Comfort and understanding, to Stephen, are two different things. He can understand, on some level, that this is an arrangement Kylo and Ronan have, a literal blood pact. Whatever Stephen thinks about that set-up isn't as important as the acknowledge that it's real, it's happening, and he understands it as a system that is in place.
All in all though, Stephen is quite calm, lulled and charmed by the surroundings and resigned to the role he needs to play in the many millions of possible ways. It makes it easier to do this in a way.
We don't get to choose our time. Death is what gives our live meaning. To know your days are numbered. Your time is short.
Stephen has held his final conversational with The Ancient One close to heart since it happened, playing it back over and over again, sometimes obsessively, sometimes as a method of grounding. Over and over. If this is to be the end of days, far from home, all Stephen can do is try and guide the flow of events with a touch so light it hardly even counts as contact.
Taking the pew that is gestured to him, Stephen sits forward slowly, shaky, scared fingers lacing together as he rests his elbows on his knees, listening first to Kylo's words, then the way they tremble in the air, and then to the magic swimming all around them like dust in sunlight.
"No. This is where we talk."
He turns his head to look at Kylo with Ronan, still entirely and maybe eerily serene.
"I'm just here to tell you both that I have seen what you're planning to do. And all the possible outcomes from you doing so, because there are many. I can't tell you what to do, or what not to do. What I can do is ask you, both of you, to reconsider."
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All in all though, Stephen is quite calm, lulled and charmed by the surroundings and resigned to the role he needs to play in the many millions of possible ways. It makes it easier to do this in a way.
We don't get to choose our time. Death is what gives our live meaning. To know your days are numbered. Your time is short.
Stephen has held his final conversational with The Ancient One close to heart since it happened, playing it back over and over again, sometimes obsessively, sometimes as a method of grounding. Over and over. If this is to be the end of days, far from home, all Stephen can do is try and guide the flow of events with a touch so light it hardly even counts as contact.
Taking the pew that is gestured to him, Stephen sits forward slowly, shaky, scared fingers lacing together as he rests his elbows on his knees, listening first to Kylo's words, then the way they tremble in the air, and then to the magic swimming all around them like dust in sunlight.
"No. This is where we talk."
He turns his head to look at Kylo with Ronan, still entirely and maybe eerily serene.
"I'm just here to tell you both that I have seen what you're planning to do. And all the possible outcomes from you doing so, because there are many. I can't tell you what to do, or what not to do. What I can do is ask you, both of you, to reconsider."