Loren’s emotions warred within him, a storm that threatened to break loose any instant. Once upon a time, the Launceleyn had kept it bottled up tightly, knowing that tears were a sign of weakness and anger a sign of recklessness. Neither was welcome in the compound, and both were swiftly and decisively punished.
So he’d hollowed himself out—removed what emotion he could, and sublimated the rest—until he could fit in. He’d never had the magic to avoid pain and torture, but in every other way he’d turned himself into vessel to be the perfect Launceleyn. He’d lost himself in that, in the persona he’d forced himself and been forced into. But he could only sustain that for so long, and when the charade had broken and his family had been exposed, he’d come out a different person. A stronger, more confident person.
Or so he’d thought: it too had been a lie, albeit a better, more palatable one. Painstakingly, though, friends (and lovers too) had stripped away the outer surface, exposing his core. And what he’d found there had terrified and elated him. But then in the new world, he couldn’t deal with reinventing himself and with the rest of it, so he’d lost himself. He was distressingly good at it by now, so it’d been easy basically shutting himself off. It had taken a long time to realize that he was falling back into old, familiar habits just because it was easier. But it certainly wasn’t better, not for him or for anyone else.
Unfortunately for Jigano, the Launceleyn’s nerves were still too raw—and he needed to do something with the sadness brimming inside him—to deal with the concern. He wanted to work through his problems on his own; if he’d wanted healing, either physical or spiritual, he’d have sought it out. The librarian’s problems were his own.
So he simply stared at the other man, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks, and fury in his voice. “You’re right, it’s not your place. And you’re right, sometimes talking to people helps.” He felt his hands curl into fists. “But not always. Sometimes it just makes the problem worse. Some things can’t be helped, and some people can’t be fixed.” Loren certainly seemed to be the latter. “So please go.” Before the librarian dragged anyone else down with him.
So he’d hollowed himself out—removed what emotion he could, and sublimated the rest—until he could fit in. He’d never had the magic to avoid pain and torture, but in every other way he’d turned himself into vessel to be the perfect Launceleyn. He’d lost himself in that, in the persona he’d forced himself and been forced into. But he could only sustain that for so long, and when the charade had broken and his family had been exposed, he’d come out a different person. A stronger, more confident person.
Or so he’d thought: it too had been a lie, albeit a better, more palatable one. Painstakingly, though, friends (and lovers too) had stripped away the outer surface, exposing his core. And what he’d found there had terrified and elated him. But then in the new world, he couldn’t deal with reinventing himself and with the rest of it, so he’d lost himself. He was distressingly good at it by now, so it’d been easy basically shutting himself off. It had taken a long time to realize that he was falling back into old, familiar habits just because it was easier. But it certainly wasn’t better, not for him or for anyone else.
Unfortunately for Jigano, the Launceleyn’s nerves were still too raw—and he needed to do something with the sadness brimming inside him—to deal with the concern. He wanted to work through his problems on his own; if he’d wanted healing, either physical or spiritual, he’d have sought it out. The librarian’s problems were his own.
So he simply stared at the other man, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks, and fury in his voice. “You’re right, it’s not your place. And you’re right, sometimes talking to people helps.” He felt his hands curl into fists. “But not always. Sometimes it just makes the problem worse. Some things can’t be helped, and some people can’t be fixed.” Loren certainly seemed to be the latter. “So please go.” Before the librarian dragged anyone else down with him.
