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Brother (bamjeldrnicd) wrote in utr_logs,

"Fryd... What would you have me say?" Brother was good at falling in love. Devotion came easily to him. And there was a time when he could look at Morrigan dispassionately, as someone he occasionally had sex with who viewed him in more or less equal terms. As someone he liked, as someone he would rather have near than far, but not someone he was in love with. Then, at some point, that changed. She didn't become friendly, as such, but she was less hostile. In quiet moments, she would let her guard down, and he would meet someone soft and gentle and emotional, if only for brief periods. At night, she would curl into him and make contented sounds as she did so. He wasn't blind; he knew that she could be mean and vicious and cruel. But he didn't think of that as the real Morrigan. He thought of the real Morrigan as the one he got the rare glimpses of from time to time. And though she was mean, she never seemed to be cruel to him.

And that was the part of her he loved the most.

And now, it seemed, he was wrong. "I am sorry," he said, standing up. His strength hadn't returned, so he was still a bit unstable on his feet, but he did not want to be here. Ever again, possibly. "I thought you were... the other you. The one who curled up against me in the night and smiled at me when she thought I was not looking. The one who was soft and gentle sometimes when we... made love." His voice broke here. But it wasn't making love, was it? Not if she was doing it to Zevran. It was nothing to you, was it? When he spoke again, his voice was steady, but only just. "I loved that part of you. And I loved the strong and sharp and prickly person you are sometimes. But I thought that the real you was the other you. And I thought that she loved me." He was trying to limp to the door. The floor was strewn with debris, but his slow shuffle pushed much of it out of the way. "I was wrong. I am sorry to have wasted your time."