This entire scene emotionally destroyed me but there's one part in particular that was like taking a knife to an already open wound.
So, Gon shuts down after the reveal that Kite was dead all along and his stunned and racing mind is disjointed and contradictory. Most of his statements fit into roughly three categories of desperate thoughts:
Vehement inability to process that Kite is dead. From the statement being repeated multiple times to the amount of "no"s everywhere on these pages.
Taking the blame for Kite's death, in a frankly horrifying show of self-hatred (especially given the context of what comes next).
Blaming Pitou and proclaiming that he "didn't do it" in an attempt to absolve the weight of his guilt.
Heartbreaking. But there's one thought here that's a bit different.
Throughout all of this, Gon has been adamant that Kite, and by extension the situation, can be "fixed" - after all, most every issue that's come up before on his adventures could be resolved nicely. But now, suddenly, it can't. Gon can't stand feeling powerless or helpless, and now he finds himself more helpless than he's ever been. And we get this.
"Somebody help me."
Gon is independent. Gon has a burning need to prove his worth through his own strength. Gon has a bad habit of equating "taking responsibility" with fixing things all by himself and rejecting help from others.
Gon has never pleaded for someone to save him before.
And it's just. Holy shit. Holy shit - he's a kid. He's just a kid. And in just a few pages, he's going to make a despair-fueled decision to throw away his life just to regain any semblance of power over a situation that was doomed to be unfixable from the start. He says, "Let it end. I don't care what happens to me now.", because this is the only way he can think of to make his pain and his guilt and Pitou all just stop, by losing himself to all of his power instead of his grief.
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The skies around them roar.
Dragons, Finarfin's mind pounds, and there's a dark, cursed screech behind his back. He locks gazes with his captain. Her face is pale in the sudden flash of fire, her hands clench the horse's reins. There is mute horror in her eyes.
The dragon is closer and closer. Finarfin thinks the ground shakes beneath him.
Deldhineth, he calls. He can feel dragon's hot breath behind. Deldhineth. Take them to safety. Make sure they stay alive.
Deldhineth looks at him, grips her reins, and nods. Then she straightens and yells a few orders. Finarfin takes a breath.
His horse neighs in panic when he turns around and directs it straight to the approaching beast. It turns away and flees the second Finarfin jumps to the ground.
The king grips his spear. The dragon is closer and closer, its breath burning with fire, its eyes mad and cruel.
Finarfin lunges forward and Sings, harsh and desperate and powerful. The dragon roars in pain and anger, its wings spreading to the sky, and Finarfin has mere seconds to spare before it springs down, its jaws clenching in bare inches from him. Its breath reeks, and Finarfin's lungs burn with acid. He jumps to the side, tries to pierce the dragon's neck with his spear. It has no success. The dragon moves back in a smooth movement, and Finarfin catches its eye.
He catches its eye.
He catches
its
eye.
~
"Deldhineth?"
"My Lord!"
"Deldhineth, where is your King?"
"The dragon- it chased us-"
"Where is Finarfin, Deldhineth?!"
"Dead!" she laughs madly, her eyes dark with horror. "Dead, or dying!"
Eönwë spreads his wings and takes off to the sky.
~
It's quiet.
Finarfin looks into the dragon's eyes, entralled by its hypnotic gaze. There's dark, thick smoke around him; he can't hear the battle, can't feel the wind, can't see the stars.
He sways. The dragon purrs, tilting its head slightly. Well met, Arafinwë.
Finarfin's lips are dry. He hears his own breath.
It's alright. You need not your weapon. Lower it.
He grips his spear harder, though each movement requires massive amount of willpower. His eyes are heavy, still trained on that predatory gaze.
Something shifts in the smoke. A shadow emerges from it and disappears as quickly.
The monster's eyes glow in the dark.
Finarfin wants to sleep.
~
The skies are roaring around him, and Eönwë curses his luck.
Arafinwë!
He hates flying in the rain. It gets in his eyes and messes up his feathers. He also hates flying while there are dragons all around him who all think he is an excellent snack.
Dragons! They should've expected dragons! It all was going so smooth - they were so close to their goal!
Arafinwë! he calls again, and there's a weak response this time.
Too weak, Eönwë thinks desperately, and falls down through the clouds to the flaming battlefield.
~
Well, aren't you just precious? the dragon giggles. You're shiny. I hope Father lets me keep you in my hoard.
Finarfin tries to move, but his body is numb and heavy. Weak groan leaves his lips.
A shadow comes from behind him, and touches his wrist. It flinches immediately, as if expecting Finarfin to fight back - the elf simply sways, gripping his weapon for balance.
The eyes move closer. Father said he'd take good care of you. He said you'll serve him well.
(Finarfin sees himself in black robes, hair kept together with an extravagant circlet; he stands by a stone throne, his cold eyes stare in the distance. Then, there's another picture - he's beaten and chained, hair matted and skin split; he doesn't know which vision terrifies him more, doesn't know if they terrify him at all.)
Something touches his fingers. He can't fight back when they're pried open.
His spear falls to the ground without a sound.
The eyes gleam with amusement.
~
There's a giant darkness in the middle of a field. Eönwë forces himslef to remain calm. He can see the lines of a dragon inside it. His blood runs cold at the thought of being too late, but he can still feel Arafinwë's ósanwë pulsing faintly. He takes a breath and sends a prayer to Manwë.
I'm coming. My friend, I'm coming.
~
The shadow clouds his mind.
Finarfin can recognize it, but he's too weak to fight. Its fingers find his wrists, lift them carefully.
A rope ties around them. Finarfin tries to fight back, but simply sways. The shadow catches him, and Finarfin can only stare as it starts whispering, enchanting his mind.
Arafinwë!
He groans. He feels tired- so tired- surely, he can fall asleep?
Arafinwë!
He remembers his childhood, the way his mother would hold him close and how his father would tell him fairytales. The shadow hushes in his ear and lifts him up.
"Arafinwë!" Eönwë shouts desperately, and it all comes crashing back.
~
He attacks the shadowy-looking Maia first, and they screech, letting Finarfin fall from their hold. Eönwë shines like a star, powerful and full of rage.
Arafinwë, he thinks to the unmoving elf, and tries not to think about the lack of response. Arafinwë. I'll get us out of here, I promise.
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