Love mends even the broken parts
Remi was being silly, prolonging the inevitable departure, but Loren found that he didn’t mind it. Much. Again, the other man could do as he willed, and the summoner would do the same. If the alchemist wanted to jest, then he could do so. The Launceleyn didn’t need to respond to everything. He could just stand there, impassive, eyes cold. But they had thawed, ever so slightly. Besides, the reasons Loren was unable to sleep had nothing to do with temperature or tension, and everything to do with night terrors and childhood trauma. Still, even with that, he was going to stick by his statement, slightly amended: he had magic enough, for now.
”You’re welcome.” Finally, the alchemist took the last amulet, and said a goodbye of sorts. To Astra, though, not to the Launceleyn. The luxere accepted the other man’s touch obviously, always pleased to be shown affection by anyone, even Loren. At least, that was the best explanation he’d come up with for why she’d stuck by him all this time.
However, something in the other man’s tone gave the summoner pause. Once upon a time, Loren had known Remi intimately—though not as intimately as either of them would have liked—and those old instincts stirred under the ice. ”You’ve met.” That’s not what had troubled the Launceleyn however. No, what had troubled him was how final the alchemist’s goodbye had sounded. ”Remi.” Although the Launceleyn’s voice wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t as harsh as before, though it was just as firm and unyielding. ”You can talk to me. I just won’t always respond, or respond in the way you’d like, and I don’t feel that I should be responsible for that.” The very fact that he had to give that caveat was sad, but felt necessary. Although it was probably obvious to the alchemist already, given how the summoner had been acting.
”But...I meant what I said, that I don’t mind being useful. And I helped you with the LongNight preparations, I want you to remember that. I'll keep helping, in whatever way I can.” Even in the dark and the cold, he'd still done that. Now, Loren searched Remi’s eyes for any sign of what it was in the other man’s voice that had triggered this wave of concern. ”If anything happens, as you say, do your best to tell me, and I will be there. And if I can't be there before, you'll tell me after.” After all, even now Loren couldn’t imagine a world in which, whatever he became, Remi wasn’t there in some way, shape or form. So this wasn't goodbye, not by a long shot.
”You’re welcome.” Finally, the alchemist took the last amulet, and said a goodbye of sorts. To Astra, though, not to the Launceleyn. The luxere accepted the other man’s touch obviously, always pleased to be shown affection by anyone, even Loren. At least, that was the best explanation he’d come up with for why she’d stuck by him all this time.
However, something in the other man’s tone gave the summoner pause. Once upon a time, Loren had known Remi intimately—though not as intimately as either of them would have liked—and those old instincts stirred under the ice. ”You’ve met.” That’s not what had troubled the Launceleyn however. No, what had troubled him was how final the alchemist’s goodbye had sounded. ”Remi.” Although the Launceleyn’s voice wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t as harsh as before, though it was just as firm and unyielding. ”You can talk to me. I just won’t always respond, or respond in the way you’d like, and I don’t feel that I should be responsible for that.” The very fact that he had to give that caveat was sad, but felt necessary. Although it was probably obvious to the alchemist already, given how the summoner had been acting.
”But...I meant what I said, that I don’t mind being useful. And I helped you with the LongNight preparations, I want you to remember that. I'll keep helping, in whatever way I can.” Even in the dark and the cold, he'd still done that. Now, Loren searched Remi’s eyes for any sign of what it was in the other man’s voice that had triggered this wave of concern. ”If anything happens, as you say, do your best to tell me, and I will be there. And if I can't be there before, you'll tell me after.” After all, even now Loren couldn’t imagine a world in which, whatever he became, Remi wasn’t there in some way, shape or form. So this wasn't goodbye, not by a long shot.
loren
