The Wild Dove
"You know, I'm really quite lucky."
Addam said this all the time, and despite the fact that it apparently, ostensibly, became less and less true with each battle and each passing day, Minoth had abandoned ribbing him for it.
"Pray tell, my prince?"
"My dream's all cut out for me. My future, rather."
Having externalized this thought, Addam frowned, cheek distorted by thumb and chin wrapped by index finger. Who was he, to talk of "his" future, frivolous dreams? Why was everything divided into the Aegis War, such as it was, and the nebulous, impossible afterward?
Would there even be anything subsequent, or would it be as insignificant as, well, an afterword?
"I know what you mean," said Minoth, despite himself; someone had to fill the silence. "You've got somewhere to go."
Addam leaned back, crossed his arms, dug his heels into the dirt, sighed. "More than that. I've got the farm. I've got Flora. I've got everything I want. And why should I?"
No echo came from Minoth; it would be too facetious, too aimless.
In fact, there was no leading question that seemed to fit. Something about generosity (philanthropy), or being the best (only) man for the job? Not quite...
"So you do it, too, huh?"
"Do what?"
"Tell yourself you can't have anything good until you've had something bad, first, and everyone else has eaten. Double standard. Hypocrisy. All that good shit."
Addam winced more than he frowned, now. "I don't think I take your point."
Of course. There it was, live and in color: Addam could get this way, in quiet conversation. He'd refuse to recognize gentleness being offered to him, if it was too late to pretend conscientious. Not to say that he was fake, by any means, but if it was Lora, Addam might have responded a bit more openly.
Didn't faze Minoth in the slightest.
"We seem to forget, you and I, what a big difference there is between us and the likes of Zettar, Amalthus, even Ardanian senators."
(Hugo excepted, of course, though Brighid's arrogance remained sharp at the tenderest of times.)
Addam remained silent - taking a cue from Minoth's usual, then.
"For instance," and here Minoth laid his plan, "if you happened to find a wandering cowboy with no such place to return to, and he was a hard worker, and you liked his company, you wouldn't make any bones about it, now, would you? You'd put him up right there."
"I would," agreed Addam, readily and with the barest hint of a smile.
"So you'll share your blessings. That's all it takes."
How wonderfully simple. "It comes complete!"
"With manure?"
"With manure, my dear. With more beautifully indomitable Armu than you can ever hope to count."