imprisoned me, tortured me, let your spawn do the same!"
Though his words start quiet, Ardyn's voice quickly rises until he's shouting, the anger drowning him. He rises to his feet, grabbing his sword off the table, immediately pointing it at Somnus. It's perhaps the only mercy that he does not instantly go for a swing.
"You," he spits, "are not sorry. You never have been. You never will be. Traitor. Murderer."
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The labels are deserved, and he makes no effort to counter them. Somnus looks along the path of the blade to meet Ardyn's eyes.
"Are you not tired?"
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Again there is a strangeness to Ardyn's expression, as though he has to reprogram his features... and then he smirks again, the previous rage seemingly banked.
"No. You should have tried the Scourge for yourself, Somnus. Two thousand years of it. You would find it is quite... invigorating."
... After all, what else was left for Ardyn? What else was he supposed to hold on to to keep even some shreds of sanity, enough to play along with Bahamut's plan instead of letting himself be completely devoured by fury and despair, becoming a mindless lord of daemons? In its way the Scourge is both his blessing and his curse, a poison that keeps him alive.
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Still, he wonders, just how much does the Scourge control him, how much remains of his brother? In choosing vengeance, he chooses despair sustained by immortality and harms himself further. That is part of the curse. Perhaps he has not recalled that he's already won, by the Bladekeeper's prophecy, at that. Ardyn's revenge upon Lucis, the royal line, and the world, is fulfilled.
Somnus' head tilts, and he eyes the tip of the blade pointed at him, frowning.
"The gods chose you to house the Scourge... but you did not deserve to be their chosen."
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Befuddled and still angry, Ardyn does not have an answer to that, only managing to grip his sword tighter, breath hissing between his teeth as his eyes search Somnus's face for confirmation that this is some kind of trick, a lie, a threat, gloating - anything.
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For all of his formative years, he had been the envious brother, watching as the other had flawlessly succeeded in capturing the people's attention because he was blessed, because he wielded miracles, because he was able to lift a deadly curse. There was no doubt in anyone's eyes, even the younger brother's, that the elder was touched by the gods. Little did they know it came with a price. The revelation had been thus: that Ardyn's power was no cure, but his brother taking all the Scourge onto himself, taxing and corrupting.
Envy had blinded Somnus in his youth. But... no more.
Had the gods only asked Ardyn to be the vessel for this corrupting Scourge, undoubtedly he would have obliged and sat content for millennia until it was time for the True King to ascend. Ardyn was good in that manner, and would have done all for the world, including sacrificing himself. They are alike in this way; Somnus does all and anything for the world as well, including sanctioning the sacrifice of himself and his entire family for it; however, that does not make him good. That much is obvious, and the gap between them, or rather, him and the sheer goodness of who Ardyn used to be, remains staggering to this day. He could never compare; and it is this that makes him know for certain that Ardyn did not deserve the fate he had been dealt.
"You were good, brother. You did not deserve it... your suffering. From the Star's blight, or of my own hand," he repeats. Although his voice is lower, his gaze remains raised and certain, his tone earnest. "Would that you will not suffer upon this isle, either."
But if the Scourge, even dormant, has truly taken him over, then it will be a long, uphill, and arduous battle for peace.
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"Liar!!"
His sword bites into the table between them, slashing right through it - even with the magic taken away, his and Somnus's blades both are to be reckoned with. But Ardyn himself is shaking with fury - for reasons even he does not fully understand. All that he knows is that this, this compassion from Somnus, these words are something he can't tolerate. They can't be true. They can't. If they were, if they had ever been...
"For two thousand years you've done nothing! For two thousand years you've left me to my fate! Who was it that freed me from my containment, 'brother'? Was it you? Was it one of your spawn? Or were they sent to imprison the Adagium again?" He snarls, eyes fixed on Somnus in pure fury. "Or was it the Empire, seeking a new weapon to use? Answer me!"
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Even though as all of those years passed, it became increasingly obvious that the imprisoned man still suffered in shadows, all while Lucis thrived.
"For two thousand years.... I had done nothing." He concedes to it, for there is nothing else with which to defend. Each word feels like gravel tossing in his throat. What excuse is being within the purgatory of the Ring, underneath the overwhelming God of War and the oppressive power of the Crystal? Somnus is powerless, weak, and for that weakness, he did nothing. Weakness is not an defense Ardyn would accept.
He lifts his head, watching Ardyn solemnly.
"To do nothing still, all while I see you continue to suffer... This, I will not accept."
It is too defeatist when there is opportunity to do better beyond the yoke of the Bladekeeper. More than all, Somnus wants better for his brother in this realm.
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Yes, that is it, a part of his mind whispers, the part that strives to repair his mental defenses as quick as possible. That's it; a trick, a trap. He hates you. He's always hated you. Don't believe him. Don't believe anyone.
That's what his life had become ever since he was freed by the Empire. Even in his prison Ardyn hadn't yet come to loathe all; he was merely deathly tired, tired of the world, of his own existence. But with Besithia's "help" and the Infernian's revelation bestowed onto him the last shreds of hope had left Ardyn. There was no one left in the world whom he cared for and who cared for him in turn, no one to trust, no one to walk with him but the Scourge...
From a gift it had gone on to become a curse, and from a curse to become a comfort of sorts. The only thing that was still under his command, the only piece of control in his existence. Suddenly he feels its absence all too keenly; his mind yearns for the familiar mire of the Scourge, for the surety of knowing that he need only lift a hand to render any person, any creature before him into a pawn of his own. And in some strange, twisted way he'd come to care for the daemons he created, too; though merely tools, they were still his, his creations, in a sense his children...
Confusion, bitter vulnerability, some animal panic and anger all fuse into one big snake's nest of emotion. Ardyn half-shrinks back, hunching his shoulders, this time thrusting his blade into the floor as some kind of outlet.
"I am not suffering," he snarls, still shaking. "I don't need your pity!"
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"...Enough, brother," he replies, solemn. "Has it not been enough for you, that you do not see it?"
Somnus did nothing for so long, and now that he wants to, it is almost too little, too late, with each encounter taken in bad faith. He never acts out of pity.
But, for now, perhaps this is all they may do: if Ardyn does not wish for what he interprets as pity, perhaps now is not the time. Perhaps Ardyn is not ready-- and he needn't ever be, for all of what Somnus has committed against him. Perhaps the lingering effects of the Scourge still have too much hold over him.
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Somnus's words elicit another wave of fury within him - but Ardyn has had a little time to think now, and the raw, almost animal anger becomes his usual steely disdain. Again the sudden change is reflected on his face: snarling one moment, smirking humorlessly the next. He lowers his sword, tipping his head to give Somnus a condescending look.
"And what if it has not been enough for me, hmm? Will you seek to rectify that?"
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"You have won."
The endless night, the corruption of three kings of yore through the scourge, and the end of Lucis has all been realized by Ardyn's own hands. Even the end of the royal line, Somnus' own, is just within his reach, and there is nothing to stop this. Ardyn's vengeance is sanctified by the gods themselves. But of course even that would not be enough. Unfortunately, the gods' promise to an end of their immortality cannot be obtained while in Avalon. They are bound to be bleed eternally.
"If your victory is not enough... then the end you seek is not here. For neither of us."
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"But I have not won yet, brother. You and I both know that I never will as long as your precious master still exists. Or did you think me so narrow-minded that it is only you and your spawn that I want to see wiped off the face of Eos?"
Some part of his mind tells Ardyn that maybe he should hold his tongue - if (when?) they both return, Somnus knowing of Ardyn's aspirations to destroy Bahamut himself could throw a wrench into the plans. But he can't quite resist the temptation to declare his independence of the "divine" plan, even if in the end it might deprive Ardyn of his own rest.
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