[He could talk about the game. He could talk about how the actions involved in bringing about a conclusion would shape the world that they create. But in the moment, regardless of the weight of the bigger picture...it felt somehow shallow. Because the way that Luke was feeling, it didn't have to do with Gods or Worlds or Responsibilities. It was about hurt, betrayal, loss.
So he stops thinking about all of that. He just looks at Luke.]
[It's such an abrupt, painful change of topics that it sidelines him, even in his aggressive dispassion, picking at an old scar—as if he hadn't done so, moments before.]
No.
[Yes. Or at least, he had an idea of it. Because Ion was... Ion was...
...]
Does it matter?
[He hates himself, regrets it as soon as he's said it, throwing it like a rock at the person he cares about most, away, away from his own glass heart. But so what? So what? What did matter?]
[Although his brows knit in pain at the question, Ion powers through. This is important.]
...I was scared. When I read that final score, I tried to find any justification to ease it. That I'd done what I could for Tear, that I could be replaced...but there you were, telling me I was wrong, and I...
[There's a knot in his throat. He gulps.]
I thought about all the things I'd never known, would never know. I'd only just learned how it felt to experience a loss that cut you so deeply all you could do was cry. How many other things had I missed, would always miss? It wasn't until just then, looking at you, that it hit me how badly I wanted all of it. I wanted the good and the bad as long as it was all life, all with you.
[Ion looks at his hands, fingers trembling as they come together and squeeze fiercely.]
And then, after that, after there wasn't anything left to grasp on to, as I turned to fonons, dispersed into nothing, I thought of all the good you would do for Auldrant, for everyone.
[His hands come to rest over his heart as he bows his head.]
I was so...hopeful. You changed my life, Luke. I didn't know how to live until the day that I met you. You were going to change everything. I believed in that, in you, so deeply...that I woke up here.
[To say it's not what he expects would be a gross understatement. If he'd felt disoriented at the track switch on their train of thought, this threw the whole thing into a black hole, swallowing up any residual anger in the vacuum.
What had he thought he'd known?
Ion had always been so casual with his compliments, passing them to Luke in a way that no one ever had before. It was what had charmed him from the start. He spoke easily and freely with his feelings, showering him in merits for actions no one else had every noticed—or had actively criticized. To Ion, all his negative traits seemed to flip on their head. He wasn't rash, he was brave. Not cowardly, but kind-hearted. Ion seemed to see a version of Luke that he himself couldn't—but every time he heard about it, wanted to try for it a little harder. Hell, maybe it'd make him smile even if he screwed it up.
What was he doing?
Watching Ion clasp his hands together, shaking, Luke inhales, head spinning. Well, Ion wasn't smiling now. He was here, bearing the brunt of his directionless fury as a part of the god's competition. Hurt and betrayed, he'd lashed out furiously at Ion as representative of everything was frustrated with, hating. Guy, the weekly trials and murders, the setup, the follow-through, everything, everything...
...Because he knew Ion would take it.
The realization hits like an iron bar, and he sways, grief and shame filling the empty space left by evaporated rage. He wilts, shoulders and head falling, eyes closing. If anyone had the right to feel betrayed, it was Ion. His promises to Piety, to Ion, the trust, the memories... so much paper, shredded and burned, as he'd spit in the face of him even deigning to visit him.
And here was Ion, standing bravely in front of him nonetheless, baring his soul, his most intimate feelings and truths in reply.
For a long, long moment after Ion finishes, he's silent. It was suddenly hard to find the courage to reply, when he barely felt he had the right to share the same room, hear his praise. Hear...
He swallows drily, pushing himself shakily out of the chair.]
...Piety...
[He hadn't even known what it meant, before arriving here. But it felt right, when he chose it from the three that were offered before him. Beauty, no. That was past. Fortune, no. He could make his own. But the third option...
When they'd first met, Ion, still hidden behind his mask, had laughed, surprised that he'd picked without knowing, and explained it. What it technically meant. What it could mean.
[It's all he can do not to rush immediately forward and try and brace Luke, to lend him whatever strength he has, though there's hardly much of it even now, as a god. He waits, lets Luke work through the things he's working through, watches the different emotions pass across his face.]
...you wanted to know what brought you here.
[Finally, he steps forward...and places one of his hands gently on Luke's own heart. Through his fingertips, their hearts connected.]
["Divine Intervention", Ion had called it, in their first meeting. Divine intervention.
It's altogether too much.
Stepping forward, he pushes into Ion's hand—and wraps his arms around his friend, his whole body shaking like a leaf.
What was he doing? He didn't even have the right to touch Ion, not anymore. Not after how he'd acted. He should be on his knees, apologizing, begging for his forgiveness—and maybe, in a minute, he would. But for now...
...For right now...
Regret washing off him in waves, he holds on to Ion for dear life.]
[Ion wants to apologize. No matter what the truth is, there's still so much guilt wracking every fiber of his being, screaming at him that he's put his friends in pain. His fault, his fault, his fault.
Nothing comes out.
Instead, all at once, it feels like the strength to keep himself steady, to carry the weight of all that emotion, leaves him, and as Luke holds tightly onto him he melts back into the embrace, all but falling into him, hands clutching at his shirt.]
[He can feel Ion start to crumble, and panics. Holding him tighter, dropping to one knee as Ion's own knees fold, clutching him to his chest.]
Ion! Hey!
[He moves one hand down, one hand up, cradling the small of his back, the back of his head, and sits down on the floor heavily, Ion still tucked safely into his embrace.]
When he swallows to find his voice again, his throat is dry, mouth abruptly full of sandpaper. This was his fault—all of it. When he goes to speak, his tone is low, rasping over his remorse.]
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ion. I just... [Had he ever backslid that hard before? Someone had always been there to shake him out of it—so maybe he’d never had the chance, held in place by the supports all around him.]
...I don’t have any excuse at all. I-I was angry, but I didn’t have any right to... not at you …I was just... I-I’m...!
[He drops his voice to nearly a whisper, voice trailing off, the keen regret of a child bubbling out in each shameful word.]
[He wipes at his eyes, trying hard to compose himself, before finally looking up at his face. He brings his hands up to cup Luke's face.]
I understand, I do. You deserve all of that anger...every piece of it, and I wish with all my heart that I wasn't in any way involved. But, I am, even if I never meant to be. I just want you to know that I'm always, always on your side.
I know. I know you're always there for me, and I... I knew, but I still went and... I don't have any right to...!
[Every part of this hurt. As if language wasn't enough anymore. Like there wasn't enough, the right words, to express just how much he did have to apologize, and how he was in the wrong here, and how Ion had to know, had to know how much he...
How much he...?
Still fumbling for the right things to say, he pulls Ion closer, simultaneously apologetic and protective, his motives clashing mentally, the cross purposes maelstroming.]
Ion... I wish we weren't here. I wish we were anywhere else but this place! I just want to spend time with you, like we did at the beach, and when we had dinner! I don't want this to come between us... we don't... we don't...
[his voice chokes, breaks. He tries, fails, to pull his blotching face out of Ion's hands, embarrassed by his own awkward emotions, wishing Ion couldn't see him like this, over, and over...]
[His voice is soft and broken, but he tries to keep it in one piece, the calm foil to Luke's raw emotion. He holds firm, pulling Luke back whenever he escapes, his thumbs brushing away his tears, his eyes searching and desperate and more afraid than he wants to admit.]
I keep thinking of all the things I want to do with you...I can't help it. There's a weight in my heart that feels heavier every moment. I've thought endlessly of seeing you again without considering it would be a fleeting sight. It feels like even when you're right here, I'm already missing you all over again.
[There's a sound, somewhere between a sob and a sigh, and Luke's head drops, forehead gently bumping against Ion's, unable to escape his soft, insistent pull, letting Ion's words wash over him like waves on the shore, a cool, calm salve against a blistering wound.
Words seemed to hold less mystery to Ion. He shaped them to his purpose, and everything he says resounds easily with Luke, so much so that it's nearly a relief to hear.]
That's it... that's how I feel, every time I see you. I'm so happy, but I feel like... I'm just counting down the days, and every time I see you again, that feeling's there, but even stronger. And it hurts! It hurts so much, Ion, because I...
...I don't want to lose you twice!
And I know it's selfish and stupid! You're a god now, and I should just be happy that you have such a great life ahead of you, even with all this stupid stuff, because you really deserve it, but...!
[His voice drops to barely a whisper, the closeness between them only just enough to hear.]
I want to show you everything you missed. How the world's changing. How I'm changing.
I want to sit around with you and not think about anything, because I know you're okay.
...And I want to go back to Cheagle Woods with you, even if it's just for a day.
I want to have more time... so I can make more time for you.
[This time, it sounds more like a sigh, a puff of air on the exhale, soft, relieved, and ragged.]
...I spent most of my life being selfish, so I... guess I want to avoid it... but...
Maybe if we both want it, then maybe we can want it for each other. Like a selfish wish for... someone else's happiness, and they cancel each other out.
[Gently, slowly, he lifts his head from Ion's, expression nearly something you could call calm. In the dim light of the dining area, you could almost call it resolved.]
Or maybe we can both just be selfish together.
...And I think you more than deserve a little selfishness, Ion.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[He stares, pinning Ion to the spot with his gaze.]
How does it matter?
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[He could talk about the game. He could talk about how the actions involved in bringing about a conclusion would shape the world that they create. But in the moment, regardless of the weight of the bigger picture...it felt somehow shallow. Because the way that Luke was feeling, it didn't have to do with Gods or Worlds or Responsibilities. It was about hurt, betrayal, loss.
So he stops thinking about all of that. He just looks at Luke.]
When I died...do you know what I was feeling?
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No.
[Yes. Or at least, he had an idea of it. Because Ion was... Ion was...
...]
Does it matter?
[He hates himself, regrets it as soon as he's said it, throwing it like a rock at the person he cares about most, away, away from his own glass heart. But so what? So what? What did matter?]
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...I was scared. When I read that final score, I tried to find any justification to ease it. That I'd done what I could for Tear, that I could be replaced...but there you were, telling me I was wrong, and I...
[There's a knot in his throat. He gulps.]
I thought about all the things I'd never known, would never know. I'd only just learned how it felt to experience a loss that cut you so deeply all you could do was cry. How many other things had I missed, would always miss? It wasn't until just then, looking at you, that it hit me how badly I wanted all of it. I wanted the good and the bad as long as it was all life, all with you.
[Ion looks at his hands, fingers trembling as they come together and squeeze fiercely.]
And then, after that, after there wasn't anything left to grasp on to, as I turned to fonons, dispersed into nothing, I thought of all the good you would do for Auldrant, for everyone.
[His hands come to rest over his heart as he bows his head.]
I was so...hopeful. You changed my life, Luke. I didn't know how to live until the day that I met you. You were going to change everything. I believed in that, in you, so deeply...that I woke up here.
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What had he thought he'd known?
Ion had always been so casual with his compliments, passing them to Luke in a way that no one ever had before. It was what had charmed him from the start. He spoke easily and freely with his feelings, showering him in merits for actions no one else had every noticed—or had actively criticized. To Ion, all his negative traits seemed to flip on their head. He wasn't rash, he was brave. Not cowardly, but kind-hearted. Ion seemed to see a version of Luke that he himself couldn't—but every time he heard about it, wanted to try for it a little harder. Hell, maybe it'd make him smile even if he screwed it up.
What was he doing?
Watching Ion clasp his hands together, shaking, Luke inhales, head spinning. Well, Ion wasn't smiling now. He was here, bearing the brunt of his directionless fury as a part of the god's competition. Hurt and betrayed, he'd lashed out furiously at Ion as representative of everything was frustrated with, hating. Guy, the weekly trials and murders, the setup, the follow-through, everything, everything...
...Because he knew Ion would take it.
The realization hits like an iron bar, and he sways, grief and shame filling the empty space left by evaporated rage. He wilts, shoulders and head falling, eyes closing. If anyone had the right to feel betrayed, it was Ion. His promises to Piety, to Ion, the trust, the memories... so much paper, shredded and burned, as he'd spit in the face of him even deigning to visit him.
And here was Ion, standing bravely in front of him nonetheless, baring his soul, his most intimate feelings and truths in reply.
For a long, long moment after Ion finishes, he's silent. It was suddenly hard to find the courage to reply, when he barely felt he had the right to share the same room, hear his praise. Hear...
He swallows drily, pushing himself shakily out of the chair.]
...Piety...
[He hadn't even known what it meant, before arriving here. But it felt right, when he chose it from the three that were offered before him. Beauty, no. That was past. Fortune, no. He could make his own. But the third option...
When they'd first met, Ion, still hidden behind his mask, had laughed, surprised that he'd picked without knowing, and explained it. What it technically meant. What it could mean.
And what he took it to mean.]
To...
...me?
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...you wanted to know what brought you here.
[Finally, he steps forward...and places one of his hands gently on Luke's own heart. Through his fingertips, their hearts connected.]
It was this.
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It's altogether too much.
Stepping forward, he pushes into Ion's hand—and wraps his arms around his friend, his whole body shaking like a leaf.
What was he doing? He didn't even have the right to touch Ion, not anymore. Not after how he'd acted. He should be on his knees, apologizing, begging for his forgiveness—and maybe, in a minute, he would. But for now...
...For right now...
Regret washing off him in waves, he holds on to Ion for dear life.]
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Nothing comes out.
Instead, all at once, it feels like the strength to keep himself steady, to carry the weight of all that emotion, leaves him, and as Luke holds tightly onto him he melts back into the embrace, all but falling into him, hands clutching at his shirt.]
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[He can feel Ion start to crumble, and panics. Holding him tighter, dropping to one knee as Ion's own knees fold, clutching him to his chest.]
Ion! Hey!
[He moves one hand down, one hand up, cradling the small of his back, the back of his head, and sits down on the floor heavily, Ion still tucked safely into his embrace.]
Are you okay?
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[He takes a deep breath, his brow furrowing as he lets Luke support him.]
I was just so afraid I'd lost you.
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When he swallows to find his voice again, his throat is dry, mouth abruptly full of sandpaper. This was his fault—all of it. When he goes to speak, his tone is low, rasping over his remorse.]
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ion. I just... [Had he ever backslid that hard before? Someone had always been there to shake him out of it—so maybe he’d never had the chance, held in place by the supports all around him.]
...I don’t have any excuse at all. I-I was angry, but I didn’t have any right to... not at you …I was just... I-I’m...!
[He drops his voice to nearly a whisper, voice trailing off, the keen regret of a child bubbling out in each shameful word.]
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[He wipes at his eyes, trying hard to compose himself, before finally looking up at his face. He brings his hands up to cup Luke's face.]
I understand, I do. You deserve all of that anger...every piece of it, and I wish with all my heart that I wasn't in any way involved. But, I am, even if I never meant to be. I just want you to know that I'm always, always on your side.
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[Every part of this hurt. As if language wasn't enough anymore. Like there wasn't enough, the right words, to express just how much he did have to apologize, and how he was in the wrong here, and how Ion had to know, had to know how much he...
How much he...?
Still fumbling for the right things to say, he pulls Ion closer, simultaneously apologetic and protective, his motives clashing mentally, the cross purposes maelstroming.]
Ion... I wish we weren't here. I wish we were anywhere else but this place! I just want to spend time with you, like we did at the beach, and when we had dinner! I don't want this to come between us... we don't... we don't...
[his voice chokes, breaks. He tries, fails, to pull his blotching face out of Ion's hands, embarrassed by his own awkward emotions, wishing Ion couldn't see him like this, over, and over...]
...We don't enough time!
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[His voice is soft and broken, but he tries to keep it in one piece, the calm foil to Luke's raw emotion. He holds firm, pulling Luke back whenever he escapes, his thumbs brushing away his tears, his eyes searching and desperate and more afraid than he wants to admit.]
I keep thinking of all the things I want to do with you...I can't help it. There's a weight in my heart that feels heavier every moment. I've thought endlessly of seeing you again without considering it would be a fleeting sight. It feels like even when you're right here, I'm already missing you all over again.
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Words seemed to hold less mystery to Ion. He shaped them to his purpose, and everything he says resounds easily with Luke, so much so that it's nearly a relief to hear.]
That's it... that's how I feel, every time I see you. I'm so happy, but I feel like... I'm just counting down the days, and every time I see you again, that feeling's there, but even stronger. And it hurts! It hurts so much, Ion, because I...
...I don't want to lose you twice!
And I know it's selfish and stupid! You're a god now, and I should just be happy that you have such a great life ahead of you, even with all this stupid stuff, because you really deserve it, but...!
[His voice drops to barely a whisper, the closeness between them only just enough to hear.]
I want to show you everything you missed. How the world's changing. How I'm changing.
I want to sit around with you and not think about anything, because I know you're okay.
...And I want to go back to Cheagle Woods with you, even if it's just for a day.
I want to have more time... so I can make more time for you.
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[All of those things and so much more, even though "more" is something he's never dared to ask for--even think for.]
So, if you're selfish, so am I. Maybe...just for now...
[Unintentionally, Ion's forehead knits against Luke's.]
Isn't it okay to be a little selfish?
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...I spent most of my life being selfish, so I... guess I want to avoid it... but...
Maybe if we both want it, then maybe we can want it for each other. Like a selfish wish for... someone else's happiness, and they cancel each other out.
[Gently, slowly, he lifts his head from Ion's, expression nearly something you could call calm. In the dim light of the dining area, you could almost call it resolved.]
Or maybe we can both just be selfish together.
...And I think you more than deserve a little selfishness, Ion.