![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
[Closed] Convergence
Who: Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus
Which: Closed log
Where: Emet-Selch's treehouse
What: September 13th; following events in Madhuri's dreamscape version of Aglaia, two friends engage in a long overdue talk.
Warnings: Heavy Shadowbringers and Endwalker spoilers. Sap, probably.
[Emet-Selch isn't altogether certain how long it's been when he first awakens, though judging by the journal resting on his nightstand, it cannot have been more than several days. A mere instant, by his measuring, yet it seems as if it has been far longer. So many terrible truths have been wrung from him (willingly) in such swift (self-righteous) succession, that he cannot fathom how he's to even begin mending the damage they have caused. And there will be damage, he knows. It isn't a question of whether but how much.]
[Had he been one and whole would he have approached anything differently? He thinks not.]
[Dread has him mulling the situation over in resolute silence for another hour more, yet it's that same silence (and a persistent headache) that finally forces his hand. And so it is that Emet-Selch emerges from his bedroom at last. Tea beckons, its aroma nigh impossible to miss, and yet... If there is fresh tea, it also means that someone is waiting for him.]
[No, not waiting perhaps, and yet...]
[Uncharacteristically unkempt and more than a little uneasyyes yes, go on and imagine it, Emet-Selch trudges into the living area of his own temporary abode, feeling somehow, inexplicably, as if this is the first time he's truly stepped into it.]
Which: Closed log
Where: Emet-Selch's treehouse
What: September 13th; following events in Madhuri's dreamscape version of Aglaia, two friends engage in a long overdue talk.
Warnings: Heavy Shadowbringers and Endwalker spoilers. Sap, probably.
[Emet-Selch isn't altogether certain how long it's been when he first awakens, though judging by the journal resting on his nightstand, it cannot have been more than several days. A mere instant, by his measuring, yet it seems as if it has been far longer. So many terrible truths have been wrung from him (willingly) in such swift (self-righteous) succession, that he cannot fathom how he's to even begin mending the damage they have caused. And there will be damage, he knows. It isn't a question of whether but how much.]
[Had he been one and whole would he have approached anything differently? He thinks not.]
[Dread has him mulling the situation over in resolute silence for another hour more, yet it's that same silence (and a persistent headache) that finally forces his hand. And so it is that Emet-Selch emerges from his bedroom at last. Tea beckons, its aroma nigh impossible to miss, and yet... If there is fresh tea, it also means that someone is waiting for him.]
[No, not waiting perhaps, and yet...]
[Uncharacteristically unkempt and more than a little uneasy
no subject
I thought that much went without saying.
[It was the usual way of things, after all, each of them sliding into their roles effortlessly, working together as if they were of one mind, one body.]
But tell me, since you seem to have something in mind, what is it that you want to do?
no subject
[He is sure of one thing, though he could easily spend centuries deliberating over the right way to go about it, reciting eloquent words, waiting for the appropriate time. He could stew in stubborn indecision, say nothing and yet always wonder until he once again lost his moment. He hardly thinks that moment is now, yet what has he truly to lose? If Hythlodaeus can still tolerate him after his ugliness has been laid bare, he can't imagine a little honesty will create any such rift between them. Besides, he'd been invited to share his mind. The worst that can happen is he gets laughed at - but that's normal. The other worst that can happen is he is left without an answer, yet he's already been 12,000 years without one and without asking besides.]
[Perhaps Hythlodaeus even knows.]
[At last he shrugs widely, a somewhat helpless gesture that accompanies a sigh of defeat.]
...I thought I might try my hand at something new. There are, after all, some few avenues I have yet to explore thoroughly. Perhaps I ought to delve into one of these before the novelty wears off and I grow weary of being tugged from one end of Etheirys to the other.
no subject
[His tone his dry, but amusement continues to be writ plain on his face.]
Well? Won't you tell me? We might even be able to get a head start on whatever it is you're thinking of, you know.
no subject
Oh, very well! But do not say that I did not warn you.
As you already know, most of those who joined my theatre troupe lack a formal acting background. While adapting one of Lexentale's earlier works for the purpose of instruction, I found myself reflecting on what you said following our own private rehersal.
While I have never been a fan of typecasting, I have also rarely held any interest in playing the romantic lead. Yet perhaps it is well past time that I broadened my horizons and embraced other character archetypes.
After all, you did seem more than delighted to volunteer yourself for the role of the love interest. ...Assuming, of course, that your offer still stands?
no subject
Though not a traditional confession, Hythlodaeus knows Hades more than well enough to tell that that is the intention. And to mention Hythlodaeus's own efforts like that...
Well, it seems his overtures weren't lost on Hades after all.
He doesn't reply immediately, instead pushing himself to his feet and walking over to stand next to Hades. He reaches out, fingers lightly brushing against his jawbone.]
Always.
[And without another word, he kisses him.]
no subject
[Some of it, of course, had been excused as playful teasing. That much was normal between them. Yet after a time, he began to wonder if there might be more to it than that. (Had Hythlodaeus not proven equally willing to play at romantic tales, to walk with him along the beach?) Judging by the look of legitimate surprise that dawns on his friend's face, Hades suspects his assumption isn't so far from the truth.]
['Come now. You cannot be so surprised...' he wants to argue, but Hythlodaeus is rising from his chair. Hades's eyes follow, unblinking, until Hythlodaeus stands next to him and Hades has little choice but to lift his head to regard him properly.]
[He cannot quite read the other man's expression, but then he hardly needs to. The gentle touch sets his flesh alight, his entire form tensing as he ceases to breathe against the edge of this silence, or else dare to interrupt the one simple word which echoes into the quiet.]
[And then he's being kissed.]
[Though stiff yet from his extended nap, Hades yields without a fuss - his countenance softening. His hooded eyes slip shut as he lifts a hand to keep him there, his palm nestled carefully against the long line of Hythlodaeus's neck.]
[He hardly deserves it, he thinks. Would it be an entirely ridiculous notion to mourn the millennia such feelings spent buried but never forgotten? Perhaps. Yet more than that he wishes he had told him sooner, even if the end had been the same.]
no subject
And though upon later reflection he may find some sadness in it, the thought that Hades had ever thought of him through all those long, long millennia, that his feelings for him were that strong, sends his heart aflutter all over again.
A hand slides over, reaching to intertwine his fingers with Hades's own.]
A satisfactory answer, I hope?
no subject
[For Hades, there is no need for reflection. There is the joy of it entwined with the sorrow, but most of all a hope he'd thought extinguished, burning small and low - but warm nonetheless. Hythlodaeus may find that this corner of the breakfast table has also grown quite cozy, the first hints of autumn chill having fled completely in their wake.]
[Hades watches him. Unspoken words flicker in the gold of his (slightly crossed) eyes, and for a long moment he appears not to know what to say - rare, that. The Third Seat without so much as a complaint in hand? Perhaps it is because there is far too much to share.]
[At Hythlodaeus's question, he at last settles upon something, though he finds it difficult to keep his expression stern, his voice from going quiet and soft.]
..."satisfactory" is not precisely the word that I would have chosen.
no subject
Not that it matters in the end. The world around them might as well not exist at all.]
Is that so? Well then, if that little performance pleased you so, I trust you won't object to something a little... grander?
[His eyes fall half-lidded as he presses forward a little, lips hovering so close to Hades's as to lightly brush against his with every word.]
Of course, a change in location might be in order.
no subject
[He might perhaps - he thinks - have spent a touch more time deliberating over a follow-up. A part of himself could almost be convinced that this is nothing more than a dream, or a dream within a dream within a dream... One too perfect and hoped for to be real.]
[He sniffs, back to his usual grousing even in a moment such as this.]
You can't possibly mean to send me back to my bed. After all, I've only been asleep for the better part of two whole days.
I suppose next you'll be demanding a show before I've even taken my breakfast.
[Just how do you expect him to perform anything on an empty stomach, Hythlodaeus? Yet for all Hades's grumblings, he has not precisely objected. Nor has he jerked backwards in his seat, nor tilted his head away. Each syllable is echoed against the smug curve of Hythlodaeus's mouth, and before he can make good on his suggestion of "changing location" he is like to find Hades catching his bottom lip between both of his.]
[Honestly. Now that they're both on the same page, there's hardly any reason to tease him so mercilessly, now, is there?]
no subject
It's not a "no," at least, and considering Hades has had to wait infinitely longer than Hythlodaeus has for this moment, he supposes he can summon up some modicum of patience.]
'Tis tempting...
[He pulls away with a sigh.]
But I can hardly deny you a good breakfast after you've slept as long as you have.
And if it allows me to keep you to myself for awhile longer as a result, all the better.
no subject
Like it or not, I suppose I'll be finishing my business with you first.
[He says it as if it is such a bother, yet now that Hythlodaeus has pulled away, Hades allows himself to rise from his seat and move into the space he left behind. Yet there is something still a bit...incorrect about this situation. Ah, yes. The missing ilm...]
[How troublesome.]
I imagine this will suffice? Well aware am I that this particular discussion is one which is long overdue. By over 12,000 years in fact.
[A pause as Hades watches him. Oh, there are dozens of small matters still strewn about the metaphorical breakfast table, all waiting to be addressed, neatly tied with a silk bow and stored away. Yet if none of that matters in the moment, Hades is content to let them lie.]
So tell me, what is it that you had in mind? I'm listening.
[Even if breakfast still wouldn't be the worst idea imaginable.]