[At that reassurance, that he'll try not to cross any lines because Onni won't be able to shut him out, Onni makes a soft 'hm' in his throat, and glances down at his bowl of food. He's not feeling particularly hungry, but he hasn't for a few days now, so he just pushes the bowl away from him and leans an elbow on the table, rests his chin in the palm of it, looking over at Reynir. The younger man seems to have lost his appetite as well, though Onni isn't sure what the reason might be, since he also looks quite pleased.
It is a relief that Reynir looks so pleased. He hadn't really thought about how short-notice it was, with this space opening up the same day, until Reynir had seemed surprised. Abruptly, Reynir is reminding him that he has to think of some sort of vow for the ritual ceremony, and he's not sure what to say - suddenly the time seems very short for him as well, and now his appetite is well and truly gone.]
I haven't written anything. But I will before it happens, I promise.
[When he says that, he meets Reynir's eyes pointedly, trying to make it clear that when he promises this, he's intending to follow through. Onni might not understand all the reasons why, but he can tell that it's important to Reynir, that not following through or saying something appropriate and genuine would hurt the Icelander. He has no intention of starting out a bond that way, on a note of hurt, because it would be a very bad omen for the rest of the time they're bonded.
Once they get the food cleared, Onni goes back up to his room to settle on his bed and think about what he intends to say. Lying on his back, he looks up at the ceiling and spends some actual time thinking about Reynir as a person. Thinking about the interactions they've had and the consideration Reynir has shown him, about Reynir's stubbornness and energy and how those things infuriate him but how they also push him to do things he wouldn't otherwise. Halfway through the afternoon, he re-reads the conversation they'd had about frivolous things and relationships and all of that, tries to understand it and yet again comes up with confusion. Reynir is strange and foreign and perplexing and overwhelming and very...bright, warm.
After a while, he falls asleep, curled up on his side on the bed, his back to the wall, and wakes up a few hours later, groggy and in need of water. Drinking some from the tap in the bathroom makes him more alert, and he realizes that the time is getting close, so he cleans himself up - he showers and washes his hair and tries to get it in some semblance of order afterward. He goes through his clothing until he finds something that looks decently presentable - a tunic and leather leggings, his boots, his fur cloak, but leaving the gloves behind.
After he's satisfied with his appearance, he leaves the house to wander the market a little, wanting to get a small gift for Reynir, because somehow it seems right to do so...it's difficult to decide what, because flowers seem wrong and he doesn't think Reynir likes sweets as much as he does. Eventually he settles on a tiny wooden carving of a dog that reminds him of both the Icelander's fylgja and the one he'd had to part with in order to get into the Silent World back in Finland. Wondering if Reynir had seen that to know the similarity, he tucks it into a pocket to be given after the ceremony.
Onni still hasn't written anything, but he thinks he knows the soul of what he intends to say, and that is all he's ever needed.
Reynir meets him by the doorway as he comes back inside, calling that he'll be out in a few moments.]
Ah, good. We're still walking together, then?
[Onni takes a few steps inside, craning his neck to look toward Reynir's room.]
[ Given the opportunity, he might continue fussing over his appearance for a few hours more, at a minimum. But the scheduled time for the bond doesn't allow for any more procrastination. So he tucks the last tuft of hair into place and steps out of his room.
All the fretting and other emotional turmoil of the day fall away when he sees Onni standing there, looking just so... Onni. Seeing him, being around him, has always set Reynir at ease in a way that he doesn't entirely understand. The tension in his shoulders drains away and he grins, green eyes bright with excitement. ]
Yes, yes, we can head off now, I'm ready.
[ Reynir doesn't exactly have an extensive wardrobe in this place, but he's wearing what he considers to be his nicest clothes. His hair is split into two braids, far more complex than his usual, which are looping around one another in a complicated pattern.
He also has something tucked away in his pocket - not a gift, but a few short versions of vows, or at least, the bullet points for them. ]
Onni - before we go, I just wanted to say... I just... thank you. For doing this for me. It means a lot to me.
[ And then, all in a rush, Reynir closes the distance to Onni and hugs him very tightly, long arms drawing him in tight. It's a quick embrace, and Reynir rubs at the back of his neck after, face flushed, looking pleased and a touch guilty. ]
[When Reynir calls down that he's just getting presentable, Onni makes a little 'hm' of acknowledgement. As far as he's concerned, Reynir usually looks just fine, but as he's become aware of how many parts of him are broken or never developed properly, he's also realized that he probably isn't a good judge of that kind of thing. Still, when Reynir comes out of his room and grins at him, Onni can see the difference. His hair is tied up in a different more complicated looking way, and he looks more bright and shiny than he usually does. Glancing down at himself, Onni tries to work out if he looks shabby in comparison - probably he does, and the glimmer of caring about that is both very small and very unfamiliar.
Onni gives him a nod and turns toward the door, only to pause when Reynir asks him to wait. Turning back to Reynir with his brows slightly raised in curiosity, he's caught a little off-guard when Reynir blurts out his thanks, and that it means a lot to him, and then darts in and hugs him. Reynir's long arms are wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing tight, and Onni holds his breath for a moment.
He hasn't been hugged since Tuuri went off on that cursed mission. How long has it been? He doesn't even know how long it's been. For a moment, he clenches his jaw and rides through the wave of grief, as fresh today as it was the day he found out, and by the time Reynir lets go, he's clear-eyed and looking neutral again.]
Yes yes. I don't see why you would think I'd just let you go feral and hurt yourself or someone else, but you're welcome, I suppose.
[While the words sound pretty cranky, Onni's expression is just a little bit soft. Reaching out, he pats Reynir on the shoulder a couple times, and then nods as they head toward the door. Onni isn't used to so much physical contact, and isn't inclined much to initiating it, but the truth is that he doesn't mind it and never has. He isn't like Lalli, ducking away from hugs and shoving people away when they encroach on his personal space, at least not unless they're someone completely strange or who he actively dislikes, and Reynir is neither. The feeling of being hugged lingers on his body and the walk is pleasant, the world bathed in the warm orange glow of sunset.
It isn't a long trip to the Coven, and Onni holds the door open for Reynir, suddenly feeling a little anxious. Being in this place with all its magic hanging heavy in the air makes it feel a little more real, drives home that these are his last few minutes being completely alone in his own mind. Glancing over at Reynir, he tilts his head thoughtfully, and reaches out to catch at the edge of his sleeve with his fingers, pulling him along toward a hallway to the left.]
[ 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. ]
[There are certain things, certain ways to react to situations, that Onni considers to be logical and reasonable and moral, and therefore the correct thing to do in that situation. And since, in his mind, those things are logical, reasonable, moral, and correct, he doesn't think that people need to be thanked or complimented for doing them, really. They are the things that anyone should do. If someone you like is facing the prospect of losing themselves to animal instinct and possibly hurting themselves or others, the right thing to do is to step in and do something about it, if it's in your means.
It isn't something special. It's just right.
That's why he brushes off the thanks the way he does, why he reminds Reynir that it isn't such a big deal. In the back of his mind, Onni does know that most people don't always do the right thing, especially if it costs them something, and he also knows that if Reynir is so thankful for Onni doing the right thing it probably means that he hasn't experienced it that often, but at the same time it feels weird to accept praise for it.
So instead, he just ignores the issue, mostly settled as it is, and leads Reynir to the room they need to be in, fetches the Coven Witch who will do the ceremony, and gets himself situated in the correct place inside the magic circle drawn on the floor. When Reynir asks if he can go first, Onni nods.]
If that's what you want.
[After a pause, he reaches out and takes Reynir's hands, holding them in his for a moment in a way that feels awkward, at least until he finds a way to link their fingers together, and then it feels right. Nodding in satisfaction, he lifts his chin so he can meet Reynir's eyes.]
[ Reynir lets out a shaky breath, squeezing tight once Onni links their fingers together. He sneaks a quick glance at the Witch running the ceremony, who nods her approval. His eyes flick between all the other Witches who are helping, and Reynir feels his anxiety ramp up. He shuts his eyes a moment, trying to draw on a feeling of calm. When he opens them again, he looks at Onni, and Onni only. That makes it easier. ]
Onni, you're- you're the first one who ever believed in me. You act like that's not a big deal, but... it is, to me. You've saved my life so many times, and- you're the person I think of first whenever something funny or sad or whatever happens, who I want to talk to about it. I - want to save you and help you, too. I want to be there for you when you need someone. I want to... teach you things you didn't have a chance to learn, and to learn from you, too. I want to keep you safe and- make you smile, as much as I can.
[ As he's speaking, halting at first, and then with increasing ease, a little smile begins tugging at the corner of Reynir's mouth. There's warmth in his green eyes, fondness and hope wrapped up together. ]
I promise to do my best to be worthy of your trust. To - respect you, and protect you, and stick by your side, no matter what happens. Because... you're my friend, and I love you, and you deserve to have somebody looking out for you for once. So I'm gonna. I'm gonna do whatever I can to be that somebody.
[ He lets out another shaky sigh, and then gives a small, resolute nod, glancing to the older Witch to let her know he's finished. ]
[Onni feels strangely devoid of anxiety, suddenly. There are witches standing all around them and Reynir is holding his hands, squeezing tightly, looking nervous and hesitant, closing his eyes (probably to try to think) and then opening them to look at Onni. For a second, they stand there, and Onni feels a deep, deep sense of being completely exposed and vulnerable. It isn't the group around them that's giving him that feeling, but the way Reynir looks at him as he starts to talk.
The vows that he says are surprisingly affecting, and with a dawning sense of horror, Onni feels his eyes going slightly wet, without having any idea why. Taking a few cautious breaths, he tries to hold back the wave of emotion that builds up in him at having someone say he wants to talk to Onni about everything that happens in his life before anyone else, that he wants to be trusted by him and learn from him and teach him, that he loves him and wants to look out for him. For a moment, Onni is bowled over by it. He didn't know that this was how Reynir felt about him, though some part of him thinks that maybe he should have known. It just doesn't make much sense.
When Reynir finishes and the witch leading the ceremony nods at Onni to encourage him to speak his own vows, suddenly his mind is completely blank. He doesn't have anything in him that's as earnest and kind and open and full of love as what Reynir had just said. But he has to speak, he has to make a vow, he has to say something. So he holds his breath for a moment, closes his own eyes, and draws up all the things he'd been thinking of earlier in the day, the conversation he'd had with Reynir about Reynir's monster changes and learning about frivolous things and the way Reynir had said he loved him and wanted to take care of him (and he realizes, abruptly, why that hit him so hard - the last person to say anything like that to him had been Tuuri, and before that, his mother).
He summons the soul of what he wants to say, and then opens his eyes, meeting Reynir's. As he speaks, he tries not to think too hard, he tries to put voice to the shapeless feelings and energies inside him, and because of that it comes out of him in that familiar Kalevala metre that flows from him so easily.]
You know that I think the world is a terrible place. That much hasn't changed. It used to be that everything was terrible outside of the tiny piece of the world I lived in, just me and everyone I had left. I still think the world is terrible, but...
[A pause, and he takes a deep breath before continuing.]
But then there was you, in my dreams and in my space and then eventually in my real life. You didn't make the world less terrible, but you made the part of it that I live in, that part of it that I feel like I can be safe in much bigger. Do you understand?
[A pause, and he forces a few deep breaths again, holding Reynir's eyes, his own almost glowingly pale and serious.]
I promise to keep letting you do that. It sounds stupid and small, but I don't let anyone do that. I promise to let myself trust you. I will keep believing in you and I'll keep you safe. You're a person I care about, and I will treat you that way. I...promise to be careful with you, and help you make use of your potential.
[For a moment, he holds his breath again, and then he nods at the witch doing the ceremony to indicate that he's done.]
[ Reynir listens to Onni, heart beating hard, face flushed from the intensity of his emotions. After saying all that, he feels raw, like an exposed nerve, sensitive to the slightest shift. At first, Onni starts by talking about the world being terrible, and for just a few seconds, Reynir is afraid. But then Onni says he made the part of the world in which Onni feels safe much bigger, and Reynir's breath catches in his throat. His fingers tighten against Onni's, but he holds back any other audible reaction.
But he can't help the smile that stretches across his face, for the rest of Onni's vow. It just gets broader and brighter with every word, Reynir's own eyes welling up as Onni says you're a person I care about and says he will let himself trust Reynir. He is remembering their conversation about frivolous things, too. He is remembering how just earlier today, he'd been letting himself doubt that Onni cared very much about him at all.
He tries to fix this moment, every detail of it, into his memory. Because right here, right now, he has no doubts. They aren't bound, yet. But he knows it. Onni cares about him, deeply. Even without a ritual. He has to swallow back a little laugh of relief and joy that bubbles up in his throat.
It almost doesn't register to him, when the Witch steps forward and does something or other in his peripheral vision. Binding their souls together, or something like that. Reynir doesn't look away from Onni, but he can feel it, the moment that the ritual is complete. It's like a door opening inside him, a rush of something pouring in, a release of pressure as if something is pouring out of him, as well. It's nothing like anything he has felt before.
Reynir feels warmth spreading all through his body, to each fingertip and to the top of his head and the soles of his feet. It's like a tug, from just beneath his breastbone, and a sense of... presence. Not-aloneness. And he can't hold back the little shocked laugh, now. ]
Oh.
[ He turns his attention outward again, gaze focusing on Onni, checking in to see how he is reacting to, no doubt, the same exact feeling. Checking in that he is okay. ]
Can you feel that?
[ The Witch is stepping away, but seems content to give them some space in this moment, and Reynir has very little spare room to worry about her or whether they ought to stop holding hands and make way for the next ceremony. All his thoughts are occupied with Onni and how he is adjusting to this. ]
[For a moment after he's finished speaking, he realizes that what he's said lacked the intensity of what Reynir said, lacked the same overt emotional openness, and he worries that he hadn't been good enough. But Reynir is smiling at him, that big bright wide grin that lights up the space around himself, somehow mesmerizing and completely foreign and confusing all at once. Reynir's eyes are shiny and he absolutely beams, and Onni's worry settles. The vows were for Reynir, after all, and it doesn't matter what any of the other observers think about what he said, because it's obvious that Reynir liked them.
Onni squeezes his hands a little, while the witch running the ritual does the completion of the spell, binding them together. He keeps looking at Reynir, his brows furrowing slightly as he feels that wash of warmth, intense like a ray of hot sunshine in the summertime, heating him from the inside out. And he can feel, at the same time, something inside himself opening up to the Icelander, vulnerable, a massive open space that's completely unguarded against him. It's a rush that is both terrifying and comforting at the same time, a gaping hole in his soul that doesn't hurt, that's sensitive, that releases some of the bound up pressure in him. Loosens the restraint that's been holding back all the intensity inside of him, and it's terrifying, a loss of control he can't tolerate and craves at the same time.
For a moment, he can't breathe, just looking at Reynir as the other man asks if he can feel that, asks if he's okay. Onni's fingers are still tight around Reynir's hands, and he realizes that his expression must be giving away what he's feeling. The fear and relief, the vulnerability, the overwhem.]
I'm okay. Are you okay?
[His voice is tight and he realizes his eyes are wet. Blinking a few times to dry them, he takes a tentative breath, and nods.]
[ It takes a moment for Reynir to recognize what is happening. There is no easing into the magical connection between them, no gradual learning period. When he first feels that fluttering of anxious vulnerability inside him, he can't parse it. It's not his own, exactly, but he feels it. Like an echo of an emotion...
Until he realizes, looking at Onni's face, what it must be. This is what Onni is feeling. This raw, exposed feeling, this uncertainty, is his. It's there in the strain of his voice and the unshed tears in his eyes, and it's there inside of Reynir, flowing in directly, unfiltered by expression and interpretation.
He acts on instinct, like he so often does, letting go of Onni's hand, but only so he can fling an arm around Onni's shoulders and steer him out of that magical circle, towards the door of the room, away from these witches and their observation. ]
Yeah. And I feel it, too. C'mon, let's get out of here, let's go home.
[ Normally, Reynir would smile at the witches for helping, would thank them and stay to chat. But the rest of the world is feeling oddly out of focus, and dim. Onni is pressed against him, immediate and warm and there and linked to him. So Reynir sweeps the both of them out the doors, using those long legs of his to steer the pair of them in the direction of the Coven's exit.
Maybe he ought to have asked, but he can just tell now, that this is what Onni needs. To be somewhere that feels safer, to have some quiet and solitude (well, except for Reynir) to sort out this new way of experiencing the world. ]
[It must be the new connection granted them by the bond that has Reynir doing exactly what Onni wants in that moment - telling him that they should go home, go somewhere private and away from all the prying eyes staring at him in a moment he feels so painfully vulnerable. Nodding, he goes along with Reynir, lifting his chin and offering the witches who'd done the ritual a little nod of thanks as they head out of the room and away from prying eyes.
Somehow, the way Reynir wraps an arm around his shoulders is comfortingly familiar, it's a gesture he's done a thousand times with Lalli when his cousin was feeling on edge and avoidant. Not a hug, but something like it, something safer. Usually when he's feeling like this, he's not a big fan of being touched, but the way Reynir touches him feels safe and familiar and so he goes along with it. He feels like a child being led away from danger, but he goes along with it, follows along beside Reynir as they make their way back to the home they share.]
Thank you.
[It's quiet, understated, but as they enter the front gate of the cottage, some of the pressure in his chest eases a little and he feels like he can breathe a little easier. There's less noise buzzing in his head, he feels less like an exposed nerve and he exhales softly.]
[ Reynir feels it, the lessening of that tight pressure in his chest. Is that his own relief, or Onni's? Or both? He thinks it might take a little practice, getting better at identifying the source of what he is feeling. Or maybe it will always be this blurry. No real way of knowing other than to just... wait.
He opens the door, follows Onni through and shuts it behind him. ]
I know! It's so weird! I mean, I knew it would be, but it's like...
[ What it might be like, however, eludes Reynir's ability to find words, so he just shakes his head, setting a hand against his chest for a moment, to indicate that slight tug, the feeling of presence.
Momentarily, he tries to do what's right. Tries to give Onni space, prove he'd meant what he said about not intruding on him, and doing what he can to maintain boundaries. But the moment that he lets go of Onni, moves away from all contact, he feels that lovely warmth thinning and draining away, and he feels a little lurching twist in his stomach.
So he moves back, taking Onni's arm again and steering the both of them to the couch. He's subtle about it, as they sit, but he keeps their knees pressed together, his shoulder leaning against Onni's as he exhales. ]
[Usually, Onni would want that space, would want to be left alone to think about things and process what's happening, but something in him doesn't want to be left alone right now. He's not sure if it's the influence of Reynir's emotions, because he knows that Reynir likes to be around people, that he's outgoing and warm and likes connection with other people when he's feeling stressed, or if it's because he isn't sure if he'll be able to process what's happening if he isn't close enough to keep feeling the connection. There's certainly a bleed-through of emotion and motivation and instincts, he can tell, but they aren't overwhelming, just a solid and warm presence.
And when they separate, he can feel it, the sudden draining cold, the barrenness of lack of contact that he isn't sure about the origin of, if it comes from Reynir or from himself or somehow from both of them. He doesn't like it any more than Reynir does, though, so he keeps close when Reynir pulls him over to the couch and makes sure their knees and shoulders are still pressed together. For a few moments, Onni stares forward, brow furrowed, feeling a little shellshocked, overwhelmed. It's going to hit him soon, he thinks, how different his life is going to be now, how he's now irrevocably tied to this person sitting beside him, but in the moment he's feeling a bit numb. Numb and raw and vulnerable.
He glances up when Reynir says his vows were really, really good, and exhales a little huff.]
[ Reynir gives a little half-laugh as he responds, immediately: ]
Well... of course they weren't, silly.
[ He looks at Onni, a puzzled smile on his face, affection swelling up in his chest. Reynir sighs, amusement and the tiniest bit of fond exasperation in it, and settles his head down onto Onni's shoulder. It's a careful operation, now that he has horns, but he tilts his head so that they aren't in the way, pressing his temple into the warmth of Onni's broad shoulder. ]
You're not an effusive guy. That's not who you are. But that doesn't mean I can't tell, when what you're saying means a lot.
[ And Reynir remembers it, that feeling of certainty he had, down to his bones, that Onni cared about him. The strength of that knowledge is wonderful, and he turns the feeling over and over a few times inside himself. The feeling of knowing he was important to Onni, the honored, frightened, excited feeling when Onni promised to keep on trusting him. Lingers on it, thinking that perhaps, giving Onni this evidence will be more effective than words. ]
I think it's a good thing we did this today. I feel... really good. Like, I think the magic's equalized between us and it was - I hadn't even noticed it 'cause it had been happening so gradually, but. I think I really was starting to need it.
[When Reynir tells him it's obvious that his vows wouldn't be as effusive coming from him, and calls him silly, Onni feels that surge of affection as if he's being hit by a wave. Blinking, he looks down at where Reynir, who has his head rested against his shoulder, with an expression of puzzlement. That feeling of warm affection is a little overwhelming, not because he's never felt that kind of affection before, but because he can tell that it's how Reynir is feeling about him. Onni has known that people loved him before, he's known love from his parents and from Tuuri, and he knows that Lalli loves him even if he's not so good at expressing it, but he's never experienced it in this way. Though he supposes it's not exactly normal to be experiencing it like this.]
Yes. You're right. I don't say things that I don't mean.
[It's quiet, and for a moment he just sits there and allows himself to bask in the warmth of that feeling, allows himself to accept that it's real even if he doesn't understand the reasons for it. There's a possibility that Reynir might become aware of that, the tentative, slightly uncertain acceptance and enjoyment of the affection he's projecting, but Onni doesn't let himself dwell on it too much, doesn't want to make himself recoil from the feeling.]
Ah. Yes. I can definitely feel the difference too. That sort of restless feeling is gone, I don't feel like my limbs are shaking.
[ Reynir lets out a pensive sigh, breath blowing against Onni's neck as he considers. Verbalizing his inner sensations - how it felt to do magic, his certainty about some things in the dream space, his feelings when they were too complex and deep - isn't his strong suit, in some ways. But he tries. ]
...foggy. Sort of like when you haven't had enough sleep, and things aren't lining up right in your head. Everything is still there, but shifted just enough that you... bump into corners where you shouldn't. I- don't really know how to describe it, apart from... a mist, and it's like a breeze came in and cleared it all away. And I hadn't even noticed how hard it was getting to see, until the sun was hitting the ground again.
[ He reaches up, touching those horns, now a few inches longer and beginning to show a distinct curl. Other changes had started, too - little ones, here and there. But thinking about them doesn't make his gut drop, in the same way. ]
[The way Reynir explains the feeling makes sense, and he nods, matching it up to his own experience with this weird magic. It's different for him, he thinks, sort of the opposite of what Reynir is saying. Usually he wouldn't say anything in response, but he finds himself speaking up anyhow, something he suspects partly springs from the sense of comfort he's feeling now, close to his bonded, but also probably springs in part from Reynir himself and the influence he's currently having on Onni's inner world.]
For me, it was similar to being constantly shocked with electricity, at a sort of low level, and now it's as if I have a lightning rod that makes it easier to channel that energy in the direction I want it to go.
[Glancing down, he sees Reynir brushing fingers against one of his horns. It's strange, how quickly Onni has gotten accustomed to seeing them there, poking out of Reynir's hair, growing slowly.]
Ah... constantly shocked doesn't sound good, at all. I'm - I'm glad I can be your lightning rod.
[ He sighs, turning his face a little to press his cheek harder against Onni's shoulder, quietly reveling at the warmth and solidity of his friend. His... Bond-mate? Bonded?
Reynir remembers something Gon said, about people who are Bonded enjoying contact more with one another. He'd seen this coming, somewhat. But it is even better than he'd expected. A feeling of rightness, and intimacy. ]
Really?
[ Reynir's cheeks feel warm, but his voice is smaller, full of hope. ]
You don't think they're ugly?
[ He knows how it sounds - vain, silly, self-centered. There are so many real things to be worrying about, dangers and uncertainties. At the same time, Reynir's stomach gives a little flop of anticipation and hope. ]
I can't say it was comfortable, but I'd gotten used to it. I didn't realize how much until the feeling cleared up.
[The way Reynir presses his face into Onni's shoulder is a little comforting, and even though Onni has never been necessarily averse to being touched or comforted that way, he's enjoying it more than he'd have anticipated. Lifting a hand, he drops it on Reynir's knee and pats it a couple of times in return, exhaling a tired sigh.]
It's good to be free of that.
[When Reynir asks him if he'd really meant it, about the horns, and if he doesn't think they're ugly, Onni snorts.]
Of course. Maybe you do have some memory problems...I just said that I don't say things I don't mean. They're not ugly at all, in fact I think they suit you in a sort of way. I've seen other people with horns here who look terrible, but you're not one of them.
[ It's just how Bonds work, of course - Reynir knows that. And yet, nonetheless, he feels a swell of pride in his chest, at the fact that he was the one who helped to dispel that feeling. That he is the reason Onni doesn't feel that way any longer. Not only that, but he's only too aware that Onni might pick up on that sudden, intense rush of pride and happiness.
He hadn't really thought of himself as someone who hid a lot, but he's finding, even after such a short amount of time connected to Onni, that that might have been naive. ]
Welllll, I mean, technically, you said they could look worse. That's not the same as saying they're not-ugly!
[ Reynir is smiling as he says it, and it's audible in his voice even if Onni can't see his face from this angle. Onni doens't think his horns are ugly. He thinks they suit him. Why does that make him so happy? ]
We should - talk more. Set up some ground rules. Like... if I notice you're feeling something, and I ask you about it, and you really, really don't want to talk about it, you've got a- a password, and I have to drop it, no questions asked. Or... some kind of rule about if we end up seeing each other's memories and that.
[It's strange, the feeling of experiencing, to a degree, the reaction of another person to something he's said. The sudden swell of pride and happiness that seems to surge into him from the place that Reynir's head is resting on his shoulder is perplexing and foreign and at first he isn't sure what he said or did to trigger something like that. It becomes a little more clear once Reynir explains his perception of 'could look worse' and 'not-ugly,' but it just clears up the particular thing he'd said that triggered the feeling and not why.
Onni suspects that this is going to be a line of thought he's going to be following a lot while he's bonded to Reynir.
For now, he lets it go, to be mulled over later, though there's a chance, he suspects, that Reynir might have felt some of that confusion and the letting go. The next topic that Reynir brings up is something easier to wrap his head around - setting ground rules and ensuring they have some form of boundary despite this situation. Nodding a little, he makes a considering 'hm' in his throat.]
That makes sense. I'd like to be able to say that I can't talk about something. I...
[A pause, and he feels, for a moment, a deep sense of shame about the depth of emotion inside him that he tries to keep hidden inside himself. But there's no point in avoiding it. All of it will be obvious to Reynir one way or another, so it's best to have something in place.]
There are some things that I feel or think about or remember that are very intense. I'm sure you'll notice them. But those things...some of them I just can't talk about. Not now. Maybe not ever.
[A deep breath, and he's glad that Reynir's head is on his shoulder so the younger man can't see his face, can't risk eye contact.]
It would be good to have a way to tell you which things those are.
[ Now is the moment when Reynir learns, for the first time, just how different it is, knowing that Onni is feeling bad, sympathizing and wanting to make it better, and actually feeling an echo of that feeling. It's like the bottom has dropped out of his stomach, that sudden inrush of shame, over something so small as admitting there are topics he would like to avoid.
Reynir knows, too, that what he is getting is nowhere near as intense as what Onni himself must be feeling, that it is filtered and diluted through the Bond. He lets that discomfort push at him, staying quiet and still and waiting for Onni to keep talking. ]
That's okay. You don't have to. Even if it's not ever.
[ In his mind, when he'd brought this up, he'd planning to crack a joke, lightheartedly tell Onni he wasn't giving him a get-out-of-jail-free card for any troublesome conversation. But he knows now, just from the embarrassed self-disgust Onni feels even broaching the subject, that he won't misuse their arrangement in that way.
So he abandons the idea of the joke and instead turns his mind to solutions. The trick is thinking of a word that will be memorable and distinctive, but not in itself be too upsetting or give that many connotations of emotion or fragility. That way, Onni might not feel quite so ashamed to actually take the out.
After a moment's quiet pondering, Reynir suggests: ]
How about... false asphodel? It's um, it's a kind of plant that grows in Iceland, and it's poisonous. Humans just know not to touch it, but sheep will graze on it without realizing, and it burns their mouths and they spit it out right away. It's something that... it looks harmless, but it's just - better not to touch it.
[There's something a little fragile about the moments between Onni's confession about his feelings and Reynir's response. Fragile because he's a little worried that Reynir will joke about it or push at it or demand to know more or what those thoughts and feelings and memories are about. But Reynir doesn't. He just says it's okay and he doesn't have to talk about it ever, if he doesn't want to.
It's a relief, and a moment later he registers that probably part of it is because Reynir had seen his past in that memory of Lalli's and that he'd been there when Tuuri had died. That he probably knows where those feelings and thoughts come from, probably knows what memories Onni is visiting when he feels them. For a moment, he misses Tuuri, even in her soft barely tangible bird form, and almost immediately after feeling that, he tries to tamp it down. But the emotion is too big to completely hide, and it leaks through, tinging all his thoughts with sadness.
When Reynir starts talking again, about what word they might use to communicate that something is too much to talk about, it becomes a bit easier to move past the lonely sadness that thinking about Tuuri brings up in him. The mention of a specific plant's name and the reason why it symbolizes what meaning they're interested in attributing to it makes sense, but Onni isn't entirely sure about the usage of it. Making a little hum in his throat, Onni shakes his head.]
So I would just say that to you, is that what you mean? Just the words 'false asphodel' like that? Or would I refer to the emotion or whatever as false asphodel?
[ Reynir hears the hesitancy in Onni's voice, feels it tugging at his insides as well. Is that ever going to stop feeling strange? Or will it always be like this? ]
Well, I was thinking, more like... if I'm asking you, 'Hey, Onni, what's up with you feeling super sad right now?' and you say you don't want to get into it, and I say something like, 'Hey I'm your friend and you should open up to me' you can say 'We're done with this, I'm calling false asphodel' or 'you're getting into false asphodel territory' or whatever, and that way I'll know to drop it.
[ Reynir lifts his head, finally, scooting to sit sideways on the couch so he can look at Onni. His knees press against the side of Onni's thigh, and his expression is earnest and stubborn. ]
I... want you to talk to me about stuff. When things are hard. And I - don't want you to underestimate me. You aren't gonna scare me off or hurt me, even if what you need to say is awful. But all of that - it's got limits. I know that. So this way, when it's really important. I'll know.
[ Reynir brightens with a thought, adds: ]
And I can use it, too. 'Cause, y'know. I've- got stuff I don't want to talk about sometimes. It goes both ways.
[While Reynir explains how they could use the term and in what possible situation, he has a moment of mild discomfort, wondering if that's going to happen often, if Reynir is going to push him when he's upset to the point he has to use that phrase. But he lets that go, because he does have the 'false asphodel' thing to fall back on, even as he wonders if he'll have to use it too frequently.
Part of him starts to worry, too, about how much of him Reynir is going to be seeing, becoming almost awkwardly aware of every emotion that passes through him and how it might be perceived. Particularly because Reynir's transient emotional spikes all seem to match what he's showing on the outside, and to be overwhelmingly positive - happiness and pride and relief - while Onni knows that his own are the opposite, hidden and negative. It's baffling, how Reynir can be like that when they come from the same world, and thinks in a resigned sort of way, that it must be because he was raised in safety in Iceland, with a good family.]
I don't know that talking about these things will be helpful. There isn't anything I can do about most of them, talking about it will just make me dwell on it and feel helpless.
[He doesn't look at Reynir, even as the younger man sits sideways on the couch and he feels that momentary drop in emotional temperature before Reynir's knees press against his thigh. That last comment earns him a snort, though.]
I find that hard to believe. I can't imagine you hiding anything.
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It is a relief that Reynir looks so pleased. He hadn't really thought about how short-notice it was, with this space opening up the same day, until Reynir had seemed surprised. Abruptly, Reynir is reminding him that he has to think of some sort of vow for the ritual ceremony, and he's not sure what to say - suddenly the time seems very short for him as well, and now his appetite is well and truly gone.]
I haven't written anything. But I will before it happens, I promise.
[When he says that, he meets Reynir's eyes pointedly, trying to make it clear that when he promises this, he's intending to follow through. Onni might not understand all the reasons why, but he can tell that it's important to Reynir, that not following through or saying something appropriate and genuine would hurt the Icelander. He has no intention of starting out a bond that way, on a note of hurt, because it would be a very bad omen for the rest of the time they're bonded.
Once they get the food cleared, Onni goes back up to his room to settle on his bed and think about what he intends to say. Lying on his back, he looks up at the ceiling and spends some actual time thinking about Reynir as a person. Thinking about the interactions they've had and the consideration Reynir has shown him, about Reynir's stubbornness and energy and how those things infuriate him but how they also push him to do things he wouldn't otherwise. Halfway through the afternoon, he re-reads the conversation they'd had about frivolous things and relationships and all of that, tries to understand it and yet again comes up with confusion. Reynir is strange and foreign and perplexing and overwhelming and very...bright, warm.
After a while, he falls asleep, curled up on his side on the bed, his back to the wall, and wakes up a few hours later, groggy and in need of water. Drinking some from the tap in the bathroom makes him more alert, and he realizes that the time is getting close, so he cleans himself up - he showers and washes his hair and tries to get it in some semblance of order afterward. He goes through his clothing until he finds something that looks decently presentable - a tunic and leather leggings, his boots, his fur cloak, but leaving the gloves behind.
After he's satisfied with his appearance, he leaves the house to wander the market a little, wanting to get a small gift for Reynir, because somehow it seems right to do so...it's difficult to decide what, because flowers seem wrong and he doesn't think Reynir likes sweets as much as he does. Eventually he settles on a tiny wooden carving of a dog that reminds him of both the Icelander's fylgja and the one he'd had to part with in order to get into the Silent World back in Finland. Wondering if Reynir had seen that to know the similarity, he tucks it into a pocket to be given after the ceremony.
Onni still hasn't written anything, but he thinks he knows the soul of what he intends to say, and that is all he's ever needed.
Reynir meets him by the doorway as he comes back inside, calling that he'll be out in a few moments.]
Ah, good. We're still walking together, then?
[Onni takes a few steps inside, craning his neck to look toward Reynir's room.]
What are you doing?
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[ Given the opportunity, he might continue fussing over his appearance for a few hours more, at a minimum. But the scheduled time for the bond doesn't allow for any more procrastination. So he tucks the last tuft of hair into place and steps out of his room.
All the fretting and other emotional turmoil of the day fall away when he sees Onni standing there, looking just so... Onni. Seeing him, being around him, has always set Reynir at ease in a way that he doesn't entirely understand. The tension in his shoulders drains away and he grins, green eyes bright with excitement. ]
Yes, yes, we can head off now, I'm ready.
[ Reynir doesn't exactly have an extensive wardrobe in this place, but he's wearing what he considers to be his nicest clothes. His hair is split into two braids, far more complex than his usual, which are looping around one another in a complicated pattern.
He also has something tucked away in his pocket - not a gift, but a few short versions of vows, or at least, the bullet points for them. ]
Onni - before we go, I just wanted to say... I just... thank you. For doing this for me. It means a lot to me.
[ And then, all in a rush, Reynir closes the distance to Onni and hugs him very tightly, long arms drawing him in tight. It's a quick embrace, and Reynir rubs at the back of his neck after, face flushed, looking pleased and a touch guilty. ]
Alright! Let's do this!
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Onni gives him a nod and turns toward the door, only to pause when Reynir asks him to wait. Turning back to Reynir with his brows slightly raised in curiosity, he's caught a little off-guard when Reynir blurts out his thanks, and that it means a lot to him, and then darts in and hugs him. Reynir's long arms are wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing tight, and Onni holds his breath for a moment.
He hasn't been hugged since Tuuri went off on that cursed mission. How long has it been? He doesn't even know how long it's been. For a moment, he clenches his jaw and rides through the wave of grief, as fresh today as it was the day he found out, and by the time Reynir lets go, he's clear-eyed and looking neutral again.]
Yes yes. I don't see why you would think I'd just let you go feral and hurt yourself or someone else, but you're welcome, I suppose.
[While the words sound pretty cranky, Onni's expression is just a little bit soft. Reaching out, he pats Reynir on the shoulder a couple times, and then nods as they head toward the door. Onni isn't used to so much physical contact, and isn't inclined much to initiating it, but the truth is that he doesn't mind it and never has. He isn't like Lalli, ducking away from hugs and shoving people away when they encroach on his personal space, at least not unless they're someone completely strange or who he actively dislikes, and Reynir is neither. The feeling of being hugged lingers on his body and the walk is pleasant, the world bathed in the warm orange glow of sunset.
It isn't a long trip to the Coven, and Onni holds the door open for Reynir, suddenly feeling a little anxious. Being in this place with all its magic hanging heavy in the air makes it feel a little more real, drives home that these are his last few minutes being completely alone in his own mind. Glancing over at Reynir, he tilts his head thoughtfully, and reaches out to catch at the edge of his sleeve with his fingers, pulling him along toward a hallway to the left.]
Come on. It's in a room this way.
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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. ]
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It isn't something special. It's just right.
That's why he brushes off the thanks the way he does, why he reminds Reynir that it isn't such a big deal. In the back of his mind, Onni does know that most people don't always do the right thing, especially if it costs them something, and he also knows that if Reynir is so thankful for Onni doing the right thing it probably means that he hasn't experienced it that often, but at the same time it feels weird to accept praise for it.
So instead, he just ignores the issue, mostly settled as it is, and leads Reynir to the room they need to be in, fetches the Coven Witch who will do the ceremony, and gets himself situated in the correct place inside the magic circle drawn on the floor. When Reynir asks if he can go first, Onni nods.]
If that's what you want.
[After a pause, he reaches out and takes Reynir's hands, holding them in his for a moment in a way that feels awkward, at least until he finds a way to link their fingers together, and then it feels right. Nodding in satisfaction, he lifts his chin so he can meet Reynir's eyes.]
When you're ready.
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Onni, you're- you're the first one who ever believed in me. You act like that's not a big deal, but... it is, to me. You've saved my life so many times, and- you're the person I think of first whenever something funny or sad or whatever happens, who I want to talk to about it. I - want to save you and help you, too. I want to be there for you when you need someone. I want to... teach you things you didn't have a chance to learn, and to learn from you, too. I want to keep you safe and- make you smile, as much as I can.
[ As he's speaking, halting at first, and then with increasing ease, a little smile begins tugging at the corner of Reynir's mouth. There's warmth in his green eyes, fondness and hope wrapped up together. ]
I promise to do my best to be worthy of your trust. To - respect you, and protect you, and stick by your side, no matter what happens. Because... you're my friend, and I love you, and you deserve to have somebody looking out for you for once. So I'm gonna. I'm gonna do whatever I can to be that somebody.
[ He lets out another shaky sigh, and then gives a small, resolute nod, glancing to the older Witch to let her know he's finished. ]
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The vows that he says are surprisingly affecting, and with a dawning sense of horror, Onni feels his eyes going slightly wet, without having any idea why. Taking a few cautious breaths, he tries to hold back the wave of emotion that builds up in him at having someone say he wants to talk to Onni about everything that happens in his life before anyone else, that he wants to be trusted by him and learn from him and teach him, that he loves him and wants to look out for him. For a moment, Onni is bowled over by it. He didn't know that this was how Reynir felt about him, though some part of him thinks that maybe he should have known. It just doesn't make much sense.
When Reynir finishes and the witch leading the ceremony nods at Onni to encourage him to speak his own vows, suddenly his mind is completely blank. He doesn't have anything in him that's as earnest and kind and open and full of love as what Reynir had just said. But he has to speak, he has to make a vow, he has to say something. So he holds his breath for a moment, closes his own eyes, and draws up all the things he'd been thinking of earlier in the day, the conversation he'd had with Reynir about Reynir's monster changes and learning about frivolous things and the way Reynir had said he loved him and wanted to take care of him (and he realizes, abruptly, why that hit him so hard - the last person to say anything like that to him had been Tuuri, and before that, his mother).
He summons the soul of what he wants to say, and then opens his eyes, meeting Reynir's. As he speaks, he tries not to think too hard, he tries to put voice to the shapeless feelings and energies inside him, and because of that it comes out of him in that familiar Kalevala metre that flows from him so easily.]
You know that I think the world is a terrible place. That much hasn't changed. It used to be that everything was terrible outside of the tiny piece of the world I lived in, just me and everyone I had left. I still think the world is terrible, but...
[A pause, and he takes a deep breath before continuing.]
But then there was you, in my dreams and in my space and then eventually in my real life. You didn't make the world less terrible, but you made the part of it that I live in, that part of it that I feel like I can be safe in much bigger. Do you understand?
[A pause, and he forces a few deep breaths again, holding Reynir's eyes, his own almost glowingly pale and serious.]
I promise to keep letting you do that. It sounds stupid and small, but I don't let anyone do that. I promise to let myself trust you. I will keep believing in you and I'll keep you safe. You're a person I care about, and I will treat you that way. I...promise to be careful with you, and help you make use of your potential.
[For a moment, he holds his breath again, and then he nods at the witch doing the ceremony to indicate that he's done.]
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But he can't help the smile that stretches across his face, for the rest of Onni's vow. It just gets broader and brighter with every word, Reynir's own eyes welling up as Onni says you're a person I care about and says he will let himself trust Reynir. He is remembering their conversation about frivolous things, too. He is remembering how just earlier today, he'd been letting himself doubt that Onni cared very much about him at all.
He tries to fix this moment, every detail of it, into his memory. Because right here, right now, he has no doubts. They aren't bound, yet. But he knows it. Onni cares about him, deeply. Even without a ritual. He has to swallow back a little laugh of relief and joy that bubbles up in his throat.
It almost doesn't register to him, when the Witch steps forward and does something or other in his peripheral vision. Binding their souls together, or something like that. Reynir doesn't look away from Onni, but he can feel it, the moment that the ritual is complete. It's like a door opening inside him, a rush of something pouring in, a release of pressure as if something is pouring out of him, as well. It's nothing like anything he has felt before.
Reynir feels warmth spreading all through his body, to each fingertip and to the top of his head and the soles of his feet. It's like a tug, from just beneath his breastbone, and a sense of... presence. Not-aloneness. And he can't hold back the little shocked laugh, now. ]
Oh.
[ He turns his attention outward again, gaze focusing on Onni, checking in to see how he is reacting to, no doubt, the same exact feeling. Checking in that he is okay. ]
Can you feel that?
[ The Witch is stepping away, but seems content to give them some space in this moment, and Reynir has very little spare room to worry about her or whether they ought to stop holding hands and make way for the next ceremony. All his thoughts are occupied with Onni and how he is adjusting to this. ]
Are you - okay?
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Onni squeezes his hands a little, while the witch running the ritual does the completion of the spell, binding them together. He keeps looking at Reynir, his brows furrowing slightly as he feels that wash of warmth, intense like a ray of hot sunshine in the summertime, heating him from the inside out. And he can feel, at the same time, something inside himself opening up to the Icelander, vulnerable, a massive open space that's completely unguarded against him. It's a rush that is both terrifying and comforting at the same time, a gaping hole in his soul that doesn't hurt, that's sensitive, that releases some of the bound up pressure in him. Loosens the restraint that's been holding back all the intensity inside of him, and it's terrifying, a loss of control he can't tolerate and craves at the same time.
For a moment, he can't breathe, just looking at Reynir as the other man asks if he can feel that, asks if he's okay. Onni's fingers are still tight around Reynir's hands, and he realizes that his expression must be giving away what he's feeling. The fear and relief, the vulnerability, the overwhem.]
I'm okay. Are you okay?
[His voice is tight and he realizes his eyes are wet. Blinking a few times to dry them, he takes a tentative breath, and nods.]
I feel it.
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Until he realizes, looking at Onni's face, what it must be. This is what Onni is feeling. This raw, exposed feeling, this uncertainty, is his. It's there in the strain of his voice and the unshed tears in his eyes, and it's there inside of Reynir, flowing in directly, unfiltered by expression and interpretation.
He acts on instinct, like he so often does, letting go of Onni's hand, but only so he can fling an arm around Onni's shoulders and steer him out of that magical circle, towards the door of the room, away from these witches and their observation. ]
Yeah. And I feel it, too. C'mon, let's get out of here, let's go home.
[ Normally, Reynir would smile at the witches for helping, would thank them and stay to chat. But the rest of the world is feeling oddly out of focus, and dim. Onni is pressed against him, immediate and warm and there and linked to him. So Reynir sweeps the both of them out the doors, using those long legs of his to steer the pair of them in the direction of the Coven's exit.
Maybe he ought to have asked, but he can just tell now, that this is what Onni needs. To be somewhere that feels safer, to have some quiet and solitude (well, except for Reynir) to sort out this new way of experiencing the world. ]
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Somehow, the way Reynir wraps an arm around his shoulders is comfortingly familiar, it's a gesture he's done a thousand times with Lalli when his cousin was feeling on edge and avoidant. Not a hug, but something like it, something safer. Usually when he's feeling like this, he's not a big fan of being touched, but the way Reynir touches him feels safe and familiar and so he goes along with it. He feels like a child being led away from danger, but he goes along with it, follows along beside Reynir as they make their way back to the home they share.]
Thank you.
[It's quiet, understated, but as they enter the front gate of the cottage, some of the pressure in his chest eases a little and he feels like he can breathe a little easier. There's less noise buzzing in his head, he feels less like an exposed nerve and he exhales softly.]
This is...strange.
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He opens the door, follows Onni through and shuts it behind him. ]
I know! It's so weird! I mean, I knew it would be, but it's like...
[ What it might be like, however, eludes Reynir's ability to find words, so he just shakes his head, setting a hand against his chest for a moment, to indicate that slight tug, the feeling of presence.
Momentarily, he tries to do what's right. Tries to give Onni space, prove he'd meant what he said about not intruding on him, and doing what he can to maintain boundaries. But the moment that he lets go of Onni, moves away from all contact, he feels that lovely warmth thinning and draining away, and he feels a little lurching twist in his stomach.
So he moves back, taking Onni's arm again and steering the both of them to the couch. He's subtle about it, as they sit, but he keeps their knees pressed together, his shoulder leaning against Onni's as he exhales. ]
Your vows were really, really good, Onni.
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And when they separate, he can feel it, the sudden draining cold, the barrenness of lack of contact that he isn't sure about the origin of, if it comes from Reynir or from himself or somehow from both of them. He doesn't like it any more than Reynir does, though, so he keeps close when Reynir pulls him over to the couch and makes sure their knees and shoulders are still pressed together. For a few moments, Onni stares forward, brow furrowed, feeling a little shellshocked, overwhelmed. It's going to hit him soon, he thinks, how different his life is going to be now, how he's now irrevocably tied to this person sitting beside him, but in the moment he's feeling a bit numb. Numb and raw and vulnerable.
He glances up when Reynir says his vows were really, really good, and exhales a little huff.]
They weren't as...
[He gestures vaguely.]
...effusive as yours.
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Well... of course they weren't, silly.
[ He looks at Onni, a puzzled smile on his face, affection swelling up in his chest. Reynir sighs, amusement and the tiniest bit of fond exasperation in it, and settles his head down onto Onni's shoulder. It's a careful operation, now that he has horns, but he tilts his head so that they aren't in the way, pressing his temple into the warmth of Onni's broad shoulder. ]
You're not an effusive guy. That's not who you are. But that doesn't mean I can't tell, when what you're saying means a lot.
[ And Reynir remembers it, that feeling of certainty he had, down to his bones, that Onni cared about him. The strength of that knowledge is wonderful, and he turns the feeling over and over a few times inside himself. The feeling of knowing he was important to Onni, the honored, frightened, excited feeling when Onni promised to keep on trusting him. Lingers on it, thinking that perhaps, giving Onni this evidence will be more effective than words. ]
I think it's a good thing we did this today. I feel... really good. Like, I think the magic's equalized between us and it was - I hadn't even noticed it 'cause it had been happening so gradually, but. I think I really was starting to need it.
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Yes. You're right. I don't say things that I don't mean.
[It's quiet, and for a moment he just sits there and allows himself to bask in the warmth of that feeling, allows himself to accept that it's real even if he doesn't understand the reasons for it. There's a possibility that Reynir might become aware of that, the tentative, slightly uncertain acceptance and enjoyment of the affection he's projecting, but Onni doesn't let himself dwell on it too much, doesn't want to make himself recoil from the feeling.]
Ah. Yes. I can definitely feel the difference too. That sort of restless feeling is gone, I don't feel like my limbs are shaking.
[A pause, and then somewhat carefully.]
What is it like for you, without the bond?
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[ Reynir lets out a pensive sigh, breath blowing against Onni's neck as he considers. Verbalizing his inner sensations - how it felt to do magic, his certainty about some things in the dream space, his feelings when they were too complex and deep - isn't his strong suit, in some ways. But he tries. ]
...foggy. Sort of like when you haven't had enough sleep, and things aren't lining up right in your head. Everything is still there, but shifted just enough that you... bump into corners where you shouldn't. I- don't really know how to describe it, apart from... a mist, and it's like a breeze came in and cleared it all away. And I hadn't even noticed how hard it was getting to see, until the sun was hitting the ground again.
[ He reaches up, touching those horns, now a few inches longer and beginning to show a distinct curl. Other changes had started, too - little ones, here and there. But thinking about them doesn't make his gut drop, in the same way. ]
It's. Steady now. I feel like me again.
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For me, it was similar to being constantly shocked with electricity, at a sort of low level, and now it's as if I have a lightning rod that makes it easier to channel that energy in the direction I want it to go.
[Glancing down, he sees Reynir brushing fingers against one of his horns. It's strange, how quickly Onni has gotten accustomed to seeing them there, poking out of Reynir's hair, growing slowly.]
You know, those could look worse.
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[ He sighs, turning his face a little to press his cheek harder against Onni's shoulder, quietly reveling at the warmth and solidity of his friend. His... Bond-mate? Bonded?
Reynir remembers something Gon said, about people who are Bonded enjoying contact more with one another. He'd seen this coming, somewhat. But it is even better than he'd expected. A feeling of rightness, and intimacy. ]
Really?
[ Reynir's cheeks feel warm, but his voice is smaller, full of hope. ]
You don't think they're ugly?
[ He knows how it sounds - vain, silly, self-centered. There are so many real things to be worrying about, dangers and uncertainties. At the same time, Reynir's stomach gives a little flop of anticipation and hope. ]
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[The way Reynir presses his face into Onni's shoulder is a little comforting, and even though Onni has never been necessarily averse to being touched or comforted that way, he's enjoying it more than he'd have anticipated. Lifting a hand, he drops it on Reynir's knee and pats it a couple of times in return, exhaling a tired sigh.]
It's good to be free of that.
[When Reynir asks him if he'd really meant it, about the horns, and if he doesn't think they're ugly, Onni snorts.]
Of course. Maybe you do have some memory problems...I just said that I don't say things I don't mean. They're not ugly at all, in fact I think they suit you in a sort of way. I've seen other people with horns here who look terrible, but you're not one of them.
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He hadn't really thought of himself as someone who hid a lot, but he's finding, even after such a short amount of time connected to Onni, that that might have been naive. ]
Welllll, I mean, technically, you said they could look worse. That's not the same as saying they're not-ugly!
[ Reynir is smiling as he says it, and it's audible in his voice even if Onni can't see his face from this angle. Onni doens't think his horns are ugly. He thinks they suit him. Why does that make him so happy? ]
We should - talk more. Set up some ground rules. Like... if I notice you're feeling something, and I ask you about it, and you really, really don't want to talk about it, you've got a- a password, and I have to drop it, no questions asked. Or... some kind of rule about if we end up seeing each other's memories and that.
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Onni suspects that this is going to be a line of thought he's going to be following a lot while he's bonded to Reynir.
For now, he lets it go, to be mulled over later, though there's a chance, he suspects, that Reynir might have felt some of that confusion and the letting go. The next topic that Reynir brings up is something easier to wrap his head around - setting ground rules and ensuring they have some form of boundary despite this situation. Nodding a little, he makes a considering 'hm' in his throat.]
That makes sense. I'd like to be able to say that I can't talk about something. I...
[A pause, and he feels, for a moment, a deep sense of shame about the depth of emotion inside him that he tries to keep hidden inside himself. But there's no point in avoiding it. All of it will be obvious to Reynir one way or another, so it's best to have something in place.]
There are some things that I feel or think about or remember that are very intense. I'm sure you'll notice them. But those things...some of them I just can't talk about. Not now. Maybe not ever.
[A deep breath, and he's glad that Reynir's head is on his shoulder so the younger man can't see his face, can't risk eye contact.]
It would be good to have a way to tell you which things those are.
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Reynir knows, too, that what he is getting is nowhere near as intense as what Onni himself must be feeling, that it is filtered and diluted through the Bond. He lets that discomfort push at him, staying quiet and still and waiting for Onni to keep talking. ]
That's okay. You don't have to. Even if it's not ever.
[ In his mind, when he'd brought this up, he'd planning to crack a joke, lightheartedly tell Onni he wasn't giving him a get-out-of-jail-free card for any troublesome conversation. But he knows now, just from the embarrassed self-disgust Onni feels even broaching the subject, that he won't misuse their arrangement in that way.
So he abandons the idea of the joke and instead turns his mind to solutions. The trick is thinking of a word that will be memorable and distinctive, but not in itself be too upsetting or give that many connotations of emotion or fragility. That way, Onni might not feel quite so ashamed to actually take the out.
After a moment's quiet pondering, Reynir suggests: ]
How about... false asphodel? It's um, it's a kind of plant that grows in Iceland, and it's poisonous. Humans just know not to touch it, but sheep will graze on it without realizing, and it burns their mouths and they spit it out right away. It's something that... it looks harmless, but it's just - better not to touch it.
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It's a relief, and a moment later he registers that probably part of it is because Reynir had seen his past in that memory of Lalli's and that he'd been there when Tuuri had died. That he probably knows where those feelings and thoughts come from, probably knows what memories Onni is visiting when he feels them. For a moment, he misses Tuuri, even in her soft barely tangible bird form, and almost immediately after feeling that, he tries to tamp it down. But the emotion is too big to completely hide, and it leaks through, tinging all his thoughts with sadness.
When Reynir starts talking again, about what word they might use to communicate that something is too much to talk about, it becomes a bit easier to move past the lonely sadness that thinking about Tuuri brings up in him. The mention of a specific plant's name and the reason why it symbolizes what meaning they're interested in attributing to it makes sense, but Onni isn't entirely sure about the usage of it. Making a little hum in his throat, Onni shakes his head.]
So I would just say that to you, is that what you mean? Just the words 'false asphodel' like that? Or would I refer to the emotion or whatever as false asphodel?
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Well, I was thinking, more like... if I'm asking you, 'Hey, Onni, what's up with you feeling super sad right now?' and you say you don't want to get into it, and I say something like, 'Hey I'm your friend and you should open up to me' you can say 'We're done with this, I'm calling false asphodel' or 'you're getting into false asphodel territory' or whatever, and that way I'll know to drop it.
[ Reynir lifts his head, finally, scooting to sit sideways on the couch so he can look at Onni. His knees press against the side of Onni's thigh, and his expression is earnest and stubborn. ]
I... want you to talk to me about stuff. When things are hard. And I - don't want you to underestimate me. You aren't gonna scare me off or hurt me, even if what you need to say is awful. But all of that - it's got limits. I know that. So this way, when it's really important. I'll know.
[ Reynir brightens with a thought, adds: ]
And I can use it, too. 'Cause, y'know. I've- got stuff I don't want to talk about sometimes. It goes both ways.
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Part of him starts to worry, too, about how much of him Reynir is going to be seeing, becoming almost awkwardly aware of every emotion that passes through him and how it might be perceived. Particularly because Reynir's transient emotional spikes all seem to match what he's showing on the outside, and to be overwhelmingly positive - happiness and pride and relief - while Onni knows that his own are the opposite, hidden and negative. It's baffling, how Reynir can be like that when they come from the same world, and thinks in a resigned sort of way, that it must be because he was raised in safety in Iceland, with a good family.]
I don't know that talking about these things will be helpful. There isn't anything I can do about most of them, talking about it will just make me dwell on it and feel helpless.
[He doesn't look at Reynir, even as the younger man sits sideways on the couch and he feels that momentary drop in emotional temperature before Reynir's knees press against his thigh. That last comment earns him a snort, though.]
I find that hard to believe. I can't imagine you hiding anything.
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