LOREN
As Peter stammered and stuttered through his responses, Loren flashed back to a time when he had sounded much the same. When he couldn’t look people in the eyes, couldn’t get through a full sentence, couldn’t stand to be in the same room as someone he’d thought was attractive or pretty. He’d come a long way, but sometimes he longed for those days when he was friendless because he was shy, not because he was reviled.
But that was a long time ago, in another world.
Still, the summoner felt that he knew a little bit about where the other man was coming from. So, though Loren didn’t know where he dredged it up from, as Peter scarfed down his food the summoner smiled as kindly as he could manage, then pulled out a new knife and cut a few more slices of bread; the loaf was almost gone by that point, so he put all of it on the other man’s plate. ”There’s plenty more where that came from.” That was true, and more on the way.
Picking up his tea and curling his fingers around the cup, Loren found himself tapping one of them idly against the rim of the mug. Peter seemed reluctant to talk about how often or why he bit through his lip, so the summoner decided to change tactics. ”What changed?” If he knew that much, maybe he could help the other man break the habit entirely. Or maybe not: Loren wasn’t exactly an expert at getting rid of bad habits, especially his own.
Nor was he an expert on families, as evidenced by the fact that he’d left his for so long. Sighing, he took a sip of tea as he thought about how to best respond to Peter’s confession. ”I don’t know that it’s a question of need so much as want.” The other man seemed uncomfortable with the physical contact despite the fact that he'd initiated it, if the way he looked down and his fingers trembled were any indication, so the summoner just squeezed Peter’s hand then let go. ”What do you want to do?” It was a little hard to figure out what the other man was hoping to hear, so Loren was just doing his best. It usually wasn’t good enough, so he was waiting for the inevitable breakdown in communication.
As Peter continued to study the floor—though his eyes flicked up and then back down—Loren tried to stop thinking and feeling as if he was looking at a past version of himself. It helped when the other man finally managed to express what he’d been struggling with for what sounded like quite a while. ”I’d be happy to answer whatever questions you’d like to know. And you’ll never be a bother.” That seemed like the least the summoner could do to put Peter at ease.
However, explaining everything about the Launceleyns would take quite a while. ”Come on. Why don’t we go sit somewhere comfortable?” Assuming the other man was amenable to that, Loren would start leading the way towards the library. Seemed like an appropriate place for the story he was about to tell; he’d start at the beginning, as all tales should, because it was impossible to understand his family without understanding their origins.
”Long ago, when our family was founded, we were bound by a magical oath to always serve the royal bloodline and never to harm anyone with royal blood. It only bound those of our kin with magic, and it took effect as soon as the power manifested in our children. Which was a problem, because it demanded complete and utter obedience. Anything less than that would result in a swift and sudden death. And that...well that did funny things to our family.” Funny was a funny way of describing torture and horror, but it was all the summoner could think of in the moment that wouldn't scare Peter too badly. Though that would no doubt come in time.
But that was a long time ago, in another world.
Still, the summoner felt that he knew a little bit about where the other man was coming from. So, though Loren didn’t know where he dredged it up from, as Peter scarfed down his food the summoner smiled as kindly as he could manage, then pulled out a new knife and cut a few more slices of bread; the loaf was almost gone by that point, so he put all of it on the other man’s plate. ”There’s plenty more where that came from.” That was true, and more on the way.
Picking up his tea and curling his fingers around the cup, Loren found himself tapping one of them idly against the rim of the mug. Peter seemed reluctant to talk about how often or why he bit through his lip, so the summoner decided to change tactics. ”What changed?” If he knew that much, maybe he could help the other man break the habit entirely. Or maybe not: Loren wasn’t exactly an expert at getting rid of bad habits, especially his own.
Nor was he an expert on families, as evidenced by the fact that he’d left his for so long. Sighing, he took a sip of tea as he thought about how to best respond to Peter’s confession. ”I don’t know that it’s a question of need so much as want.” The other man seemed uncomfortable with the physical contact despite the fact that he'd initiated it, if the way he looked down and his fingers trembled were any indication, so the summoner just squeezed Peter’s hand then let go. ”What do you want to do?” It was a little hard to figure out what the other man was hoping to hear, so Loren was just doing his best. It usually wasn’t good enough, so he was waiting for the inevitable breakdown in communication.
As Peter continued to study the floor—though his eyes flicked up and then back down—Loren tried to stop thinking and feeling as if he was looking at a past version of himself. It helped when the other man finally managed to express what he’d been struggling with for what sounded like quite a while. ”I’d be happy to answer whatever questions you’d like to know. And you’ll never be a bother.” That seemed like the least the summoner could do to put Peter at ease.
However, explaining everything about the Launceleyns would take quite a while. ”Come on. Why don’t we go sit somewhere comfortable?” Assuming the other man was amenable to that, Loren would start leading the way towards the library. Seemed like an appropriate place for the story he was about to tell; he’d start at the beginning, as all tales should, because it was impossible to understand his family without understanding their origins.
”Long ago, when our family was founded, we were bound by a magical oath to always serve the royal bloodline and never to harm anyone with royal blood. It only bound those of our kin with magic, and it took effect as soon as the power manifested in our children. Which was a problem, because it demanded complete and utter obedience. Anything less than that would result in a swift and sudden death. And that...well that did funny things to our family.” Funny was a funny way of describing torture and horror, but it was all the summoner could think of in the moment that wouldn't scare Peter too badly. Though that would no doubt come in time.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
