Somehow the fragile moment had stretched and strengthened until he found a way to smile again. Rory had made it clear that he wasn’t angry or afraid of what the fox had done under the control of the madness, but it still made his heart skip a beat – surprised, joyful – at the implied offer of many more days spent together. Whether as man and fox or… something else, now. Jigano nodded acceptance of the offer, closing his eyes and letting his smile soften as he squeezed the hand against his cheek.
This moment - their moment – couldn’t last forever. There were others they both cared about whose fate Rory needed to know, as badly as Jigano had before. Though he regretted the loss of contact between them with an ache he dared not try to understand yet, his cheek swiftly feeling cold as Rory’s hand fell away, he didn’t want to strain his injured friend either.
The firm reassurance meant more than the bard could have predicted, the knot of tension and guilt and pain and self-loathing for what he had done unraveling a little further as Rory forgave him. Or at least, something close enough to it for Jigano to look up with gratitude in his blue eyes. He hadn’t expected the sound that Rory made next, though, or the low growl that sent a shiver down his spine. Not fear, no, something else entirely that had no place at the side of a wounded friend, and the Attuned firmly shoved it down and away. Hearing that the hunter had wanted to strangle him for his secret had him blinking, drawing in a breath of surprise. He held it as Rory looked away from him, but when their eyes met again there was a spark of humor there, and a smile flickered at the edges of the bard’s lips.
He let his fingers trail over Isuma’s wing until his hand was half on her, and half on Rory’s beneath. It felt so strange, this desire to be touched even in his human form. A little exciting, and a little frightening, too, at what it meant. Might mean. Could mean, if he let it. If this moment turned into a minute, an hour, a day, a season…
But, for now, he’d take each moment as the gift it was. ”Useless? You did more than any of us,” he reminded his friend, gently but firmly. ”You were the one who fixed the crosspiece so it could be raised again, and it was your magic that saw it secure. Wounded as you were, you even helped with the raising of it.” He cocked his head to the side, one ear canting halfway down to match his lopsided smile. ”You were braver and stronger than I. I wish…” He hesitated over those two most dangerous of words, the ones that could destroy a civilization or a heart. He bowed his head, finding his words and courage both before he looked up again, blue eyes searching Rory’s for something he didn’t have a name for. ”I wish I’d shown you – found a way to tell you – sooner. I… was a coward. Afraid that if I did… that things would change between us.”
This moment - their moment – couldn’t last forever. There were others they both cared about whose fate Rory needed to know, as badly as Jigano had before. Though he regretted the loss of contact between them with an ache he dared not try to understand yet, his cheek swiftly feeling cold as Rory’s hand fell away, he didn’t want to strain his injured friend either.
The firm reassurance meant more than the bard could have predicted, the knot of tension and guilt and pain and self-loathing for what he had done unraveling a little further as Rory forgave him. Or at least, something close enough to it for Jigano to look up with gratitude in his blue eyes. He hadn’t expected the sound that Rory made next, though, or the low growl that sent a shiver down his spine. Not fear, no, something else entirely that had no place at the side of a wounded friend, and the Attuned firmly shoved it down and away. Hearing that the hunter had wanted to strangle him for his secret had him blinking, drawing in a breath of surprise. He held it as Rory looked away from him, but when their eyes met again there was a spark of humor there, and a smile flickered at the edges of the bard’s lips.
He let his fingers trail over Isuma’s wing until his hand was half on her, and half on Rory’s beneath. It felt so strange, this desire to be touched even in his human form. A little exciting, and a little frightening, too, at what it meant. Might mean. Could mean, if he let it. If this moment turned into a minute, an hour, a day, a season…
But, for now, he’d take each moment as the gift it was. ”Useless? You did more than any of us,” he reminded his friend, gently but firmly. ”You were the one who fixed the crosspiece so it could be raised again, and it was your magic that saw it secure. Wounded as you were, you even helped with the raising of it.” He cocked his head to the side, one ear canting halfway down to match his lopsided smile. ”You were braver and stronger than I. I wish…” He hesitated over those two most dangerous of words, the ones that could destroy a civilization or a heart. He bowed his head, finding his words and courage both before he looked up again, blue eyes searching Rory’s for something he didn’t have a name for. ”I wish I’d shown you – found a way to tell you – sooner. I… was a coward. Afraid that if I did… that things would change between us.”
