[It is a long path--and the wrong time to contemplate the length of it, and all the very many stops they must make along the way, is when Myr is exhausted. Even so, he's a moment from protesting L's insistence that he sleep--it's right there, in the Bond and on the tip of his tongue--before he gives a sighing laugh and relents.

Not without some humor, though:]

Tie you up while I'm sleeping? That's a shameful waste; I'd far rather be awake for that.

[Half-meant, half-teasing, but entirely fond, though he's tired enough (and their Bond so precious a thing to him) that it's more a shell of a faun's fabled lust than the thing itself.

Still...

He picks himself up out of his chair at that thought, collecting the last of the bread to deliver to the wormipede that comes padding into the kitchen.]

But you're right, [he picks up, after a moment,] that all can wait; and I would sleep easier with you there.

[Tacit invitation to share the bed they have so many times before. That much at least has not changed for all the bruises to Myr's trust.]