Dorothy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ungratefuloz) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sranks2025-09-25 08:34 pm
ungratefuloz) wrote in sranks2025-09-25 08:34 pm
GRATUITOUS DEATH AHOY
oh boy, look at the time! time to cry!!!
(catch all for the last words meme, aka bakerstreet's only good meme--)
(catch all for the last words meme, aka bakerstreet's only good meme--)
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She hadn't been careless. She hadn't even been cocky, she'd been so determined to win with everyone by her side, and she was truly the only one who could slay Sombron. This much is true even now, as he lay dead and relieved of his head in front of her, Alear;'s grip on her sword the only thing keeping her upright now. But it seemed that Sombron wanted a price for his death as well--she had so much time for her wounds to heal, but he somehow managed to knock open that stomach wound in their clash, and it's taking everything in Alear's power to even stand right now.
"War's unpredictable. By now, you've gotta know that better than anyone else.
But I can promise you that I've got no interest in dyin'. You owe me a fight, after all."
He'd paused then, and she remembers the slightly awkward look on his face--likely wanting to ask a question he couldn't bring himself to, because it'd be weird to him, but he spoke up again and...
"So... Be a little more careful, will you?"
He'd been careful. She'd been careful too, but here she is now, the shock of pain finally hitting her as she realizes her father fully intended to put an end to her.
The darkened spike of Obscurite's dark magic is still lodged in her for a brief moment, perhaps the last bit of her father's strength. That allows her to realize that she isn't making it out alive. It disappears, and Alear falls to the ground face first. She'd certainly charged into the fray, but even from above on a wyvern, one can likely see the pool of blood forming below her.
She doesn't have long. But some part of her prays she won't die alone.]
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So when he'd warned Alear to be careful, it wasn't because he thought she wouldn't be. It's because he couldn't trust that some bullshit wouldn't happen to her anyway, and rip this fragile, budding happiness from his hands.
And wouldn't you know it.
Zephia's much more mobile in battles thanks to her wyvern, so she's flown on ahead to assess the situation near Sombron. Hanging out in the back to take care of his underlings is a necessary but stupid place to be. It's when she returns in a hurry, calling for him that he really knows something is wrong. Griss doesn't even wait for her to finish, he's already using his magic to warp himself straight to Alear's side.
(A stupid oversight; a great use of magic that will prevent him from healing a full potential.)]
Alear! Shit, Alear, can you hear me?
[Griss kneels immediately, heedless of the blood soaking into his skirt, reaching out to her shoulders as if maybe he'll simply shake her awake. A stupid thought, but it's the only damn thing he knows to do in this moment because she is bleeding heavily and he can't hope to treat the injury until he can actually see it—]
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At first, she can't respond. Everything feels like it's draining from her at once, her blood upon the ground and the last visages of life, memories--she attempts to move one of her hands to try and stand, but she only manages to flip her head so she can at least look at him, her breathing ragged, wheezing, and wet.]
G...Griss...
[Alear coughs, and blood comes up and out of her mouth as dribbles down her chin. Even so, she tries to smile despite it all.]
I--I hear you. I promise, I...I was...careful...
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...Which means there's only a limited amount of time left before she bites it.
It's that thought that spurs him to pour healing magic into that wound, to try to seal it. To try to undo the damage that's been done. But between using a fair bit of his own magic to warp this far and his inability to pinpoint the exact injuries to heal, he's expending a lot of magic, way too fast. It's already immediately, painfully obvious that it won't be enough.
But he tries anyway. He can't stop trying.]
Dumbass, you think I care about that!? Just—
[Whatever it was he was about to say gets roughly cut off as his voice abruptly breaks. Griss's breath comes in ragged, like maybe he's the one who just got stabbed rather than Alear. He hasn't pushed himself that hard on the healing - which just causes him to double down on it. It still isn't enough. It isn't enough and his hands are shaking from the strain and it won't be enough, but he has to keep trying because to do otherwise is to let her die—]
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[He pours and pours and pours into Alear, who may as well be a broken cup at this point. No amount of healing magic is managing to seal the wound, and if it weren't for the gambit that Zephia had done with her ring earlier, they wouldn't even be alive for this much.
But it means there's no escaping, this time.
Alear is going to die here, and she hates it. She hates that Griss has to watch. She hates that Griss is going to keep trying, and trying, until his hands are numb and until he knows there's nothing that can be done and beyond that, and she doesn't want to leave. She doesn't want to.
For once in her damn life, she's wanted to live for herself because of him. Alear didn't want to be simply the Divine Dragon to someone; she wanted to be herself. She wanted to be Alear, whatever that meant in the end, and at the end of their road, there's nobody else she would have wanted by her side other than him. To maybe see what this new world would bring them both, for fixing it so.
But now...Alear sees his shaking hands, and as she coughs again, blood staining the ground, she doesn't have much time. She's going to die here.]
...I know. I'm sorry. [It's feeble, like she's that lost child from so long ago.] I don't--I don't want to leave either, Griss.
[And for the first and last time, Alear allows herself a selfish emotion as tears form in her eyes, and she can't even bring a hand up to hold his, to stop him from draining himself entirely--but she can't move. It's taking so much to even speak right now.
But she has to try.
...]
I...
You...know I...love you, r-right?
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There isn't any denying it. Alear's going to die.
Slowly - agonizingly slowly - Griss lowers his hands before abruptly deciding that he can't just let go like that. They both seize one of Alear's, grip painfully tight despite how badly his hands are shaking.]
Do you think I'm fucking stupid? Of course I know that.
[The words are rough, ragged, colored in some emotion he can't place.]
That's why you gave me the damn box, isn't it? 'Cause it was supposed to be a promise - for whatever future we'd build together, yeah?
[For a future that won't come, because Sombron stole her from him.]
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Alear looks up at Griss as his magic runs dry, and for all of his work, he at least bought minutes. Minutes that she listens, that she knows it's a little silly to feel almost put out by him finding her out so quickly, but knowing that her emotions have come through even in a time like this...in everything they've been through, she's even more firm in her decision. She loves Griss so much.
And she's so horrifically grief ridden, that he had to be the one to see her like this at the end of her road.]
Yeah. It was. [Alear keeps her gaze on him, though her eyes start to droop, slow but sure--she doesn't have long, even with the time he's bought her.] I never knew...what would happen. But facing it...with you? It felt so much less scary. It felt...
[Alear feels herself chuckle a bit, and though tears form in her eyes, she doesn't let herself cry. She can't. The Divine Dragon must always be strong, even in death.
But man, if only for a moment, she wishes she could.]
It felt like...it made the future worthwhile. Like something...I wanted to grasp. With you.
To have someone who could just...see Alear--see me, rather than the Divine Dragon.
[Her voice betrays her when she speaks again, cracking just a touch.]
...I wanted to do so much.
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Griss bites it back. She doesn't need the reminder. Hell, who is he kidding, he doesn't need the reminder. There's only a short time left, and then—]
I know. I know, dammit, I just... didn't figure it out. And maybe if I had things would've gone differently or maybe I would've been by your side or... hell, I don't know.
[Maybe there's a world where Griss was able to save Alear, but it isn't this one.]
You've been givin' me a whole other reason to live. You know that, don't you? A reason beyond pain and Zephia. You make me actually wanna look towards the future, and see what it holds.
You mean so damn much to me, Alear. I love you too.
[She needs to know that much before she goes. So even though he hates putting it so plainly, he does it anyway.]
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[Alear listens as Griss continues to speak, though the words feel like they're blurring together at this point. She's going to die soon. She's going to die on the man she gave a reason to live, a reason to be, and the guilt is eating her alive. She wishes she knew what more she or anyone else could do, but...
Hearing him say that he loves her so plainly gets her eyes to widen briefly, and she loses the battle to keep her tears inside. She'd spent so long worrying about forcing her feelings onto him, and he loved her all the same.
And so, Alear smiles. Gripping his hand as tightly as she can, with the last of her strength.]
...Knowing that I've done that for you...it fills me with more joy than I can express. Thank you. Thank you.
[She doesn't care who sees her; let them. They can finally see the delicate little girl she's been hiding.]
Can I be...selfish, and ask one last thing?
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'Course, Alear. Anything you want.
[He just wishes he could do something - anything - to change her damn fate.]
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[She wishes she could change her fate too. She wishes this didn't feel so cruel to ask of him, after all that's happened and how much this will hurt.]
You--deserve this chance. To live your life as you want it. So...please do. Please experience it...please enjoy it to the fullest.
And...at the end of your road...when we're finally back together again, forever...tell me every single story. It doesn't have to be hours long, but...I want to hear everything. Every little detail. I want to hear everything that you get to experience with this new chance.
And...when we meet again, let's make our own stories together. That way we'll have plenty to keep Zephia occupied when she comes along, too.
[Alear's eyes start to close. Not too much longer, now, and even her grip on his hand feels faint.]
...Promise me that? Please?
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He doesn't have long to debate. He knows what he has to do. Still, Griss huffs a sigh.]
You really aren't makin' it easy on me, huh. Alright. I ain't ever gonna be a good person, and I'm not even sure I'll be someone with a life worth livin'. But I'll make sure I get a ton of damn good stories - so when we meet up, I'll keep you entertained for hours.
And... And you'd better have some good ones for me too, okay!?
[His grip tightens on her hands again and his voice gets louder, as though maybe that can chase her to where he can't follow.]
So just— Wait for me, okay! And don't you dare forget!
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I'd much rather you be yourself, silly. That's who I fell for. I'll hear every story, even the ones about pain. I promise. I promise all of that.
And I'll never forget. I promise. I...
[Alear wishes she could say so much more. Say how much she loves him again, even as he shouts down the dark tunnel she's found herself in. She wishes deep down that she could stay with him and make beautiful stories alongside him so much. She wishes she'd been more careful, that her father hadn't gotten the better of her. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to maybe see if there was something to all he was babbling about, or at least properly repay him for everything he's done.
But Alear finally goes slack and dies, perishing with a smile on her face--and if Griss looks closely, their pinkies are locked together, slack though they are now.
She'll wait however long it takes for him. Seems like that much she inherited from her mom.]
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He's not really sure how he gets from point A to point B, or any other point in between. It feels like he's lost in a fog, unable to fully pull himself free of it until he's met with the sudden, startling clarity of Alear's funeral.
It's a massive mourning for the Divine Dragon. There are so many people here who loved and cherished her as a figurehead and it makes Griss sick. He leaves, and waits on the edge of the isle for Zephia to find him.
I know it isn't what you wanted to see. She says by way of greeting as she joins him, sweeping her hair and skirt out of the way as she sits beside him.
She wouldn't want that crap either. She just wanted to be Alear.
And yet she wanted to help everyone she could. Zephia reminds him gently. I'm sure she would be happy to know that the nations are doing well now. Even Elusia is finally playing nice.
Griss scoffs. Am I supposed to care?
No, Zephia reaches out to ruffle his hair, but she'll want to know when you see her again.
It's that reminder that sees him keeping a closer eye on those former allies of the Divine Dragon. It's that reminder that keeps him focused - on finding and gathering new stories for her. Stories of her friends and allies and companions, but also of himself and the things he gets up to.
It never really feels like enough, but he tells himself that each experience will be worth it to share with her someday, just to see her smile light up the room again.]
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In the five years that followed, they've grown close. Closer than Hubert would have anticipated or expected given who they are as individuals and the duties he must carry out. He can tell the war - this constant bloodshed - weighs on her, but Dorothea keeps her head high. She looks stunningly radiant on the battlefield, whether she's burning enemies or healing their allies. She tries to hide it, but her expression betrays her - this path is a difficult one to tread, and she wonders if she's cut out for it.
Sometimes, Hubert wonders that too. Not if she's strong enough - no, never - but if there is a way to prevent her from having to deal with the horrors of war. Lady Edelgard has adapted masterfully; but then, her ability to adapt to this hardship was never truly in question. She has been preparing for it from a young age. Dorothea hasn't. Dorothea hasn't had time to grow accustomed to the idea of killing as a means of bringing about change, and though she clearly believes in them, believes in Lady Edelgard's vision of a better future... she struggles.
This is all because of you, you know. You make me wonder what it's like to be wholly devoted to another person. She'd told him, once. A throwaway sentiment toward the beginning of the war that still rings in his head even now. There are times when Hubert finds himself watching Dorothea even more than Lady Edelgard - concern, he thinks. Because Lady Edelgard is prepared for this, and Dorothea is not. Nothing more than that.
(It can't be anything more than that.)
Their battles have taken them far. They're in Kingdom territory now, bringing the fight to the Church, and to the King of Faerghus. Unsurprisingly, Lady Edelgard has insisted she lead the charge. But there simply isn't a way to ensure she's safe from all sides without splitting up their forces. Caspar and Linhardt have been sent around their other flank, while Dorothea is to lead this one. Hubert is at Lady Edelgard's side, as always.
Dorothea's flank has come into contact with Kingdom soldiers, and even from this distance Hubert can recognize Dedue. He'd once held the hope that Dedue would understand; that as a loyal retainer to a royal he'd hold the same kind of care and loyalty that has shaped Hubert his entire damn life - but speaking to the man proved he was nothing more than a dog on a leash. Certainly nothing like Hubert.
He has to tear his eyes away when a volley of arrows threatens their line; it's nothing his dark magic cannot make short work of, but it reminds him how easily he's being distracted. He cannot allow himself to be distracted for even a moment on the battlefield. Not when Lady Edelgard's life is on the line.
(Dorothea will be fine, he tells himself, because he can't bear the thought that something could happen to her.)]
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It helps that she's grown close to Hubie, over the years. She'd long thought him a starstruck maiden taken by Edie's ideals, but time proved again and again that Hubie put his money where his mouth was. That he certainly wasn't all talk; his devotion to her was real, it was something tangible and beautiful, and for a long time, Dorothea envied him for that. She couldn't ever understand the things that made him so devoted, so steadfast, and it perplexed her always, but...
He made her curious, too. Curious about what it would be like to be wholly devoted to one person and one person alone. It had almost been a flight of fancy when she spoke it into being, but...
And if you were able to walk the path as I do... that would be something very special.
She wanted to be strong for him. She wanted to be strong for the both of them, but with how close she and Hubie have become over the years, she wonders just how much of her devotion is reserved for Edie's cause against her simple devotion to a man who has dedicated his all to one beautiful woman.
It's why she's been able to travel this far, lead their soldiers this far; the Kingdom's territory is within reach, but she just needs to destroy any soldiers that stand between them and their victory. Though she didn't know Dedue very well, she knew his loss was going to sting King Dimitri something fierce; it's why she elects to cast Agnea's Arrow, to at least make it a quick death...
As the soldiers fall, Dorothea notices Dedue pause; something in the air changes, and he speaks up, and...]
It is time. Your Majesty... I will avenge your father. You are the one true king...Dimitri. Grr... Grrrr!
[Dorothea watches in horror as Dedue transforms in front of her, the towering, hulking creature already managing to send the soldiers with her into a frenzy--they need to beat him quickly, they need to, but Dorothea has to make sure they know that--]
E-Edie, Hubie, Professor, be careful! They have crest staaaaaaaAAAAAAAAH--!!
[Dorothea makes the fatal mistake of turning away for even a moment, and she sees it all. Dedue--or what's left of him, soaked red in blood. He's managed to break past all of the soldiers and he's set his sights on her, and her legs root her to the spot.
She lets out a horrifying scream as she attempts to finally cast Agnea's Arrow, but it's too little, too late. The only thing that stops her scream is some sort of sickening mix of a slash and a crunch, and Dorothea takes a direct slash across the chest.
Her body falls to the ground shortly after. She doesn't even want to look at herself, at how Dedue's almost certainly landed a fatal blow, but...
Even now, she doesn't want to die. She won't be able to see--]
Hel--...lp...me...!
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Linhardt's flank is fine. They're still fighting Church soldiers and are holding their own in the clash. The sound isn't coming from straight ahead either, where Lady Edelgard cuts her way through Dimitri's troops. Then it must be coming from‐]
Dorothea—
[It's Dedue. Of course it's Dedue, because he would do anything for Dimitri. Becoming a monster - an unleashed, wild and rabid dog - wouldn't even phase him. As long as it meant protecting Dimitri, the sacrifice would be worth it.
(As long as it means protecting Lady Edelgard, any sacrifice is worth it.)
The others on that side of the battlefield have Dedue— the beast's attention. Petra flits about it on her pegasus while Bernadetta pelts it with arrows from afar. It's firmly distracted. But even if it wasn't, there isn't a damn thing in the world that could have stopped Hubert from warping over there in a heartbeat.
Lady Edelgard's shout rings in his ears - not for him to stop, but Dorothea's name - a heart-wrenching, devastated call from a woman who can't turn her eyes away from her path for even a moment. She needs to be firm and resolute. She needs to make any sacrifice worth it.
And this is a sacrifice - Hubert knows that even as his feet touch the ground and he drops to his knees. Dorothea's dress - the one he's always thought of as a bit too grand to wear onto the field of battle - is stained with her own blood, and those claw marks have ripped gaping wounds into her that couldn't be sealed with any amount of magic. He knows this. He also knows it's pointless to try.
...That doesn't stop Hubert's (rather pathetic) attempts to do just that. The Professor had taught him a little. Not nearly enough for wounds this large, but he has to try. For Lady Edelgard's sake.
For Dorothea's sake.
(For his own sake. Because he can't, he can't lose her.)]
I'm here, Dorothea.
[The words are soft, barely shaking as he moves to heal with one hand, retrieve his cape with the other. It won't do much to staunch the bleeding, but that's what he's trying to do with it regardless. He has to hope it will work, because there isn't a deity he believes in to pray to.]
Speak to me. Try to stay conscious.
[An unfair ask of a woman who is dying.]
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(She could swear she hears Edie crying out her name, but she knows better than anyone she won't turn around. She can't--this is her path, and she can't stray for a moment.)
Of all the people she expected to see, though, Hubie wasn't even close to being on that list. Not because she doesn't think he'd want to, of course; because he has to. He'll always be at Edie's side, or at least, that's what Dorothea thought.
If these were better times, maybe she'd ask him if he were really considering her offer, but that faint healing magic...it gets her to smile, just the slightest bit.]
Oh...Hubie...
[Dorothea attempts to chuckle, but it comes out shaky and she has to cough shortly after it--her body jerking violently upward and likely undoing any progress Hubert had managed to make. She looks up at him, green eyes going dull and glassy by the moment.]
...Thank you.
[Tears start to well in Dorothea's eyes despite herself, and it takes everything in her to not give into those tears right now. She's a sacrifice, in the end.
...
She's...not unlike her mother, right now, is she?]
I know you're...trying very hard. I know this wasn't--easy.
...It means so much.
[She loses the battle to keep tears out of her eyes, and they begin to drop slow but sure--but there's something so deeply sincere about the way Dorothea speaks, and she needs him to know what she can't convey.
You tore yourself from Edie's side, to be near me. You came for me, at the very end. And I am so grateful.]
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You can't die on us, Dorothea. Don't you know how invaluable you are to Her Majesty? To—
[To me?
His hands grip his cape tightly where he's pressing it into her wounds; blocking the ugly sight from view and attempting to staunch the bleeding, though the former is far more effective than the latter.
Dorothea cries; she must know she's approaching the end as well. But she can't...]
You can't die on us.
[There's always been a backup in place of Her Majesty's death. Were Lady Edelgard to die, Hubert would destroy Those That Slither in the Dark as her final order. After that... Well, surely she knew what would happen after that.
But there's never been a plan in place for what will happen if Dorothea dies. If he'd been asked about even a day ago - hell, even hours before this battle - what would he have said? A useless thing to think about right now, while she's actively dying. There has to be something, anything that can save her—]
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[Dorothea feels herself sniffling like a child, wishing she could do something, anything to save herself. It reminded her of those nights on the street, cold and alone after her mother had passed, slinking behind any alleyway that could keep her warm and crying herself softly to sleep.
Dorothea feels herself cough again, and she shakily tries to bring her hand up. Hubie's doing such a good job stemming her wound, but he's getting himself so filthy in the process. For her. For a mere girl like her. She's a soldier, sure, but he should be at Edie's side. He should be there for her.
You can't die on us.
It almost sounds like Hubie's voice is breaking, and Dorothea's breathing starts to slow. She tries so hard to keep herself going, but she still--]
I...want to see it. The world you two make. I want to see it so badly...I don't...
[Dorothea doesn't want to spend the end of her life crying like a petulant child, but she needs him to know, she has to--]
...I'm so glad I met you, Hubert.
[She does her best to be strong, because she doesn't want Hubert to remember her like that. She doesn't want to be remembered dying a sniveling coward at the end of her road.
She ends up shakily putting her hand on top of his.]
If I...had a choice...my life would be yours. All of it. Everything that isn't...hers.
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And then the weight of her words sinks in and for the first time in a very long time, Hubert feels tears prick at his eyes.
The last time had been the day Lady Edelgard was taken away - he'd sobbed, then; a desperate, lost child infuriated by the adults around him who would do little to help Lady Edelgard. This isn't anywhere near the same thing. When was the last time he cried from sorrow? He doesn't remember.
He grips her hand tightly and ducks his head; a selfish, shameful act as though to hide the truth from her. Dorothea doesn't need to go to her grave thinking of such things.]
You know I feel the same way, don't you?
[It's soft, dangerously close to fragile. A genuine question, because he's not sure she truly knows. He's not sure when things changed, or how - but he knows in this moment that this is why he's been so focused on her. Because she isn't a distraction - she's the woman he'd make the center of his whole damn world if he hadn't already pledged himself to Lady Edelgard. A fate she doesn't deserve, as she does deserve far, far more - but it is of little importance now.]
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For a brief moment, Dorothea's expression falls as she tries so damn hard to keep herself strong for him. But seeing him hide, for him to see such an act as so shameful--Dorothea wishes she hadn't been so focused on relaying that report. She could have dodged, she could have done something, she could still be here for him.
She wishes she could be here for him, and it's with the last of her strength that she pulls a reckless maneuver.]
...I couldn't be sure. I didn't...want to ask until the war was won...
I'm happy to really know...you feel the same.
[She had an inkling, sure. Those too long gazes on her, on and off the battlefield, something almost concerned. She should have said something. She should've done more than sneak glances at him whenever she could get away with it, she should've done more than doodle their names in that stupid notebook together, just to see what it might be like.
The kiss is a little bloody, and she'll feel worse later about staining his gloves. But with the last of her strength, she brings that hand that has hers so tightly gripped, and she presses a gentle kiss upon it.
And though her body goes slack, her time coming to a close--she smiles at him.]
...Thank you. Thank you, for...loving someone...like me...!
[She means it. With every last bit of energy in her, she means it.
Her vision finally goes, her face starting to relax, and she doesn't have long before the rest of her finally expires. But if little else, knowing that she was loved by such a cold, cold seeming man...or anyone at all, really, it means the world to her.]
...Don't...forget that, okay...?
[It's barely a whisper when she gets it out.]
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But it feels hollow here and now, knowing that the one life he did take is one of the most important ones to Hubert.
Dorothea presses a kiss to his gloved hand and Hubert distantly wishes he hadn't been wearing the damn things, for once. Or even better, that he'd realized all of this sooner and thrown caution to the wind and acted on it and—
There isn't any point in beating himself up about what-could-have-beens. He knows this. There isn't any time for it. Not when these are likely her final words.]
As though I could ever forget? As though I would ever want to? Dorothea—
[He starts for a moment, like he's going to do something, anything but—]
...Rest well. We'll make the world you hoped to see a reality. I swear it.
[Not just for Lady Edelgard's sake, but for Dorothea's as well.]
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With one final grip on Hubert's hands, Dorothea's last bit of strength leaves her slow but sure. She isn't suffering anymore; she finally has the answers for so many questions that had been on her mind, and if she had the opportunity to do it again...
Dorothea would do the same thing, because the rest of them will live to see the new world Edie ushers in.
Dorothea finally perishes.]
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Eventually, Bernadetta approaches him. Her touch on his shoulder is light, fearful, but it reminds him where he is; what he's fighting for. Hubert tasks Bernadetta with finding Petra and having her take Dorothea's body back to the Monastery. Eventually they'll hold a proper funeral for her, but for now there's a battle to win.
Lady Edelgard doesn't need to ask when he rejoins her, and offers her condolences afterwards. She tries to keep it off her face, but it's obvious she's just as devastated by this loss as he is.
The funeral is a beautiful affair, and Dorothea is laid to rest.
The world they proceed to build is one that will slowly heal the damage the Church and Crests have done to Fódlan, but it isn't the world Lady Edelgard or Hubert truly wanted.
How often do you think about her? Lady Edelgard asks him one day, long after Those Who Slither lie dead and the crown rests in the hand of her successor.
Every day, without fail. He replies to her knowing, wry smile.
Do you think she'd be proud of us?
I think she'd be disappointed you even have to ask.]