Yeah.

If he wants us to know, I guess. I can't figure out how much he isn't saying out of - a desire for privacy - and how much out of a desire to not give us nighmares and how much out of a desire to not give us ammunition -

Middle thing, I think, if I assume he's not dissembling. Well, metaphorically, he can't really give me nightmares.

It's not as if filling in the blanks with imagination is pleasant....

It's really not, but - he knows that, so -

Yeah.

And as soon as they're somewhere private he pulls Kib into his arms again. Please tell me we're doing the right thing.

Squeeze. I think so. I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't think so.

I know. Me neither. But it used to be - easier to tell - 

I think the most likely thing is that he's fucked up but does not have his motives seriously tampered with and is capable of acting around the fuckupedness up to and including producing solid Kinging and that this will be better for him than kicking around doing - non-sensitive easily-replaced work.

I think so too but if his motives are tampered with in a way we failed to think of and protect against then so many people will die having prioritized his happiness will look like quite the crime.

Yep. Operating under uncertainty is not fun. We can double-check him.

At his best he could outplay us both. It'd be odd if the Enemy both damaged that and changed his motives.

I did beat him at Governor sometimes.

I doubt that the Enemy knows how to change motives without breaking anything on the way in. It just... seems unlikely.

Yeah. He runs a hand through Kib's hair and half-sobs, half-sighs.

Kib snuggles up. I love you.

I love you. I trust you. I am so glad I am not going through this without you.

Kib sighs into the side of Findekáno's neck and then leans up to kiss his cheek.

He relaxes very slightly and then runs his hand through Kib's hair again. 

This is probably theoretically unhealthy in some way, Kib observes detachedly while his hand creeps up to Findekáno's scalp.

Crossed my mind. When it was just - wanting to not think about Maitimo, I don't - don't want to use you to distract myself - but when it's needing you, needing to know we're in this together - 

I have a distracting myself motive in here but I can do things for multiple reasons.

I will be as distracting as possible, he says fervently.

Love you, sighs Kib, and he leans in to the distraction as best he can.

Maitimo takes over from his regent. Very gracefully, with nearly a year's slow transition time so nothing's lost in the doing. He is excellent at being a King. He is miraculously and wholly recovered, and everyone marvels. There is a festival of celebration which lasts three weeks and includes, of course, some formal dances. He dances. He smiles. He tells his little sister bedtime stories. 

Kib double-checks things.