[It's nearly impossible to hide the surprise on her features when Ezio insists he would have come anyway, despite the argument they had, despite how angry she was at the time. The word on her lips nearly tumbles out - why - but Hawke is more controlled than that, biting down on it before it has any chance to betray her conflict and the small, lingering need she feels to turn around and run, to apologize for wasting his time.
No one stays. It's a fact of life, one she's needed to learn most earnestly. Anders will not return to Kirkwall nor to her; Isabela will take Fenris and hopefully Bethany and flee altogether; Hawke, herself, will not go back to her home anytime soon. She cannot expect Ezio to want to stay either, not when she's lashed out so foolishly and hurt him.
She swallows the trepidation in her throat.]
I... I wanted to talk about what you said before, back in the cavern.
[It's a terrible way to begin their reunion. But if he wants to leave, she'll let him, only after she's said her piece. Hawke leans just slightly against the wall, a window separating her and Ezio to give them both the space they properly deserve, side pressed against the corner. She keeps her gaze leveled with his own, undeterred, unyielding.]
Last week, when those people were taken, when there were children in those cages-- I was stupid. I tried to go down there and help them.
[The attempt had been short-lived and altogether painful. She'd tried multiple times right then and there, pushing back, striking the void. Though she'd been unharmed for the most part, the feeling was almost as painful as her altercation on the Ishimura, forcing her to stop.
And it had been there, staring out at the cages and knowing she'd failed, that Ezio's words had come back to her. She couldn't save them, just as she couldn't save Carver or her mother, or Anders, or any of the numerous people who had fallen during her time as Champion or before, or when the ashes settled in Kirkwall's courtyard.]
I know you weren't trying to hurt me. [Even if you did is an undercurrent though, unspoken, because she had hurt him too in her denial and her refusal to listen. She'd turned her back on him when he had only been trying to help her.
Her eyes flit to the window just briefly, out to the courtyard. Her reflection catches her eye and she forces herself to look back at him.] And you were right. You always were. I can't save everyone. And I can't fault or hate myself because of it.
[She always will, though. The guilt will always be carried with her, a shadow and a burden on her heart, even if she can accept that people will fall under her watch no matter what she tries to do. She wonders if her cousin, Solona, knew this pain as a Warden.
At length, Hawke turns herself so she's facing Ezio this time, no longer leaning, hands at her sides.]
I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for...for pushing you away when you were only trying to help, when you had put yourself in danger to save me. [If he hadn't been there, she would have surely died, all because she was chasing the ghosts of her own failures.
Her voice falters for a moment, pained at the edges, and she closes her eyes briefly to steel herself.] And I'm sorry for hurting you because of what I said. I was out of line and I wasn't fair to you.
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No one stays. It's a fact of life, one she's needed to learn most earnestly. Anders will not return to Kirkwall nor to her; Isabela will take Fenris and hopefully Bethany and flee altogether; Hawke, herself, will not go back to her home anytime soon. She cannot expect Ezio to want to stay either, not when she's lashed out so foolishly and hurt him.
She swallows the trepidation in her throat.]
I... I wanted to talk about what you said before, back in the cavern.
[It's a terrible way to begin their reunion. But if he wants to leave, she'll let him, only after she's said her piece. Hawke leans just slightly against the wall, a window separating her and Ezio to give them both the space they properly deserve, side pressed against the corner. She keeps her gaze leveled with his own, undeterred, unyielding.]
Last week, when those people were taken, when there were children in those cages-- I was stupid. I tried to go down there and help them.
[The attempt had been short-lived and altogether painful. She'd tried multiple times right then and there, pushing back, striking the void. Though she'd been unharmed for the most part, the feeling was almost as painful as her altercation on the Ishimura, forcing her to stop.
And it had been there, staring out at the cages and knowing she'd failed, that Ezio's words had come back to her. She couldn't save them, just as she couldn't save Carver or her mother, or Anders, or any of the numerous people who had fallen during her time as Champion or before, or when the ashes settled in Kirkwall's courtyard.]
I know you weren't trying to hurt me. [Even if you did is an undercurrent though, unspoken, because she had hurt him too in her denial and her refusal to listen. She'd turned her back on him when he had only been trying to help her.
Her eyes flit to the window just briefly, out to the courtyard. Her reflection catches her eye and she forces herself to look back at him.] And you were right. You always were. I can't save everyone. And I can't fault or hate myself because of it.
[She always will, though. The guilt will always be carried with her, a shadow and a burden on her heart, even if she can accept that people will fall under her watch no matter what she tries to do. She wonders if her cousin, Solona, knew this pain as a Warden.
At length, Hawke turns herself so she's facing Ezio this time, no longer leaning, hands at her sides.]
I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for...for pushing you away when you were only trying to help, when you had put yourself in danger to save me. [If he hadn't been there, she would have surely died, all because she was chasing the ghosts of her own failures.
Her voice falters for a moment, pained at the edges, and she closes her eyes briefly to steel herself.] And I'm sorry for hurting you because of what I said. I was out of line and I wasn't fair to you.