The last trial had been... difficult. Even though Fridgar tended to act a lot like his typical boisterous self no matter the occasion, Alistair was not so mentally strong it seemed, and spent most of the previous day mulling about. He used the Eye as an excuse, forming the massive construct in the Coven's dwelling in Etzos, utilizing the auditorium for said purpose with the consent of Talia. He connected Etzos to Ne'haer, Rynmere and Rharne, and thus all of these four places to another, yet not once did he manage to properly - in that trial - connect himself to Fridgar. They had been... distant that day, and all was not quite better as of yet.
What feelings they had before the fifth had been marred and left sleeping, a dangerous air laying beneath the outward folds. All was not normal, even if it seemed quite normal on the surface. For once since coming together, Alistair feared. He worried that, maybe, he would lose Fridgar. So of course, when the man asked him to go for a walk, he accepted hastily and without fully grasping his response. Yes. Of course he would go - he loved the man after all, and he didn't want what had occurred these past couple of trials to haunt them over-long. So, he gathered his silk brocade vest and his linen slacks, gathered his gear and accessories and went with the man on the walk he requested, carefully observing his surroundings as he basked in the warmth of Ashan.
This was his favorite season, and it was also the one he was born on, something he hadn't yet told his beloved mate. He would, soon - but first, they had to clear the air.
"Rynmere?" he asked, cocking his head. "I thought you hated the place," the man whispered, a silly grin growing on the curves of his lips. He knew the man was only asking to break the ice, but he couldn't help but savor the moment... Fridgar actually showing interest in Rynmere, the place of his home, the place he loved. "Things are interesting. My mother is the Duchess now, can you believe it? I haven't told you much about my family, but I utterly despise that woman, and she's greatly unfit to lead. Nevertheless, lead she shall, and I will take her place as the Baron of Novilane."
Novilane. A land he'd only scarcely explored as its ruler, though one he visited frequently in his youth. It was a great barony, fully capable of claiming the title of principality if things were different, a center of cultural unorthodoxy in the heartland of Rynmere. He was proud of his new Barony, and he vowed to do well as its Lord, a task that would pull him away from Fridgar often... though that was something they hadn't yet discussed. It was an important conversation, one that they would need to have. But not yet.
There was a lot that had happened in Rynmere, but most of it didn't concern Fridgar now. Only the happenings in Venora would matter to him, as they held importance in their relationship. As such, Alistair moved on from the subject, and quietly prepared himself to approach the topic his lover had brought to him.
Dig up old wounds...
"Lovely wording, that," the aristocrat replied, shaking his head with another silly look on his face. Hopefully he wouldn't literally dig up old wounds - Alistair needed to buy more bandages after that whole thing. Someone with a torso as large as Fridgar required a whole bloody roll.
The man wasn't offended in the slightest. It was something they needed to discuss, and he was glad his mate brought it forward. Someone had to - it was refreshing to know that Fridgar wouldn't just leave things like this hanging. He cared. He didn't want their relationship to be like this, all soured.
Why did you get so upset, when...
The mage raised a brow, utterly perplexed. He seemed almost bewildered by the question.
"Why wouldn't I get upset, Fridgar? I don't understand the question. Seeing the man I love, who I've sworn to protect, and be with for the rest of his days... pressed into the floor, in agony, bleeding - rakes across his chest, a sodding arrow lodged into his back. And all because of me." Emotions were still high. Although he tried to be calm, he couldn't be. The mage immediately began to tear up again, losing his composure, reminded of the sight. It was so brutal. So fucking brutal. He'd seen a thousand times worse, but never had he been responsible for doing such a thing to someone he cared so deeply for. He wasn't a sociopath anymore. Alistair wasn't the man he was just a year ago, on this same trial. He couldn't let it go.
"I hurt you," he began to whimper. "And then I blamed you for it. All that pain I wrought before, so self-justified... it all came in at once. Looking at you was a reminder. I can't be like that again. You're the man I want to change for. Do you understand?"
