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Taliar in Evil Arda
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Feeling abandoned.

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Yes, that's what I am asking.

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Why would I be feeling abandoned.

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This is where ordinarily I'd order you to just let me read your thoughts so we could avoid wasting time like this, but Taliar's soul will be angry wth me if I do that. 

 

I love you. I made you everything I wanted from a person and then I learned I had to give that up to win the war and could have it anyway and willingly with someone else and it seems like you might, separately from resenting what I did to you, resent that I was able to let go so easily. And if that's so I want to let you know that it was not and is not easy and that I could not have endured the last few centuries without you and that I still shouldn't have done it and - I don't think Taliar's soul would object if we spent time together, if I don't give any orders -

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I never want to interact with you again, Maitimo.

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Okay. Sorry.

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...he must have really gotten in the habit of leaning on mindreading, if he didn't even suspect that of being a lie. 

 

He goes out for a walk and stays out late and comes back as restless as he went out.

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And Taliar wakes up in the morning and picks up his soul and looks at the glowing golden spark inside it. It's noticeably bigger and brighter than it was the night before last, more comparable to a grain of coarse sand than a dust mote in size, more like a fragment of flame than a speck of starlight in brightness. Yesterday was pretty good for it.

Okay, this isn't going to work but it should, so he's going to try it anyway. He holds his soul and sits and stares at it and thinks: listen, this is the most important problem I have ever faced. The only person I've heard of who has come close to doing something as important as defeating the Enemy was Tezru Diakor uniting the world, and this is bigger. I can't afford to take months to get back to where I was two days ago, let alone the length of time it's going to take to get to an Enemy-defeating point after that. I demand to become a god immediately.

The spark brightens. Not enough, not remotely enough. He sighs and tries again, this time thinking about Maitimo. Yes, obviously, unacceptable things are still unacceptable, but Taliar understands him now, it makes sense in context, can't he just—be okay with it, can't it be okay that this is who Maitimo is, can't he accept it enough to make his love for Maitimo into the crashing tide of exaltation it deserves to be? For the sake of saving the fucking world, for the sake of Taliar's love and Maitimo's happiness, and only if it doesn't happen again, of course, he knows he can't push his soul that far, but—

The response is clear: if Taliar was good enough, if he was really as smart and clever and kind and insightful and determined as he wants to be, he could find a way to persuade or inspire Maitimo to change that wouldn't hurt him and wouldn't violate his autonomy, that would instead actively improve his life and increase his happiness and fulfillment and bring him closer to his own ideals; he could find a way, and make it happen, and leave everyone involved better off for it. And if he wants his crashing tide of exaltation, that's what he'd better do.

Taliar has no idea how to even begin to do that; it seems to him like violation of autonomy is kind of inherent in any dedicated attempt to persuade someone to change themselves in ways they don't want, and the fact that he doesn't want to do that to Maitimo is exactly why he hasn't been trying. But he knows perfectly well that 'that's impossible' is not an argument his soul will ever accept.

"Holding myself to stupidly high standards is a pain," he mutters to himself. Barring yesterday's 'love you forever', it's the first time he's spoken Nuimena in weeks. Then he sighs, and hugs his soul against his chest. "But it's who I am, and that's what got me this far. Okay. Long way around it is."

Trying was still a good idea. It didn't get him all the way there, but the golden spark at the heart of his soul has grown a little bigger again in the course of the attempt. Putting in the effort to argue his soul into doing what he wanted, despite the near-impossibility of success, was itself an exalting thing to do.

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Would have been nice. Well, get yourself to work on all that delightful magical engineering, that should be soul-exalting - we'll get there -

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Yeah. We will. Love you.

And he can work on magical engineering without having to be around too many people, which is something he's nervous about - he knows in his head that the cultural context is different here, but at home if Dawn-shining Taliar appeared in public with his soul ground down to a spark, everyone who saw it would immediately be at minimum very concerned, some of them would be terrified for the future of the empire, it would turn into a huge thing.

Some contact with people is going to be unavoidable, though, so he gives it a few seconds' thought and decides that if anyone asks after the state of his soul he'll say that he doesn't want to talk about it (so very true), the homesickness finally caught up with him (true after he spends a few minutes contemplating all the people he deeply painfully misses), but he is confident that he and his soul are going to be fine (perfectly true).

This is enough of a game plan to make him willing to at least get dressed and get out of bed and go make magical objects. He's a little worried that he might've lost the ability to speed-imprint the instruction sets, but while it's slowed down noticeably, a year's work in three hours is not really that much worse than a year's work in one. And he can feel it speeding up as his soul brightens.

In the afternoon, feeling very settled and content and accomplished and back-on-track, he takes a break and goes looking for Findekano.

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He wrote Irissë and Turukáno letters. He had some books brought in to read. He hasn't done anything else. When notified that Taliar is looking for him he says of course he'd be delighted to see him.

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"Hi," he says. "I have this absolutely stupid urge to apologize for stealing your boyfriend—how much have you heard about yesterday—?"

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"Nothing? People don't gossip about the King's private life - are you all right -"

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"Yes," he says. "I am okay, and I am going to continue being okay. I came to tell you that. I can explain why if you don't believe me, but it's kind of a long story. A lot happened."

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"Maitimo's probably watching through your eyes right now."

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"Oh - yeah, probably," he says. "I can't keep private thoughts from him. Do you want me to go away, given that?"

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"No, it's fine. I'm glad you're okay. Can't?"

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"That would be one of the many things that happened yesterday. It's - I don't choose what powers my soul gives me, or how they work; I get the things that are appropriate to the situation at hand, that are correct for me to have. And in order for any part of this entire situation to work, I need Maitimo not to be afraid of me, so now my soul's version of osanwe just has a Maitimo-shaped privacy exception."

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"Nothing about this situation would be improved by you being more afraid of him, either." But wow are you being efficiently manipulated, he doesn't add.

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"I'm not sure I follow...?"

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"You're here. You're happy. I don't think it'd be a good idea to disillusion you, because Maitimo won't get better if you trust him less."

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"I am in no danger of trusting Maitimo less," he says. "It wouldn't help so I won't do it. I'm... this is a talent I have, becoming the thing people need from me without becoming any less myself in the process. Maitimo might be helping, but probably much less than you'd expect, a lot of yesterday's happenings genuinely surprised him."

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"How old are you, Taliar?"

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"Seventeen, why do you ask?"

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"Because Maitimo does a very convincing act of caring about people for as long as that happens to be the best way to get what he wants, and I was a hell of a lot more experienced than you and I didn't see through it -"

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