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 Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 8:55 pm
Thrymr did not say a word the entire walk back to the apartment.
At some point in time, he powered down, quietly and subtly melting into Auguste, though his hand remained firmly locked around Mont Blonc's, fingers interlaced in a grasp that was almost painful in how tight it was. He would not even have remembered to power down in the first place, had there not been the nagging reminder that as Thrymr, his power signature would be able to be be felt far and way.
They did not go to Lorne's apartments, because he had no idea where that was. Instead, Auguste led the squire back to the loft he shared with Nadia, which was empty, mercifully. He had the suspicion that his roommate was out on her own patrol, and he was very, very glad of this.
He did not think he could hold himself steady for much longer, after all.
The silence continued as they ascended the steps, stretching out thick and cloying between them. Auguste could feel his heart beating in his chest, rapid and unsteady, and he fumbled with his keys to open the door, finally managing to push it out of the way.
It closed with a sharp snap behind them, and finally Auguste's fingers slipped away. For a moment he stood there, his back to Mont Blonc, and then he turned sharply, his blue eyes filled with a sort of blazing rage that had never before been seen on his pale face.
Auguste said nothing at all, merely stared at his friend with his hair a tangled white mess around his face.
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 9:11 pm
It was kind of ironic, really. Mont Blonc's magic took the form of silence. The boy behind the knight. But Lorne himself, the boy behind the knight, loathed silence. Not the kind of silence that came from a peaceful hike in the woods, because even in winter, he was never truly alone out there. That was peaceful, soothing, introspective. But the kind of silence like this, oppressive and clawing and nerve-wracking in all the worst possible ways, this he hated. This he would have gone to nearly any length to avoid.
And the only reason he didn't just flit away was because Auguste was his friend, and was moreover holding his hand so tightly, there would've been so easy way to slip away unnoticed. So Mont Blonc, and then Lorne, just stayed with his friend through the uncomfortable walk home, his eyes downcast and his heart thudding hard and fast in his chest.
Nadia's apartment had never felt so foreign to him before, as if the intensity of Auguste's stare had somehow warped it. Speaking of - god the way he was looking at Lorne make the knot of panic twist tighter still. (He was just staring at him).
Not knowing what else to do, tentatively, with shaking fingers and remembering the slap vividly, he reached out and carefully brushed an uruly lock of hair out of Auguste's face.
"I, uhm... "
What could he even say?
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 10:11 pm
How was it that Lorne was probably a good foot taller than he was, and yet felt somehow smaller? The way he stood there, the door framing his back, made the squire look curled in on himself, as though he was somehow diminished, softer.
The gentle, trembling hand that reached out made him flinch, the fingers that swept his hair out of his eyes so achingly familiar...such a stark contrast to the hand that had been pushing into his back not twenty minutes earlier, searching, seeking, demanding. It was a gesture that, while still relatively new to Auguste, held a great deal of significance and meaning to him all the same.
He wasn't aware of moving. His feet carried him forward, and then Auguste's hands were fisted in the font of Lorne's shirt, and he'd pushed him back against the door with a clatter.
"Why?"
It was a half ragged cry, his eyes wide, searching Lorne's, as though desperately trying to find the answer in his yellow eyes. Auguste's pale fingers tightened in his shirt, and he was not nearly as tall as Lorne, but he was on his tiptoes, his heart pounding in his ears.
"Why did you do that?" he shouted, and he couldn't even remember the last time he'd raised his voice. "How could you do that?"
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 10:25 pm
Lorne nearly drew his hand away when he saw Auguste flinch like that; the thought that the gesture might be wholly unwanted by this point, and that maybe, just maybe, he'd made his friend angry enough to reject him altogether. The thought alone ached terribly, and he was so afraid of facing that possibility, the chance that Auguste might very well hate him for trying to protect him.
Abruptly, they were moving, a sharp gasp escaping Lorne's lips before his back hit the door with a sound loud enough to make him wince, his eyes wide and wild with the fear he'd been harboring since Thrymr had looked at him like that, since he'd felt the sting of his palm against his cheek. His chest felt tight, in a wholly different way than it had when Umber had plunged his hand inside.
His gaze dropped by reflex, trying desperately hard to look away, anything but directly into his friend's eyes, cringing again at the volume of his voice. His cheeks were burning intensely bright, shoulders curled and tensed.
But Lorne still answered, quietly, his voice small but unwavering: "He was going to kill you. I didn't know what else to do."
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 10:42 pm
The only color in Auguste's face was the flush that suffused his cheeks, bright and starkly red against his otherwise pale skin, so light that it was questionable whether he'd even gone out at all growing up. His hands were trembling in the front of Lorne's shirt, and he hardly seemed able to control himself.
The reasoning was not unexpected, or even surprising, but it still made Auguste's face twist in frustration, his chest heaving with the effort of maintaining his sense of sanity.
"So you'd rather I watch you die?" Auguste said, and his voice broke on the word you, his eyes red rimed, too bright, glassy. "You'd rather I stand there and watch while you willingly give up your starseed and go to your death? That's not friendship, Lorne!"
There was tremor running through his entire body now, Auguste dragging in a ragged, gulping gasp, and he blinked rapidly, trying to dispel some of the tears that were threatening to fall.
"You can't - you can't expect me to just accept that," he said, and his fingers had unclenched from Lorne's shirt to curl into fists against his chest, and he was pushing at Lorne, not quite hitting him, but pushing, almost desperately. "You can't expect me to just stand around and watch you die, we could have - we could have done something, anything, but if you thought that I could - that I was just going to stand there and let you die - "
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 10:56 pm
Lorne visibly flinched, but for an entirely different reason than the volume of Auguste's voice. There was no way his friend could have known, of course - there was no way anyone could really know how deeply his fear of death and what lay beyond weighed on him. Most likely it was only those who'd traveled with him to Mont Blonc, the mountain, especially that first time, realizing that the place he was intended to be so intimately bonded to was a field of corpses barely obscured by ashen snow. Death made him uncomfortable. It was the kind of thing he lay there thinking about at night here and there, wondering what might happen if somewhere between sleep and waking he simply stopped being. Yes, he knew now of starseeds, of reincarnation, but...
It was easier to pretend he hadn't died for a moment the first time, when he'd slipped up and Umber had plucked his starseed. It'd been so much simpler to just disassociate from the whole thing, to pretend the aches and exhaustion that lingered in his body for the rest of the night were due to exertion from the battle, not from a brush with death.
Lorne did not want to die. He just -
"There w-was nothing else I could have done." Lorne squeezed his eyes shut, wishing and willing this away, even knowing nothing would change. "He would've still attacked you, he wouldn't - my magic can't - it would've been no good against him, a-and I'm not - I-I wasn't trying to... b-but I'm sorry, " and he added this hastily, maybe too hastily, without opening his eyes. "I - I really wasn't trying to - I just - I couldn't just watch him - "
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2015 6:54 am
They were two peas in a pod, in some ways; the anxiety that ran heavy and thick through Lorne was not quite as prevalent in Auguste, but they both shared a great deal of the same feelings of sometimes not belonging. Of not being good enough for this little family that they had all created among themselves. Auguste did not know of Lorne's aversion to death, but he knew of his own, private, lack of aversion, because if it had come down to it, he knew he would have died for any of the Saturn team without question.
But that was not the point, here. That was not why he was angry, why he could feel the devastation of Lorne's choice sweeping through him like a physical wave, Auguste's hands still clenched into fists against his friend's chest. He heard the words stuttered out, and felt as though his heart was being held in an icy grasp.
"You don't know that!" he cried, his voice ragged. "You don't know what could have happened, we could have - there might have been another way, we could have figured it out, but instead you just - you gave up so easily, you just told him to take it!"
He lifted a fist and hit Lorne's chest, not hard, merely a push out of frustration, of anguish.
"You told him to take it - " And now the tears had started to fall, even after every attempt to keep them at bay, hot and wet on his cheeks, Auguste now pushing at Lorne with both of his fists. "You told him to just walk away with it, and he did, do you know - do you know how it feels to watch that? To watch him just walk over and take your starseed, to watch you d - "
He dragged in a sharp, shaking breath. He'd stopped pounding on Lorne's torso, his fingers clenching in the fabric once more, and then Auguste's face was pressed against his chest, shoulders hunched and shaking, clinging so tightly his knuckles were white.
"You - you're all I have." His teeth were clenched so that the words came out gasping and ragged, and it was clear that Auguste did not just mean Lorne, singular, but all of them - their little family, their little island of misfit toys. All of these people that he held so near and dear to his heart. "You're all I have, I can't lose you."
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2015 7:19 am
The words made him flinch all over again. Those fists pounding against his chest made dull, hollow sounds on each impact through the thin fabric of his shirt, and Lorne kept his eyes closed, squeezing them tight, his brows furrowed and creases of lines seeping in between them.
It was when he heard a change in Auguste's voice that Lorne opened his eyes again, and what he saw probably ached more than the words or the slap or any of it: the last thing he'd ever wanted to do was make his friend cry, or any of his friends. The sight stole his breath more than those fists pushing at his chest, and for the first time it was less fear and more worry and guilt that seeped into those bright yellow eyes - which had, not so long ago, been dead and hollow and unseeing.
"Auguste..."
His fingers twined uselessly in the air for a few fleeting moments before Lorne tentatively, eased his arms around the smaller boy's shoulders, wrapping him warmly in a gentle embrace. "I..." Lorne loved his friends; he loved all of them, more than he'd ever loved anything in his life. Nadia, Colin, Auguste, Isaiah. (Plou.) And it wasn't as though he didn't think that they felt the same, but more - he just didn't allow himself to think it. It always took him aback, then, when he heard it, like when Methone had taken him back to her planet and said the things that she had after the train. Moments like that were like a shock to the system, felt but not expected.
Hearing it now, it ached. But it also warmed. Love was funny that way, wasn't it? - the contradiction caught in his throat like a lump, and his hold tightened, just slightly, his own eyes burning at the edges.
"I... I'm sorry Auguste, I - I wasn't thinking of - " And his voice was even quieter than before, meeker, smaller. " - I didn't mean to make you see - I - " He shut his eyes again and took a long, slow breath. "I've failed. A-a lot. As a knight. I've - I've made bad decisions. A- a lot of them, in spite of what anyone else says." Too many memories came to mind, and too many of those were based around Ploutonion, and made the squire wince as though he were tapping into a fresh wound. "A-and when he said - when Umber said what he said, I - the thought of losing you, too, Auguste - "
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2015 7:42 am
His parents - they had been good people, and Auguste loved them - but their love had not extended beyond the shallow, materialistic level of people who did not want to think too hard about what lay beneath the surface. No one talked about anything deep, or anything meaningful, because no one wanted to hear about what was inside of Auguste's heart, or what could possibly be construed as something, heaven forbid, negative.
But here - here with these people, with Colin and Lorne, Nadia and Isaiah; here was where Auguste felt safe, where he felt, for the first time, that it was okay to say things out loud. That it was okay to want to have something more than he did, more than he had ever had in his life. He could talk about things, he could feel things, and it was okay.
He heard his name, quiet and broken, and then hesitant arms slid around his shaking shoulders. Auguste flinched at the touch, his breath escaping in a sharp gust, but pushed even further against Lorne, burying his face into the other's chest.
It was so easy to love these people, why was it so easy? How could he have gotten so fortunate as to have not just one, but several people that Auguste would have done anything in the world for? It didn't even seem possible to have one person, let alone these four, and yet, here he was, surrounded by warmth and security on all sides, as though it was a place he had meant to be all along.
Auguste clenched and unclenched his fingers, then smoothed them over Lorne's shirt front in fluttering gestures before they held on once more.
"You haven't failed," he mumbled, his voice hoarse. "But you almost did. And I can't - I can't do that again, I can't watch you die, Lorne, I can't. It hurts too much, you can't - please don't do that again, don't give yourself up so easily for me, I'm not worth it, please just - just live."
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2015 8:15 am
The way that Auguste buried himself against him, accepting his affection rather than rejecting him flat out, made Lorne breathe a ragged sigh of relief all his own, a tremor slipping through him as he fought to release some of the anxious feelings that had wrapped around his heart like a vice. It was not so easy, but the bonds at least weakened, made it a little easier to breathe. Auguste did not hate him. Auguste was angry because he was upset, and it was going to be okay.
Probably.
'You almost did.' Lorne's cheeks burned hot at that, and a small wave of shame rushed through him... although just this once, it was short-lived. Because when Auguste went on to say something as silly as not worth it -
"Vous êtes hors de votre esprit sacrément," and Lorne was so rarely the type to curse in any language that when the words escape in a rush, and the heat traveled from his cheeks to his eyes. "I will live, I will, I don't want to die, I - " His voice trembled, and it was debatable whether it was because he was upset to hear his friend say such a thing or if he was really more phased by his own brush with death than he was letting on. " - b-but you can not say that. You are worth it. You were worth it. Auguste, so I - I don't want to hear you say that again, you're - you're worth so much to all of us, I - please don't say things like that," and his brief, nearly impassioned surge of words teetered off into his stumbling, unsure silence, his gaze dropping and averting again.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2015 8:36 am
He felt the tremor as though one had gone through himself at the same time, and Auguste closed his eyes against Lorne's chest, stinging from the redness that rimmed them. He could feel, very faintly, the heart that beat against the ribs, and somehow this was reassuring in a way that other things weren't.
The sudden French almost burned his ears, as unexpected as it was. Auguste's eyes opened halfway, lips parting as a breath escaped him, fingers curling in the front of Lorne's shirt. The shaking of his friend's voice was matched by the shaking of his arms around him, and Auguste became aware of just what he was being told, of what Lorne was saying.
He'd been told that before - that he was worth more than he believed, and yet Auguste still struggled with the truth of it all. Slowly his eyes closed again, tears leaving tracks down his pale, slightly freckled cheeks, and Auguste leaned more fully against Lorne, the anger slowly, slowly, starting to dissipate.
"Vous ne pouvez pas renoncer à votre vie si facilement," he said, voice thick as he slipped easily into the language he had grown up speaking. "Vous valez plus que vous le pensez, aussi, vous ne pouvez pas attendre tout simplement que je sois d'accord avec vous mourir pour moi."
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2015 8:50 am
As Auguste leaned more comfortably against him, Lorne felt compelled to reach up, his hand coming to stroke his hair in that way that was coming familiar to them, quietly allowing himself to enjoy the silky texture between his fingers.
"Je ne vais pas," he assured his friend quietly, leaning more heavily against the wall - not for any sort of weight of Auguste's, but simply because energy or no energy, Lorne was still tired, as much from his own frayed nerves as from Umber harvesting his starseed. (God, he still remembered that look in the general's eyes as he'd done it.)
"Je promets. Je ne suis ni fou, ni courageux, " and the way Lorne said that was almost teasing in his own soft, unsure way, a soft bubbling of laughter slipping from his lips.
"Mais je vais vous protéger. Pour aussi longtemps que je peux. Je ne suis pas fort, mais je vais essayer. Parce que vous le valez bien."
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2015 2:03 pm
He felt his heart start to beat a little slower at the fingers in his hair, less erratically, Auguste starting to feel less like he was about to burn up in his emotions at any second. It was not exactly an old gesture, but it was starting to become a familiar one, a much needed one - because if anything, there was simply something terribly reassuring about Lorne stroking his hair.
He leaned back abruptly, however, at the words, and the same sort of blaze was still in his eyes, though not out of anger this time. Auguste's hands slid up to rest on either side of Lorne's face, his fingers still trembling slightly as he looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed.
"Tu es fort," he said roughly. "Vous êtes plus forts que vous vous sentez, et plus courageux que vous croyez."
There was no doubt that he meant it, because Auguste never lied, and it was said with the same sort of unwavering conviction that Lorne had just used in talking of Auguste's worth. His hands fell away after a moment, and Auguste rested his forehead against Lorne's chest, trying to keep the warm promise inside of his head, inside of his heart.
"Je veux vous protéger aussi - vous tous," he whispered. "Mais - mais je ne peux pas le faire moi-même."
His eyes closed ones more, fresh tears threatening to fall at any moment.
"Promise me," Auguste said softly. "Promise me, you won't do that again. That you won't just...give yourself up so quickly."
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2015 2:31 pm
Really, he'd be lying if he said the act of stroking Auguste's hair wasn't as reassuring for him in some ways as it was for his friend. Lorne's lingering nerves still showed at the way his eyes widened when Auguste leaned back, his heart beating faster, chest tightening - until he realized it was no anger he was facing but sheer resolve, and that was not something bad. He felt a pang of guilt, still, for Auguste's trembling fingers, his red-rimmed eyes, because that of course was his fault.
Although he couldn't help but smile faintly at his words, rough yes, but they did not make him flinch their time in their rawness. His cheeks burned intensely with the praise, very much the same Lorne he'd always been - even if quietly, he still doubted, not his friend of course (Auguste never lied, never) but himself. He'd been afraid. He was afraid a lot, of almost everything. He wavered constantly in the face of the enemy. How anyone could truly think someone like him brave...
Privately, even if he knew he wouldn't have been able to handle the sight he had shown Auguste today... it wasn't that he thought his decision had been the right one, exactly. But it had been the only one. How else could he have possibly saved Auguste's life? There was no magic that could have done the job, there was no -
"I promise." He could promise he would try, though, enfolding Auguste into a tight embrace again, sighing out a shaking breath. "I promise. I-I'm sorry, I - I really - don't want to, believe me."
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2015 3:51 pm
He'd promised. That was what made all the difference in the world, because in truth, Auguste had almost expected Lorne to try and say he couldn't promise such a thing. But he'd said it. He'd said he would try and that he would promise, and that - that was what Auguste had needed all this time.
He sagged against Lorne, all the fight having gone out of him, his eyes fluttering as he sank into the offered embrace. Auguste maneuvered his hands out from between the two of them, and slid his arms around his friend's waist, securing his hands against the small of Lorne's back and hugging him back, just as fiercely.
"Don't..." he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fact that his face was pressed into Lorne's torso. "Don't make me watch you die again."
His arms grew a little tighter.
"Please."
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