ukan | IC CONTACT

Pagan's there in a few moments, looking himself, though, to a sharp eye, slightly rumpled. He's not exactly happy about being up this late, but he's been thinking.

Lark has a tea kettle out. Just as a subtle hint that it's been a while.

But he sees Pagan and forgets all about that, offers the sofa in the front room instead. "I'm not used to seeing you at this hour. What's on your mind?"

The tea isn't forgotten and he breezes past him to the kettle. It's better to have something to do with his hands.

"Do you know what I did today? Or, well, yesterday, I suppose," he amends, looking at the clock. "I was given the chance to take something. Something of power. Something I'm not telling you about for reasons that are inmate only but not dangerous. But would have given me some sort of petty fucking control of this place."

He curls a hand into a fist.

"And I didn't. I didn't even fucking ask for it because I knew...I knew it was a bad idea."

Lark is watching him, reading the lines of him, listening to the cadence in his voice. He considers asking what it was, because Pagan has burned him once before by not telling him things. But he realizes that old mistake has healed over, and he isn't afraid of Pagan shutting him out when Lark would need to know.

"What made you realize it was a bad idea?"

"Because there is a temptation to control people. No - " He pauses a moment, his back to Lark, and he waits for the water to boil. "Because I don't want to control that any longer."

He won't see the smile, that Lark is not surprised because he realized this about Pagan months ago. But the pride is there in his tone, no matter how natural Lark tries to keep it, it's there and it's warm. "What changed?"

"I don't know," he admits. "I said it. I said out loud that it would be a bad idea for me to run anything."

He runs his fingers through his hair.

"And now? I'm not certain what's left."

Now that is something he didn't expect. Knowing it, holding it inside like something fragile that could abruptly shatter and turn jagged, that's one thing. Saying it is letting it go while still being held to it. It means not knowing where it will take you.

"What's left is everything that being King meant burying," he says, not getting up, not wanting to do anything to make Pagan feel like he needs to clam up and smile.

He still doesn't look at him, still doesn't turn around.

The kettle whistles and he pours the tea, adding the milk.

"Burying?" he mutters. That means feelings. Grief. Guilt. Senses of wrongdoing.

"Who you wanted to be before you had to survive. And who you might have explored being, if you hadn't had to hold onto a country to identify yourself." It sounds so philosophical and that's not what he's going for.

"Imagine you get to go to some paradise. Or, if not that, some city where no one knows your face. What's the first thing you would do?"

"Hm." He draws it out slightly. He doesn't know where he wants to be or who he wants to be.

Who he is without the King.

"I'm tired, Lark. Tired of working. Tired of building. Tired of fighting."

"You're free to stop building and fighting now," he says, offering the one thing that is true on this ship. Wherever a graduate goes and whatever they do next, that's entirely up to them. "You spent your life doing that. That part of your life can be done, if that's what you want."

"I have," he tells him, walking over with the cups of tea. "I haven't done shit in months. Breaches don't count. I'm focusing on just getting the fuck out of here."

He takes his and sips, taking a moment to enjoy the warmth of it. "Let's go over your file sometime. Certain things in it might stand out to us now when they didn't before. I've always believed there are clues in it to help wardens and inmates both figure out what to focus on, but most people seem to read it once and then throw them aside."

He sucks air through his teeth at the mention of his file.

Things he kept buried...

He takes a sip of his tea, staring at the ground, heart skipping a beat. "Alright," he says softly, hesitating. He knows Lark might ask about the change, but he needs a moment to compose his answer.

He is curious. But he can also sense the hesitancy, so he gives Pagan that moment. "You're ready to keep moving," he prompts, very quietly, a hint of question at the end.

"I - did things that are very, very terrible," he says softly. "Or, well, some people thought they were."

He sighs. "I suppose I shouldn't just continue to ignore what's in that file."

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