Love mends even the broken parts
It was about what Loren had expected: Ronin, if he had a choice, probably wouldn’t want the Launceleyn in his life anymore. Which meant it was up to him to decide if he wanted to be a part of the king’s life, and up to the summoner to do all the work. And Loren wasn’t particularly skilled at making friends. ”I apologized for...some of that. When he had a brief moment of clarity.” But since then, nothing, and again, while the Launceleyn could understand why, that didn’t mean he was going to be able to salvage anything, even a working relationship with Ronin. Maybe that was for the best. ”I can try.” It would take two of them, and it sounded like neither of them were prepared or willing.
At Remi’s suggestion for Wessex, the summoner gave the alchemist a confused and concerned look. ”So you want me to lie. And leave her and everyone else in the Temple unprepared to deal with my absence.” As much as the Launceleyn thought he might do more good at the Guild, he didn’t want to endanger everyone at the Temple either. And he was frankly shocked that the other man would just suggest it. However, when Remi glared at Loren—or whatever that expression was—the Launceleyn just stared back blankly. ”What?” Whatever was bothering the alchemist was beyond the summoner’s ability to comprehend at that particular moment.
As the other man came closer, Loren waited for the illusion to start. And waited. It took him a moment to realize that the alchemist was waiting for permission or something. As soon as that occurred to the Launceleyn, he nodded, not really wanting to interrupt Remi in the midst of the memory for fear the summoner would miss something.
At Remi’s suggestion for Wessex, the summoner gave the alchemist a confused and concerned look. ”So you want me to lie. And leave her and everyone else in the Temple unprepared to deal with my absence.” As much as the Launceleyn thought he might do more good at the Guild, he didn’t want to endanger everyone at the Temple either. And he was frankly shocked that the other man would just suggest it. However, when Remi glared at Loren—or whatever that expression was—the Launceleyn just stared back blankly. ”What?” Whatever was bothering the alchemist was beyond the summoner’s ability to comprehend at that particular moment.
As the other man came closer, Loren waited for the illusion to start. And waited. It took him a moment to realize that the alchemist was waiting for permission or something. As soon as that occurred to the Launceleyn, he nodded, not really wanting to interrupt Remi in the midst of the memory for fear the summoner would miss something.
loren
