destro & enrion

[onefellswoop]

-you're my home, too: introduction to coldharbour. (rook needs to edit and repost this holy shit)
-betrayal: silvanus imposes a visit. destro fucks up real fucking bad. enrion tells daddy to stay.

-dungeon doings.

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[onefellswoop]

Enrion: Your brother. (He echoes the word solemnly, softly, as though this means something. (It doesn't.) (It does.) (It will.) He thinks about saying, almost does say, I had a brother --)
Enrion: (but he doesn't let the words rise past his tongue. (Destro doesn't. Shouldn't. Get to know about Eras.) (Destro is wearing Eras's ring.) (Enrion thinks, deep and sudden and painfully --))
Enrion: ((He gave Eras's ring to Destro.) (How's he going to get it back.)
Enrion: ((He doesn't want it back.) (He wants -) (Oh, he wants.) (Why the fuck did he come home.) (Why did he have to hear that. He could have pretended, his whole life. He's so good at pretending.))
Enrion: (He lowers his head to his arms and stares at the stones through the gap between his legs until they blur, and the howl building in him (a different howl, not the settling of love but the unsettling of it) claws into his throat. --)
Enrion: (He thinks he's going to scream, or wail, the older remnant of the sound he made that echoed through an Alinor townhome years ago. But the only sound is a hitched breath, like a sob.)

Destro: (it could have taken on so many registers. that... upheaval. that breath turned unsteady, brush of a sound, of lungs wrung hopeless. destro comprehends the meaning of that sound, or. some meaning in it. saw in the boy a coiling of could-be-reactions, all of them turmoiled, some of them raging, could-be-wild, and--)
Destro: (and what came of them was this choked sound, only. a strangled sound that strikes destro as ageless, as inextricable from this moment - from what, from what, from what destro said (did) (lied about) ((what does the boy believe to be lies, and what true?)) and informed by histories destro can't begin to guess at. (because the boy never told.) (because destro never had a chance to hear.) (and now.) ((and now. he never will.)))
Destro: (the boy said. he would follow destro to the end. and the boy had flourished when destro said the same. spoke and MEANT the same. now, though. the sense of that's gone severed. (by his own hand.) (as easy as slicing a tendon, only. he hadn't intended this.) (as devastating as slicing a tendon.) ((the boy's hands capable in their work; the muscle cut and presented. the boy smiling, bounding off into the fray.)) ((that was the last of it. there's nothing more to follow. destro doesn't care to dwell on endings, but can't he hear the ringing of the end? the boy won't look at him right. the boy isn't here with him right, and he knows well enough why.))
Destro: (he doesn't know why he's speaking. hears the words and thinks, oh, no, that... isn't right. an error, again. -)
Destro: he doesn't know anything.
Destro: (what he means is. is. that silvanus is a fool, a gossip, a liar in his own right.)
Destro: (that silvanus doesn't DESERVE to know anything, that information in his hands becomes a tool for meddling, for flaunting, for prying in places he doesn't belong.)
Destro: (now, in the aftermath of his speaking, destro realizes his meaning maybe didn't channel through. that maybe, maybe, he said precisely the wrong thing. again.)
Destro: (and he doesn't know what to do with that. and he hopes against hope the boy won't take the words awry, that he'll hear destro's meaning (but it was so damnably unclear) (but the boy needs and deserves clarity) (But everything destro says and does only muddies the entire situation.))
Destro: i didn't--
Destro: ('mean that.')
Destro: (more words lost to falling silence.)

Enrion: (There's something as bad here as Destro's words to his brother. (Lies to someone, his brother or his puppy, both unconscionable). Destro says his brother doesn't know anything, and Enrion feels a twinge of something shameful that shudders his frame, shakes his shoulders. Drives another soft, pained sound from him.)
Enrion: (Destro's ashamed.)
Enrion: (He doesn't want his family to know. He doesn't want anyone to know. About.)
Enrion: (Him.)
Enrion: (He turns his head in his arms, and thinks, I need to get my frog.)
Enrion: (It's not the most important thing. It's not the only thing. It's not the problem, or the thing driving lightning-sharp pain through his heart.)
Enrion: ((But he can't leave his frog.))
Enrion: (It's the only thought he can hold on to right now. Everything else feels too big, too burdensome, too. Decimated.)
Enrion: (Too lost.)
Enrion: (He raises his head and wipes his face with his hands, then stares blankly ahead for a moment. (And Destro is right there (on his knees) (equitable) (it was never equitable, because Enrion is an idiot, a gullible child))
Enrion: ((But he's so near. He so near, and Enrion could stretch out a hand and Destro could reach back and their fingertips would brush.) (His heart clamps painfully and his face contorts in a flash of pain.) (He closes his eyes and leans back, and lets his head fall back against the wall, a solid presence (he could just stop here and everything would maybe work out, or he'd stop breathing and that would work out, too.) Swallows. And then exhales. And gets up off the floor.)
Enrion: (He pauses beside Destro, and waits, looking at the other man out of the corner of his eye.)

Destro: (that flaring pain. (how it shoots through him when it crosses enrion's face. how it settles itself into destro, muffled by practiced not-quite-calm, by necessity that learned to muffle everything when everything becomes too much to manage. when he needs to push through, and can't risk a total drowning.)
Destro: ((he IS drowning, anyway. feels his lungs choked with something not-quite-air. feels his head swimming, vision dazed with colorless blotches. (he should have. died years ago. never let himself enter that hideaway. should never have... so many things.) ((and above all else. he should never have said. ...he. can't. think about that now. lest the drowning wholly take him.)))
Destro: (so he scarcely thinks. feels shattered through again, again, but keeps the world in relative focus, and. when the boy stands (a brief leap of could-be-joy; is enrion coming to him?) (a wilder, louder quiet-shrieking fear: the boy is leaving) (a hopefulness, almost: the boy is going to have it out with him, TELL him he's wronged enrion - which is true - tell destro he deserves better, which is also true, enrion deserves better thana to witnessa self-serving set of lies (necessary (NOT. necessary) set of lies). the boy could do it; he's claimed his place before. (but before, the atmosphere never sparked hollow like this. vaster than coldharbour's sky, and infinitely more hollow.))
Destro: (enrion stands, and even before he pauses, destro's moving his hand, a rusted-feeling motion, his muscles not in his control. and as the boy pauses, destro sets a hand against his hip, unable to look up (Afraid, perhaps, of what he'd see) (unwilling, perhaps, to see the damage he's wrought) (knowing, as well, he has no right to look.) and he'll keep his hand lingered there for a moment, a lasting length of moments, if he can. looking ahead without seeing anything, now that enrion's moved from his vision. and trying to speak. swallowing. trying to shift his fingers enough to caress the boy even once, but that much is beyond him; he can only, barely linger.)
Destro: enri.
Destro: ('please,' he thinks, but again his voice, his lack of speech betrays him.)
Destro: (or. more to the point. he fails to speak in full, and so betrays his puppy.)

Enrion: (He doesn't shake off the hand at his hip. This strange, unnatural way of being, of- Destro, at his feet. (As though he's pleading. Or. Apologizing.) (But not.) (He hasn't said those words at all.))
Enrion: (Enrion swallows again and thinks, Better say everything now. And he takes a sharp breath (oh, no one's going to call him Enri anymore) (he won't let anyone else ever again). His hand is shaking, but he does manage to shift it, to draw the backs of his fingers along Destro's cheek. A trace of them through his hair, drawing it aside from his face tenderly. Tenderly. And he turns his palm up, his fingertips under Destro's chin, coaxing his face up (hey, look at me, he said once) (this is the third time he's touched this man this way, turning his focus) (he deserves his focus, in this confusion, this ruin.)
Enrion: (Doesn't think of what he'll say. Only looks down and meets Destro's eyes, holds them if he can. Thinks, no matter how far he goes or how long he lives, he'll always, always belong to this man. (This liar.) (Broken. Terribly broken.) (God.))
Enrion: (His words are preceded by a sharp intake of breath, and the fallen streaks of tears.)
Enrion I love you.
Enrion: (Under those words, /Even if you don't love me./ His expression contorts again, and he can't wrest it under control, can't hide the agony --)
Enrion: (His next words come shattered, weak, words on the bitter edge of lost composure.)
Enrion: Don't follow me.
Enrion: (And, helplessly, unhappily:) Stay.
Enrion: (And.)
Enrion: Daddy - stay.

Destro: (for a moment he thought, 'mercy,' and the room turned brushed with breeze, a clarion fresh freeing. enrion's hand found him, and he thought maybe, maybe, all will be well, and the boy is wounded but the boy is offering a chance, and destro will take it, will... find the work, work his way to cohesion and to proving how much, just how much the boy
Destro: means. to him; as a vital piece of the world. central to destro's world. (has he been forgiven? the fingers at his cheek say maybe. and for a moment, he begins to shift his head into that touch, allows himself the beginning of unthawing.)
Destro: (only.)
Destro: (...only.)
Destro: (it's worse, after. like burning anew, like plummeting through the earth itself. the adoration in those eyes and the knowingness of ruin. the presence of (Reverence) (love) (oh, the boy said, the boy sayS love, and at once the boy's expression, eyes, his presence all speak--
Destro: loss. unshakable, speechless loss.)
Destro: (which is only the beginning of the blow.)
Destro: (which is only the first drop, and the next strikes harder, could burn the world to ash, does, maybe, singe the center of destro's mind. sets his heart to combustion, to flaming, to nothing. (he wasn't so far off, perhaps, telling silvanus he has not heart to speak of. what he said was prophetic.) (don't be. fucking ridiculous. what he said was the cause of this ruin.))
Destro: (those words don't give grounds for compromise. for argument.)
Destro: (orders given. orders familiar, reflected resonant of his own, he... understands. that this is no game, no space for negotiation. i'd follow you, he'd said. i'd pursue you, watching, unable to keep from following you. he'd said.)
Destro: (but this. this isn't his decision now. enrion... says. orders in their... ... it doesn't. matter. why he knows the meaning. how earnest the boy is in speaking, and he'd said...)
Destro: (that last word. (that last time, that last calling.) he'll never hear that word again. from enrion. (From anyone.) how could he tolerate it, after this? its resonance becoming loss. its speaking disappointment (that betrayal, again), farewell. commanding absence.)
Destro: (stay away.)
Destro: (enrion says. (his puppy.) (his enri.) (says.) stay. (a farewell to destro.) (an end to daddy.) (an end to all of this.))
Destro: (he doesn't speak. he can't speak; can't tell now if enrion is here or elsewhere. if everything's already gone. he doesn't comprehend the way he's sunk a little further, elbow on his knee. doesn't know the way he'll draw his hand against his chest when enrion does move, or the way he'll stare unseeing a the floor as minutes, hours shift by. doesn't know how he'll watch over nothing until night wears into morning.)
Destro: (what he does know is that after - after staring, after night's end, after everything - there will be no enrion.)
Destro: (not here or elsewhere. and never, not ever again.)
Destro: (he doesn't say goodbye. he can't say goodbye, or make a sound. and the night. and the night will wear on.)

Enrion: (One last drift of fingers, loving, faint - and then gone.)