corsaircourser:

My fic went sideways on me, not in a bad way, but differently than I was expecting, and I was trying to figure out why.  I was planning on witty banter, swordplay and sparring, and maybe some sexy making-out; what I ended up with was introspective and kind of quiet and all about love. 

And then it hit me, what was so different about those flashback scenes for me, and about Flint and Silver in them.  Flint was so gentle in them.  That rage and pain and violence that has been his hallmark for most of four seasons is nowhere to be seen, ever, at all.  He is measured, clever, smiling, a teacher.  His incredible fighting skills are shown in formal, measured paces. Silver lies to his face and he quietly insists on acknowledging it, but when Silver panics, he rushes to assure him, I’m not angry with you.  And he isn’t. He’s confused and curious and worried, but not angry. James Flint.  NOT ANGRY. And that’s enough to make us pause and think and really look at the scenes in an entirely different way, more carefully, because it’s unexpected and strangely precious, like we’re given a new glimpse into a character we feel like we already know so well.

And Silver.  He is not the Long John Silver we’ve seen all this season, tense and vicious and controlled.  He freaks out in about fifteen directions simultaneously as soon as he realizes the avenue the ‘past’ conversation is headed down, and you can almost watch him run through his deflections in order:  first, smile and flirt and offer an insincere alternative, then derail, then get indignant, then (for the first time) beg.  His voice when he said “why isn’t it true?” was so small and young it broke my heart.  He was honest, too, when he so quickly and hurriedly muttered “I don’t want you to know mine,” and it was raw like we’ve never seen from him.  Even his face is open, the expressions running across it for the world to see. He is uncertain and unsure, needing wisdom and validation and reassurance from Flint, and then he gets those things, and it’s both gorgeous and heartbreaking all at once.

So here we have two men, framed in these montages of training for war, but as gentle and honest and open as they’ve ever been with each other.  The dichotomy is striking and arresting and draws the eye and mind back again and again to marvel at it. 

The all-black outfits didn’t hurt either.

If Toby Stephens and Luke Arnold don’t get all the awards for this season, for the incredible nuance and depth and sheer soul they bring these characters, I swear to god, I’m gonna riot.