Welcome to Gaia! ::

Amalric nodded at the thanks. Ergon still managed to sound miffed he was uttering the words at all, but that was not unexpected. Difficulty in acknowledging aid was common among icelings, particularly those with any clout to their name, and he was satisfied to at least hear it. At the, you ‘may’ return to business, however, Amalric’s eyebrows rose with pinched amusement.

“Oh, may I? How gracious of you to allow me, I appreciate having your permission.”

Then, though, came the monetary offer, and Amalric blinked, actually surprised. He hadn’t done it for ‘reward’ — clearly — but even if he’d been of a mind to to begin with, it wouldn’t have sufficed as reason to help since he hadn’t thought Ergon inclined to give him anything regardless. He was though, strapped for coin to begin with where Ergon clearly wasn’t, and though the man had just lost some, it was likely more inconvenience than long term issue.

“I would appreciate that,” he said, significantly more serious than the last time he had mentioned his ‘appreciation’ only a half minute before. It occurred to him to ask if the man needed anything else on the town, or if he would need to be in contact with anyone—if he was there on business, he might well have company that would need to be informed of his state even if he wasn’t sharing quarters with them.

But Amalric decided it wasn’t his business. He didn’t need to know, he could simply leave the man to his own devices and-

“What avenue of trade is your family most involved in? Will any of your business associates be…” He glanced back towards Ergon as he moved for his own bed, “…observing you in this state?”

“Lenders…” Amalric frowned. He would prefer never to be on either end of a loan, if he could help it. The way Ergon chose to put it, it didn’t sound so objectionable, and he knew it had the potential to be monumentally helpful—pivotal and necessary, even, for certain business junctures to get off the ground or make other expansions.

But there was so much that could go afoul, and money had way of bringing out the worst in people as it was. He couldn’t imagine dealing in the business of it. But, as with most things, someone was going to fill the job, so better Ergon than him, and he didn’t envy him it. Perhaps they were the good, earnest, flexible and compassionate sort of lenders. The ones who truly were in the business to see those who they worked with thrive, not just collect steep interest, hound struggling businesses, and extort as much as possible from their clients knowing that they—as the financier and provider—held all the cards.

Amalric gave a wry smile. “Exciting. I hope you do a fair job of it.”

Then, stepping by to take up Ergon’s coin, he left to pay. He wasn’t sure what kept the iceling boy on his mind then, but that he was curious in spite of himself, and while it wasn’t necessarily his ‘business’ and Ergon may well have reached the limits of his willingness for conversation—he still wanted to learn more of him. If only a little. Perhaps it was just his (slight) attractiveness added to the fact that they were sharing a room, which made it feel as though he ought to know something about him.

Or perhaps he simply had an over curious mind. Regardless, the first words from his mouth when he re-entered the room were a question: “Do you enjoy the work?” His eyes—because Ergon had chosen to lay on his belly, back side up—surveyed that view fleetingly before redirecting to his own bed as he moved to it.

Amalric snorted softly. After stooping to gather up one of his journals from his bag, he set it on the bed and perched on the mattress’ edge, lifting a foot to remove one boot, then the other.

“Enjoyment of one’s profession is not ‘irrelevant,’” he said, the words calm but matter-of-fact. It seemed a given to him. “If you don’t enjoy something you can hardly expect to excel at it and even if you did, it wouldn’t be remotely so satisfying as finding something you did enjoy. It would seem like a waste of life to me to dedicate so much to a profession I didn’t enjoy…”

Wouldn’t that be almost painful?

Amalric couldn’t imagine it. Though, to be fair, it wasn’t as though he had an ‘established’ profession yet himself at all—far from it. He felt so confident though that his magic would amount to something that he never considered settling for anything less. He’d find what he wanted. In time.

Amalric blinked.

Then, as the other went on, he bristled. “I said it would seem so to me if I did not try to dedicate myself to something I enjoy—not everyone has the privilege of doing something they're passionate about and I am worrying about critical issues I’m not stu-”

But he bit his tongue as the heat under his skin notched higher. He was of the firm opinion that anyone who had to say they weren’t something probably was. And he knew he wasn’t stupid, but it didn’t help to say it—because the only reason he felt tempted was because he’d been made to feel so. As though he hadn’t considered that sometimes it wasn’t an option, but he had. He had always in fact been potently aware of how easily someone of his limited family resources and background could be forced to pick for scraps if he didn’t apply himself to every extent he could.

He had only had his chance at education thanks to his aunt and uncle’s coin, but he was aware of that and had pushed beyond reliance.

“What does a spoiled racist iceling working for his father’s money-squeezing business know of lack of opportunity? You have every option available to you and if this is the one you like, then so be it but don’t kid yourself into thinking you are doing this out of ‘necessity’ if you don’t enjoy it—if you hate it and still do it when you have the money you do whatever else you might dream of pursuing, then you’re just too lazy or afraid to break away from what is familiar and easy because the path is already laid for you smooth by your wealthy forefathers. How exhausting that must be for you. For those with no avenues despite passion I certainly feel badly, but for you—you have no excuse.”

Amalric grimaced. “I didn’t say any of that. I simply said initially that you have options, and as such I believe you scraping about for pity is pathetic. It’s alright to be born into wealth, I didn’t suffer through an empty stomach or go homeless or any of the things you list, but I recognize my blessings and my deficiencies. You talk as though I should think you special or especially burdened because your parents don’t give you everything and expect you to earn your way? You are not suffering. You are fine. And if you’re upset with your life it is your prerogative—that is all I said.”

But because he had insisted on going on, Amalric’s temper continued to rise, stirred persistently and he oughtn’t but he could feel the prickles of his energy pushing under his skin, trying to lash out over his better intentions.

“I never said you needed to validate your choices to me and you don’t: I don’t care, I was attempting to make conversation, as I have been this entire time. I have tried to be polite, but you take everything poorly. All I sought from you was some semblance of a companionable air between us, but evidently you are nothing but a rude, blind, entitled, self-centered, pity-mongering, problem staring and assumptive arsehole who sees nothing but himself and whom I need nothing to do with.” He took up his bags—he only had two—and swept past the bed towards the door. “I am sorry your parents raised you to be such an insensitive and unappreciative s**t, as it will no doubt cause you and everyone who suffers your company needless upset in the future. You were cute and might have been decent otherwise, but as it is I regret keeping your company for even so long as I have and would rather sleep in a ditch. Good day.”

He slammed the door behind him.

He didn’t know where he would go, but he didn’t need to suffer any more of the boy’s company and he certainly would ‘follow orders’ of silence. If Ergon considered it a victory that he left first than so be it—it was worth being out of his sight.