τρίτο ; video ; open to both courts

[rues]

[ picking up one of the feathers could have been a really bad idea, what with people turning into cats and things, but something much better happens when clarisse picks up this particular feather. she's never had any magic powers before, especially not of the elemental kind. it doesn't take long to figure out what's happened. accidentally soaking yourself during your morning training routine? yeah, as if she actually told anyone what really happened.

it gives her an idea, though. yes, you see, it's finally time for payback for all those years ago when percy nearly drowned her with toilet water. yeah, she never really let that one go. wonder why. (even if it was technically her fault for instigating the whole thing by trying to flush his head down the toilet in the girl's bathroom. whatever.)

the video opens with a long shot of percy, unsuspecting, like prey. she won't be pouncing on him, though, the water will be. basically. he won't get wet if she doesn't surprise him, anyway. annoying how that whole son of poseidon thing works. the video shakes a little while she tries to keep it steady with one hand, while the other pulls back and then sweeps forward again, pulling a huge crest of water with it, aimed directly at percy.

the splash it makes when the water crashes into him is more satisfying than slaying a hundred drakons. (maybe. that might be an overstatement. slaying one drakon had been pretty satisfying. but this has been such a long time coming.) she's laughing hysterically almost to the point of crying by the time she manages to say anything. ah, yes, vengeance is sweet. ]

HAHAHAHAHA! That's for nearly drowning me with toilet water, Jackson!

Comments

[sculptor_of_aman]

Your last words to him. What were they?

[rues]

[ of course. of course she would ask that. it's the one thing clarisse hasn't told anyone else, which makes it that much harder to repeat, especially to the mother whose son she had killed. swallowing thickly, her jaw tenses, a frown creasing her brow. ]

May you find no peace. [ and where there had been a sense of pride and satisfaction upon the first time those words left her lips, no such emotion is present now. ]

[sculptor_of_aman]

Why did you choose these words?

[There is no accusation, no judgment in the Elf's voice. Her tone remains as calm and steady as if they were discussing something as innocuous as the weather. Those grey eyes in the locket are equally calm and steady--and all but impossible to meet.]

[rues]

[ despite the lack of accusation in nerdanel's voice, clarisse still feels like she's being judged, like her very soul is being put on trial before the judges of the underworld. she has no explanation for why she chose those words; they were simply the first words that came to mind as her sword plunged through celegorm's chest. indeed, they were simply the product of her vengeance, her anger, her hatred, all so horribly unwieldy she became consumed by them on the battlefield and the dawn of battle's end. ]

Felt like he didn't deserve it. [ after everything he did, she didn't feel like even death was enough of a punishment. ]

[sculptor_of_aman]

And do you still stand by those words? Or would you wish you had spoken them differently, now that your mind is cleared of the battle fog?

[rues]

[ well, that's a heavy question, isn't it? and one clarisse doesn't entirely have an answer for. the words were entirely hers, a reflection of herself in the eyes of her father. she had become him, in that moment, and yet she was still herself. her actions, her words — as much as she wants to blame her father (and she does), she knows the consequences are hers alone to bear. would she have spoken them differently? she can't say. ]

It doesn't really matter now. If my mind had been cleared of the battle fog then, he'd probably still be alive. I never wanted to be a murderer. [ that much is true. she's supposed to be a hero, but how can she claim that title after what she's done? there's a certain regret to her words, even though she still believes celegorm deserved to die. she's still her father's daughter, after all. ]

[sculptor_of_aman]

[The Elf's grey eyes are so very clear, so filled with burning silver that even through the locket they seem to burn straight through into the very soul, all secrets stripped away. There is no malice, not even anger in her expression. Yet, nothing could escape that gaze.]

I see.

I believe you, Clarisse La Rue. You are not the killer you think you are, whether in pride or in shame. Fierce, overly quick to a temper, misguided, perhaps, yes. But not evil. And endlessly loyal. Had you looked more closely, you may well have seen yourself in my son's eyes, so alike are you in spirit.

I have seen the ravages of such fierce loyalties through the eyes of my children and the madness of my husband. Caution that they do not drive you such that you are consumed and betrayed by it as they were. You are yet quite young, hardly more than a child, and you have time to learn from your mistakes. Though I counsel that you remember always that everyone here is someone's child. Keep it in your mind and your heart that if you could not bear to look those who would fall to your sword in the eyes, hear their last words, and repeat your own last words to them to someone who loved them, perhaps you should reconsider using your sword at all. You were born for battle, but that does not mean you must be ruled by it.

I bear you no ill will, Clarisse La Rue. Fear not my wrath, for you will not see it for this. If you wish my forgiveness, I grant it to you freely. I ask only that you allow space for wisdom to be heard before you act.

You shall continue to do great things, Clarisse La Rue, and you will make many proud. Use your gifts well. Perhaps we shall speak again on happier terms.

[rues]

[ it's a lot to take in, the forgiveness of a mother whose son she killed, whose son she ran her own sword through just to watch him bleed and pluck his shard from his lifeless body. forgiveness, after all, isn't a concept clarisse entirely understands. she often thinks she isn't capable of such an act, so why should anyone else be? she sees those around her forgive so easily and she has to wonder how they do it. she'd spoken to percy about the very subject, but even his insight has her questioning herself. to hear that a mother could forgive the girl who murdered her son — well, she isn't sure how to handle it.

but the oddest part of all is the way her words remind clarisse of the high-king, so reassuring, so filled with belief that clarisse is not the monster she feels like, that she is not just her father's daughter, that she can be better than that. whether she believes it or not is another matter entirely.

she doesn't say anything — doesn't know what to say — in response to nerdanel, so she simply nods her head and ends the transmission. it's about as close as she'll get to saying "thank you." ]