[Myr's tone rises on the word, not to incredulity but near enough. Near enough, as he takes Everett's hands in both his own and holds tight.]
You are anything but a selfish man, Everett Vaughan. Fearing to love too deeply, [he sees you there, in spirit, even if he can't in flesh,] is a world away from being the sort of man who'd take me, or Sokie, or Viren and sacrifice us for magic.
[If he's strident it's because he loves Everett so fiercely, so dearly, that he will fight on his behalf. Even if he's fighting Everett for Everett's own honor.
He lifts one of his Bonded's hands to his lips, pressing them against Everett's knuckles in his own gesture of knightly esteem. Quietly, then, and more gently,]
Instead you've given me back something I thought irreplaceable, believing in me when I couldn't.
[Fearing to love too deeply- the strikes through Everett, an arrow through the center of his chest and out through his back, pinning him to his chair in perfect posture. As a man so wrapped up in words, always having a talent for them and using them as his very livelihood, that simple statement is so true it wounds him.
And in part, it heals him.
Or it will, with some time, some thought, some care, and some consideration. Myr continues to speak and Everett is silent, breath held until tears rolls down his cheeks and pool in his glasses. When words can finally form, he says nothing of himself, because oh....
His darling Myr.]
Of course I believe in you. You are irreplaceable. I could tell... [Everett repeats, quieter and fonder so very, very assured]
[There is a risk, Myr knows, in speaking the truth so boldly about another person. Even when it's a kind truth, kindly meant, it can still hurt...
But it's that, or knowing each day Everett is torturing himself by comparison to a loveless monster. Myr's seldom had a choice in starker relief, and it strips the razor edge of guilt from knowing he's landed a blow. (Has made Everett cry, though he cannot see that, doesn't yet know it.) Oh, there is pain in him for his beloved's pain, and sorrow to have worsened it, but it's a healer's sorrow and not a soldier's, knowing mending could come of the wound.]
Flatterer, [he breathes through a smile that's nigh on tears itself, and:] Thank you, dearheart. For that, and for all you are and all you've shared with me.
[He believes in you, Everett, you see, and he is so very good at fervent, heartfelt belief.]
And, [because he is also very, very good at curiosity,] all you will yet.
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faithlikeaseed) wrote2019-08-01 12:00 am
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[Myr's tone rises on the word, not to incredulity but near enough. Near enough, as he takes Everett's hands in both his own and holds tight.]
You are anything but a selfish man, Everett Vaughan. Fearing to love too deeply, [he sees you there, in spirit, even if he can't in flesh,] is a world away from being the sort of man who'd take me, or Sokie, or Viren and sacrifice us for magic.
[If he's strident it's because he loves Everett so fiercely, so dearly, that he will fight on his behalf. Even if he's fighting Everett for Everett's own honor.
He lifts one of his Bonded's hands to his lips, pressing them against Everett's knuckles in his own gesture of knightly esteem. Quietly, then, and more gently,]
Instead you've given me back something I thought irreplaceable, believing in me when I couldn't.
no subject
And in part, it heals him.
Or it will, with some time, some thought, some care, and some consideration. Myr continues to speak and Everett is silent, breath held until tears rolls down his cheeks and pool in his glasses. When words can finally form, he says nothing of himself, because oh....
His darling Myr.]
Of course I believe in you. You are irreplaceable. I could tell... [Everett repeats, quieter and fonder so very, very assured]
I could tell right away.
no subject
But it's that, or knowing each day Everett is torturing himself by comparison to a loveless monster. Myr's seldom had a choice in starker relief, and it strips the razor edge of guilt from knowing he's landed a blow. (Has made Everett cry, though he cannot see that, doesn't yet know it.) Oh, there is pain in him for his beloved's pain, and sorrow to have worsened it, but it's a healer's sorrow and not a soldier's, knowing mending could come of the wound.]
Flatterer, [he breathes through a smile that's nigh on tears itself, and:] Thank you, dearheart. For that, and for all you are and all you've shared with me.
[He believes in you, Everett, you see, and he is so very good at fervent, heartfelt belief.]
And, [because he is also very, very good at curiosity,] all you will yet.