Tal was still struggling with a filter, but Hotaru's insights and her question had given him a great deal to think about and forced him to confront truths he had been hiding from for months. It took time to put his feelings into words, but her patience as much as her presence at his side gave him the strength to do so. Boreal was silent and still as she stood between the two humans, feeling her bonded's pain and, for once, her exuberant spirit was dampened as Tal's heart broke in spite of the love that she filled their connection with, stalwart and steadfast in joy as well as sorrow.
But the Valkyrie wasn't about to let him wallow in martyrdom. She prodded at the sore places where he'd failed in his words and understanding of Deimos with uncanny precision and he flinched as several of the cuts struck home. Some, but not all, and when her hand returned to his he drew a breath, giving a slow shake of his head as to his hatred of Evie... and then again at Deimos's loyalty. He didn't pull away from her; her touch was appreciated and he welcomed the warmth of her hand as well as her heart.
But it was the final phrasing which brought him up sharply, hands tightening on the box again as the hurt in his eyes deepened.
"I don't like her. But I don't hate her," he grumbled, voice low as his eyes dropped to the box again, and the reluctant gift within. "She's not... Not as bad as the Launceleyns. I get it. I can even work with her, if I have to. Done it before." Blood on the snow, the stone, the gates. Red and black. Black and red. Delia fled and just the Evergreen and the courier to hold back the dark at the door when the world was ending.
Other times, too. But that memory would always be strongest.
"Still don't entirely trust her. But it's not... it's not even about that. 'Course I want his friendship. But I can't just flip a switch an' like someone that waltzed right in an' took everythin' I wanted. An' even if I could... you just said it might not matter. He might still hate me." The burn started in the back of his eyes and he swallowed hard as Boreal leaned against his leg, crooning so softly it was more felt than heard. His own voice dropped to a whisper, rough and thin as the fear he'd never dared gave shape to finally escaped."Or worse... not care enough about me for even that.
When he looked up there was grief in the thin, gaunt lines of his face. A wound in his heart that bled out his eyes as he sought answers from the Valkyrie that he had lost hope of gaining from the Sword. "You talk about his loyalty t'her an' everyone else... what happened to his loyalty to me?"
But the Valkyrie wasn't about to let him wallow in martyrdom. She prodded at the sore places where he'd failed in his words and understanding of Deimos with uncanny precision and he flinched as several of the cuts struck home. Some, but not all, and when her hand returned to his he drew a breath, giving a slow shake of his head as to his hatred of Evie... and then again at Deimos's loyalty. He didn't pull away from her; her touch was appreciated and he welcomed the warmth of her hand as well as her heart.
But it was the final phrasing which brought him up sharply, hands tightening on the box again as the hurt in his eyes deepened.
"I don't like her. But I don't hate her," he grumbled, voice low as his eyes dropped to the box again, and the reluctant gift within. "She's not... Not as bad as the Launceleyns. I get it. I can even work with her, if I have to. Done it before." Blood on the snow, the stone, the gates. Red and black. Black and red. Delia fled and just the Evergreen and the courier to hold back the dark at the door when the world was ending.
Other times, too. But that memory would always be strongest.
"Still don't entirely trust her. But it's not... it's not even about that. 'Course I want his friendship. But I can't just flip a switch an' like someone that waltzed right in an' took everythin' I wanted. An' even if I could... you just said it might not matter. He might still hate me." The burn started in the back of his eyes and he swallowed hard as Boreal leaned against his leg, crooning so softly it was more felt than heard. His own voice dropped to a whisper, rough and thin as the fear he'd never dared gave shape to finally escaped."Or worse... not care enough about me for even that.
When he looked up there was grief in the thin, gaunt lines of his face. A wound in his heart that bled out his eyes as he sought answers from the Valkyrie that he had lost hope of gaining from the Sword. "You talk about his loyalty t'her an' everyone else... what happened to his loyalty to me?"
