wintersday (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wintersday) wrote2019-12-13 10:51 pm
wintersday) wrote2019-12-13 10:51 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Two Letters
Title: Two Letters
Fandom: The Magnus Archives
Major Characters/Pairings: Adelard Dekker/Gertrude Robinson
Wordcount: 696
Rating: PG
POV: First person (Epistolary)
Summary: A fear, a confession, and a promise never kept.
Gertrude –
I’ve acquired and delivered the materials you requested, but our meeting will be delayed, as I’ve had a run-in with a Hunter that left me rather worse for the wear. Nothing of particular interest to you, I’m afraid. We were seeking the same quarry, in the form of a particularly troublesome Leitner, and she took me for prey rather than ally. The Hunter is dead and the book destroyed, along with too many innocent lives, and that’s all I care to say about the incident.
What troubles me, Gertrude, is how many of them started out... not human, no. You and I both know that humanity is no proof against malice. But well-intentioned. They were protectors, before they became something else, and perhaps there is a line separating those who hold on to their humanity from those who do not. Perhaps there is a clear choice, and they made it. But knowing what I do of these entities and how they operate, I find that difficult to believe. If there is a choice, or a string of choices, it is a muddled one, with consequences opaque until the bill comes due.
It’s more complicated a matter, of course, than staring into the abyss, but I suppose I am fundamentally troubled by the notion that it might not be possible to fight evil without acceding to its terms.
But enough of that. I am only tired, I think, and I know you have no patience for moral philosophizing when this unwinnable war of ours has not yet been won. No doubt there will come a time when God grants us both the luxury of rest, but knowing what it would take to make either of us put the fight behind us, I hope that day does not come soon.
I can already envision you shaking your head at those words, refraining from laughter, and I am certainly aware that you do not hold with my faith or any other. In lieu of ‘go with God’, then, I will wish only that you see your next endeavor through safely.
Yours truly,
Adelard Dekker.
.
Adelard,
I hope your recovery progresses well.
I have received your delivery, and everything appears to be in order. I expect that it shall serve its purpose well enough, and if it does not, no doubt the fault will be in the execution rather than the materials. But there is little point in false modesty, so I shall say simply that I have confidence in both, and it will not be my safety in question.
Concerning the source of your unease, I‘d say you’ve managed well enough. Your terms are your own, as much as anyone’s can be, and though there are times when that has greatly compromised your effectiveness, I cannot help but to hold it in high regard – and, if I am to lay my heart on the table for you as you have so often done for me, to view it with some degree of envy.
If you are hoping for me to tell you that you are free of some power’s influence, I cannot do that. My knowledge has its limits, and how much of a hold such things might have on you is beyond my ability to see without making compromises of my own. But in the time that I have known you, you have not fed any of them more than scraps, and so any claim that they may have upon what you insist upon calling your soul is weak.
I am sure you are not foolish enough to take that to mean you are free of danger. I do hope it is some comfort, all the same. If it is not, then I promise you this instead: should a heretofore unknown avatar begin causing more trouble than can be tolerated, I shall dispatch it with all due efficiency. And should the Archivist’s gaze ever lay heavier on the world than it ought, know that I expect and hope the same of you.
On a more personal note, I regret your absence. I hope you will not make a habit of it. Take care, Adelard.
Sincerely,
Gertrude Robinson.
Fandom: The Magnus Archives
Major Characters/Pairings: Adelard Dekker/Gertrude Robinson
Wordcount: 696
Rating: PG
POV: First person (Epistolary)
Summary: A fear, a confession, and a promise never kept.
Gertrude –
I’ve acquired and delivered the materials you requested, but our meeting will be delayed, as I’ve had a run-in with a Hunter that left me rather worse for the wear. Nothing of particular interest to you, I’m afraid. We were seeking the same quarry, in the form of a particularly troublesome Leitner, and she took me for prey rather than ally. The Hunter is dead and the book destroyed, along with too many innocent lives, and that’s all I care to say about the incident.
What troubles me, Gertrude, is how many of them started out... not human, no. You and I both know that humanity is no proof against malice. But well-intentioned. They were protectors, before they became something else, and perhaps there is a line separating those who hold on to their humanity from those who do not. Perhaps there is a clear choice, and they made it. But knowing what I do of these entities and how they operate, I find that difficult to believe. If there is a choice, or a string of choices, it is a muddled one, with consequences opaque until the bill comes due.
It’s more complicated a matter, of course, than staring into the abyss, but I suppose I am fundamentally troubled by the notion that it might not be possible to fight evil without acceding to its terms.
But enough of that. I am only tired, I think, and I know you have no patience for moral philosophizing when this unwinnable war of ours has not yet been won. No doubt there will come a time when God grants us both the luxury of rest, but knowing what it would take to make either of us put the fight behind us, I hope that day does not come soon.
I can already envision you shaking your head at those words, refraining from laughter, and I am certainly aware that you do not hold with my faith or any other. In lieu of ‘go with God’, then, I will wish only that you see your next endeavor through safely.
Yours truly,
Adelard Dekker.
.
Adelard,
I hope your recovery progresses well.
I have received your delivery, and everything appears to be in order. I expect that it shall serve its purpose well enough, and if it does not, no doubt the fault will be in the execution rather than the materials. But there is little point in false modesty, so I shall say simply that I have confidence in both, and it will not be my safety in question.
Concerning the source of your unease, I‘d say you’ve managed well enough. Your terms are your own, as much as anyone’s can be, and though there are times when that has greatly compromised your effectiveness, I cannot help but to hold it in high regard – and, if I am to lay my heart on the table for you as you have so often done for me, to view it with some degree of envy.
If you are hoping for me to tell you that you are free of some power’s influence, I cannot do that. My knowledge has its limits, and how much of a hold such things might have on you is beyond my ability to see without making compromises of my own. But in the time that I have known you, you have not fed any of them more than scraps, and so any claim that they may have upon what you insist upon calling your soul is weak.
I am sure you are not foolish enough to take that to mean you are free of danger. I do hope it is some comfort, all the same. If it is not, then I promise you this instead: should a heretofore unknown avatar begin causing more trouble than can be tolerated, I shall dispatch it with all due efficiency. And should the Archivist’s gaze ever lay heavier on the world than it ought, know that I expect and hope the same of you.
On a more personal note, I regret your absence. I hope you will not make a habit of it. Take care, Adelard.
Sincerely,
Gertrude Robinson.