By, I—those weeks I made you wait, before I said yes? Do you know what I was thinking about then? I was thinking I would be your fuck buddy, [ he hates saying now, ] and your reliable friend, and you would never love me back. I was deciding whether or not I could stand it. To be that, and to watch you love Alexandrie and let you talk to me about it and.
And now I feel so stupid even saying it. [ He also feels wide awake. The creaking sound is him sitting up, putting his feet on the floor. All the better to make quiet dramatic speeches into a little blue rock. ] Because you've been so wonderful, at every turn, it seems absurd that I ever thought like that. It's absurd that I didn't know I could have something like this. That I could deserve it. It's the most absurd that I ever thought you might treat me that way, if you had even a faint suspicion of how I felt. It's...
[ A moment to find the thread he has lost. ]
What I am trying to say is, the very worst things anyone could ever suggest to me about what we have, I have already thought them, and you have already proven that they are ridiculous. Complete fucking nonsense.
[ Words he says often, in a hundred different tones. Most often, the words are playful or idly fond - because acts as simple as bringing him a coffee at just the right time or playing an arpeggio with expressive beauty get an I love you. In this instance, I love you is quiet and raw and earnest. Scraped out of somewhere deep in him.
Every person wants safety in love. Byerly is no exception to that; he wants to feel steady and sure that there'll be no harm coming to him. But more than that is a hunger to know that he is safe. That he can make mistakes without doing indelible harm. ]
And I'm glad. I'm - glad that you protected yourself. [ Rawer still: ] If I'd hurt you, especially in those early days, I'd have run away. I hate the thought that I could do it now, but back then - Maker.
[ A pause, struggling to compress into words a lifetime of being unloved and left behind, and of not loving and leaving behind, until anything else felt too strange to believe. He doesn’t quite manage. ]
—doing it to myself.
[ And this isn’t what he meant to be talking about, and he shouldn’t have said it. But it’s something, isn’t it, that he can say something he shouldn’t have said, accidentally scrape Byerly that raw, and By is meeting him with an I love you, not pulling back or turning his face away. (Metaphorically, because crystal.) ]
And I don’t do it anymore, [ at least on so large a scale, ] because you love me, and I trust you. But you need to trust me, too.
[ A pause, and the tension—the feisty overreaction, maybe, to the implication he might not know his own mind—bleeds out. ]
I know.
[ Gentler now. ]
I know. It’s alright.
I love you. And it’s not a splinter in my heart that someone can pull out with pliers. It is my heart. And the rest of me. [ Brightening a little, holding the cheesiness out like a hand: ] I love you with all my heart and all my teeth and all my toenails.
[ Bastien snickers, and the smile lingers in his voice even as he says, ]
I don’t know. I suppose.
Yseult chastised me a little bit, for not sounding like I took Antiva seriously. And we joke so much and carry on, and I know I don’t always show things the way other people do.
[ Rhetorical, mostly. He sounds pleased. Nice to be useful to the war effort in such a pleasant way. ]
I don’t want to change how we are. I only wanted to make sure you knew—I would keep living, you know, and try to do something with myself that would make you proud, but I would keep your urn on your pillow. My neighbors would wonder who that weird old man who lived alone was always talking to. It would be pathetic. And I hate to be pathetic, so… Don’t die.
[ A promise either of them might break, except it’s really only a promise to try very hard. To take care of himself as if he were taking care of Byerly, because in a way he is.
More creaking. The impulse to cram his feet into his boots and march up to the Diplomacy office in his nightclothes to convince Byerly he wasn’t going to be logicked out of love has passed. He’s lying back down, on one side of the mattress—a silent little I want you here for those nights/mornings Byerly can make the trek between towers. (At least when Alexandrie isn’t staying over. When she is, Bastien takes full advantage of the opportunity to luxuriously sprawl.)
Which leaves that tangle of thoughts about traps and bait to deal with. But it’s not as tightly knotted-up as it was. ]
Do you think it would make a difference? Baiting a trap.
[ Bastien hums. The hum has something in common with a whimper. Because the answer is, ]
Maybe. Depending on the details. If they are going to come for someone no matter what— [ for Byerly, but he has his hands clenched around Byerly’s offer not to do it, and he’s not willing to let go of it yet ] —then better for it to happen when all of our attention can be on stopping them.
[ A little distant. He'd be more vehement in his praise if he weren't distracted by how much he hates this whole thought, especially now that By's put his name back into it. ]
[ He finds - surprisingly - that, now that they're talking about it, he feels quite frightened. Foolish thing, isn't it? Before, when it was just him making that offer, there was no fear at all. But now, the cool weight of terror is steadying his hands and clearing his head, the way it does before he gets into true danger. ]
Beside me, perhaps? I don't think you're overly known as a Bard there - are you?
[ Bastien smiles up at the dark ceiling. It’s an odd, faint smile. He’s not happy. But he’s relieved. If it’s going to happen—if it has to—there’s only one person he might trust to guard Byerly’s life as fiercely as he would, and she’s currently without full use of her arm.
Anyway, if the final plan is bad, if it’s too risky, he’s more confident Byerly will balk this way, when it puts Bastien at risk, too, instead of only him. ]
That is another I should talk to her about you more. To make sure she understands that if she does ever send you to die, she will have to fight me afterwards.
[ Ah. Byerly hadn't expected that. His lips part a moment, and then he endeavors to say - ]
I'm exaggerating. [ A bit. That pointed pause had really made her sound quite indifferent to his fate. But - ] She said that she'd view me, in essence, like any of her agents.
[ Yseult is Bastien's friend. Even though on some level the thought of Bastien being angry on his behalf is thrilling - and it is thrilling, under the anxiety there's a shiver of pleasure - he doesn't want to sow discord between them. ]
[ Bastien considers that in somewhat sulky silence. Is it too much to ask that everyone in the entire world protect Byerly with the same vigor as if they were in love with him? It shouldn't be. But— ]
She is very worried.
[ Grudging, but he softens as he goes on. ]
About everyone. We talked about having people ready on the griffons all the time, so they could dive in if anyone needed it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
that icon has bonus hot points. extra hotness credit.
[ Flippant, maybe, but it's only a prelude. ]
By, I—those weeks I made you wait, before I said yes? Do you know what I was thinking about then? I was thinking I would be your fuck buddy, [ he hates saying now, ] and your reliable friend, and you would never love me back. I was deciding whether or not I could stand it. To be that, and to watch you love Alexandrie and let you talk to me about it and.
And now I feel so stupid even saying it. [ He also feels wide awake. The creaking sound is him sitting up, putting his feet on the floor. All the better to make quiet dramatic speeches into a little blue rock. ] Because you've been so wonderful, at every turn, it seems absurd that I ever thought like that. It's absurd that I didn't know I could have something like this. That I could deserve it. It's the most absurd that I ever thought you might treat me that way, if you had even a faint suspicion of how I felt. It's...
[ A moment to find the thread he has lost. ]
What I am trying to say is, the very worst things anyone could ever suggest to me about what we have, I have already thought them, and you have already proven that they are ridiculous. Complete fucking nonsense.
jrm has some good angles. And some very bad ones
[ Words he says often, in a hundred different tones. Most often, the words are playful or idly fond - because acts as simple as bringing him a coffee at just the right time or playing an arpeggio with expressive beauty get an I love you. In this instance, I love you is quiet and raw and earnest. Scraped out of somewhere deep in him.
Every person wants safety in love. Byerly is no exception to that; he wants to feel steady and sure that there'll be no harm coming to him. But more than that is a hunger to know that he is safe. That he can make mistakes without doing indelible harm. ]
And I'm glad. I'm - glad that you protected yourself. [ Rawer still: ] If I'd hurt you, especially in those early days, I'd have run away. I hate the thought that I could do it now, but back then - Maker.
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[ A pause, struggling to compress into words a lifetime of being unloved and left behind, and of not loving and leaving behind, until anything else felt too strange to believe. He doesn’t quite manage. ]
—doing it to myself.
[ And this isn’t what he meant to be talking about, and he shouldn’t have said it. But it’s something, isn’t it, that he can say something he shouldn’t have said, accidentally scrape Byerly that raw, and By is meeting him with an I love you, not pulling back or turning his face away. (Metaphorically, because crystal.) ]
And I don’t do it anymore, [ at least on so large a scale, ] because you love me, and I trust you. But you need to trust me, too.
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I do trust you.
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[ Insistent. ]
To love you in a way someone isn’t going to somehow talk me out of.
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[ Oh. That...is a sort of trust, isn't it? Trust isn't just believing that someone won't do evil things. It's also this. ]
Well. It's not a lack of faith in you, you know. If I struggle. It's...Well, you know.
[ An awareness - no, a belief - that Bastien deserves better than this miserable fool. ]
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I know.
[ Gentler now. ]
I know. It’s alright.
I love you. And it’s not a splinter in my heart that someone can pull out with pliers. It is my heart. And the rest of me. [ Brightening a little, holding the cheesiness out like a hand: ] I love you with all my heart and all my teeth and all my toenails.
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The same from me. Even my farts love you. All the rancid bits of me.
[ Then: ]
Is that why you asked me that question? About - me believing that you'd grieve me?
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I don’t know. I suppose.
Yseult chastised me a little bit, for not sounding like I took Antiva seriously. And we joke so much and carry on, and I know I don’t always show things the way other people do.
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[ There, at least, he has an honest, uncomplicated answer. ]
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[ Rhetorical, mostly. He sounds pleased. Nice to be useful to the war effort in such a pleasant way. ]
I don’t want to change how we are. I only wanted to make sure you knew—I would keep living, you know, and try to do something with myself that would make you proud, but I would keep your urn on your pillow. My neighbors would wonder who that weird old man who lived alone was always talking to. It would be pathetic. And I hate to be pathetic, so… Don’t die.
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[ His voice is soft. Fond, but a little sad, too. ]
So you're not allowed to die, either.
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Deal.
[ A promise either of them might break, except it’s really only a promise to try very hard. To take care of himself as if he were taking care of Byerly, because in a way he is.
More creaking. The impulse to cram his feet into his boots and march up to the Diplomacy office in his nightclothes to convince Byerly he wasn’t going to be logicked out of love has passed. He’s lying back down, on one side of the mattress—a silent little I want you here for those nights/mornings Byerly can make the trek between towers. (At least when Alexandrie isn’t staying over. When she is, Bastien takes full advantage of the opportunity to luxuriously sprawl.)
Which leaves that tangle of thoughts about traps and bait to deal with. But it’s not as tightly knotted-up as it was. ]
Do you think it would make a difference? Baiting a trap.
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[ He hesitates, then says: ]
Do you think it's a good idea?
[ Because as much as Byerly has played at being a spy, Bastien is the real thing. A Bard. He's the one whose judgment really matters. ]
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Maybe. Depending on the details. If they are going to come for someone no matter what— [ for Byerly, but he has his hands clenched around Byerly’s offer not to do it, and he’s not willing to let go of it yet ] —then better for it to happen when all of our attention can be on stopping them.
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But perhaps it is arrogance to think they would be so easily tricked.
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[ A little distant. He'd be more vehement in his praise if he weren't distracted by how much he hates this whole thought, especially now that By's put his name back into it. ]
I could be there? Nearby, at least?
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Beside me, perhaps? I don't think you're overly known as a Bard there - are you?
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[ Bastien smiles up at the dark ceiling. It’s an odd, faint smile. He’s not happy. But he’s relieved. If it’s going to happen—if it has to—there’s only one person he might trust to guard Byerly’s life as fiercely as he would, and she’s currently without full use of her arm.
Anyway, if the final plan is bad, if it’s too risky, he’s more confident Byerly will balk this way, when it puts Bastien at risk, too, instead of only him. ]
Alright. Beside you. I hate that less.
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Not least because I know Yseult would think twice before sending you to your death. Definitely much safer if the two of us are together.
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That is another I should talk to her about you more. To make sure she understands that if she does ever send you to die, she will have to fight me afterwards.
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[ Wryly: ]
I asked her if she would take adequate care of me when I was under her purview, and her response was, essentially, "Eh. Maybe."
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Fucking spies.
[ A joke, obviously, because look at them, but it comes out flat. He's angry, actually. ]
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I'm exaggerating. [ A bit. That pointed pause had really made her sound quite indifferent to his fate. But - ] She said that she'd view me, in essence, like any of her agents.
[ Yseult is Bastien's friend. Even though on some level the thought of Bastien being angry on his behalf is thrilling - and it is thrilling, under the anxiety there's a shiver of pleasure - he doesn't want to sow discord between them. ]
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She is very worried.
[ Grudging, but he softens as he goes on. ]
About everyone. We talked about having people ready on the griffons all the time, so they could dive in if anyone needed it.
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