[Myr's choice is unshakeable, more than L's; the Bond isn't even necessary to realize it. It's in the way he holds L back, the firmness in his voice, small but absolute tells that he doesn't mean to renege on his pledge. It's more than the detective really deserves, to the point where he wonders what masterful, if unintentional, manipulation has led to this upsetting juncture.
It wouldn't be upsetting, under any other circumstance. His bony body is as starved for touch as it is for actual, non-sugar nutrients, and he could wilt and nestle into Myr's arms for hours if allowed. But the faun's next words cause him to grow tense and rigid, not drawing away, but only because the instinct was scarcely suppressed.
Close to Myr's ear, there's a shallow exhalation, then brisk, frantic shaking of L's shaggy head.]
No, that... isn't right.
[It's the same tone one might use with a child who's made an understandable mathematical error, that is frustratingly dense all the same.]
He's going to kill me, if he bests me. He'd... really have to.
[He rattles off the words in a low monotone, as though calculating the odds of survival, disappointment, and... well, horrific retaliation carried out in a dreamlike state of involuntary, unrelenting cruelty.]
Myr, it's OK... I-
[Won't let you down, again.]
--I'll make sure he does more than he intends to. He's emotional and volatile; I can upset him to the point of fury and carelessness. I... can be a real prick, you know.
[Myr's rebuke is sharp and instant as the unsheathing of a sword; the anger that ripples and flares along their Bond likewise. For as much as he wants, achingly, to speak of none of this in favor of holding his Bonded in close and wordless comfort--it will only delay the problem, only make it worse, if he defers to address it now.
Because the path he's chosen to walk at L's side is long, and full of reversals. There will be missteps, deliberate and not; there will be stumbles, and they will have no small consequences when his Bonded is both so brilliant and ruthless as L is. There will be future moments of disappointment, despair, and they may not survive them if L's first instinct is to respond to his own monstrousness with a dart toward the nearest ledge, lake, or furious Chimera.
They may not even survive the next two weeks, no matter what Myr chooses to do now, but above and beyond all else he must claw for some kind of hope in the situation. He must act as if they will. And so he moves only far enough from his Bonded that they can stand face to face; he lifts his chin, even if he's off-angle, even if he can't meet L's gaze, he will act as if and let it carry him.]
You will not, [he repeats, more softly.] Because your death would be a shameful, awful waste with neither justice nor redemption in it.
[In no small part because you will take half my heart with you, should you die.]
What you did to Niles was indefensible. [The words are blunt. The emotion behind them is not crushing disappointment nor horror; it is not acceptance, either, but a quiet rejection of the act without turning aside the man who did it. It was not good you did this. I don't like it. But I love you no less.] You wounded yourself as much as him with it and you believe yourself unrecoverable.
You are not. Do you understand? You are not past redeeming, but destroying yourself for your sins isn't penance, any more than what you let Mello do to you.
[A breath, then, and his tone becomes more impassioned:] Nor what Niles will do to you. And if, [when,] he should get you from my side, do all you can to win free of him. Fight,amatus, for my sake if not your own.
You do not owe him this.
[Whatever else L owed--that ledger was far from balanced--he did not owe Niles his death or suffering; on that much Myr is adamant.]
[Whatever L was expecting out of Myr's reaction, it was something else. Melancholy acceptance, perhaps, even some kind of bittersweet relief. L has offered to remove the conflict so that the venom can drain away in its own time. Painful, perhaps, but ultimately necessary for whatever is left to heal.
Dazed, he blinks back at the face of what does come, and all of it is so difficult to package up neatly, put in a box with a label and shelved for later analysis. In realtime, it requires prompt reaction, and there is simply no way to react promptly to what is perhaps L's first genuine, full realization that there is more to his human worth than the sum of his actions, alone. At least in the eyes of his Bonded, one cruel turn wasn't cause to condemn, or approve of repayment in flesh or blood.
He thinks he understands. Myr's fierce words, tone and posture communicate ultimate sincerity. His anger is real, his passion a force to reckon with, and it's unnerving to L. Passion is spectacular; it can also be dangerous, when expressed by people who would probably be better off kept in a closed box for their entire lives.]
I don't want to die here, any more than I did back home.
[It's just that acceptance makes what feels inevitable a bit easier.]
I don't want to kill, either. You won't hate me, if "all I can do" results in something really...?
[It is a good point L raises: Is that not, of course, the crux of his Bonded's fear? Myr ducks his head in acknowledgment of that, though his verbal response is slower in coming.]
I will not hate you, [he says, at length, lifting his chin. He raises a hand to L's face, feeling to rest his palm against the curve of his Bonded's cheek.] Because I was raised to kill when I must, and war's never fair.
But, [a slow breath out,] there are laws in war and I would ask you not use that memory against him again, if you hold back nothing else. And if you must kill, kill cleanly.
Can you do that?
[There is something--deeply interesting--going on in the Bond between them, something he cannot resolve by feeling into it with half his attention. Even though he hasn't the facility to understand what's changed, it yet feels like a kind of hope to him. Something's made a difference. Something's begun to grow.
[Myr's acknowledgment of L's point, prolonged and thoughtful as it is, doesn't raise anxiousness on L's part. No, it's a sign that his concerns are being taken seriously, respected for the monsters they might mutate into if left unchecked.
With his palm resting against L's cheek, the faun will be able to feel a subtle, slow nod.]
I think so.
[He's as certain as he can possibly be, for one who has never taken a life directly before.]
[Myr rubs his thumb over the too-sharp curve of his Bonded's cheekbone, fond and gentle.]
I think, [softly now,] we ought to give the Coven their room back.
Come home with me? [An offer, not a demand. Even feeling what he does through their Bond, even having just ordered L to avoid his own death, he will not demand in this.]
My dreams have been, [nightmare-haunted, distressing,] lonely, of late.
[Even L's presence in his bed--let alone those dreams--would be proof against the worst of it. He misses it sore.]
[It's difficult not to melt into the contact, as soft and subtle as it is. He missed this, in a way that he only properly realizes after feeling it again after a long absence.]
Could I?
[Just for the night, of course. L never stays more than two of them consecutively with Myr, afraid to impose... but his current lifestyle would be hard even on a completely healthy body. Resting anywhere is a tempting offer, and resting alongside his Bonded is irresistible.]
[Whether it's for the night or--Myr would dearly wish, but knows better than to hope--much longer, L's welcome in his home... And not nearly so much of an imposition as the detective supposes. (Impose more, a part of Myr always, always wants to ask, but forebears. Though after the particular success he's had here in simply taking charge...perhaps not for much longer.)]
Let's go--straight there. We can both use the rest.
[Welcome home, L. He's missed this, too.]
Edited (finally noticed i had the wRONG ICON...... dang) 2020-05-23 03:37 (UTC)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It wouldn't be upsetting, under any other circumstance. His bony body is as starved for touch as it is for actual, non-sugar nutrients, and he could wilt and nestle into Myr's arms for hours if allowed. But the faun's next words cause him to grow tense and rigid, not drawing away, but only because the instinct was scarcely suppressed.
Close to Myr's ear, there's a shallow exhalation, then brisk, frantic shaking of L's shaggy head.]
No, that... isn't right.
[It's the same tone one might use with a child who's made an understandable mathematical error, that is frustratingly dense all the same.]
He's going to kill me, if he bests me. He'd... really have to.
[He rattles off the words in a low monotone, as though calculating the odds of survival, disappointment, and... well, horrific retaliation carried out in a dreamlike state of involuntary, unrelenting cruelty.]
Myr, it's OK... I-
[Won't let you down, again.]
--I'll make sure he does more than he intends to. He's emotional and volatile; I can upset him to the point of fury and carelessness. I... can be a real prick, you know.
no subject
[Myr's rebuke is sharp and instant as the unsheathing of a sword; the anger that ripples and flares along their Bond likewise. For as much as he wants, achingly, to speak of none of this in favor of holding his Bonded in close and wordless comfort--it will only delay the problem, only make it worse, if he defers to address it now.
Because the path he's chosen to walk at L's side is long, and full of reversals. There will be missteps, deliberate and not; there will be stumbles, and they will have no small consequences when his Bonded is both so brilliant and ruthless as L is. There will be future moments of disappointment, despair, and they may not survive them if L's first instinct is to respond to his own monstrousness with a dart toward the nearest ledge, lake, or furious Chimera.
They may not even survive the next two weeks, no matter what Myr chooses to do now, but above and beyond all else he must claw for some kind of hope in the situation. He must act as if they will. And so he moves only far enough from his Bonded that they can stand face to face; he lifts his chin, even if he's off-angle, even if he can't meet L's gaze, he will act as if and let it carry him.]
You will not, [he repeats, more softly.] Because your death would be a shameful, awful waste with neither justice nor redemption in it.
[In no small part because you will take half my heart with you, should you die.]
What you did to Niles was indefensible. [The words are blunt. The emotion behind them is not crushing disappointment nor horror; it is not acceptance, either, but a quiet rejection of the act without turning aside the man who did it. It was not good you did this. I don't like it. But I love you no less.] You wounded yourself as much as him with it and you believe yourself unrecoverable.
You are not. Do you understand? You are not past redeeming, but destroying yourself for your sins isn't penance, any more than what you let Mello do to you.
[A breath, then, and his tone becomes more impassioned:] Nor what Niles will do to you. And if, [when,] he should get you from my side, do all you can to win free of him. Fight, amatus, for my sake if not your own.
You do not owe him this.
[Whatever else L owed--that ledger was far from balanced--he did not owe Niles his death or suffering; on that much Myr is adamant.]
no subject
Dazed, he blinks back at the face of what does come, and all of it is so difficult to package up neatly, put in a box with a label and shelved for later analysis. In realtime, it requires prompt reaction, and there is simply no way to react promptly to what is perhaps L's first genuine, full realization that there is more to his human worth than the sum of his actions, alone. At least in the eyes of his Bonded, one cruel turn wasn't cause to condemn, or approve of repayment in flesh or blood.
He thinks he understands. Myr's fierce words, tone and posture communicate ultimate sincerity. His anger is real, his passion a force to reckon with, and it's unnerving to L. Passion is spectacular; it can also be dangerous, when expressed by people who would probably be better off kept in a closed box for their entire lives.]
I don't want to die here, any more than I did back home.
[It's just that acceptance makes what feels inevitable a bit easier.]
I don't want to kill, either. You won't hate me, if "all I can do" results in something really...?
[...indefensible.]
no subject
I will not hate you, [he says, at length, lifting his chin. He raises a hand to L's face, feeling to rest his palm against the curve of his Bonded's cheek.] Because I was raised to kill when I must, and war's never fair.
But, [a slow breath out,] there are laws in war and I would ask you not use that memory against him again, if you hold back nothing else. And if you must kill, kill cleanly.
Can you do that?
[There is something--deeply interesting--going on in the Bond between them, something he cannot resolve by feeling into it with half his attention. Even though he hasn't the facility to understand what's changed, it yet feels like a kind of hope to him. Something's made a difference. Something's begun to grow.
Pray they can keep that safe.]
no subject
With his palm resting against L's cheek, the faun will be able to feel a subtle, slow nod.]
I think so.
[He's as certain as he can possibly be, for one who has never taken a life directly before.]
no subject
Good.
[Myr rubs his thumb over the too-sharp curve of his Bonded's cheekbone, fond and gentle.]
I think, [softly now,] we ought to give the Coven their room back.
Come home with me? [An offer, not a demand. Even feeling what he does through their Bond, even having just ordered L to avoid his own death, he will not demand in this.]
My dreams have been, [nightmare-haunted, distressing,] lonely, of late.
[Even L's presence in his bed--let alone those dreams--would be proof against the worst of it. He misses it sore.]
no subject
Could I?
[Just for the night, of course. L never stays more than two of them consecutively with Myr, afraid to impose... but his current lifestyle would be hard even on a completely healthy body. Resting anywhere is a tempting offer, and resting alongside his Bonded is irresistible.]
no subject
[Whether it's for the night or--Myr would dearly wish, but knows better than to hope--much longer, L's welcome in his home... And not nearly so much of an imposition as the detective supposes. (Impose more, a part of Myr always, always wants to ask, but forebears. Though after the particular success he's had here in simply taking charge...perhaps not for much longer.)]
Let's go--straight there. We can both use the rest.
[Welcome home, L. He's missed this, too.]