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( Hythlodaeus lets himself be maneuvered, loose-limbed and compliant, until he's facing Emet-Selch again, and his heart thuds harder in his chest when he leans in to close the distance between their lips. It's a soft kiss — it couldn't really be more than that, considering the circumstances — but Hythlodaeus can still feel the softness, the relief in having him tucked safely in his arms. )

It's helping.

( He nudges the tips of their noses together, his thumb stroking the side of Emet-Selch's palm as they keep their hands clasped between them. )

I didn't realise how cold I was, but now ... I'm warm again.

( A tired smile touches his mouth as he leans in to catch his lips in another tender kiss, lingering for a long, soft moment as the depths of his own feelings for Emet-Selch echo back through their connection. )

You'll stay with me a while?

As long as you require it.

[As long as he desires it, really-- the intent behind it filters through their connection, as he takes a moment to just take in Hyth's own feelings.

His arms wrap a little tighter around him, there, tail draping over him, with a flicker of something that feels almost like-- concern, or something similar. A little bit of uncertainty, maybe.]

( Hythlodaeus drifts in and out as Emet-Selch replenishes his manna, surrounded by his warmth, his scent, even the flick of his tail when something stirs his lupine senses. The plush fur covering his body means he's running warmer than usual — a small fact for which Hythlodaeus is extremely grateful as he remains tucked as close as he can.

It isn't until sometime later that he feels he has the strength to ask a more important question — a question that's been playing on his mind ever since he found Emet-Selch among the displaced of Noctium. )

There's hesitance in you yet, my friend. I can feel it through this bond of ours.

( He doesn't open his eyes. Instead, Hythlodaeus simply nuzzles a little closer to Emet-Selch's jaw and presses a kiss into the line of it. )

But it's not about this. Something else ... I wonder, is it what's beek keeping you at arm's length from me?

[This is precisely why he's avoided allowing this sort of bond with Hythlodaeus, despite their closeness. He knows exactly where the hesitance stems from-- he just hasn't wanted to open up the topic to Hythlodaeus, to prompt it from him.

At first, he doesn't answer. He takes a moment to shed his robes, trying not to pull too far away, allowing Hythlodaeus more direct warmth thanks to his fur.]

There has always been more distance between us than you realized, in the beginning. Thousands of years of it.

[It's more to do with their time spent apart than anything Hythlodaeus did in the past, or has ever done here.]

( Hythlodaeus's fingers sink into Emet-Selch's fur almost greedily, seeking warmth and the comfort only he can bring as they hold each other in the quiet. Hythlodaeus would appreciate him in any form he would take: be it this "Solus", wolf, snake, his transformed self in the days when Etheirys was at its height — and Emet-Selch knows this, he must know this.

Yet still, something is holding him back. Something that must fall beyond the physical — something harder for Hythlodaeus to hold close to his breast. )

That day on Elpis, dear Azem's famil— their shard, claimed that you would live a thousand thousand lifetimes. And their portrayal of you ... of the things you would do to try and make our Star whole again ...

( Hythlodaeus's fingers run through the thick fur, soothing and scratching almost idly. )

"Megalomaniacal madman" doesn't quite cover it, does it? That's how you described the person you would become — how you rejected it.

( A leg slips between Emet-Selch's to tangle them even closer. )

Is that it? The distance you speak of?

( And now it's Hythlodaeus's uncertainty that shines through — a stirring fear that Emet-Selch would rather keep him as a pillar of his past. )

Is there no place for me in your present?

You only ever knew me before then, Hythlodaeus. I know naught of what their shard told us I would do, but I know what I have done in pursuit of my duty.

[But he didn't realize it would cause this fear in Hythlodaeus, to make him think he's the one who might be out of place here-- he exhales another huff of breath, instinctively nosing into Hyth's neck once more. Reassuring, maybe for both of them.]

Are you certain you know whether you even desire a place in my present?

Yes.

( Is his simple answer, potentially troubling as it is. Hythlodaeus falls quiet for a moment as he tries to figure out the best way to put what he wants to say into words — words that won't spook Emet-Selch, or cause him to push away from him even more. )

I know ... pieces. Their shard had too much to tell, and too quickly, which made it a little difficut to follow — and there were more pressing matters at hand at the time.

( Hythlodaeus pulls back just enough to look Emet-Selch in the eye, his expression tired, to be sure, but his conviction firm in the depths of those violet eyes. He would never forsake him — that much, Hythlodaeus knows. Whether as Hades or as Emet-Selch, he's the most brilliant man he's ever known, and whatever path he forged for himself ...

Well. It's one they should have always walked together. )

But I know that whatever you did, you did it for us. For Etheirys.

( He presses his lips together momentarily. )

That isn't to excuse the suffering you have caused, Emet-Selch. Whatever you've done is your burden to bear, and only you can seek to make things right.

( A beat. )

But I would bear that burden with you, to help lighten that terrible load. I would share in your darkest moments to remind you of the light.

Edited 2022-10-26 00:45 (UTC)

I would do it again, you know.

[He says it quietly, meeting Hythlodaeus's gaze. He makes no comment on whether or not he wishes to make things right at all, on what it is he'll do about it now (whether there is anything a dead man can do about his actions during life)-- but it feels like something that ought to be said. Like something Hythlodaeus should know.]

If I were to have the power to return, knowing all that I know... I would do all of it again.

( Hythlodaeus lets himself sit with that for a long moment, his gaze setady beneath the weight pressing into him from behind Emet-Selch's golden eyes. Has he committed atrocities? Probably. Their shard alluded to as much, and Hythlodaeus remembers well the sick feeling that had settled into his stomach as he'd considered that future for his dear friend.

Atrocities, to heal their Star from the atrocity that was forced upon it. )

I know.

( Hythlodaeus reaches up, rests a palm against Emet-Selch's cheek, and strokes a thumb along the line of his cheekbone. A soft kiss follows — reassurance that he isn't going anywhere yet. )

You were ever true to your beliefs, my starlight. If you had not believed your decisions to be the best course of action in the first place, you would not have made them.

( A beat. )

... And I would have followed you, had I remained living and unsundered. You, Azem ... you have always been my purposes in life—

( And a tiny smile touches his lips at that, and he rests their foreheads together. )

Perhaps that's why the Gods shepherded me to Zodiark, hm? To help you now as I was then, not— changed, over millennia.

Edited 2022-10-31 00:08 (UTC)

Not changed, and not a shadow of your former self.

[He murmurs, head tilted into Hythlodaeus's hand as his ears slowly begin to relax.]

You would not have agreed with the things we did. Following me would have changed you, as certainly as Zodiark's influence would have-- they would have hurt you, and you would become a different person if you allowed them. If you were to stay with me despite them.

[Hythlodaeus, he's sure, would have hesitated at the extreme measures they took. He thinks perhaps he'd have found more in those shards that was recognizable as a former part of home, perhaps balked more at the enormity of their destruction.]

It was an unfair exchange, still. To lose you for those millenia-- I hesitate to agree that it was meant to be. But to have you returned, here and now...

[His hold on Hythlodaeus tightens slightly, and through their bond... well. It's impossible to miss the possessiveness accompanying it, the clear but unsaid feeling that Hyth is his.]

( And there it is.

Perhaps Emet-Selch doesn't even really realise he's given himself away — perhaps he's spent too long around people who couldn't possibly hope to understand him — but Hythlodaeus knows this man as well as he knows himself. Better, possibly, no matter the millennia that separate them. )

Is that what's been keeping you from me?

( Hythlodaeus holds him a little closer, letting himself guide their embrace for all his weakened state. Possessiveness melts through their bond to warm him low in the pit of his stomach, and he rubs his fingers against Emet-Selch's ears as he searches those golden eyes. )

You think yourself a shadow of who you once were?

No.

[Not quite. He is himself, for all that has happened-- he's clung to his sense of self even when he might be best served letting it go.

Even so-]

I am, and have always been, myself. Yet- I am aware that I have not remained unchanged. That I am not the man you once knew, not in full.

Well, then. You should count yourself fortunate that I want nothing more than to know the man you are now.

( He replies, as his expression lifts into another of his smiles - albeit tired around the edges. One hand reaches up to brush a few locks of short brown hair back away from Emet-Selch’s face: )

Will you let me?

( He won’t remember that day on Elpis where he’d come up with a plan to encourage Emet-Selch to led Hermes a hand, but that doesn’t mean the same tactics won’t work again.

Hythlodaeus’s lashes lower, and his voice softens as he implores his dearest friend: )

Please, Emet-Selch.

[-ugh. He still knows him all too well-- knows there's no way he can turn down such an earnest request from Hythlodaeus, just as he knows this is Hythlodaeus's way of saying he's not going to back down on the matter.

There's a relief in it, a brief wash of it through their bond, even as he grumbles:]

Oh, must you?

[But his ears only lie flat for a moment, giving away the feigned irritation.]

-fine. I suppose if you are certain you're willing, there's little I can do to dissuade you.

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