meadowlarklogs | YOU HEAT ME LIKE A FILAMENT.

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YOU HEAT ME LIKE A FILAMENT.

WHO: Ardyn (

daemonized) & X’rhun (

verflair)
WHERE: On the train to New Tokyo.
WHEN: Oct. 8th
WHAT: An awkward conversation.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: None. To be added if this changes.

[The train is more crowded than before, abuzz with movement and conversation. There’s a dearth of real light, now that it careens through an underwater route, but artificial illumination provides glittering fractals bouncing across the bar. Glasses clink with the mild vibrations of their journey, though never enough to truly distract.

Ardyn leans with an elbow pressed into the counter, already nursing something warm and amber in a stout glass. In his periphery, he sees movement, coupled with the frame of a familiar friend — a turn of the head, and he gives the man a dragon’s smile.]

A bit busier than it was before, isn’t it? And yet— [He motions at the empty space next to him.] —the bar still has a vacant spot or two, if you’re looking to quench your thirst while we journey to a new city.

[They’ve still hours to go. A multitude of ways to whittle away the time; or at least, if you’re Ardyn, that’s how you approach the situation at hand: flippant, vaguely intrigued, yes, but never truly bothered by the turn of events. By the depth of what was experienced in that dreaming landscape.

Supposedly.]

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[ While everyone was sleeping, the world outside change. Reality warped, weaving itself into new paths unwittingly forged by the dreamers, and now here they all are, aboard this train bound for a blizzard instead of a monster attack.

X’rhun hates the cold.

But all that aside, he is fairly certain that he bore his heart to a certain someone in a dreamworld half-created from El Nysa and half from his own world, and X’rhun is not so sure what that means or where they are to go from here. He hasn’t been able to find Ardyn just yet to even confirm if they had the same dream.

That changes of course when he finds his way to the dining car, and there is his friend seated at the bar as if nothing at all was wrong. He truly does hate that Ardyn is so difficult to read a lot of the time. X’rhun slides into the seat offered him, resting an elbow upon the top of the bar as he considers where to even start. ]

That it is. I expected to feel refreshed after my little nap, and instead I am baffled.

Baffled?

[He’s ordered what appears to be an entire bottle of whiskey, fresh and mostly-full, amber liquid glittering. An empty glass already awaits X’rhun, as if Ardyn — always pretending to be less far-seeing than he is — had expected his friend to come looking.

Well, here he is.]

And by what manner of dreaming do you find yourself in such a confused state, my friend?

[He says as he tips the lip of his glass to mouth, feeling warmth rush down his throat. Distinctly casual, none too worried, and yet he fishes all the same. Maybe that’s telling on its own, never mind how his eyes, matching the color of the spirit, are keen with amusement.]

[ He cannot help but mark that empty glass, blue eyes flicking from it to Ardyn and back. It is apparent he was expected, and X’rhun’s suspicions about the events of his dream being a shared experience is becoming more realized by the moment.

X’rhun cants his head at his friend curiously, as he reaches for the bottle and idly fills what he correctly assumes to be his glass. ]

I meant I am baffled by the sudden appearance of the rest of our fellow displaced on the train. [ He lets that sit a moment while he ponders the contents of his glass, ultimately lifting it to his lips for a drink. ]

But, since you are so keen to bring up dreams, I wonder if you perhaps took a little trip to a slice of my home star while you were sleeping, as well.

[The clarification is another blatant clue that Ardyn knows what weighs between them now. A declaration of weaknesses and vulnerabilities and feeling that he’d rather shut down and not have to deal with, a silent curse to that damnable dreamscape and how easily that (should be) dead part of him was wrenched free. Conversation is upon them now, he can see it in X’rhun’s serious expression, but he makes sure his own grin is a permanent fixture.

It’s a trick that's unlikely to work, knowing his friend so well: avoidance and ignorance. Blatant stubbornness to circle around the topic as if it were a firestorm that might burn him to ashes if he so wandered near. Yet X’rhun is Behemoth-headed in his own right, and will likely rip right past this veil, but he tries anyway—]

And if I said I didn’t have the faintest idea of what you were talking about?

[A swirl of his glass, and he sets it back down.]

[ X’rhun has developed quite the talent for reading Ardyn, for picking out the meaning in the way he dodges questions or sidesteps around certain topics. And this topic of all topics is something that Ardyn would most certainly want to avoid. Matters of the heart were never a part of their agreement, mostly because Ardyn believed he had no heart left.

And yet X’rhun is certain he has seen it, what little of it remains. ]

Hm. I would counter that I think you do.

[ He lifts the glass in his hand carefully with the tips of his fingers, shaking it lightly at his friend. The liquid inside catches the light as its tossed about by the motion. ]

Or else you were simply hoping I’d pass by for no reason.

[Too clever and too close to let it slide. Ardyn considers X’rhun for a moment, wondering just how he’s allowed him to slip in through these glaring crevices; how many instances he’s seen him so raw that his facades might as well be as weak and crumbling as papier-mache now. If he were to be honest, it bothers him.

But Ardyn is hardly ever honest in moments like these, instead deigning to roll a shoulder in what must be a shrug.]

Maybe I thought you’d come looking for me, your dearest friend.

[Yet it’s no use, he knows. And so he turns his body to face the bar, clinks a fingernail against clear glass, and says—]

But you’re right, I did visit. I imagine we needn’t go over the details, unless you feel as if there are parts you’re having trouble recalling?

[Should he be so lucky.]

[ They both consider one another, with X’rhun wondering if his friend will ever tire of the constant ducking and weaving when things venture a bit too close to serious for his liking. It is true that Ardyn is straightforward with him on occasion, which is more than he can say for how Ardyn is with everyone else, but he fully expects to be involved in this dance for far longer than he is. ]

No, I recall it all. Every word.

[ So much for wishful thinking. Sorry, Ardyn. ]

I think it warrants a discussion, don’t you?

[Ducking and weaving, a careful step to avoid when things move too close to the heart. It'll be a constant waltz, until X'rhun hits upon the moving target, the elephant in the room, the main takeaway from their dreamlike conversation that Ardyn would rather ignore completely.

No, I recall it all. Every word.

A reality that doesn't appear as if it'll happen, at this rate.]

I don't know what there is to discuss. Does this change anything between us?

[Dismissiveness is next, after feigned ignorance. A line of defenses to be employed when one has already toppled over.]

[ Then X’rhun shall simply keep having to knock down these defenses, sending them toppling like a row of dominoes. Sometimes – perhaps too many times – he lets Ardyn get away with it, engaging in joking banter when things stray too far on the side of serious or personal. This time, however, he feels that avoidance will only hurt them in the end. One can only ignore the behemoth in the room for so long before it steps on you. ~~Or casts ecliptic meteor.~~ ]

Ardyn.

[ Ever patient, X’rhun doesn’t sound annoyed. He had to work to break through the dragon’s hide once before. That he must do it again in the waking world is of little surprise to him. ]

I think that it does, if only for the simple fact that the feelings I was trying to convince myself I did not have are out in the open now. I realize this was never supposed to be a part of the arrangement, but looking back, perhaps it was inevitable.

[Maybe the Behemoth should just allow itself to cast meteor all over this whole mess. It would be a simpler way of dealing with it -- it would be how Ardyn deals with things, at any rate -- than having to face the brunt of this conversation they're about to have.

Because X'rhun delves straight into it, and Ardyn, who had lifted up the glass once more to take a stout drink, stills his arm for just a half-second. As if a gear's been caught, something sharp and uncomfortable coiling itself around his chest.]

You call it inevitable, but was it really?

[And the drink is taken, burning as it goes down his damnably mortal throat. He sets the glass back on the counter with a dull thud, eyes temporarily not meeting X'rhun's.]

Given that you knew the sort of person I am, that I cannot return any sort of affection along the strands of our friendship, perhaps you shouldn't have agreed to our arrangement to begin with. Or cut it short. Where does that leave us now? In a rather sticky situation, I'd say, when we were just having so much fun before.

[Ardyn knows, quite honestly, that's not fair. That X'rhun is too earnest, too good to forestall any growing connection he might've felt between them. But this revelation is like broken glass; it hurts to draw near, shearing past his usual facade, and so Ardyn refuses to face it. Refuses to examine it on his end.]

[ X’rhun has not climbed this whole way, has not spent his time piecing together every little puzzle piece given him and wedging himself slowly but surely though the cracks in Ardyn’s façade to be undone by something like a meteor.

If he can face down the visage of the Dread Wyrm, he can deal with this awkward sort of thing that has settled itself between them, and he does so by addressing it outright. Ardyn cannot dance around the direct, no matter how he might try.

X’rhun leave his own glass where he set it, turning in his seat to better regard his friend as he falls still for just a beat, and X’rhun knows that he’s hit his mark. ]

‘Tis not the first time I have offered something with the expectation of naught in return.

[ As much as he had prepared himself for this, for Ardyn to once again affirm that he is incapable of affection and shy away whether that is true or not, it does not stop the feeling of something constricting itself around his heart. He was honest with Ardyn in that dreaming world, yes, but it was also the first time he had been honest with himself. Perhaps living in willful ignorance makes it easier to bear the knowledge that whether they are enemies, friends, or something more, there is no happy ending for them.

But those fetters were shed on a whirlwind trip through clouds and stars, and all X’rhun can do now is endure. ]

So I do not know where this leaves us, but I would know if this changes aught for you.

[Ardyn doesn’t turn to look at him. He appears more interested in the glasses behind the bar, clinking with the subtle vibrations of the train, eyes taking in the way the light glimmers. His friend, for now, will have to make do with the cut or his profile, and the way his brow furrows only slightly, faint lines of shadow across his skin.]

Then if you ask for nothing, you shall receive nothing in turn. That is the way of things, if you wish to keep your expectations as they are.

[But it is different now, isn’t it? Knowing that X’rhun possesses that kind of affection for him, something running far deeper than friendship. And that part of Ardyn, that small ember of light, that yearns for such a connection — he hates how he cannot hide that now. A truth revealed raw in those dreams, unable to be smothered.

(For the first time in a long, long while, he thinks of Aera. Of that connection once housed between two people, gone shattering under the pressure and inevitability of fate. Why would he want to do that to himself again? His friend acts as if he understands, but there is a part that they’re not acknowledging, perhaps unsurprisingly given X’rhun’s selfless nature.)]

Expectations and want, however are two very different things. Is this what you desire, dear friend — for things to remain as they were?

[ Now it is X’rhun who falls still. Of all the things, he hadn’t expected Ardyn to turn an arrow on him, to strike at his heart as surely as X’rhun had but a moment before. He very seldomly takes his own desires into consideration, and one of the few times he did is what landed them in this situation to begin with.

Ardyn poses that question, asks him to consider his own feelings, and that it comes on the words “dear friend” seems almost unfair.

X’rhun’s gaze slides away from the man next to him. It isn’t as if he hasn’t considered what he wants, but now he must consider just how honest he wants to be. How much can he say before Ardyn’s avoidance of the topic becomes an avoidance of him?

In the end, however, he suspects Ardyn already knows the answer. There was not a lot of room left for interpretation in their conversation in the dreamscape. ]

‘Twould be a lie to say yes, but if my choices are between the way things were or nothing at all, then I would certainly choose the former.

[Smart of X’rhun to be honest. A lie would’ve been something Ardyn could easily shred through, their dreamscape informing them both of needs and wants and all the messy things in-between.

That’s the thing about dreams, isn’t it? They eke out past the edges of reality, twist themselves into some wonderful or terrible shape, reflective of the dreamer and not tied down by the waking world. But here, and now, on this train colliding through the darkness and cold ocean, reality is all sharp edges and boxed-in desires; limitations, unwillingness, practicality, and the blessed ability to sweep aside dreamlike revelations with only a handful of words.

Just a few sharpened syllables.]

Then the former it is.

[And with a drawn-out gesture, the glittering whiskey is downed in finality, and Ardyn looks at X’rhun with the light drained out of his eyes.]

Since you’re quite clever enough to understand that wanting too much oft leads to nothing at all. Is it not settled? Are we not done, then, with all this talk of dreams taking the shape of dragons? Back to how it was before, easy as that.

[Avoidance. Dismissal. A hidden rejection wrapped up in that weak part of him, so fearful. Easy as that.]

[ He knows the blow is coming long before it lands. He knows that Ardyn – Ardyn who has been through so much, who has had a terrible fate thrust upon his shoulders in the same moment his world was ripped from beneath his feet. Ardyn who, laid bare and vulnerable with darkness sloughing off his form in great dark waves, whispered softly and pleadingly in his ear, This is not what I want. – will choose to spare himself from even the possibility of loss.

So, he knows it's coming, but there is still a part of him cut by the edges of those words.

They both talk as if it's a simple thing, but he wonders how easy it will really be to act as if nothing is different at all, when the truth is there, lying just beneath his skin, thrumming with every touch, every beat of his foolish, longing heart. ]

That's it, then? Not even a moment of consideration?

Ah, there it is. [The words leave him with the purr of a predator, and Ardyn releases his grip on the glass, deigning to lean closer to X'rhun. Eyes lock onto the other, as if he has him ensnared in a trap, that question a thread for him to pull at so he can watch everything unravel.

That’s just his nature now, isn’t it? A destroyer, the accursed. Making ill of all he touches.]

That disappointment. [Tone low, mouth tilted up in its usual grin, a subtle flash of white teeth.] That wretched hope for something more.

[And then there are fingers brushing against X’rhun’s chin, a thumb and forefinger tipping his head at a delicate angle.]

Remember how it feels in this moment. And know that it will sting tenfold -- no, a hundredfold more -- when the time comes to sever whatever this is between us.

[ Trapped he is, caught in the hold of those amber eyes. Ardyn's fingers brush his face, and he feels the warmth of the empathy bond bloom in his chest, the sting on those words, shards of broken glass slotting between his ribs, slipping through the connection ere he can think to tamp it down.

But X'rhun, as ever, is a stubborn creature, defiantly hopeful and steadfast even though he is hurting. He may not know the kind of loss that Ardyn does, he may not understand the sort of pain wrought by two-thousand years of lonely existence, but he is no stranger to his own sort of loss. His order, his friends, his homeland, he has lost so very much as well and yet he has always endeavored to move forward. Ardyn means to undo him with the very real threat of heartache, but X'rhun would consider the greater tragedy to be not trying at all. ]

Is that what you're afraid of, Ardyn?

[His needling is met with stubborn steel (perhaps not all that surprising), but it’s the question that’s gone and flipped itself around that has Ardyn’s smile dipping. He doesn’t pull away, even as the empathy bond informs the other of a sudden emotional jolt in the other direction, the way one pulls a hand out of a fire when skin starts to burn.]

Thousands of years imprisoned, my veins festering and gone rotted with darkness. A betrayal by family, loved ones, and gods alike, a whetstone to sharpen my anger, so that I might yield it as a tool against those who wronged me. All of that, and you think that I care so much that this loss would even register on the same level as what I’ve just listed?

[Maybe it does, and maybe that’s what scares him the most. But a cornered predator bites, and Ardyn’s fangs have gone viciously sharp over the years. ]

The only thing I’m afraid of, X’rhun, is wasting my time.

[ Ardyn's mouth says one thing, but the empathy bond says quite another. A sudden withdrawal, as if he did not expect X'rhun to turn the jagged edges of this conversation on him in return, and unwittingly pricked his finger.

Ice colored eyes stay locked on amber ones, and now he's not sure who is holding who captive.

This wouldn't be the first time X'rhun has watched Ardyn bear his fangs, snapping at him in an attempt to get him to back off. “We had fun, didn't we?” he'd said on an early morning, worlds away as he tried to write off their friendship as mere amusement, something done to pass the time, all without ever dropping the blade to end their association himself. ]

That isn't what you told me before.

[ In the dream, that small ember X'rhun had fished out of the darkness was not so callous as he was... scared, conflicted. A lonely soul that does not wish to be lonely but cannot bring himself to reach out for fear of that inevitable end. ]

[And at that, he drops his hand, fingers curling as his hand rests against the cool surface of the bar again. The smile drains further, leaving only Ardyn with shadowed brows.]

What I said before in that place, that dream, doesn't matter.

[If only that part of him should remain dead, never to surface again. He should not care if it did.]

The decisions made here in the waking world do. That is what the both of us shall abide by; not the weak lamentations of an even weaker heart.

[ It is practically audible, the way the walls slam into place, just as surely as the empathy bond goes dark as Ardyn withdraws his hand. X’rhun had hope, perhaps foolishly, that having a heart to heart with whatever small sliver of hope was left at Ardyn’s core might make him less likely to withdraw, but he has tried to reach out, he has turned this conversation on its head, and still nothing.

Nothing with Ardyn is ever simple, and he knows he has to prepare himself for the very real possibility that, true to his word, nothing will ever come of this at all. ]

So that is what you want, everything the same as it was?

[ The same and yet not the same. They can never truly go back, not after all this. ]

Yes. That is exactly what I want.

[The same and yet not the same. Maybe they can't go back, both of them now aware of the revelations hanging over their heads, but Ardyn is particularly good at pretending sharp objects aren't about to impale him from above — or he simply (pretends, always) not to care.]

Shall we agree upon it, then? Forget all of that you saw, treat it as a the dream it was? Superfluous, fleeting, and impermanent.

[ Not all of it was a dream, is the problem. X’rhun’s feelings are very much real, and not so fleeting as Ardyn makes them out to be. It’s been over a year now, and he is beginning to think perhaps he’s always felt this way, it was just easier to hide it from Ardyn when he was hiding it from himself. ]

There are some things I simply cannot forget, Ardyn, but I’ll not ask you for anything you think yourself incapable of giving.

[All very much a truth he doesn't know what to do with. And so what other recourse is there, other than to shut this down completely (he doesn't want that, if he were to be honest with himself, and as if it weren't already so obvious; why else has he kept this friendship stoked for so long? A man like him, known for cruelty and a hollowed-out heart) or to pretend nothing's changed at all.]

Then pretend to forget. I'm certain you can do that well enough.

[Unfair to ask, maybe, but he's never cared much about fairness in moments like these.]

[ Then pretend to forget.

He has not idea what to make of that. A callous request on the surface, but neither is it an outright denial of his feelings. Neither is it Ardyn putting an end to this, to them. That Ardyn is even willing to walk this razor’s edge, to entertain this friendship when he knows what lies beneath the surface, must surely count as some sort of victory. It means that whatever this is, whatever they may be to each other, he does not want to let it go.

Even in the waking world, they remain a pair of fools, clinging tightly to one another as the ground rushes up to meet them.

The silence stretches on between them, X’rhun watching his friend’s face and realizing that he may be on the dragon’s back, but punching through those scales is proving to be much more difficult. ]

Fine. Consider it “forgotten”.

[ The air quotes are practically audible. The Miqo’te slips out of his seat, leaving the rest of his drink untouched. It may seem they’ve reached an agreement for now, but he needs a moment to himself. ]

I know we’ve just had a terribly long nap, but do try to rest ere we reach our destination. There is now, apparently, a lot of shoveling snow in our future.

[The conversation is over, the matter tended to. But it’s left like a corpse at their feet, still faintly bleeding out, maybe still breathing — no, only ignored for now, not disposed of.

But that’s good enough for Ardyn. X’rhun presents him with the chance to slot back into his normal self, his comfortable self, a dismissive hand against serious considerations, shrugging everything off of broad shoulders, watching intimacies clatter to the ground. This — and perhaps especially in this moment — is no different. He sees it as a victory, and intends to never speak of what was exchanged between them in the dreams ever again.

Time will tell just how manageable of a goal this will be. But Ardyn is a stubborn sort.]

Oh, yes, how I look forward to the cold. [He lets a laugh dog at X’rhun’s feet, trailing behind him, as the other man moves away from the counter, leaving the rest of his drink untouched.]

Rest up! We’ve long days and exciting days ahead of us.

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YOU HEAT ME LIKE A FILAMENT.

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NOW IN THE RIGHT TAB

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