I know why they used Ryne against me. There's one way the sight of her could hurt me that the sight of you couldn't, and it's naught to do with importance.
...Not in so many words. But I did tell you about our journey to the end of the universe, and the alternative plan that wouldn't have saved...everyone.
[He hesitates a bit.]
She's family. Or the closest thing I've left to it, at least. She's a child, only some fifteen summers — I suppose I'm something of a father to her. A protector, certainly. But her home is on one of the shards, across the rift, and as it presently stands the rift can't be traversed. 'Twas likely I'd never have seen her again even if my untimely demise hadn't intervened, and when the end of days came, she...she wasn't included in the plan for salvation. How could they, with no way to reach her?
[He shakes his head slightly.]
My personal tormentors used her because to have seen her here at all would have to mean she was dead. That she died and I wasn't there. That she died and someone thought she belonged here. That's why.
-you were separated from her before you even died, then. No way to check in on her to ensure she's all right.
[or to see her grow, when he clearly considers her to be his family, calls himself a father to her. that's-- he can't imagine something like that, having to give it up.]
Mmhmm. That we were taken there at all is a...complicated tale. But I spent five years there, and that our fates turned out to be intertwined during that time was no coincidence. But I and my comrades were not of that shard, and the manner in which we were taken there had rendered us...incomplete. It would have torn our souls asunder to have remained for much longer.
[He shrugs slightly.]
Bixing saw a memory of her, those few sennights ago. Not one I'm proud of by any means, and certainly not one I would've cared for anyone to witness, but — I couldn't even bring myself to be angry about it. I was too caught up just with seeing her face again.
...once you get out of here- [because it has to be that, now, he's gone and gotten attached, he won't think about them failing,] -there has to be some way to send you there again. Complete, this time.
[Oh, he thinks to himself, as though he knows what's going on here. Oh, you've tread too close to implying commitment, and after the phantoms that plagued him while he was gone and his existing deep-seated traumas about Aren, it's all just too much. Implications of attachment are too much. Better to walk them back.]
I didn't mean it as an imposition. Just that — a mere expression of your importance. I would want the two of you to know one another because I care deeply for the both of you. You needn't take it for a...a demand of any sort.
[he pauses to consider, brows furrowed in thought, ears flicking.]
...I've just realized we've been teaching and learning our languages for days now, and spoken of what might happen after we escape this place, but we've never once asked what we even are to each other.
[...he's a little speechless at first, at that. for him to not offer any of the answers ryn might have expected, to call him my heart in his own language while he's at it--
just the man who made him believe he didn't have to be alone. that's all he says he wants, not to be his partner, not to be anything to him that has its own name.]
[I think you already are, Ryn murmurs, and he finds himself thinking of weeks and conversations past, of how they've gone from comfort offered in the form of I won't look at you if you don't want me to to cuddled tight together in the restorative waters of the onsen, bare as their namedays. From I don't want sweet nothings from anyone to unthinking pet names to deliberate endearments that aren't pushed away. From dreading the remains of a too-long and too-lonely existence to daring to consider a "what comes after".
It would be enough, he'd just offered a moment before, and for a moment beyond that, he thinks, ...wouldn't it?
Slowly, he turns his head a fraction, angling it to show off the silver ring pierced through the left lobe. It's less sore now than it was when they'd done it, but still fresh enough that he sometimes finds the new weight of it in his ear unusual.]
For days, I've been thinking of this as your claim on me. Was I wrong...?
...not exactly wrong. Suppose it is, in a way, but I...
[he's quiet for a few moments, deciding how he wants to put this.]
I wanted you to have something of mine. Something of me, in case. That was what it was.
['in case' of what, exactly, he doesn't specify, but-- there are multiple answers. in case he dies. in case they're separated another way. in case they can't see each other again, whatever happens.
it's a reminder, for any of those situations, that this happened at all. that they were here, he was here, so he won't be forgotten. and there's some possessiveness in it too, there is truth to that, but it on its own wasn't the motivating factor.]
[Like a ring on a chain, he thinks with quiet solemnity, and isn't sure what he thinks of that notion to begin with. Certainly it's one of the things that's kept him from returning the gesture for Rynlan, himself: the lingering question of whether it would hurt too much, bring up too many painful associations with Aren when there are already too many as it is.]
[it's the most honest answer he can really give, as much as it isn't a full answer at all. ]
I want you to be here, I suppose. [is where he starts, slightly hesitant, piecing the words together as he goes.] And if we could manage it, I'd like you to be here after, but I don't know what to do with things like-- you saying you don't know if you'd want to live longer than is natural for you, or the idea of being in your home without you there.
[He begins, equally slowly, as he shifts the angle he's sitting at and brings his hands up to hold Ryn's face on either side, droplets of water cascading off his hands and in trails back down his wrists as he pulls them free of the onsen's surface.]
I shy away from making promises to you if I'm unsure I can keep them, because a broken promise would hurt you more than any relief you took from my making it. And sometimes I worry that what you want is...
[He goes quiet; ultimately, he proves unwilling to finish that sentence at all.]
Let me ask this instead, then. Do you like the feelings you have for me? Does it please you to have them, do I...does feeling what you feel for me make you happy?
[he lets himself lean into the touch, a bit-- it's a point of focus, of grounding, something he still needs after everything he's gone through today.]
...you do.
[rynlan doesn't really think of it in terms of his own feelings making him happy, or pleasing him. that one's a little harder to pick apart. but thancred-- thancred does. his presence, the easy affection he offers, the patience and care with which he handles ryn until he's ready for something.]
What is it you're worried about-- that what I'd want would be more than you're willing to give?
[It's not a nuance he misses, either — that the answer should've been they do, and in fact what he was offered was, you do.]
'Tis not that I'm unwilling, always. But...
[He closes his eyes.]
I worry sometimes that what you want is an elf from your own star. That wanting my life extended is — that I would be a sufficient replacement for someone else, if only some few small adaptations could be made. That — 'tis not really about more time with me. I fear sometimes I never know how much of your feelings are really about me or if...if I just fill a void well.
[he looks-- surprised to hear that, actually, ears twitching, eyes a little wide. he wouldn't have guessed thancred ever worried about being a replacement, or just-- filling a void at his side.
reassurances can be an empty thing, he knows, so he opts for something else instead, reaching up to touch the ring on its chain around his neck. he never takes it off, even now.]
...it would do him a disservice, if that were all this was about. I don't-- I would never want to replace him.
I loved him. I still do. He knew me when I was at my worst, and he stayed, he still wanted to stay despite that. Saved my life in more ways than just giving up his own. There isn't anyone in my world or any other who could replace what he was to me.
[He's quiet for what feels like a long time, but maybe isn't very long at all. Long enough to think twice about what's sitting on the tip of his tongue. Long enough to know better. Long enough to talk himself out of voicing it.]
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[Drowned in a WHAT NOW.]
I know why they used Ryne against me. There's one way the sight of her could hurt me that the sight of you couldn't, and it's naught to do with importance.
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[is what he eventually says, setting aside about five different possible kneejerk responses to say this instead.]
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[He hesitates a bit.]
She's family. Or the closest thing I've left to it, at least. She's a child, only some fifteen summers — I suppose I'm something of a father to her. A protector, certainly. But her home is on one of the shards, across the rift, and as it presently stands the rift can't be traversed. 'Twas likely I'd never have seen her again even if my untimely demise hadn't intervened, and when the end of days came, she...she wasn't included in the plan for salvation. How could they, with no way to reach her?
[He shakes his head slightly.]
My personal tormentors used her because to have seen her here at all would have to mean she was dead. That she died and I wasn't there. That she died and someone thought she belonged here. That's why.
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[or to see her grow, when he clearly considers her to be his family, calls himself a father to her. that's-- he can't imagine something like that, having to give it up.]
Were you forced to leave that shard...?
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[He shrugs slightly.]
Bixing saw a memory of her, those few sennights ago. Not one I'm proud of by any means, and certainly not one I would've cared for anyone to witness, but — I couldn't even bring myself to be angry about it. I was too caught up just with seeing her face again.
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[He glances away, eyes closing briefly.]
I want her to meet you. For you to know her.
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Why shouldn't I?
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[his hair tentacles wriggle. it's a certain kind of step, isn't it?]
We're not even together, exactly.
[WEEK SIX AND THEY HAVE NEVER DISCUSSED THIS]
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[Oh, he thinks to himself, as though he knows what's going on here. Oh, you've tread too close to implying commitment, and after the phantoms that plagued him while he was gone and his existing deep-seated traumas about Aren, it's all just too much. Implications of attachment are too much. Better to walk them back.]
I didn't mean it as an imposition. Just that — a mere expression of your importance. I would want the two of you to know one another because I care deeply for the both of you. You needn't take it for a...a demand of any sort.
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[he pauses to consider, brows furrowed in thought, ears flicking.]
...I've just realized we've been teaching and learning our languages for days now, and spoken of what might happen after we escape this place, but we've never once asked what we even are to each other.
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Do you know what you would have us be?
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[...he's a little speechless at first, at that. for him to not offer any of the answers ryn might have expected, to call him my heart in his own language while he's at it--
just the man who made him believe he didn't have to be alone. that's all he says he wants, not to be his partner, not to be anything to him that has its own name.]
...I think you already are.
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It would be enough, he'd just offered a moment before, and for a moment beyond that, he thinks, ...wouldn't it?
Slowly, he turns his head a fraction, angling it to show off the silver ring pierced through the left lobe. It's less sore now than it was when they'd done it, but still fresh enough that he sometimes finds the new weight of it in his ear unusual.]
For days, I've been thinking of this as your claim on me. Was I wrong...?
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[he's quiet for a few moments, deciding how he wants to put this.]
I wanted you to have something of mine. Something of me, in case. That was what it was.
['in case' of what, exactly, he doesn't specify, but-- there are multiple answers. in case he dies. in case they're separated another way. in case they can't see each other again, whatever happens.
it's a reminder, for any of those situations, that this happened at all. that they were here, he was here, so he won't be forgotten. and there's some possessiveness in it too, there is truth to that, but it on its own wasn't the motivating factor.]
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You never answered my question, you know.
[He points out, softly.]
What do you want me to be to you, Ryn?
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[it's the most honest answer he can really give, as much as it isn't a full answer at all. ]
I want you to be here, I suppose. [is where he starts, slightly hesitant, piecing the words together as he goes.] And if we could manage it, I'd like you to be here after, but I don't know what to do with things like-- you saying you don't know if you'd want to live longer than is natural for you, or the idea of being in your home without you there.
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[He begins, equally slowly, as he shifts the angle he's sitting at and brings his hands up to hold Ryn's face on either side, droplets of water cascading off his hands and in trails back down his wrists as he pulls them free of the onsen's surface.]
I shy away from making promises to you if I'm unsure I can keep them, because a broken promise would hurt you more than any relief you took from my making it. And sometimes I worry that what you want is...
[He goes quiet; ultimately, he proves unwilling to finish that sentence at all.]
Let me ask this instead, then. Do you like the feelings you have for me? Does it please you to have them, do I...does feeling what you feel for me make you happy?
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...you do.
[rynlan doesn't really think of it in terms of his own feelings making him happy, or pleasing him. that one's a little harder to pick apart. but thancred-- thancred does. his presence, the easy affection he offers, the patience and care with which he handles ryn until he's ready for something.]
What is it you're worried about-- that what I'd want would be more than you're willing to give?
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'Tis not that I'm unwilling, always. But...
[He closes his eyes.]
I worry sometimes that what you want is an elf from your own star. That wanting my life extended is — that I would be a sufficient replacement for someone else, if only some few small adaptations could be made. That — 'tis not really about more time with me. I fear sometimes I never know how much of your feelings are really about me or if...if I just fill a void well.
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[he looks-- surprised to hear that, actually, ears twitching, eyes a little wide. he wouldn't have guessed thancred ever worried about being a replacement, or just-- filling a void at his side.
reassurances can be an empty thing, he knows, so he opts for something else instead, reaching up to touch the ring on its chain around his neck. he never takes it off, even now.]
...it would do him a disservice, if that were all this was about. I don't-- I would never want to replace him.
I loved him. I still do. He knew me when I was at my worst, and he stayed, he still wanted to stay despite that. Saved my life in more ways than just giving up his own. There isn't anyone in my world or any other who could replace what he was to me.
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Do you love me?
[And then he didn't.]
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