She had known the evil inside of Gilgamesh, of course she had; she had been a witness to it, seen his power and his cruelty, how nasty and uncouth he could be to people, how he could push and tease and nudge simply because he thought that he was better than everyone else. For all that she saw the good in him, and celebrated it, urged it out, she knew that he had a darkness that she could never touch - he would have exploited and used her if she had ever given him the chance, and the reminder makes her feel sick.
What really, truly hits home is the knowledge that, perhaps, she hadn't known him at all. That everything that she had shared with him had been a lie, a fabrication to win her over. That each and every single time she spoke to him, every promise they made, each moment they shared, had just been a lie to trick her onto his side. She doesn't want to believe it - she doesn't want to imagine that their vows to each other, the times they'd shared, how deep and personal their connection had been was all just... Untrue. She wants to believe in Gilgamesh in the way she had always done, but in the face of this...
Katsa is one of her best and dearest friends. Katsa means more to her than - than so much. She had almost lost her and found her again, and now the knowledge of the horrors Gilgamesh had inflicted upon her... Hermione can't bear it. She can't handle it, not with everything else on top of it, not with all her haunted memories of the Drabwurld still resting thick and heavy on her shoulders.
The assassin. Caer Scima. Gilgamesh. The Sigil. Mistake after mistake after mistake, piling up on her and leaving her feeling broken and restless, her hands shaking as she stares down at her device.
Would she have even found out if Gilgamesh had killed Katsa? He would never have told her. Katsa would have been just another death, another person gone in his quest for power, his search for some meaning in his life. Hermione would never have known and she would have continued, her faith in him sound and her trust unshaken.
Tears roll down her cheeks now and Hermione has to figure out how to breathe as she stares down at the stupid text, trying to find a way to respond. There is no way; what can she do? What is she meant to say? What words will make this right? Hermione knows how strong and brave Katsa is, and for all that to be undone, for even her Grace to be useless... The fear, the terror she must have felt... There's no forgiving that.
text;
She had known the evil inside of Gilgamesh, of course she had; she had been a witness to it, seen his power and his cruelty, how nasty and uncouth he could be to people, how he could push and tease and nudge simply because he thought that he was better than everyone else. For all that she saw the good in him, and celebrated it, urged it out, she knew that he had a darkness that she could never touch - he would have exploited and used her if she had ever given him the chance, and the reminder makes her feel sick.
What really, truly hits home is the knowledge that, perhaps, she hadn't known him at all. That everything that she had shared with him had been a lie, a fabrication to win her over. That each and every single time she spoke to him, every promise they made, each moment they shared, had just been a lie to trick her onto his side. She doesn't want to believe it - she doesn't want to imagine that their vows to each other, the times they'd shared, how deep and personal their connection had been was all just... Untrue. She wants to believe in Gilgamesh in the way she had always done, but in the face of this...
Katsa is one of her best and dearest friends. Katsa means more to her than - than so much. She had almost lost her and found her again, and now the knowledge of the horrors Gilgamesh had inflicted upon her... Hermione can't bear it. She can't handle it, not with everything else on top of it, not with all her haunted memories of the Drabwurld still resting thick and heavy on her shoulders.
The assassin. Caer Scima. Gilgamesh. The Sigil. Mistake after mistake after mistake, piling up on her and leaving her feeling broken and restless, her hands shaking as she stares down at her device.
Would she have even found out if Gilgamesh had killed Katsa? He would never have told her. Katsa would have been just another death, another person gone in his quest for power, his search for some meaning in his life. Hermione would never have known and she would have continued, her faith in him sound and her trust unshaken.
Tears roll down her cheeks now and Hermione has to figure out how to breathe as she stares down at the stupid text, trying to find a way to respond. There is no way; what can she do? What is she meant to say? What words will make this right? Hermione knows how strong and brave Katsa is, and for all that to be undone, for even her Grace to be useless... The fear, the terror she must have felt... There's no forgiving that.
Hermione knows it, and it breaks her heart. ]
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Katsa. I didn't know.