Love mends even the broken parts
Seeing as Remi had impressed upon Loren how very different Ronin had become—and in the few times they’d interacted, the Launceleyn had surmised as such—the summoner figured he should just do as the alchemist advised. Try to find some way for the king and Loren to have a fresh start. There were so many of those being offered that the Launceleyn was almost tired of thinking about it, but even he knew he couldn’t afford to pass them up. So he just nodded at Remi’s words about his husband. Assuming they both survived LongNight—which they probably wouldn’t, if Loren’s fears came true—maybe they could find a way forward.
As for the alchemist, it seemed that the Launceleyn had made another misstep. ”No. I’m sorry.” He could’ve argued that a lie of omission was still a lie, but the other man’s voice had cowed the summoner into silence. Still, it didn’t sit well with him that they might leave Wessex in the lurch like that, alone with no one to rely upon. Not that she was inclined to rely upon him.
However, he couldn’t break Remi’s trust and Loren didn’t see the queen agreeing to a change in plans this late in the process. This wasn’t the first time he’d been between a rock and a hard place and he knew he'd make a call he felt comfortable with in the end. And then the alchemist spoke harshly, again. Loren closed his eyes against it. ”Please just tell me. I’m too tired to think straight, let alone fight.” If something he’d said had bothered Remi, the Launceleyn would rather just know, rather than try to interpret this latest set of comments.
Unfortunately, he had to open them for the illusion magic. Memories flickered over them, scenes of horror and carnage. It was awful, more awful than anything he’d seen or experienced, and he’d been through a lot. Too much. For both of them, though obviously the other man had it far worse. The summoner surged to his feet when they finished, and reached out to pull Remi into a hug. There’d been no image of them fighting the monsters, but Loren wouldn’t ask for that, not after what he’d seen.
As for the alchemist, it seemed that the Launceleyn had made another misstep. ”No. I’m sorry.” He could’ve argued that a lie of omission was still a lie, but the other man’s voice had cowed the summoner into silence. Still, it didn’t sit well with him that they might leave Wessex in the lurch like that, alone with no one to rely upon. Not that she was inclined to rely upon him.
However, he couldn’t break Remi’s trust and Loren didn’t see the queen agreeing to a change in plans this late in the process. This wasn’t the first time he’d been between a rock and a hard place and he knew he'd make a call he felt comfortable with in the end. And then the alchemist spoke harshly, again. Loren closed his eyes against it. ”Please just tell me. I’m too tired to think straight, let alone fight.” If something he’d said had bothered Remi, the Launceleyn would rather just know, rather than try to interpret this latest set of comments.
Unfortunately, he had to open them for the illusion magic. Memories flickered over them, scenes of horror and carnage. It was awful, more awful than anything he’d seen or experienced, and he’d been through a lot. Too much. For both of them, though obviously the other man had it far worse. The summoner surged to his feet when they finished, and reached out to pull Remi into a hug. There’d been no image of them fighting the monsters, but Loren wouldn’t ask for that, not after what he’d seen.
loren
