[Cerise is always there, and knowing that L's got a guardian of her caliber has been deeply reassuring to Myr over past weeks. More, knowing L's got a guardian who can swim, who navigates the Leviathan's territory with native grace, is comforting--for how often the detective's tried or thought about drowning himself, metaphorically or otherwise.
It is comforting to Myr, to know he has back-up, has other safeguards. Not only Cerise (to whom he extends a hand, not petting her without her permission but offering the touch), but Alex and Near and even Niles, who had eyes to see where he couldn't and their own concern for L to keep them sharp on watch.
But none of them could be sentinel against this particular situation, and none of them could unsnarl it for him. (Well--maybe Alex; she's the insight and kind heart for it. Involving her, however, would require overcoming both Witches' tendency toward pride and secrecy about what they have.) So, and so--he sits quietly as L talks, listening with both sharp ears and their Bond, and nudges a plate after the glass before he responds.
(All of this makes his heart ache to hear it--because his Bonded sits across from him, self-wounded, again. Because this isn't the whole of the truth. Because for every incremental step of progress they make, it feels like they lose two, some days, the bad days.
Because Light Yagami and the pervasive, distorting influence he has on every life he touches.
Myr must believe that they're going in the right direction, even so. She sent him back for more reasons than just Aefenglom's survival.)]
I convinced him to sleep it off; he'll likely be back to his old self tomorrow--though if he's not, I sent a request to Heafonlic's apothecary for enough cleansing draughts for both of you. [He could make that pointed; he does not, though it gouges him to know L has reason to suspect Light might come to grief in his care.]
You should have known--because it wasn't fantastical or obvious, just impossible?
[It isn't all being back in the shape of his birth that's sharpened Myr; he is a knight-enchanter again, and he has a mission he's keen-set on. The intensity's as much his native state as the cheeriness the Faun had brought out of him, and--forgive him, L--getting the proper balance between them might take a little while.]
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It is comforting to Myr, to know he has back-up, has other safeguards. Not only Cerise (to whom he extends a hand, not petting her without her permission but offering the touch), but Alex and Near and even Niles, who had eyes to see where he couldn't and their own concern for L to keep them sharp on watch.
But none of them could be sentinel against this particular situation, and none of them could unsnarl it for him. (Well--maybe Alex; she's the insight and kind heart for it. Involving her, however, would require overcoming both Witches' tendency toward pride and secrecy about what they have.) So, and so--he sits quietly as L talks, listening with both sharp ears and their Bond, and nudges a plate after the glass before he responds.
(All of this makes his heart ache to hear it--because his Bonded sits across from him, self-wounded, again. Because this isn't the whole of the truth. Because for every incremental step of progress they make, it feels like they lose two, some days, the bad days.
Because Light Yagami and the pervasive, distorting influence he has on every life he touches.
Myr must believe that they're going in the right direction, even so. She sent him back for more reasons than just Aefenglom's survival.)]
I convinced him to sleep it off; he'll likely be back to his old self tomorrow--though if he's not, I sent a request to Heafonlic's apothecary for enough cleansing draughts for both of you. [He could make that pointed; he does not, though it gouges him to know L has reason to suspect Light might come to grief in his care.]
You should have known--because it wasn't fantastical or obvious, just impossible?
[It isn't all being back in the shape of his birth that's sharpened Myr; he is a knight-enchanter again, and he has a mission he's keen-set on. The intensity's as much his native state as the cheeriness the Faun had brought out of him, and--forgive him, L--getting the proper balance between them might take a little while.]