[ It doesn't surprise Reynir by this point, the fact that Onni replies by trying to diminish the importance of what he's doing, saying it's only reasonable, implying anyone else would make the same choice. But Reynir knows differently. He knows that not everyone would be willing, the way Onni is. And he knows, too, that with Onni, even if he doesn't often directly lie, sometimes his actions are more truthful than his words. And he hadn't winced away from the hug, or pulled back. He'd been tense, his breath catching in his throat, but none of it seemed like annoyance or repulsion. ]
Ah, okay!
[ He follows Onni, letting himself be led by the sleeve, heart thumping hard against his ribcage. Those next few minutes pass in a blur: finding the room set aside for Bonding ceremonies, going in, the members of the Coven who are there to perform the ritual. Reynir felt dizzy and light-headed when the Witch running the ceremony - an older woman with a braid and crows-feet at the corners of her eyes - bid them to step into the magic circle. He stepped forward, meeting Onni's gaze with a small, warm smile. When the Witch says to join hands, Reynir holds his out in invitation.
Before the Witch can say any more, Reynir interrupts, voice smaller than usual: ]
Can- can I go first? For the vows?
[ He makes the decision at the same time he's saying the words, following his instincts. All at once, he doesn't want to wait to hear what Onni has to say first, to tailor his words based on what Onni says and what he thinks Onni wants to hear. He just wants to speak from the heart, uninfluenced, unfiltered. ]
no subject
Ah, okay!
[ He follows Onni, letting himself be led by the sleeve, heart thumping hard against his ribcage. Those next few minutes pass in a blur: finding the room set aside for Bonding ceremonies, going in, the members of the Coven who are there to perform the ritual. Reynir felt dizzy and light-headed when the Witch running the ceremony - an older woman with a braid and crows-feet at the corners of her eyes - bid them to step into the magic circle. He stepped forward, meeting Onni's gaze with a small, warm smile. When the Witch says to join hands, Reynir holds his out in invitation.
Before the Witch can say any more, Reynir interrupts, voice smaller than usual: ]
Can- can I go first? For the vows?
[ He makes the decision at the same time he's saying the words, following his instincts. All at once, he doesn't want to wait to hear what Onni has to say first, to tailor his words based on what Onni says and what he thinks Onni wants to hear. He just wants to speak from the heart, uninfluenced, unfiltered. ]