A shiver went through his friend, one that left Jigano feeling oddly vulnerable in spite of being unhurt. He wanted to stretch out beside the hunter, to soak in his warmth through skin, not fur, and rest his cheek against sun-gilded hair. He wanted more than that, and was afraid that he wanted it. Rory’s blue eyes were filled with emotions the fox didn’t know how to read, in spite of how they echoed in his own heart, and he knew that if he gave them a name he wouldn’t be able to go back to what they had been… or even what they were now, in this moment.
He was blind, for all that he knew dozens of tales of lovers and those who had fallen in love, endings both happy and sad, stories of courtly grace, of bawdy comedy, of legendary courtships. He had never opened his heart so fully before, nor so unknowingly. No… that wasn’t true. Part of him had known, deep down, but he had refused to see it, didn’t want to acknowledge or admit it. He had been so afraid of wishing for something that he knew was out of his reach that he had focused all of his energy on treasuring what he already had. And, as a fox, it could never have become anything more than that…
But now Rory had seen him as something other than an animal – as a man, with all his flaws and failings. Or at least… he would see them soon, in the coming hours and days and weeks. All Jigano could do now was to turn away, to run, and save himself a little of the pain that awaited.
Or… he could trust Rory, as he had trusted no one since before a would-be god had fallen, and the friends who had become the bard’s family had held his life upon the edge of a bribe.
Fingers brushed soft feathers, earning a contented, sleepy peep from the gryphlet cuddled trustingly in Rory’s hand, the other man’s skin warm against his own. He could have pulled away then, put distance between them, tried to rebuild the walls that had once protected him. Instead he left his hand where it was, a point of connection, a bridge of trust built half from fear and half from hope, and he began to speak.
He read the empathy in Rory’s blue eyes, and his ears dipped in silent acknowledgment even before the blond spoke. The other man had his own secrets, perhaps, but he had also nearly died on the ground of the Sanctuary beneath an empty perch, and on the cold stones of the Temple floor. And… they would have time after this. Time to talk, to learn one another in new ways, to find how they fit together when one of them wasn’t just a particularly clever fox… time for wounded hearts to find some measure of healing together, perhaps.
He stroked his thumb again as he smiled down at Isuma, a caress that passed over human skin and gryphonish feathers with equal care. ”I was walking between towns, heading south,” always south, away from the memories of blood and iron, ”and between one step and the next I tumbled through a portal between our worlds. I found myself in the woods…” He hesitated, then shrugged a little, smile turning wry. ”Not knowing who had done it, or why, or where I was, I took my foxform and began to explore. I’d been here a little over a week before I met you… I never found out what you were doing out there that day,” he admitted ruefully. He tilted his head, about to ask another personal question, then bit it gently back. His smile softened, ears perking forward once more as he met Rory’s eyes, clear and deep as a mountain tarn that the hunter had never seen… but maybe would, someday. ”Were you hunting?”
He was blind, for all that he knew dozens of tales of lovers and those who had fallen in love, endings both happy and sad, stories of courtly grace, of bawdy comedy, of legendary courtships. He had never opened his heart so fully before, nor so unknowingly. No… that wasn’t true. Part of him had known, deep down, but he had refused to see it, didn’t want to acknowledge or admit it. He had been so afraid of wishing for something that he knew was out of his reach that he had focused all of his energy on treasuring what he already had. And, as a fox, it could never have become anything more than that…
But now Rory had seen him as something other than an animal – as a man, with all his flaws and failings. Or at least… he would see them soon, in the coming hours and days and weeks. All Jigano could do now was to turn away, to run, and save himself a little of the pain that awaited.
Or… he could trust Rory, as he had trusted no one since before a would-be god had fallen, and the friends who had become the bard’s family had held his life upon the edge of a bribe.
Fingers brushed soft feathers, earning a contented, sleepy peep from the gryphlet cuddled trustingly in Rory’s hand, the other man’s skin warm against his own. He could have pulled away then, put distance between them, tried to rebuild the walls that had once protected him. Instead he left his hand where it was, a point of connection, a bridge of trust built half from fear and half from hope, and he began to speak.
He read the empathy in Rory’s blue eyes, and his ears dipped in silent acknowledgment even before the blond spoke. The other man had his own secrets, perhaps, but he had also nearly died on the ground of the Sanctuary beneath an empty perch, and on the cold stones of the Temple floor. And… they would have time after this. Time to talk, to learn one another in new ways, to find how they fit together when one of them wasn’t just a particularly clever fox… time for wounded hearts to find some measure of healing together, perhaps.
He stroked his thumb again as he smiled down at Isuma, a caress that passed over human skin and gryphonish feathers with equal care. ”I was walking between towns, heading south,” always south, away from the memories of blood and iron, ”and between one step and the next I tumbled through a portal between our worlds. I found myself in the woods…” He hesitated, then shrugged a little, smile turning wry. ”Not knowing who had done it, or why, or where I was, I took my foxform and began to explore. I’d been here a little over a week before I met you… I never found out what you were doing out there that day,” he admitted ruefully. He tilted his head, about to ask another personal question, then bit it gently back. His smile softened, ears perking forward once more as he met Rory’s eyes, clear and deep as a mountain tarn that the hunter had never seen… but maybe would, someday. ”Were you hunting?”
