"Two years. Two years in the same place. Can you credit it? Not since I was a child..."
He's woolgathering. Isn't he? This isn't relevant, is it? "Drugs. This isn't, it isn't quite like mescaline, or like those others. Similar. Similar. It could be."
He looks over Firo's shoulder. The fear slips onto his face again, but alongside it this time is fascination. The door waits open. "My worst nightmares, Firo. The ones I could never remember on waking. All the worst moments of my life - and that is saying something. They all begin with that door. That place. I wish I could explain, Firo. You'll be wanting an explanation, and I don't think I'll be able to give it to you. I may not even be able to think on it."
"The center of everything. The legend. The one I followed half my life. Other men sought it too, other creatures, thinking what was at its top would make them into gods. I crossed time, and worlds- I gave up everything- I gave up everyone. But it never gave me up. Not when I begged, not when I screamed."
"But the end I was used for is past now. It's difficult for my head to hold all this at once, but I remember. For now, I remember. The light, the sound of the horn- just once, I only remember it the once. It was the end. My end."
"You say drugs. That I've been here all this time. Here, with you."
"I say that Panem could not send me back if they wanted to. It won't take me anymore. I've seen the end, and it has seen the end of me."
He looks away from the door. He hears it creak. He hears it shut. He pays it no mind.
"I say that I am FREE!" Firo's face may be too close to take a shout but Roland shouts it anyway, face breaking into his wide, widest grin, and he lets go of the leg of the bed, and he lets go of Firo's clothes and he moves to try and press his palms to either side of his dear friend's face. "For the rest of my life, however long or short that it may be. And after, whatever clearing awaits me at the end of my path. I am no tool of Gan, no servant of that which Is, and Was, and will be Again. I have no more part to play in the world's destiny than any other man. Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came. Childe Roland is dead, and it was you who woke me to his passing. You, Firo Prochainezo. You've done me a great service."
And here is where Firo had better hope he isn't too baffled by the world's most confusing speech to quickly act. Firo had better hope he can quickly act, that is, because if he does not, Roland might be about to kiss him. On the lips. Gently, briefly, with gratitude and love that is not intended to be in the slightest way romantic. This is the way of Roland's people, at times like this. Probably not, though, the way of Firo's. Roland is currently too moved to remember that. Perhaps someone ought to remind him.
in which roland is a bit silly
He's woolgathering. Isn't he? This isn't relevant, is it? "Drugs. This isn't, it isn't quite like mescaline, or like those others. Similar. Similar. It could be."
He looks over Firo's shoulder. The fear slips onto his face again, but alongside it this time is fascination. The door waits open. "My worst nightmares, Firo. The ones I could never remember on waking. All the worst moments of my life - and that is saying something. They all begin with that door. That place. I wish I could explain, Firo. You'll be wanting an explanation, and I don't think I'll be able to give it to you. I may not even be able to think on it."
"The center of everything. The legend. The one I followed half my life. Other men sought it too, other creatures, thinking what was at its top would make them into gods. I crossed time, and worlds- I gave up everything- I gave up everyone. But it never gave me up. Not when I begged, not when I screamed."
"But the end I was used for is past now. It's difficult for my head to hold all this at once, but I remember. For now, I remember. The light, the sound of the horn- just once, I only remember it the once. It was the end. My end."
"You say drugs. That I've been here all this time. Here, with you."
"I say that Panem could not send me back if they wanted to. It won't take me anymore. I've seen the end, and it has seen the end of me."
He looks away from the door. He hears it creak. He hears it shut. He pays it no mind.
"I say that I am FREE!" Firo's face may be too close to take a shout but Roland shouts it anyway, face breaking into his wide, widest grin, and he lets go of the leg of the bed, and he lets go of Firo's clothes and he moves to try and press his palms to either side of his dear friend's face. "For the rest of my life, however long or short that it may be. And after, whatever clearing awaits me at the end of my path. I am no tool of Gan, no servant of that which Is, and Was, and will be Again. I have no more part to play in the world's destiny than any other man. Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came. Childe Roland is dead, and it was you who woke me to his passing. You, Firo Prochainezo. You've done me a great service."
And here is where Firo had better hope he isn't too baffled by the world's most confusing speech to quickly act. Firo had better hope he can quickly act, that is, because if he does not, Roland might be about to kiss him. On the lips. Gently, briefly, with gratitude and love that is not intended to be in the slightest way romantic. This is the way of Roland's people, at times like this. Probably not, though, the way of Firo's. Roland is currently too moved to remember that. Perhaps someone ought to remind him.