The white sheep of the family
As Remi spoke, Loren simply leaned against the tree, a sympathetic look on the summoner’s face. It was obvious how much the other man was hurting, and it was completely understandable why, and though the Launceleyn flinched at the way Remi said ‘you,’ Loren did not look away. He couldn’t, any more than he could stop his heart from going out to the alchemist. Which is why, despite the summoner’s severe trepidation, despite the way it made his heart hammer in his chest, despite the way it made his breath catch in his throat in a way their swift pace from earlier never could, Loren pushed off the tree and crossed the distance to Remi. Assuming the alchemist didn’t move, the Launceleyn would rest his hands on the other man’s shoulders.
Regardless of what Remi did, Loren would say his piece. ”You are meant to be depressed, and anxious, and heartbroken, and everything I know you are feeling. What you are not supposed to do is keep it to yourself. I know you think you have to be strong, but not with me, Remi. Never with me. Honesty, remember?” The Launceleyn knew a little bit (well, a lot) about keeping his feelings to himself. So he knew exactly the sort of damage Remi was doing to his soul and his mind by bottling all this up. ”There’s no reason think Vi’s plan won’t save everyone, either. And I’ve seen him too, Remi, and what I know is that while he wears Ronin’s face, that is not Ronin. Not your husband.” Taking a deep breath—both to calm himself and to encourage the alchemist to breath—Loren let it out in a puff of white. ”If you want to turn back, I understand.” There was no reason Remi had to do this for Loren, or do anything for anyone else for that matter. It was past time others helped the alchemist. The Launceleyn could find another to take him to the village.
Regardless of what Remi did, Loren would say his piece. ”You are meant to be depressed, and anxious, and heartbroken, and everything I know you are feeling. What you are not supposed to do is keep it to yourself. I know you think you have to be strong, but not with me, Remi. Never with me. Honesty, remember?” The Launceleyn knew a little bit (well, a lot) about keeping his feelings to himself. So he knew exactly the sort of damage Remi was doing to his soul and his mind by bottling all this up. ”There’s no reason think Vi’s plan won’t save everyone, either. And I’ve seen him too, Remi, and what I know is that while he wears Ronin’s face, that is not Ronin. Not your husband.” Taking a deep breath—both to calm himself and to encourage the alchemist to breath—Loren let it out in a puff of white. ”If you want to turn back, I understand.” There was no reason Remi had to do this for Loren, or do anything for anyone else for that matter. It was past time others helped the alchemist. The Launceleyn could find another to take him to the village.
Will blood tell
