[coming to check on him, seeing him in such distress, a frown creases Dantes's brow. whatever lurks in his mind, he's pulled into regret - if only he could go, burn it away and leave Andersen untroubled the way he used to do for their Master. absent that, all he can do is stand by the bed, slowly reaching a hand out to place on his shoulder.]
[Touch is new. Foreign. Andersen jolts awake and swipes out on instinct. He bumps his back against the headboard as he scrambles back, blankets tangling his legs. Only when he realizes it's Dantes (not a rathmore, not friend-turned-foe, just his bonded, his friend) does he freeze in place.
Slowly, he puts a hand to his head. He can feel a throbbing headache coming on.]
Don't watch me sleep.
[There'd be more poison to the words if his voice wasn't so soft.]
[he remains where he is, hand jerked back after Andersen was awake and tried to strike out - only a natural thing. they've lived through this before. Dantes knows how nightmares grip and twist one's psyche to the limit.
he won't push. won't ask too much, because of how very near the hurt is.]
[Andersen is an observer. He can see the worst of humanity without flinching because someone has to do it. Someone has to weave terrors into stories that can soothe and heal the heart. That's why he can't have anyone see him like this -- Dantes included. He's grateful for the out given to him.
[A subtle grimace, one Dantes will see from having been his Bonded for so long. Andersen doesn't look at him. He slips out of bed and refuses to look at him, his words taking on its usual edge.]
If you want to be Bonded so badly, just say so. I don't need you to neg me.
[for a long moment, he's silent. there are subtle twitches, a set to his jaw that Andersen will know as him carefully choosing his words, linking them together in the exact right order to say something difficult. he pulls them from himself, and has to live with them.
when he speaks at last, it is slow, rough, the syllables forming words he doesn't wish to yield up but that he will in the end. sobriety lends a clarity and an awareness of all inhibitions and blocks that are in the way, that must be surmounted to speak.]
...I didn't at first. I thought simply that you knew me from Chaldea, and we could work out some kind of arrangement, that I could trust you with my True Name because you already knew it. And over time...you became more a friend than a mere partner because of how you were. You exist around me, and grasp for more, but you do not demand that I lay the foundations for it and use the stories that come to you, not to others.
That man took my life, broke it into pieces, and rewrote whatever did not meet his approval. He warped the truth, and so it became reflected through his words, and I was altered accordingly. I will never be free of the lens of public perception. But you...
[he exhales, closing his eyes.]
You are not trying to reshape me to fit the image that you desire most.
[He is accustomed to being a means to an end, a stepping block for a greater goal. Their Master treating him as a person is a rare case; and with Kiara -- god knows that woman didn't have her head on straight to begin with. It'd be better for everyone involved to focus on his writing, not on him, yet he can't deny it makes his heart jump to hear Dantes speak so kindly of him. Andersen sets his hand on the brooch, fingers warm against the sapphire.]
Stupid. [A clipped response.] I'm a carrion animal, much as he was. If it's for the sake of a tale, I'll spin what I find. The only line separating him and I is that I'm far too lazy to trim the excess fat off my subjects.
[His shoulders tense.]
You've made up your mind on our Bond, haven't you? I don't have a chance in hell of convincing you otherwise.
[his feelings were the same as yesterday. he cannot lie and say they've changed, when it was written across his features and his outbursts.]
However. I won't force you into this matter. I will not take an answer motivated by guilt or responsibility. If you still decline, then I will find a way to content myself with that answer, and not bring it up again.
[there's a moment there where he's steeled for a rejection, for Andersen to declare once again all his faults.
and then he does not, and Dantes cannot name the emotion that wells in his chest where that sensation of being cut off used to be.]
Then you'll have to let me know when you want to go over there.
[since. it's his research. and he had just been in a drunken sleep not too long ago. but in Dantes' expression there's enough traces of softening to say that he takes very well to that idea.]
[He can read the man like an open book and the honesty there is almost painful. Andersen scratches at the back of his neck with sudden ferocity, as if trying to rid himself of a flea, and says:]
We may as well go now. [Nonchalant. As if he couldn't care less.] If we stay here any longer, I'll probably drink my ass off again.
...Get ready then. I'm not Bonding with you if you look like you crawled back home at dawn from revelry.
[brush your hair and change your clothes. they're still all there, and Dantes will leave to do the same for himself, to put himself together in a way he hasn't in weeks. the more he dresses up, brushes his hair and takes care of his appearance, the more he feels like his old self, and by the time he's fully ready to head out, there's a subtle shift to how he carries himself.
he's happy. genuinely. and only someone who knows him so closely will see it in his heart. it is the usual aristocratic flair that meets Andersen to depart for the Coven.]
[He rolls his eyes but goes to his wardrobe once Dantes has left. He can stomach being a slob when he's cooped himself up in his study to churn out manuscripts; not so much when he goes out, and especially not with such an important event like this. He holds a shirt in his hands. For a moment, he's struck by the sudden impulse to drop it, to backtrack on his agreement. It's still not too late.
Andersen takes a deep breath and gets ready.
When he meets Dantes at the door, he looks much better compared to earlier. He looks respectable. Alive. And when he sees him, he raises his eyebrows.]
You almost look like the Count. You're overdressing, you know.
This is how I usually dress. Or have you forgotten?
[he takes the scornful comment as it's truly meant, and they head out. what surprises him most when they reach the Coven is what witch is manning the Bonding office - the very same as they'd witnessed the last time they swore vows here.
he thinks she's studying them a little too closely now.]
[Dantes' reproach is as swift, a hand being placed on his shoulder and a slightly apologetic look shot towards the witch, who shakes her head and gestures for them to move on to where the ceremony will take place. out of the corner of his mouth, he shoots:]
She could refuse us service because of you. Behave.
[But Andersen shuts his mouth. Even as he rolls his eyes and scowls, he remains silent as he follows the Witch, careful not to break stride with Dantes. The uneasiness in his chest is growing, a large pressure that squeezes tight in on himself. He's thankful they don't have the Bond established -- not yet.]
[he can tell something's amiss from Andersen's attitude, and he stops once they're in the room, lowering his voice and deliberately pushing against the spell that makes all words understood. another language, for a common middle ground - servants understood it, but perhaps not the people of this city.]
[To hear him speak against the spell comes as a surprise to Andersen. Was he so obvious? He forces himself to relax, to drop his shoulders, but the damage has already been done.]
... I can be your Bonded in this world, Dantes, but I must ask you. Is that the only thing you see me as?
[the words leave him silent, and the Witch, noticing the change in the air, goes and feigns as though she's forgotten something, leaving them in the room with the circle for the ritual. Dantes notices her go, and when the door shuts, he speaks again. still against the spell, for privacy, but his eyes look at Andersen - searching for some sort of answer there.]
If this is something about feeling responsible, or that you want to be treated as some sort of tool...
[he cares for his wellbeing, beyond the business arrangement. he'll say it again if he has to.]
[He looks away. Andersen has always been easy to read. His sincerity bleeds through, even when he does his best to scare people from getting too close. If Dantes looks too long at him, he thinks he may crack, more than he already is.]
It has nothing to do with those things. I only want to know how you value me -- what manner of friend I am to you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Andersen.
[soft, and then a little louder, with the touch.]
Andersen.
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Slowly, he puts a hand to his head. He can feel a throbbing headache coming on.]
Don't watch me sleep.
[There'd be more poison to the words if his voice wasn't so soft.]
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[he remains where he is, hand jerked back after Andersen was awake and tried to strike out - only a natural thing. they've lived through this before. Dantes knows how nightmares grip and twist one's psyche to the limit.
he won't push. won't ask too much, because of how very near the hurt is.]
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His hand drops.]
I was trying to sleep until the next day.
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[he draws back, arms crossing, restraining a question about the nightmares that comes out instead as the second worst thing.]
Why do you want to sleep so long? Aren't there more important things than that?
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If you want to be Bonded so badly, just say so. I don't need you to neg me.
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[a brief pause as he looks away.]
...As for Bonding, well. I expressed my sentiments last night, and they have not altered. I leave the ultimate decision in your hands.
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Why do you trust me so much, Dantes? I'm an author like Dumas was.
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when he speaks at last, it is slow, rough, the syllables forming words he doesn't wish to yield up but that he will in the end. sobriety lends a clarity and an awareness of all inhibitions and blocks that are in the way, that must be surmounted to speak.]
...I didn't at first. I thought simply that you knew me from Chaldea, and we could work out some kind of arrangement, that I could trust you with my True Name because you already knew it. And over time...you became more a friend than a mere partner because of how you were. You exist around me, and grasp for more, but you do not demand that I lay the foundations for it and use the stories that come to you, not to others.
That man took my life, broke it into pieces, and rewrote whatever did not meet his approval. He warped the truth, and so it became reflected through his words, and I was altered accordingly. I will never be free of the lens of public perception. But you...
[he exhales, closing his eyes.]
You are not trying to reshape me to fit the image that you desire most.
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Stupid. [A clipped response.] I'm a carrion animal, much as he was. If it's for the sake of a tale, I'll spin what I find. The only line separating him and I is that I'm far too lazy to trim the excess fat off my subjects.
[His shoulders tense.]
You've made up your mind on our Bond, haven't you? I don't have a chance in hell of convincing you otherwise.
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[his feelings were the same as yesterday. he cannot lie and say they've changed, when it was written across his features and his outbursts.]
However. I won't force you into this matter. I will not take an answer motivated by guilt or responsibility. If you still decline, then I will find a way to content myself with that answer, and not bring it up again.
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... I need to begin my research, anyway. We may as well renew our Bond while we're at the Coven.
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and then he does not, and Dantes cannot name the emotion that wells in his chest where that sensation of being cut off used to be.]
Then you'll have to let me know when you want to go over there.
[since. it's his research. and he had just been in a drunken sleep not too long ago. but in Dantes' expression there's enough traces of softening to say that he takes very well to that idea.]
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We may as well go now. [Nonchalant. As if he couldn't care less.] If we stay here any longer, I'll probably drink my ass off again.
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[brush your hair and change your clothes. they're still all there, and Dantes will leave to do the same for himself, to put himself together in a way he hasn't in weeks. the more he dresses up, brushes his hair and takes care of his appearance, the more he feels like his old self, and by the time he's fully ready to head out, there's a subtle shift to how he carries himself.
he's happy. genuinely. and only someone who knows him so closely will see it in his heart. it is the usual aristocratic flair that meets Andersen to depart for the Coven.]
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Andersen takes a deep breath and gets ready.
When he meets Dantes at the door, he looks much better compared to earlier. He looks respectable. Alive. And when he sees him, he raises his eyebrows.]
You almost look like the Count. You're overdressing, you know.
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[he takes the scornful comment as it's truly meant, and they head out. what surprises him most when they reach the Coven is what witch is manning the Bonding office - the very same as they'd witnessed the last time they swore vows here.
he thinks she's studying them a little too closely now.]
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Are you paid to dress us down with your eyes as well?
[ANDERSEN DON'T]
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[Dantes' reproach is as swift, a hand being placed on his shoulder and a slightly apologetic look shot towards the witch, who shakes her head and gestures for them to move on to where the ceremony will take place. out of the corner of his mouth, he shoots:]
She could refuse us service because of you. Behave.
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[But Andersen shuts his mouth. Even as he rolls his eyes and scowls, he remains silent as he follows the Witch, careful not to break stride with Dantes. The uneasiness in his chest is growing, a large pressure that squeezes tight in on himself. He's thankful they don't have the Bond established -- not yet.]
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Is something wrong? You seem tense.
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... I can be your Bonded in this world, Dantes, but I must ask you. Is that the only thing you see me as?
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If this is something about feeling responsible, or that you want to be treated as some sort of tool...
[he cares for his wellbeing, beyond the business arrangement. he'll say it again if he has to.]
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It has nothing to do with those things. I only want to know how you value me -- what manner of friend I am to you.
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[look at him. he moves, trying to catch Andersen's gaze again.]
Can you not know, even if we don't share a Bond?
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