[ The source of Roland's pain has always been William - what he could not do for him, what he failed to do for him. A finality that he tries to overcome with every day that he works for a greater good, knowing that it may not end the way his heart desires. But what was a father if not the last person on this earth to stop believing for his child? What was he if not the picture of determination? This, he'll hold on to for the rest of his waking life, no matter what.
But it's also why he can't bring himself to tell Inigo more - despite the promise of brotherhood, or the promise to bring him to his home. Why it pains him still, to remember that his son was suffering. Suffered. Why he found it so easy to see Evan as William, until the kid who would be king stood on his own and defied a darkness even Roland almost succumbed to.
One day. One day, soon. A step at a time. ]
Chrom, huh?
[ He lets the name simmer on his tongue, says it again and again, committing to memory. ] Chrom and Olivia. Olivia and Chrom. [ Inigo's birth parents. Both gone now, both giving their lives for him and his sister. The respect that he feels for them swells in his chest. He tilts his head up, thinking. Wondering that if he ever got the chance, he would tell them their son grew up so well, even if he had to face so much back in Ylisse. That Inigo was a fighter. And that he was kind, most of all. The kindest he'd ever met, second only to Evan himself. ]
[ When he looks at Inigo again, he smiles widely, pretending to tilt his head from side to side as if studying the boy in a new light. In a way, he really was! If Inigo was a splitting image of his father...]
...Hm. I think you look better than him. [ He nods, determined. ] I don't need to see him to know that. You've got your mom's genes in you too, y'know? That tops the king's looks any day. [ And this is Roland's small little way of gauging that; the hesitation, the stark difference in how Inigo talks of Olivia versus how he's mentioning Chrom. He passed away when he was young, that much he knows, Inigo sharing it to him once. But there's a lack of warmth there, a lack of even fond remembrance that he can recognize a mile away. ]
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But it's also why he can't bring himself to tell Inigo more - despite the promise of brotherhood, or the promise to bring him to his home. Why it pains him still, to remember that his son was suffering. Suffered. Why he found it so easy to see Evan as William, until the kid who would be king stood on his own and defied a darkness even Roland almost succumbed to.
One day. One day, soon. A step at a time. ]
Chrom, huh?
[ He lets the name simmer on his tongue, says it again and again, committing to memory. ] Chrom and Olivia. Olivia and Chrom. [ Inigo's birth parents. Both gone now, both giving their lives for him and his sister. The respect that he feels for them swells in his chest. He tilts his head up, thinking. Wondering that if he ever got the chance, he would tell them their son grew up so well, even if he had to face so much back in Ylisse. That Inigo was a fighter. And that he was kind, most of all. The kindest he'd ever met, second only to Evan himself. ]
[ When he looks at Inigo again, he smiles widely, pretending to tilt his head from side to side as if studying the boy in a new light. In a way, he really was! If Inigo was a splitting image of his father...]
...Hm. I think you look better than him. [ He nods, determined. ] I don't need to see him to know that. You've got your mom's genes in you too, y'know? That tops the king's looks any day. [ And this is Roland's small little way of gauging that; the hesitation, the stark difference in how Inigo talks of Olivia versus how he's mentioning Chrom. He passed away when he was young, that much he knows, Inigo sharing it to him once. But there's a lack of warmth there, a lack of even fond remembrance that he can recognize a mile away. ]