RONIN
the white knight
light is easy to love.
Ronin doesn't try to school his expression into anything other than what it is, disbelief stitched with the sort of concern that carries scars both long healed and still mending. He wordlessly sets down his plate and sits himself beside Remi as the bassinet ceases its rocking, his arm resting immediate and warm around his husband's waist. "I am not going to insult you by assuming you need an explanation as to why congratulations wasn't the first thing that popped into my head," he says carefully, not daring to look up in case he meets the wounded expression on Flora's face and responds with anger or, worse, placation.
"Neither was the idea of fun new powers," he continues, the last three words catching strangely in his mouth, like the idea of any part of demigodhood being fun has long vanished from his internal dictionary.
He frowns, then, as if trying to take what he wants to say - what were you thinking? do you know what you've done? how could you be so blind? - and condense it into something much, much less judgemental. And when he can't, he merely takes a slightly shaky breath and sighs it out again.
"It isn't your life any more, though," he tells her softly. Not unkindly, either, but with the weary address of one very, very seasoned demigod to one just coming into her power. "Not just yours, anyway. It's your life and Safrin's from here on out, depending on what she requires of you. I'm sorry, Flora. I know you're probably excited, but I don't want you to think that this is just about it being Safrin. It isn't. It could have been any of them, and this would still be sad for me. I can be proud of you without being happy that you're tethered to a god, like we are. I hope you understand that."
"Neither was the idea of fun new powers," he continues, the last three words catching strangely in his mouth, like the idea of any part of demigodhood being fun has long vanished from his internal dictionary.
He frowns, then, as if trying to take what he wants to say - what were you thinking? do you know what you've done? how could you be so blind? - and condense it into something much, much less judgemental. And when he can't, he merely takes a slightly shaky breath and sighs it out again.
"It isn't your life any more, though," he tells her softly. Not unkindly, either, but with the weary address of one very, very seasoned demigod to one just coming into her power. "Not just yours, anyway. It's your life and Safrin's from here on out, depending on what she requires of you. I'm sorry, Flora. I know you're probably excited, but I don't want you to think that this is just about it being Safrin. It isn't. It could have been any of them, and this would still be sad for me. I can be proud of you without being happy that you're tethered to a god, like we are. I hope you understand that."
show me your darkness.
