driftfleet | (no subject)

Mmm. We could have that argument again, but I find myself disinclined today. I'd hate to wear it out so quickly.

[Crucial? Now that is an odd thought indeed. He's always in his own mind been the pewling runt, fighting tooth and nail to keep from being eradicated by a universe that hates his very existence. The opposite of being crucial, really.]

Ah.

I'd have to see the weave of such fabric and see if it suits first.

If it does not, you'll do what you have done best. Change the rules.

The sound of rules shattering is ever music to my ears.

The thought of being so crucial... perhaps less so, for I am a feckless thing. [He grins. Oh, but he does thirst for... not so much importance, as validation. Power.] Though if there were not magic in the universe, it would be a colorless place indeed.

[ He clicks his tongue. Magic is not his domain. ]

I would not say colorless. Muted, perhaps, but not so different.

Oh Leto. If only you could see through my eyes, you might understand.

I lived for a time with all the magic torn from my blood. And I lived for another time with my eyes blinded. Given the choice, I would take the latter.

I see too much as it is.

[ But he acknowledges the point. There's plenty he cannot see or fathom. The world of magics is too distant from him. Leto only sees realities. Too many realities could stifle anyone's creativity. ]

'twould benefit you to see differently.

Looking at things sideways tends to be enlightening.

I am aware. But my ability to do so is . . . [ He waves a hand flippantly. When there's too much in your head, it is difficult to separate the unknowns from what is known. ]

Perhaps some day I shall trust you enough to lend you my eyes.

[Likely not. That would require the level of trust he gave only to Frigga, and then only too late.

Trust he'd offered to Rogue once, come to think of it. So perhaps not as impossible as it could be.]

Edited 2016-04-24 07:16 (UTC)

[ He softens at that. For Loki to even speak of it is an large decision. ]

Then for now, I'll continue to trust what you say.

Beautiful fool.

[Speak to him so sweetly, Leto, and you will turn his head.]

I have never denied it.

[He considers for a moment, then holds out his hand to Leto. It may be the time for some small measure of truth.]

[ He takes it without hesitation. ]

Closer. [He gives Leto's hand a little tug. Ultimate, he wants the man sitting in front of him, so that they face the same direction.]

[ He tilts his head, a slight smile playing on his lips before he follows and kneels, sitting on his knees and looking demure. ]

[Loki leans forward to slide his arms under Leto's, picking his hands up and turning them so they rest, palm up, on Loki's palms.]

Attend well.

[He presses palms together, then unfolds them like opening a book, light shattering in the space between. Leto's hands are so curiously warm against his, but for once his own skin might match, the warm flow of his magic melting away natural chill. He speaks near Leto's ear, letting that magic play up through his fingers.]

Stir [thy--no, he is still not so familiar with Leto as that] your fingers, and you shall feel the waves of light vibrating as strings on a lute.

[ His eye lashes flutter at that. ]

Shall I play a tune?

[ But he obeys. He pulls out the memory of playing a lute and his fingers move accordingly. ]

[Magic is an act of will, at its base. He knows that Leto lacks the ability as it manifests in him, as Frigga called it forth when she showed him the start of this lesson. But if he focuses, eyes closed, he can translate what he feels to something more palpable that Leto ought to be able to pick up.

He moves his fingers with Leto's, and there is the wash of energy, the vibration at different pitches that can't quite be heard but can be felt, the color like temperature, the wavelength like music.]

And know, then, thou art made of this too, forged in the heart of stars. [A slip up, an echo of his mother's words, but he wishes that feeling, he could convey as well.]

[ His eyes are wide, brightest blue. It is hard not to find them a little unnerving, especially when he stares. Leto has touched magic a little. It was hard not to when he began in Aather, but this was his magic brought to colour. ]

You make me sound so unique.

[It is not a shade of blue that unnerves Loki. Only one does that. And his eyes are still almost closed in concentration, but more than that--a moment of abandoning himself to this simple pleasure. Not something he has time to do when he's utilizing magic in its more combat-oriented forms.]

For you are. Each the same, and each unique. Just as this-- [He stirs Leto's index finger with his own, playing at those eddies of light, shifting them.] --this moment when we have come together in spite of all odds shall never be repeated across the myriad universes and repeated endlessly. Both are true.

[ His truth-sense flares within him, confirming this. It was his connection to Loki that led him here, but he never foresaw this depth. Visions are incomplete creatures and there were many roads that led nowhere.

A gift. A silent miracle. ]

I hear the truth in it.

This is the greatest truth I know. [And to have shared even such a small corner of it is... not something he had set out to do today, at all. What an unexpected turn. But he does go where his instinct and emotion leads.

He stirs their fingers through the light again, reading the shape of it, tasting the star from which is originated, the lump of iron at its heart. That star, in miniature, forms briefly in the air over their hands as he thinks of it, twists the light back to the shape of its origin.]

[ He watches it unfold, in spirals of light and magic. His heart clenches at the beauty of it. Leto is beauty and harshness folded together in the form of a desert creature. He does not think less of himself, but he pushes himself further and further away from beauty as it slips from his physical form.

He remembers the sandworms. Perhaps he had beauty in his own way. He dips his fingers in the light. He is Fremen, so he does not cry. But it is a near thing. ]

[He feels the emotion there, the advantage for the taking, but he does not go on the attack in that way. This is perhaps something too personally important to him.

Or perhaps not. There is kindness in cruelty, and cruelty in kindness. He follows that movement of Leto's fingers, unwinds the light as instinct says it directs.]

Wouldst see thyself as I see thee?

[An offer he has only ever made to one other person.]

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