At first, the Fool says nothing in response to those words, though the pained wince at the corners of his eyes is more than enough evidence to prove that they've reached him. Then he shakes his head slowly and, summoning his own courage, closes the remaining distance between them, reaching out his gloved hand to touch the edge of Devin's jaw; a silent request not to look away, please, not now--
When their eyes meet again, the Fool's are wet with a sheen of unshed tears. Whatever he has to say, it takes him yet another moment to master himself, and he can't completely check the almost melodic waver in his voice when he admits, "Since I arrived in Aifaran, you have been my most constant, my most unwavering, my most diligent and," this next said with a trace of a smile, "my most infuriatingly stubborn, dear friend." His eyes soften and drop to where his fingers touch Devin's jaw, lingering there; he takes a breath before he goes on. "Truthfully, after Fitz, that is not something I believed I would ever experience again. Not after what I demanded he endure for my calling."
The scale isn't the same; the blood on the Fool's hands belongs only to him, and to Fitz, but it is there, and the guilt that comes with it is as multifaceted and layered as the inexplicable grief he felt upon being brought back from the dead on the Glacier Plains. It takes up such impressive real estate in his heart that to find that he still has the capacity for longing, for desire, for something more, is an astounding relief.
He makes a soft sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "So you see," he begins again, "you can't mislead me, Devin. You have already given me an irreplaceable gift, and I will always cherish it."
For a moment he hesitates, then gives in to a small, selfish impulse. He leans in to press a gentle kiss to Devin's cheek, just softly, just once; his hand falls to settle just above Devin's heart. When he draws back, there's a bittersweet twist to the corners of his mouth, and though the words he speaks belong to another time, another place, it seems only natural to say them again now. "I set no limits on what I feel for you--and my heart is not a weathervane. I'm not so easily changed."
He watches his fingers as he smooths the faintly rumpled fabric of Devin's shirt once. "You know where you can find me, if you need me." Then he steps carefully around Devin, his touch falling away, and ascends the grassy hillside away from the shore.
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When their eyes meet again, the Fool's are wet with a sheen of unshed tears. Whatever he has to say, it takes him yet another moment to master himself, and he can't completely check the almost melodic waver in his voice when he admits, "Since I arrived in Aifaran, you have been my most constant, my most unwavering, my most diligent and," this next said with a trace of a smile, "my most infuriatingly stubborn, dear friend." His eyes soften and drop to where his fingers touch Devin's jaw, lingering there; he takes a breath before he goes on. "Truthfully, after Fitz, that is not something I believed I would ever experience again. Not after what I demanded he endure for my calling."
The scale isn't the same; the blood on the Fool's hands belongs only to him, and to Fitz, but it is there, and the guilt that comes with it is as multifaceted and layered as the inexplicable grief he felt upon being brought back from the dead on the Glacier Plains. It takes up such impressive real estate in his heart that to find that he still has the capacity for longing, for desire, for something more, is an astounding relief.
He makes a soft sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "So you see," he begins again, "you can't mislead me, Devin. You have already given me an irreplaceable gift, and I will always cherish it."
For a moment he hesitates, then gives in to a small, selfish impulse. He leans in to press a gentle kiss to Devin's cheek, just softly, just once; his hand falls to settle just above Devin's heart. When he draws back, there's a bittersweet twist to the corners of his mouth, and though the words he speaks belong to another time, another place, it seems only natural to say them again now. "I set no limits on what I feel for you--and my heart is not a weathervane. I'm not so easily changed."
He watches his fingers as he smooths the faintly rumpled fabric of Devin's shirt once. "You know where you can find me, if you need me." Then he steps carefully around Devin, his touch falling away, and ascends the grassy hillside away from the shore.