fandomhigh | Practical Philosophy, Monday

"There are those of us who come here believing very strongly in duty," Ender said. "Others who come here to escape it - and some to who it's absolutely not a part of their lives."

He smiled a little.

"I had a mentor, once," he said. "I was told that people were free, unless humanity needed them, and that humanity never asked us to be happy, merely to act on its behalf - for its survival. Happiness, he felt, was a luxury that at times we could scarcely afford. To opt out of doing our duty at such a time was the worst crime imaginable: a crime of stupidity."

He took a sip of water. "I've met people who disagreed, since," he said. "I've also met people whose lives were so intricately bound to these rules they didn't even know where they stopped and the rules began. Some of you have already made your views fairly clear already, but I'm curious as to everyone else's input, too.

"How important is duty? Do we people all carry some grand responsibility to our species, or should we exist only for ourselves and the development of our self? And if we live for duty, then when does that end? Is there some point where all of us may be afforded personal freedom, or are we perpetually tied to our responsibilities, whether we flee from them or not?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yes," Elsa agreed, her voice gentling a little. She knew issues when she saw them. She had more than a few of her own. "Because my name came up in the genetic lottery. Because while I'm not so vain as to think that I'm the only person who can possibly step into that position when it's my turn to do so, I do acknowledge that this responsibility is what I've been raised for. Because as far as I'm aware, there isn't anyone else in line to do this who is actually ready for that role, and I care too much about my people to leave them with anything less than somebody who knows what Arendelle needs."

Honestly, Elsa, if people hadn't guessed that you were a princess by now, they were almost certainly not listening to you.

"Well, you've been trained," Cade said with a little shrug. "Some people aren't, or might not be great at it anyway."

Not about you, Cade.

"There are still things that I won in the 'genetic lottery' that I struggle with," Elsa noted. "But I'm not going to run from this. That doesn't mean I expect everybody else who might be in line for something to step up and take a position they're not ready for, though."

There was a long pause, while she tried to figure out how to ask this without seeming, outright, like she was asking it. After a moment, she gave up and just said what was on her mind.

"What sort of legacy are you afraid you won't live up to?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, pateesa," Cade said. "I'm not a secret prince or anything."

Elsa frowned a little at the unfamiliar word, and a little more at the implied meaning of it.

"I never said you were," she replied, evenly. "But you're clearly afraid of something that comes from having the wrong last name."

Cade shot a quick look at Ender, then shrugged again. "I've seen people get buried by the weight of family expectations, that's all. Pressure to go into the family business."

Elsa's smile went a touch wry at that.

"So you asked me why I felt responsible to step up to the position I was born into out of a concern for my ability to handle the pressure?"

She did not actually think this was the case.

"Felt it was responsibility to ask," Cade replied dryly.

"Well, then," Elsa replied, just a touch primly, "I thank you for taking an interest in the matter, and I assure you, I'm quite certain that I'm capable of taking care of my responsibilities without being crushed under the weight of them."

Yeah, Elsa. About that...

Cade winked at her. "Good to hear."

Aaaand that was about the moment that Elsa's cheeks went a little more pink than usual, and she gave a decisive nod. She didn't have a verbal reply to that, because any other attempts at piecing together words would probably immediately be followed by a flustered, "Wait, what?"

Elsa had no idea what to do with a wink like that. Absolutely none.

Then the flirty grin absolutely wouldn't help matters, huh?

"Don't worry about it."

You were going to break her brain, Cade. You were going to take what few bits Joker hadn't shamelessly flirted at and just leave her jabbering incoherently, weren't you?

"Oh, believe me, I'm trying not to."

That was not an awkward squeak. Honest.

Cade burst out laughing. "Hasn't anyone ever flirted with you before, pateesa? Seems like a waste."

"You'd be the second," Elsa admitted, blushing a little more furiously, now. "Ever."

Congratulations, Cade!

"Are people all blind in Arendelle?" Cade asked.

"They just can't see through walls," Elsa countered, her blush really going nowhere fast. "I don't get out much."

At all. Same thing.

"You should," Cade said with a wink. "Really."

They were outside and there were no desks for Elsa to hide under until the class period ended and she was being flirted with by Cade, who was unbearably attractive and was it warm out here? Because there were little fragments of ice floating around in her water bottle right then.

Help.

"Thank you, Cade," she managed, striving desperately to go for 'poised' and mostly just managing 'flustered.' "I'll think about it."

It would be most unladylike to lock herself in her dorm room closet after class, never to come out again. Anyway, snow queens and wardrobes didn't tend to mix well.

Practical Philosophy, Monday

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.

Re: Talk.