[ It shouldn't comfort her as much as it does to read those words because she knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that it means there will one day be a need for violence. Even when it means protecting something — and someone — worth fighting for, it means Mel will have to break the final moral she has held for herself. There is always another way, is what she has told herself for years and years, and here she is, making pacts with people to stand up and fight to protect those she cares for, for the people who cannot fight themselves.
For so long, she was one of those people. Just what is she becoming by being party to all of this?
(And yet, the alternative — to do nothing, to not fight, to remain static and unchanging, a councilor who cannot protect herself, held apart from the world and those she wants to walk with — is unacceptable. It is its own form of violence.
So perhaps she has only been deluding herself, believing she was peaceful. Perhaps the wolf has always been pretending to be a fox. Nothing she has ever offered has ever been kind, now that she has the space and regret of hindsight to see it all. She's only ever offered violence, sweetened with honeyed words and promises, and nothing else. A failure, over and over, to live out the ideals of her house and herself.)
One day, she may have to ask these people to fight for her. She may have to send them into danger. She knows, intrinsically, she cannot do this alone. And yet some part of her is adamant, again and again: I have to be stronger. I can't lose anyone else. I can't be a burden any longer. I can't have anyone hurt because of me, not again.
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Date: 2025-07-07 01:55 pm (UTC)For so long, she was one of those people. Just what is she becoming by being party to all of this?
(And yet, the alternative — to do nothing, to not fight, to remain static and unchanging, a councilor who cannot protect herself, held apart from the world and those she wants to walk with — is unacceptable. It is its own form of violence.
So perhaps she has only been deluding herself, believing she was peaceful. Perhaps the wolf has always been pretending to be a fox. Nothing she has ever offered has ever been kind, now that she has the space and regret of hindsight to see it all. She's only ever offered violence, sweetened with honeyed words and promises, and nothing else. A failure, over and over, to live out the ideals of her house and herself.)
One day, she may have to ask these people to fight for her. She may have to send them into danger. She knows, intrinsically, she cannot do this alone. And yet some part of her is adamant, again and again: I have to be stronger. I can't lose anyone else. I can't be a burden any longer. I can't have anyone hurt because of me, not again.
Over and over and over. ]