[semi-open] backing away from the problem of pain

[scowlish]

Who: Onni & whoever else!
When: Throughout Septeril
Where: Aefenglom and the Wilde
What: An Apple a Day quest, open general prompt, catch-all for the month
Warnings: clearly marked in subject lines/headers - spoilers, violence, death, body horror, decay, various other types of gross-out



❄ Open Prompts

❄ i. An Apple a Day

Several prompts for moth-induced hallucinations. Content warnings: violence, death, orphaned/traumatized children, body horror, animal-related mutation/decay/rotting imagery, general gross-out monsters

❄ ii. Tunnel Clearing

Content warnings: violence, possible emeto

❄ iii. Magic Practice

Practicing, leveling up spells, open to coaching other Witches. Content warnings: n/a, tba if needed

❄ iv. Wildcard

Write me a random starter or contact me by PM or on Discord at coffee #6251 or private plurk or ping at caffemisto

Comments

❄ An Apple a Day

[scowlish]

[Any of these prompts would be happening in the course of one visit to the orchard, because after any of this he wouldn't be foolish enough to go back out there. I'm playing 'what is a timeline anyway?' with these prompts and will treat any new response as if it's the first. I'm also open to melding any or all of them together into one mega-hallucination, so if you're interested in that just give me two or more prompt numbers and I'll combine!]

Introduction: The Orchard

[Up until this point, the mask that had come with him from home hasn't failed to protect him (as far as he can tell) from the various environmental threats that this world has to offer. So he'd had no real reason to suspect that when he accepted the job offer to go out into the apple orchards to help with the harvest that his mask wouldn't filter out the spores from the powdery wings of the Nightmare Moths. Helping with the harvest is a comfortingly familiar thing, something he'd done from when he was a child until he'd gone to Keuruu at fifteen. And so, when the spores start to kick in, he's at his ease and not paying as much attention to his surroundings as he should be, as he usually does.

Until he is.]

i. Toivosaari. Onni's tragic backstory; cw: violence, familial death/orphaning, traumatisation of children

[The first thing that catches his attention, at the periphery of his perception, is the vague scent of smoke on the air. At first, it doesn't particularly register as strange - plenty of people have wood-burning stoves here, or have lit campfires or bonfires to have gatherings around. But after the first few whiffs of that smoky fire scent, it starts to change. It isn't the warm, comforting scent of smoke from a fire for cooking or warming up, there's no suggestion of smoked meat in the smell; instead, it's acrid, with an edge of hot metal and machine oil, of burning blood and hair and fur and Rash-tainted ichor, and his breath catches.

Head jerking up, he looks around himself, his eyes wide over the top of his mask, breath speeding up and heart racing suddenly. When the first gunshot sounds, somewhere in the far distance, he actually flinches, and he drops the half-full basket of apples he'd been holding. Looking around himself, adrenaline pulsing through his system, he jerks his head toward the sound of more gunshots, and then the sound of a woman's scream on the wind.

It's his mother. Abruptly, like the feeling of a knife slamming into his gut, he's sure of it, sure that the scream is his mother's voice, as sure of it as he is of the sound of his own voice. The speed of his breathing has picked up, he registers in a distant sort of way that he's beginning to panic. It has to be his imagination, he thinks, until he hears it again, and he makes a tiny noise of distress, looking around himself. Locking eyes with the person closest, he speaks, voice a little shaky.]

Did you hear that?

ii. The Swan. cw: violence, sibling death, grief, possible mention of suicide

[A shadow falls over him.

His first instinct is not to think anything of it. It's just the shadow of a bird flying overhead, soaring through the sky. But it only takes a second to register the familiarity of it, the size and shape that's impossible to mistake for anything else. Too large to be a normal earthly bird, with her long delicate neck and her massive wingspan, gliding silent and graceful through the sky above, it can't be anything but the Swan.

Head jerking back, he looks upward at it, his breath caught in his throat as he watches her soar uncaring across the sky, her wings sunset-orange, and behind her the tiny soft round puffball of a bird that is his sister's soul. In an instant, the gut-wrenching agony of that moment comes back to him, the realization of what it meant and the denial and emptiness that followed.]

No.

[Falling to his knees, he stares, wide-eyed, and then he's back on his feet, running blindly after the shapes in the sky.]

Come back!

iii. Beasts. cw: violence, gore, animal-related body horror/mutation, decay/rotting, GROSS

[It's the smell that hits him first, that distinct acrid, toxic smell of decay that precedes anything crawling its way out of the forest that used to be an animal. At first he thinks it might be one of the Shades, but the smell is too familiar, and when he hears the movement of the thing or things just on the other side of the closest line of trees, he knows it on an instinctual level. Before he even really registers it with a thought, he's pulling his bow from his back, and then an arrow, which he nocks with a familiar grace.

The things that come out of the trees toward him are horrific mimicries of animals - a bear with fur that looks like it's melting off and spears sticking out of its back, a few cows with their eyes crawling with maggots and their mouths dark red with toxic blood, wolves with their fur melting off and their bones exposed. Brows furrowing, he steps forward in front of whoever might be nearby, drawing his arrow, heart pounding and body thrumming with adrenaline.]

Stay behind me.

II.

[sing_for_me]

[ Alex is arranging the apples in her own basket to make sure they don't topple over when she hears someone yelling. The voice gets closer--and turns out to be way too close as she looks up to find someone running right into her. ]

Ah!

[ With his build bigger and a lot sturdier than her own, it doesn't take all that much to knock her over, the apples scattering across the ground. This would be her luck, wouldn't it? ]

What are you running from..?

[ She asks, her tone exasperated but not quite annoyed yet. ]

[scowlish]

[Usually, Onni is pretty aware of what's going on around him, even moreso after having been in the Silent World for as long as he has been. Generally, it's a matter of life and death, he needs to be aware of where he's going and what might be lurking around whatever corner or beyond another patch of trees. But all of that caution completely left him the moment he saw the Swan and his sister, flying away from him, leaving him alone.

And so he accidentally barrels into a young woman, smaller and lighter than him, and both of them topple over. Letting out a huffed 'oof' at the impact, he scrambles back off her and pushes himself into a sitting position, his pale blue eyes scanning the sky, expression almost pannicked. It barely registers that the girl has asked him what he's running from, and he shakes his head.]

Not from. After. My sister.

[Lifting a hand, he points toward the barely visible silhouette of the Swan and the tiny bird fluttering after her.]

❄ Tunnel Clearing

[scowlish]

[Onni is not an adventurous person, by nature. Though he's had to step very far outside his comfort zone since Tuuri and Lalli went off on that ill-advised adventure into the Silent World, for a wide variety of reasons, putting himself in danger isn't something that comes naturally to him. And yet, after having helped to purge the leylines in this area before, he can't bring himself to turn down an opportunity to help remove the last of the infection and restore the fungus garden. Even if he doesn't particularly care about gardening or fungi, himself.

Sunk cost fallacy, probably.

Either way, it's familiar enough and actually easier now that he's practiced his magic more, practiced silent spells and more difficult spells. Wearing his mask to (hopefully) filter out any spores that might linger, he's armed with his sturdy hunting knife and a spear with a sharp point at either end, though he's left his bow and arrows at home. There's little point to that in a tunnel, he thinks.

It isn't until an hour or so into the clearing, carefully resting his fingers against veins of disease and flushing them out with a steady flow of magic, whispering chants under his breath or silently speaking them, that he first runs into the wights. There are two of them, dragging their arms along the ground, skin a sickly white, looking emaciated, their teeth bared - they're just short enough to be under his gaze as he clears a vein at eye level. It's his instincts honed from being in the Silent World that save him, and he steps back just in time to avoid the swipe of a hand and the bite of those nasty teeth.]

Ah!

[A tiny, startled yelp, and then he has his knife out, brandishing it in front of himself as the thing opens its mouth to cry out-]

❄ Magic Practice

[scowlish]

[To anyone who's frequently in the Coven training halls, Onni has probably become something of a fixture. Whenever he isn't working odd jobs or constructing the sauna in the backyard of the cottage he shares with Reynir, he's at the Coven practicing magic, determined to get back to the level of skill he'd had at home. Since he's gone through the Bonding ritual, magic has become much easier to cast, his mind is clearer and it comes more quickly, it's easier to channel into the forms he wants it to be in.

It's thanks to the Bond that he's found himself able to do more technically advanced spells, ones that he's found in texts and ones that he's mimicking from spells he knew at home.

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes, lifts his hands and focuses hard, just for a moment, before he starts to speak. Voice carefully controlled, a little deeper than it usually is when he speaks normally, he chants in that familiar metre, rising and falling with a practiced ease as he feels the magic building up in him. He can feel it, the presence of his luonto, the shape of an owl that comes to embrace him, like a physical presence despite being invisible. Calling upon that spirit, and bringing up in himself the emotion he associates with this spell - wanting to be somewhere else, anywhere else - he lifts his hands, palms upward, and then drops them down and outward.

A light, pale blue and slightly glowing mist surrounds him for a moment, and then he's gone, reappearing a moment later across the room. Breathing hard, chest rising and falling heavily, he squares his shoulders, and though he's not quite smiling he's certainly pleased with himself.

It's only then that he realizes he might have had an audience.]

Ah. It worked.

[A pause, and he looks around thoughtfully. The room is certainly big enough for two people to practice, and he's always thrived by practicing with others. After all, it's how he'd learned magic in the first place.]

Did you want to practice with me?

[closed to Reynir] ❄ dreamshare ❄ cw: spoilers for the most recent flashback SSSS pages

[scowlish]

[It's been a couple of months now, but Onni still hasn't gotten used to dreaming, much less nightmares. Every time it happens, it still catches him by surprise and he doesn't realize it's happening, completely unaware of the fact that it isn't part of his dream realm, something happening to his conscious mind. It's a strange tangle, and one that makes the dreams he has here particularly vivid and real to him, being so used to a sort of lucid dream space where he's in control of himself and, to some extent, his surroundings.

This one starts with the cool evening air nipping at him as he stands on a rocky outcrop overlooking a deep pool of water. The scents and sensations of that moment are so vivid, burned into his mind with a crystal clarity that makes him shiver, and then there's the feeling of falling, careening toward the surface of the water and all the darkness and fear underneath it. The impact against the surface is jarring, he gasps desperately for a breath when the cold of the water feels like it's going to suck any chance for breath out of him, and then he's underneath the surface, plummeting deeper and deeper. Lifting his hands, he presses them to his mouth as the urgent demands of his lungs start kicking in, he feels that cloying terror of being unable to breathe when he wants to.

There are shapes in the water around him - coiling and dark, the outlines of monsters that lurk a shade darker than black in the water around him, and the urgent desperation of his body's need to breathe is joined by the animal terror of being prey surrounded by predators.

And then the darkness gives way, just a little, and he can see them - the spirits of those who'd gone to Tuonela before him. It's as if the shards holding the sleeping forms of his family are calling to him, a silent siren song of familiarity and warmth and loneliness all at once. The souls of family tend to rest together, in the legends, and it isn't just Tuuri he can feel nearby.

The terror outweighs the temptation to gather up more than just hers, even as his hand gently closes around her sleeping form.]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir isn't aware of the precise moment when he is pulled into the dream. Maybe he was in it just as long as Onni, maybe he was brought there when Onni started to feel distress. All at once, though, he moves from blank sleep to a dream. He can feel that it is a dream and, perceptibly, that it is different than the dreams he usually has in this place. He also feels a compulsion in a particular direction, like something hooked into his ribs and tugging.

He is an intuitive person, and follows that feeling immediately, wasting no time. Onni's panic, even though he can't see the source of it and isn't aware yet that it is coming from Onni, calls him like a beacon. After only a moment or two (time is slippery and hard to quantify in the dream), Reynir is running flat-out. He barely registers the surroundings (Finland, maybe?), just bolting towards... whatever it is.

When he comes to the cliff, he doesn't hesitate. He dives, plunging into the icy water. The impact is wrong - physical sensations in dreams, since he came through the mirror, are so strange. There is an awareness of them, but he can't actually feel the water, the way he would in the dreamspace.

But there's no time to linger on that, because he sees Onni there, in the water beside him. And there's something else, too. A lot of small something elses, floating all around them. Shards of... something? But what are those shapes inside?

Reynir reaches out, gripping Onni's shoulder, to alert him of his presence, since Onni is still facing away. Reaching out for one of those shapes? Why? ]

[scowlish]

[When someone's hand closes around his arm, Onni jerks, startled, and his mouth falls open, he exhales a small cloud of bubbles and suddenly the struggle to breathe is clouding out every other thought and feeling. His lungs ache, his throat hurts, his ears are ringing, it goes on and on and then...

He still can't breathe, but for some reason, it's okay. Dream logic, maybe? Or perhaps it's because he could breathe then, when the Swan arrived.

Glancing behind himself, he registers the red-orange of Reynir's hair first, and for a moment he thinks that his braid is the neck of the Swan, which has him flinching again. The terror is pounding through him still, even as he pulls the shard holding Tuuri's sleeping spirit against his chest. But it's just Reynir, and though the adrenaline still pounds through his system, something in him relaxes a little. He hadn't been alone last time, maybe this time...

But no. He can't let the Swan think he's brought Reynir to substitute for his grandmother.

Then she's in front of them, staring at him with those eyes, righteously angry, vengeful, and he lifts his arm in front of his face, hands shaking. Her voice echoes in a way it shouldn't be able to in water like this.]

Your life ends now.

[He protests, he says 'no' over and over again, he tries to plead his case, he keeps himself between her and Reynir, he gives Tuuri up with a choking in his throat, tears welling up as he watches her go back to floating near the rest of his family.]

No, no, I wasn't finished yet. I didn't bring him to replace her, I don't know why he's here! And I didn't have time, I was taken away! I wasn't...I wasn't here, I was somewhere else! I didn't want to go, it wasn't my fault!

[It sounds pathetic, and his gulping struggles to breathe feel like they're going to choke the life out of him. A moment later, he realizes they are, that he can't breathe again, that the water is going down his throat, that his hands are coming up to his mouth, clawing at his throat, and then everything is black.

When he wakes up again, it's like he's floating in a void, and he's crying. Eyes wide, he turns his head, barely able to move, looking to see if Reynir is here, to make sure he hasn't doomed another innocent with his stupid, stupid deal.]

[braidmage]

[ Since they became Bonded, Reynir has gone out of his way to respect Onni's privacy. He knows that in the past he has trespassed without meaning to or realizing, so he has been extra vigilant not to disrespect Onni's space, to consider if his presence or his questions are really necessary, at any given moment.

After he startles awake from that nightmare, however, all that goes right out the window. Reynir bolts from his bed, throwing the blankets off onto the floor as he crosses the room in huge steps, bursting from his bedroom around to Onni's, not even knocking on the door before he throws it open. He is shaking like a leaf as he makes his way to Onni's bed, dropping onto it and hauling Onni into a hug, messily, ferociously. It's difficult to say how much of the terror is his own and how much is being pumped into him by Onnia via their bond. But Reynir is very, very afraid - that sharp, crystallized fear that comes with adrenaline, with genuine life-or-death threats.

The fear is paralyzing Onni; Reynir knows it, somehow, feels it in Onni's tense muscles, in the worried little gasps of air he's breathing. Reynir buries a hand into Onni's hair, hiding his face in his friend's shoulder for a moment, struggling to force his sleepy throat and mouth into forming words: ]

What. What was- that dream- what were you talking about?!

[ If he'd had any doubt that it was the real Onni there in the dream, saying those things, it would've disappeared the moment he saw Onni's wide eyes and tear-streaked face. That nightmare had meant a great deal to him. What was it he'd said. He wasn't finished with something - something he was supposed to do, before he got brought through the mirror. Something that, if he failed to do it... ]

That- that swan, wh-what was it?

[scowlish]

[It takes a long few moments to register that he's awake and alive and in the real world and not in the dream anymore. That voice keeps echoing in his mind - Your life ends now.

It repeats itself over and over and he can't move, paralyzed with fear, too afraid to move or draw attention to himself. His body is tense and his eyes are wide, tears are rolling down his cheeks, he can almost feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins, his heart is pounding, he's pulling tiny breaths into a seized up chest, ribcage refusing to expand to allow more space for air. When the door to his room snaps open, he flinches with a whole body twitch, he gasps in shock, and then Reynir is dropping onto his bed, pulling him up into a sitting position and wrapping his long, surprisingly strong arms around him.

Body still tense for a second, his mind races, and then he lifts shaking hands and arms to wrap around Reynir's body, feeling the warmth and solidity of it. She hadn't taken him for that second soul, the Swan had let them go. It's only when Reynir asks him what the dream was about that he realizes it wasn't real. All of it had felt real, too real, he can still barely breathe, and then tears well up in his eyes and spill down his cheeks, he hugs Reynir tighter, fingers digging into the back of his shirt. He doesn't know how to answer about the dream until Reynir asks what the swan was, and he flinches again.]

The Swan of Tuonela.

[It comes out soft and a little shaky, and his fist closes into the back of Reynir's nightshirt.]

She presides over the sleeping souls of dead Finns.

[braidmage]

[ It feels right in a way that Reynir hadn't really expected, clutching Onni to his chest like this, so tightly it's like he's trying to pull the other man inside himself. Is that the Bond? Is it just because of how he feels for Onni?

He doesn't have time to wonder about that, though, because Onni's face is wet with hot tears and Reynir can feel him shaking, too. The pair of them sit there, clutching one another, desperate and trembling. Reynir rubs his hand up and down Onni's back, a soothing, mindless motion. It's all too obvious to him, just hearing Onni's breathing, in addition to feeling the panic coming through their Bond, that Onni is just barely holding himself together. He's so very scared.

More scared, Reynir realizes, than entirely makes sense.

This may be the first nightmare that Onni has had since they went through the ceremony to tie their souls together, but Reynir had heard the others, checked up on Onni after them. He usually pulled himself together more quickly than this. And there was something else. An edge of... confusion, that Reynir can't quite work out just yet. ]

Oh. One of... your gods?

[ That would make sense - it would account for how a creature so small and relatively unintimidating in stature had inspired such awe and absolute terror. She had been a goddess, and Onni knew that. ]

And all those things, in the water, they were souls?

[ Reynir keeps on rubbing at Onni's back, shifting and sitting up so he can press his cheek against Onni's. It's an unusual gesture, maybe, and probably not one he would have thought of before he'd started to go all Monster-y. He can feel the damp of tears on Onni's cheek, how flushed his skin is, the heat from all that fear. ]

It's okay, Onni. It was just a dream, a harmless dream. Dreams here are just nonsense, it wasn't real. She can't hurt you.

[scowlish]

[Usually he'd be quick to pull away from this kind of thing. He might not object to physical contact all that much, but he's also not one to seek it out too much or to let himself be comforted by it too much, too worried about what will happen if he becomes reliant on it. But he can't seem to pull away from Reynir now, not with the fear that's in him, clawing his insides out and vibrating in his bones, not with the way he feels like he's going to fall apart if he lets go of him right now. The only control he can exert over himself is to try to stop himself from crying, but that's also completely useless, because every time he breathes more tears spill down his cheeks and all he can do is clench his fist really tight into Reynir's shirt and struggle to ground himself with it.

When Reynir asks about whether the Swan is one of his gods, Onni lets out a few long, shuddering breaths, his eyes squeezed shut, two more hot tears leaking from under his eyelids.]

Yes. She...she is. And they were...they were souls. My family, and Tuuri...

[That name makes his voice break, he can nearly see her in his mind, her soft fluffy little bird's body, sleeping in that shard of water. Another breath comes out of him in a deep shuddering sob, and he presses his face against Reynir's shoulder as the younger man pushes his own cheek against his. Reynir is trying to tell him it was just a harmless dream, that it was nonsense, that she's not real and she can't hurt him, and he shakes his head.

It takes a while before he can speak again, mind reeling with all the reasons that what Reynir had just said are wrong. It's all so clear in his mind, that he had the summer, just the summer and then she would take two souls one way or another. That was months ago, it's been longer than the summer that he's been here, and what if time doesn't actually stop back home? What if they're wrong? What if time has passed and he's lost his chance to kill the kade and now his soul is forfeit?

He's going to die.

Fist clenching harder into Reynir's shirt, he takes a few deep, shuddering breaths to try to calm himself. It doesn't do much, but he manages to get enough breath in him to speak.]

It wasn't just a dream, Reynir. It was real, and she can hurt me. She will.

[Something in him goes numb, when he says it out loud, and he pulls back from Reynir, looking at him, his pale eyes outlined with red, his body still trembling a little.]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir hadn't anticipated how much touching Onni, holding him like this, would amplify the emotional feedback he was getting from him through the Bond. He can feel Onni struggling against the suffering and sadness, trying to contain it, even as it spills over those walls, too fast and too much to be tamped down any longer.

When Onni confirms his guess that those sleeping forms were souls, explains they weren't just any souls, but his family, Reynir's heart aches. It's not that much of a surprise, then, when Onni says the one he'd been clutching had been Tuuri. Because of course it had been.

Reynir's voice has gone quiet when he says: ]

Ah.

[ And then even before Onni speaks, Reynir knows something is amiss, that he'd said something wrong, hit some nerve. He had hoped to give reassurance, to at least ease some of the panic, if not the grief that came along with the dream. But instead, Onni's fear twists tighter, and Reynir feels it in his own stomach. He's scared, urgently, immediately, as if there were some predator in the room with them right now and he's only just remembered to look for it.

It hits Reynir like a fist to the stomach, knocking the breath from him. He isn't sure, but he thinks it might be worse, feeling that level of dread but having no idea why, no understanding of its source. ]

What... do you mean, Onni? I don't understand...

[ Reynir doesn't have any idea what's going on, but he knows Onni isn't lying, that this isn't some question of miscommunication. He sounded so certain, when he declared that the swan will hurt him. That nightmare hadn't just been drawing on mythology and coming up with some scenario that would make Onni anxious... there is some kernel of truth, and it's not anything Reynir has known about. Which means Onni has been hiding it.

And Reynir knows Onni well enough by now to know that the only things he hides are the last things Reynir would want him to hide - his own misery, his own self-destructive choices, his reckless lack of care for his own value and life.

Some new panic of his very own starts to close up Reynir's throat, and his voice is shaky as he asks, a bit more firmly. ]

What're you talking about?

[scowlish]

[The question wasn't unexpected, and if he'd had the presence of mind to do so, Onni probably would have avoided mentioning anything about it being more a memory than a fabrication of his unconscious mind, because he knows that Reynir gets upset when he finds out Onni has shown anything less than complete care for himself. Even without the Bond he would have known that Reynir wouldn't approve of the deal he'd made with the Swan, and he would have chosen to just keep the details to himself. But right now, his sense blown away by the panic, it's come out unfiltered and instinctive, because Reynir is holding him and rubbing his back and comforting him and all that worry and affection and concern is leaking into him through the Bond and the contact and part of him wants to just give over to the comfort of it.

So it comes out, and Reynir's spike of worry, like an icepick in the gut, comes through the bond just as apparently as his worry and affection had.

Onni looks at him, feeling a spike of guilt - and he isn't sure if it's guilt over making the deal in the first place or hiding it from Reynir or just for blurting it out now and worrying him. Swallowing hard, he takes a few shaky gulps for breath, his hand still closed into the back of Reynir's night shirt, and blinks out a few more tears that run hot down his cheeks.]

That happened. The first part, I mean. You must have known that if I had Tuuri's spirit with me, I had to have brought her back from Tuonela somehow...

[But then it occurs to him that Reynir had never said he'd met Onni in the Silent World, just that they'd followed him, and his gut clenches up for a moment.]

Ah, though if you hadn't caught up with me, you wouldn't have seen...

[Lifting his free hand, he scrubs his palm over his face, lips pursed and jaw a little clenched. His eyes are hot and feel like they've been rubbed raw with sandpaper, but more tears keep coming.]

Sorry. I had Tuuri's spirit with me, in the Silent World. I couldn't kill the kade alone, I needed her help. And so I went to Tuonela to get her.

[A shaky breath, and he opens his eyes again, looking at Reynir and trying to keep his expression neutral - it's a losing game, though, because his chin keeps dimpling with the effort of trying not to really cry, his eyes keep leaking tears, his brow is furrowed with distress.]

The Swan caught me and was about to punish me for disturbing Tuuri's sleep, but I explained the situation with the kade and that I was trying to bring her my grandmother's soul so she can rest. She allowed me to borrow Tuuri but said that I had...the summer. That when I come back to return Tuuri she'll have two souls one way or another. My grandmother's or mine.

[A little, hiccuping breath.]

If I were home now, the summer would be over. What if time doesn't stop when we come here?

[braidmage]

[ Reynir feels like the ground has dropped out from under him, like he is falling at a great speed. Was this how Lalli had felt, when he realized Onni had lied to him about going back to Saimaa? Of course, Onni isn't his family, maybe he doesn't have the right to compare the two...

But Onni is Onni. His Onni. And finding out all this had happened, that he'd had no idea this whole time, twists his guts with a feeling that is uncomfortably like betrayal. Onni hadn't thought he should mention any of this? That he had gone to the underworld, made a deal with a god, set a timer on his own life if he didn't succeed?

Swallowing, Reynir struggles to keep on breathing; now he is the one who is paralyzed by fear, unable to move, overwhelmed. It takes all the strength he has to just focus on what he knows, while his brain and his heart process this new, awful paradigm shift. ]

Time stops. I was here, and went back. It stops. I know. Other people have said the same.

[ There is a jerky, stilted sound to his words that Onni won't have heard before. Underneath the terror - both lingering from the nightmare and the much worse kind bubbling up now as the details of Onni's deal sink in - Reynir feels the beginnings of, unmistakably, anger. A kind of powerless, despairing anger that feels poisonous and toxic, slipping across the surface of all his other emotions like oil. He lets out a shaky breath, still holding Onni, trying to calm down, to not let his own emotions distract him from comforting the man he's in love with.

But it isn't working. He's not keeping hold of it, penning it in, the way he usually can. A little voice in the back of his mind asks why, if Onni knew he couldn't kill the kade alone, he hadn't brought any of them with him to help? Why risk something so monumentally stupid, why anger a god and upset the natural order of life and the afterlife? Reynir would've come with him. Would've helped him. Was it really preferable, landing himself in this impossible deal, to spending time with him?

Miserably, Reynir realizes he's being much too quiet, that he ought to be saying something, doing something. But when he opens his mouth to reassure Onni, all that comes out is a choked whisper: ]

You've... been hiding this from me.

[ Reynir thinks of that swan, its terrible face, the fear he had felt in the dream just being near it. And he feels a wave of hopelessness, that whenever they do get home, they won't catch up to Onni in time, won't defeat the kade in time, and Onni will die before the two of them ever really got a chance to really spend time together. Before Reynir could ever have the chance to tell him how he feels, to make him laugh, to make him happy. ]

[scowlish]

[When Reynir's stomach drops, Onni can feel it, can feel that shocked plummeting feeling, as if it's coursing into him through where he's touching the Icelander. He keeps looking at him, though, his eyes searching Reynir's face as what he's told him sinks in. He'd already felt guilty about hiding this thing from him, but when Reynir says in that awkward way that he knows for sure that time had stopped back home while he was here, that it was a sure thing, that other people had said the same, it only amplifies that feeling of guilt.

Shifting uncomfortably, Onni drops his gaze for a moment, feeling that shift in Reynir's emotions, the way he still feels terrified but washed over with a hint of anger that slowly coats the other things he's feeling. The anger is unexpected, Onni has never seen Reynir angry and it's strange to feel, especially when Reynir manages to keep his face so neutral. Onni can feel what he's feeling to some extent, but he can't tell what he's thinking and his expression isn't giving it away.

It's only when Reynir speaks again that he feels that sinking feeling amplify inside himself, and he swallows hard, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed as tears streak down his face again. That sensation of comfort is gone, now, all he feel is the anger and fear radiating from Reynir, and some kind of anxious desperation and hopelessness with a hint of that heartbreak he remembers from while they were texting. Taking a shaky, shuddering breath, he nods.]

I didn't want you to worry.

[braidmage]

[ He can tell Onni's felt the anger, and for the first time since it had happened, Reynir regrets that they are Bonded. It would be easier if they weren't, to tuck that away, pretend it wasn't there. He feels exposed, like a raw nerve - he can't even hide a little anger from Onni, and Onni was keeping an earth-shattering secret like this from him that whole time?

At the very least, Onni doesn't deny he'd been hiding it. That helps to slow the bubbling of anger, just a little. If he had pretended it merely hadn't come up, made some other excuse... ]

Why didn't you -

[ Reynir's voice cracks, the unmistakable sound of suppressed tears making the words strained and throaty. Normally he is much better at this, at keeping this sort of unpalatable display of sadness to himself, until he's alone. But he's disoriented from sleep and the nightmare, and all Onni's misery is pouring into him, amplifying his own. And Onni is sitting there, so close, his beloved face so pale and his eyes red from tears. And he looks so young right now, so helpless and scared. But he won't let Reynir help him. Can never seem to let anybody just help him.

So Reynir can't fight it off. Two hot tears skid down his freckled cheek, and he wipes them away immediately, angrily, with a swipe of his hand, like they are a nuisance. He carries on, deliberately, heartbreak thick in the words: ]

Why didn't you come find me? In the dreamspace. When you realized you weren't gonna be able to do it alone. You could've just come and found me, asked for my help, and you wouldn't've had to... you didn't have to...

[ Reynir knows it wasn't that simple, of course. Going to Tuonela to get Tuuri's spirit to help him is such a ludicrously dangerous and ill-advised plan, and Onni isn't an idiot. He must have known there were better strategical options. He was just grieving his sister, and treating his own safety like it meant nothing. Like he didn't matter.

Like he always does. ]

Onni, if I lose you-

[ Those words are all Reynir manages to choke out, before his face is crumpling, and he lets out a shaky sigh, covering his face in his hands. He doesn't have the words to say it, to explain the awful fear he feels, thinking about Onni under that water all by himself. Thinking about Onni facing that swan, bargaining his life.

So he lets the Bond work for him, for once. He just lets himself feel it, in all the raw horror of it, that empty aching void in his chest when he imagines losing Onni. Reynir leans into the feeling, doesn't hold back, lets Onni really get the brunt of it. ]

[scowlish]

[Onni expects it, the question Reynir tries to ask - why hadn't he just called Reynir for help when he'd known he couldn't do it alone. What he hadn't expected was for Reynir to be crying when he asked it, hadn't expected to be feeling the strange mix of emotions that they're both feeling, anger and fear and pain and heartbreak and grief all mixed together into something truly awful. Reynir wipes at the tears that spill down his cheeks like he's angry at them, angry to be showing how hurt he is by this and, strangely, that is the thing he understands the most about how Reynir is reacting.

Something in him relaxes just a little when he registers that, and his own tears spill down his face again. He's not sobbing, but the combination of emotions is so overwhelming he can't help releasing some of it in that way.]

I didn't want to come find you. That's why I left the way I did, I knew that if I told any of you, Lalli would know and he would follow me, and he would be killed. And even if I only asked you, you would follow me and you would be killed too. Tuuri...

[His voice cracks, and suddenly he does sob, his chest heaving and his throat closing up, and he brings up a hand to press it over his face for a moment, to pull himself together because he has to finish his explanation.]

Tuuri will just go back to Tuonela. She's already gone, but she can help. This way, the only person who can get killed is me. You see that?

[Dropping his hand, he takes a few rough breaths, and having said it makes him feel better, settles some of the turmoil of emotions in him. He doesn't want to die. He'll do everything he can not to die, but he would rather that happened than the alternatives if he'd called them to come with him.

But then Reynir is choking out half a sentence about losing him and he's overwhelmed with a rush of what Reynir is feeling, intense enough that it bowls over everything Onni is still feeling himself. Heartbreak and fear and horror and loneliness so intense it's almost like what he'd felt when Tuuri died, and Reynir is covering his face with his hands. After half a minute of it, Onni realizes he's not breathing, and when he exhales it comes out in a choked sob because that feeling, that grief and emptiness is so familiar, so raw and recent, and he doesn't even have Tuuri's spirit here with him to talk to, to fill the void.]

You care that much?

[It's barely above a whisper, and he shakes his head, lifts his hand to cover his face again, scrubbing at his eyes furiously, trying to fight his way through it. He's so tired of feeling afraid and sad and lonely but here is Reynir, feeling the same way now. Because of him. All he wants is to drown all of it out with that feeling of comfort he'd had earlier, just for a few moments, before Reynir found out the truth.

So, almost without thinking, he pulls Reynir against himself and wraps his arms around him the same way he'd pulled Tuuri against himself for comfort so many times before, the way he'd wanted to pull Lalli against himself. Pressing his face into Reynir's hair, he squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his back, carefully.]

Can't you understand why I did that? You have to understand...

[braidmage]

[ The awful thing is that Reynir does get it, really. He understands the line of thinking that led Onni to make the choice he did. He can see the reasoning behind it, how some parts made sense, how he couldn't have anticipated the swan's deal.

But all of it, all that logic and reasoning, is settled on a foundation that's rotten at the core. That Onni's life matters less. That Onni dying is a better alternative, to anything at all.

Reynir doesn't speak for a little while. He just clings to Onni, nodding against his shoulder when he asks if Reynir really cares that much. His head feels full and aching with the tears he is still trying to hold back. It would be easier, to just let Onni comfort him. To let all this go, because it's too late to change it. To pretend he is more okay with the situation than he really is.

But hadn't Onni said to him, again and again, that he didn't want any fake smiles? Didn't only want Reynir around when he was being convenient to like? Wanted the truth of him, even with the rough edges, and sadness, and anger? ]

I do understand.

[ His voice is hoarse, and small. There's no fire in it, no anger. All that had drained away, now, and left only a grimy, hollow, listless, bitter feeling. Reynir sighs, shuddery and uneven, and goes on, in halting words: ]

I understand that - you know that losing someone you care about is the worst thing. Worse than just danger. And you're not willing to risk that. After Tuuri.

[ He could just leave it there. There is still time, to leave the rest unsaid. But if he doesn't confront Onni with the harsh truth, who will? It will just fester between them, sour everything. Reynir has done that before. Kept his mouth shut, when he had something to say, until the unsaid things piled so high they cut him off from people, ruined relationships. He's not going to let that happen, here. Even if it means hurting Onni a little, in the short-term. ]

And you don't care as much, if you die. Because even then, you won't be going through the worst thing. I will. And Lalli will. But you won't have to see that.

[ Another wave of that awful fear, that yawning awful emptiness he feels when he thinks about Onni dying and leaving him alone, surges up inside Reynir. He doesn't fight it, just shuts his eyes, another pair of tears falling, onto Onni's shoulder. ]

You think you're keeping everyone safe. But you're not. You're being selfish.

[ He's silent for a few long moments after that, head throbbing and hurting quite badly, now. He can feel Onni's exhaustion, mingling with his own. But buried in all that misery, there is still a stubbornness in Reynir. A hard center of hope that he reaches for, clings to, even as he is hugging Onni to himself as tightly as he can. ]

But it doesn't matter. Because we'll catch up to you. And I'm going to help you take down the kade, and the deal will be completed. And- and even if not, I'll fight that swan myself if I have to. I'm not going to just let her take you.

[scowlish]

[There's some relief when Reynir says he understands, but it doesn't last long. The lack of anger doesn't feel any better because what's behind it is just as ugly and painful, empty and hollow and bitter. Holding Reynir in his arms like he is, it's impossible to ignore that emotional bleed-through, the emotion that accompanies that hoarse, tight voice. Squeezing his eyes shut, Onni keeps his face against Reynir's hair, trying to claw his way back to stability, trying to find some way to comfort himself so he can stop feeling this way, and so Reynir can stop feeling this way. The bleed-through is painful and overwhelming and his entire body feels like it's thrumming with all that held-back emotion.

But part of him does push back when Reynir says that his intention was to avoid losing someone else after losing Tuuri. It's true, but somehow it also doesn't feel right, because it doesn't seem that way in his mind, it isn't just some tactic to avoid pain - he doesn't want them hurt, he doesn't want Lalli to die, doesn't want Lalli or Reynir to not be in the world anymore. It isn't something he'd done just for himself but because the people he could have called on deserved better.

When Reynir calls him selfish, his breath gutters and he stops breathing, and for a moment he's very angry, feels the urge to push Reynir away from him and get out of this situation that suddenly feels nearly unbearable. But he doesn't move, he just forces himself to breathe through a throat and chest that feel closed off with tension.]

I'm not selfish.

[It comes out hoarse and the anger is audible in it. He takes another breath and he resists the temptation to pull away from Reynir so he can look at him, because this will be easier if he's not looking, and he doesn't want to let go.]

I don't want to go through losing anyone else, you're right. But it isn't just that, it's also that I can't...Lalli can't die. You can't die. It's not about how I feel, it's about...neither of you can be gone, it's wrong. Your lives only just started...

[The words come out wrong, he can't convey what he means properly, he's too overwhelmed and can't speak eloquently. And so he just speaks, bluntly.]

It's better if it's me.

[Swallowing hard, he feels that hope, the same way Reynir does, and when Reynir says they're going to catch up, that they're going to complete his mission and that even if they can't Reynir won't let him be taken by the Swan. At that, Onni makes a choked, bitter laugh.]

I don't want to die. I want to just do what I set out to do and come back. But if something goes wrong, it's better if it's me than someone else.

[braidmage]

No, it isn't.

[ The intensity of the fear and shock are subsiding in Reynir, leaving him feeling worn down and hollow, harrowed, like he'd just worked for 20 hours straight. He sniffs, breaths shaky with suppressed tears, and buries his face against Onni's shoulder.

He can feel Onni's anger, now, pushing back against him, over what he'd said. It's a struggle, not to apologize, not to take it back. But Reynir reaches for every bit of stubbornnness in him, and he doesn't take it back. Onni might not be able to hear the truth of it right now, but maybe the words will stay with him. Make him think twice (or, hell, even once) before he risks his life so cheaply again. ]

Don't you see? It's not better if it's you. Not objectively, and- and definitely not to me.

[ Reynir pulls away from Onni's tight hug, reaching up to touch his face. He tugs at the soft sleeve of his nightshirt, uses it to wipe the tears from Onni's cheeks. Reynir tucks Onni's hair away from his face, every touch achingly careful, putting all the love that he doesn't have the words for into those small movements. He brushes his fingertips over Onni's cheek, his own green eyes ringed with pink from his tears. Reynir is, infuriatingly, but perhaps unsurprisingly, someone who looks even more beautiful when he has cried. ]

You can't be gone, either, Onni. Your life... never even got a chance to start. You deserve a chance to start. To have a real, happy, full life.

[ Reynir straightens up, shoulders squaring. Now that he's been awake a little while, that he knows the truth behind it all, the terror that dream held for him is starting to fade. His audaciousness, his stubbornness, his optimism, are beginning to fight back. Jaw clenched, face almost ferocious, he grits out fervently: ]

I'm gonna make sure you do. I'm gonna save you. No matter what it takes. Because I-

[ A hesitation, just a fraction of a moment, before he finishes: ]

-care about you. So you haven't got any say in it.

[scowlish]

[As the intensity of Reynir's emotions starts to fall, Onni finds it easier and easier to get his own under control, and by the time Reynir tells him that it isn't better that it's him if someone dies, he at least has the ability to restrain himself.

And when Reynir tells him that it's not better if it's him, objectively or to Reynir himself, Onni feels most of his anger settle. When Reynir pulls back from him to look at his face, his expression is troubled, and he tolerates Reynir using his sleeve to wipe at his eyes until it gets to the point where he starts to like it. There's something soft and gentle about the way Reynir touches him, his face and then his hair as he pushes it back and out of his eyes. It's long and still has the texture of straw, and Onni isn't sure how Reynir manages to handle it gently. He can't remember the last time someone has handled him this way, gently, and he doesn't know what to make of it, even as he feels something inside himself become more malleable.

It's scary, that feeling of the walls around his emotions softening because if that breaks down, everything inside him will spill out and he won't be able to stop it. That danger becomes more real when Reynir tells him that he can't be gone and that his life hadn't had a chance to start, that he should have a real, happy, full life. Shaking his head almost immediately, Onni exhales a rush of breath.]

I don't think that will happen with my life. We already talked about that, how some parts of me are broken and there's no fixing that.

[And while he'd asserted before, that he didn't mean anything negative by saying he was broken, but now it becomes clear that the type of broken he is hurts him. But there's no getting around it, the trajectory of his life has changed what he's capable of, the type of life he can have going forward.]

There are things that won't happen for me. I accepted that a long time ago. Those things could still happen for you and for Lalli. And...

[But Reynir is carrying on, squaring his shoulders and saying that he's going to save him no matter what it takes because he cares about him. He can feel the stubborn core of Reynir, surprisingly strong and firm considering how soft and malleable he always seems. Especially considering how his eyes look so much more green with red around them and his face pale, his emotions written all over his face so clearly that Onni would be able to tell even if they weren't Bonded. What Reynir is saying is real, and there's no doubting that. Onni just doesn't understand completely.]

I don't understand.

[What else can he say?]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir feels as if there is a knot in his throat, and all the words he wants to say get bunched up behind it. That Onni is giving up on himself too easily. That he isn't broken beyond repair, that all Reynir wants to do is find all the cracks and wounds that life has left in Onni and pour love in them until he feels whole again. That he doesn't want things to happen for him if they're not happening with Onni.

But saying all that wouldn't do any good right now. Reynir might be naive, and he might be a romantic, but he knows better than to think he can heal Onni's trauma by simply loving him. If he told Onni all his feelings, they would be a distraction at best, and at worst... well, he doesn't want to think about that.

So he swallows it all down, expression soft as he runs the backs of his fingers down Onni's cheek. ]

I don't accept that. Any of it.

[ Awful as tonight has been, at least the bandaid has been ripped off. He has a better sense, now, of Onni's mental and emotional state, of just how suicidally reckless he'd really gotten. At least that means Reynir has a better chance of understanding him, of finding real and meaningful ways to help him.

When Onni says he doesn't understand, Reynir smiles, a wan, rueful thing. He murmurs: ]

You don't need to understand. It's still true.

[ And he moves, then, scooting his way up onto the bed and lowering himself down, pulling Onni along with him. There's a twist of guilt in his stomach, as he draws Onni back against his chest, and arm coming around Onni to anchor him, firmly settle him in as the little spoon. Even as he is tangling their legs together and pressing his nose against the top of Onni's spine, Reynir is making justifications in his own head. This is the best way he can think of, to comfort Onni. It's not about his feelings. It's about making Onni feel as safe as he can. ]

Onni... I know that people need secrets. Everybody does, it's only natural. But please, please... don't keep big, dangerous stuff from me. No matter how much you think I'm gonna worry. Otherwise, I'm just. Gonna worry a lot, all the time, even when there's nothing to worry about.

[scowlish]

[There's a little spike of frustration, of stubbornness, when Reynir first says that he doesn't accept it the way Onni does. It's Onni's life, after all, it's his to do what he wants with, he's the one who has to live it, to live with the consequences of his choices. What right does anyone else have to accept how his life is or to not accept it?

But that feeling passes quickly, because Reynir is still looking at him with that miserable but hopeful look on his face, his eyes red-rimmed and so green, his hair a wild mess of flyaways around his face. The feelings soften inside him, and he exhales shakily, eyes on Reynir's face, trying to sort out the messy tangle of thoughts and feelings in his brain and heart. Reynir tells him he doesn't have to understand for it to be true, and he nods because he knows that that's the case. Part of him needs to understand though, and that tension and anxiety twists in his gut.

Or at least it does until Reynir starts moving, tugging at him and guiding him to lie back down on his side, and he goes because it's easy to do and he doesn't have the energy to resist. Isn't sure whether he wants to resist. Lying down is easy, and Reynir arranges himself behind him, pressing his lanky body against his back and pulling at him, tugging his body back against himself, wrapping an arm around him and pressing it against the base of his sternum, and he can feel warm breath against the back of his neck.

There's something viscerally animal about the way that breath and the feeling of being held comforts him, and he can feel the tension bleeding out of his body, slowly but surely. There's still that shaky grief and fear inside him, but it's softened to a dull throb instead of something acute and overwhelming. So when Reynir tells him he understands that people need secrets, that it's natural, but asks him not to keep big dangerous secrets, because those will only worry Reynir more. Closing his eyes, Onni's brow furrows a little, and he nods.]

Okay.

[It comes out soft and a little shaky.]

I can't think of anything else, right now.

[braidmage]

[ Reynir can feel Onni relaxing, his breaths coming slower and deeper, his pulse lowering. He is glad that he had followed his instinct to comfort Onni this way. Reynir lets his eyes slide shut, just keeps on inhaling and exhaling, deep and rhythmic. He gathers together all the reassurance and hope and peace that he can, focusing on those feelings. He nurtures them, like a tiny flame he wants to coax into a campfire. Some of that will have to spill over into Onni, won't it?

And is there anything so wrong with that? If Onni is having trouble finding hope on his own, why can't Reynir share a little of his own? It's just a more direct way of comforting a friend.

He exhales a warm breath against the base of Onni's neck, making a soft sound of acknowledgment when Onni says he can't think about anything else. ]

Yeah. Don't blame you.

[ He can't help thinking how easily their bodies fit together, even with his ungainly height. It feels right, with his arm around Onni, hand pressed flat to his chest, holding him tight and secure.

Even if Onni hadn't said what he did, Reynir would already know a distraction isn't going to do much good tonight. But maybe there's another way, to draw Onni's thoughts out of the darkest corners. ]

Obviously, I'm not glad about - that deal, and you taking such a big risk, and all. But... I am glad you got to see her again.

[scowlish]

[Keeping his eyes closed, Onni focuses on breathing evenly, on not letting himself be swallowed up in all the mess inside him, everything that's tangled together in such an ugly way. When Reynir starts to focus on channeling some combination of emotions that's soothing and calming through their Bond, he tries his best to allow it into himself, to take it and allow himself to feel it, to let it affect him. Reynir's body is warm and his breath stirs the hair at the back of Onni's neck, he swallows hard and allows himself to relax into the bed a little more.

Reynir's hand is flat and pressed against his chest, firm and solid, almost constraining, and something about that makes him feel safe. Onni doesn't feel safe very often, it's a strange feeling, unfamiliar and good in a way that feels instinctive. When Reynir says he's not glad about the deal he's made but is glad that he gets to see her again, he feels a horrible gut-wrenching pull inside himself, and one of his breaths comes out as a sob, choking and with a guttural edge.]

I miss her.

[His voice is tight, tense, and difficult to get out, difficult to form into words.]

Even just before I came here, I had her with me, her spirit. I could talk to her. She scolded me and looked out for me.

[It's building back up again, that grief and emptiness and loneliness, but he doesn't want to cry anymore, his eyes and throat hurt, his gut hurts.]

[braidmage]

[ Reynir feels that grief, gut lurching as if he's missed a step and begun falling. It is a cold vortex, sucking him downwards. He doesn't fight against it, even when his own eyes well with sudden, hot with tears. He just breathes through it, and, when he's able, focuses on that peace once again. It's only a small bit of warmth, a bead of light in the darkness, but he doesn't let it go out. ]

I know it's not the same, but... I miss her, too.

[ He gives a tiny, hiccupy laugh when Onni says Tuuri had scolded him. There's nothing he can say, to make that grief any less. No words to change the reality of the situation. Even if Onni had gotten a little more time with Tuuri's spirit, he is still going to have to say goodbye. And she'll still be gone and the world a little less bright without her in it.

But Reynir knows he should say something. Even if the words can't hope to heal the wound of her death. ]

That sounds like her.

[ She had scolded Onni, too, then. Worried about him, done her best to keep him safe. So Reynir has to do his best to keep that up, in this place. He has to look out for Onni, not only because Onni deserves it, and not only because he's in love with him, but because it's what Tuuri would want. He's sure of it.

Reynir murmurs: ]

So she's... a little bird, now?

[ He'd only caught the briefest glimpse, in the dream, before everything had gone to hell. ]

[scowlish]

[It's strange, how something so small can be so bright. When he feels that grief surging up in him, he knows it's going through the Bond to Reynir, but he can also feel the way that Reynir keeps that little light of hope going, that peaceful feeling that slowly starts to drown out the worst of the grief until it's tolerable. Reynir says that he misses her too, and that he knows it isn't the same, but Onni shakes his head a little.]

You knew her for a long time. And...I imagine you got along well, didn't you? You seem like the sort of person she would have liked.

[Closing his eyes for a moment, he tries to hold onto that control granted him by Reynir's tiny candle flame of hope and peace, and the viscerally grounding sensation of being held close to another person's body. It takes him a few moments to get himself back to that emotional baseline that allows him to talk without his throat aching.]

Yes. Even before...before...she would scold me, but it's been more lately, since that deal. She's a little bird now, yes...tiny and fluffy, a little see-through. A spirit. But she speaks with her own voice, and...and I would know it anywhere.

[His throat is closing up a little again, his chest heaves a little as he fights another sob. The loneliness is almost tangible in him, like an infected sliver. He has Lalli, still, or at least he had before that lie, and he loves Lalli furiously, but he still feels like he's alone in this world. Without his immediate family, without that tie back to his parents and the home he'd lost, he feels unmoored.]

I can't be alone.

[It comes out as a choked whisper.]

[braidmage]

We did. She and Mikkel were the only ones who spoke any Icelandic, and he isn't a really big talker. And... we had a lot of time to kill together, 'cause they'd always leave us in the tank when it might be dangerous outside.

[ Reynir's breath hitches, half a laugh and half a sob, when Onni describes Tuuri's spirit. Fluffy. Yes, that sounds right. He can picture her, a small, round, transparent little thing, fluttering and fussing over her brother. It aches, imagining that, but the love is, for that moment, stronger than the grief.

It's good, this reminder, this confirmation that Tuuri isn't really gone. That troll that had burst through the floor and infected her hadn't destroyed her. She is just somewhere else, now. ]

Onni...

[ Reynir can feel that loneliness, pulling down on him, a leaden weight so intense it is nearly a physical thing. Is this what Onni feels, all the time? Reynir remembers him saying once that he didn't feel lonely, but what a lie that had been, whether Onni realized it or not. He tightens his arms around Onni, pulling him against his chest. Anchoring him, even as he says: ]

You aren't alone. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.

[ If Onni had been thinking Reynir was going back to his own bed any time tonight, he was sorely mistaken. Reynir has every intention of laying here and holding Onni for as long as Onni needs, whether or not either of them get any more sleep. ]

We're Bonded. That means... even when I'm on the other side of the city, you're not alone. And even after we go back through those mirrors, you aren't alone, either. Because we're connected. You've seen it, and felt it. So you won't be alone. I won't let you.