[ A perfectly serviceable guess, really; it wasn't as though Godfrey had done much to educate his new friends on the truth of him.
In this respect, he has done them a disservice. This is something that has always perched at the edge of his awareness; always there, but simple enough to avoid. All Godfrey truly needed to do was to remind himself of the simple fact that none of them could know him - that they all had things more important and pertinent to know than the silver-and-gold knight who had just blundered into their lives. They did not need to know him. He could know them, and surely, that would be enough.
This was before the first of them had tried to return the favour by knowing Godfrey as Godfrey had come to know them. Gale, attentive and careful, looking to absorb anything of Godfrey, sits before him. Ready and eager for anything that he might give.
And yet, his tongue guides the conversation in circles. He does not seek an ear nor a shoulder tonight, and he asks not that Godfrey remain sturdy and strong where he cannot. These things are simple; his own strength can stand in for others, and he can listen, and he can take in their tragedies, and he can hope that they weigh a little less on them for how they now weigh on Godfrey himself. Gale asks something else of him entirely. Godfrey hardly knows where to begin. And, indeed, where the others have slowly done him the honour of giving Godfrey pieces of themselves, Godfrey finds himself retreating, clutching those shards in his hands.
Why, Godfrey? He could not say. It was not as though Gale was an untrustworthy friend - and yet he hesitates. Even in the face of his kindness, he hesitates.
Sir Godfrey had sworn an oath. ]
You are kind to say so.
[ This small concession, first. He does not agree, and Godfrey does not hide this. He lifts his glass to his lips and takes a long, thoughtful sip, the bell-curve of its belly glinting in the low light. It hangs loose in his fingers when he finds his thirst satisfied, leaning casually against the inner edge of of his leg. ]
But it was me who lacked pragmatism. I think it will not surprise you to hear that my leadership was a touch... idealistic. I did not always keep in the forefront of my thoughts the well-being of the Temple.
no subject
In this respect, he has done them a disservice. This is something that has always perched at the edge of his awareness; always there, but simple enough to avoid. All Godfrey truly needed to do was to remind himself of the simple fact that none of them could know him - that they all had things more important and pertinent to know than the silver-and-gold knight who had just blundered into their lives. They did not need to know him. He could know them, and surely, that would be enough.
This was before the first of them had tried to return the favour by knowing Godfrey as Godfrey had come to know them. Gale, attentive and careful, looking to absorb anything of Godfrey, sits before him. Ready and eager for anything that he might give.
And yet, his tongue guides the conversation in circles. He does not seek an ear nor a shoulder tonight, and he asks not that Godfrey remain sturdy and strong where he cannot. These things are simple; his own strength can stand in for others, and he can listen, and he can take in their tragedies, and he can hope that they weigh a little less on them for how they now weigh on Godfrey himself. Gale asks something else of him entirely. Godfrey hardly knows where to begin. And, indeed, where the others have slowly done him the honour of giving Godfrey pieces of themselves, Godfrey finds himself retreating, clutching those shards in his hands.
Why, Godfrey? He could not say. It was not as though Gale was an untrustworthy friend - and yet he hesitates. Even in the face of his kindness, he hesitates.
Sir Godfrey had sworn an oath. ]
You are kind to say so.
[ This small concession, first. He does not agree, and Godfrey does not hide this. He lifts his glass to his lips and takes a long, thoughtful sip, the bell-curve of its belly glinting in the low light. It hangs loose in his fingers when he finds his thirst satisfied, leaning casually against the inner edge of of his leg. ]
But it was me who lacked pragmatism. I think it will not surprise you to hear that my leadership was a touch... idealistic. I did not always keep in the forefront of my thoughts the well-being of the Temple.