"Yeah. I should practice getting that on and off quickly, and mounting and dismounting quickly, and fighting beside her in general. And probably another dozen things I won't think of until it's too late."

"You will have opportunities to think of them," Moondance assures him. "This is not the first mission I intend to bring you on – your help was of great value, you know, even Starwind cannot raise a shield as strong as yours was." A crooked smile. "By the time you leave k'Treva, I expect you to be rather bored of such routine work." 

"I'm glad you don't regret bringing me along. I can't really imagine that sort of thing being routine." He can't exactly imagine leaving K'Treva, either, but that's more anxiety than lack of imagination. He knows he'll have to go back someday and face everyone who's there and the one person who isn't.

Moondance must notice the change in his expression. "Are you all right, Abras? You look troubled. If you are feeling guilty that I was slightly injured..." 

"That and . . . other stuff. I . . . kind of mope a lot."

"...Would you like a hug?" 

". . . yes."

(It is very stupid that Moondance is comforting him when he's not the one who got hurt.)

Moondance seems healed enough that he wiggles over and hugs Abras without wincing at all. He's pretty good at hugs. 

"You lost someone precious to you," he says, barely above a whisper. "It does you no discredit, that this saddens you. ...You could speak of if, if you wished, I am here to listen." 

Abras hugs back and thinks. Moondance is not the first person who's said he should talk about it. He should really talk about it. 

He is, observably, not talking about it. Every time he reaches for words he just gets emotions. And if he somehow managed to start talking he is pretty sure he would lose what little composure he has about five seconds in.

"I don't think I can. But. Thanks."

"I understand." Moondance seems unsurprised. "Such a thing is – well, if I were in your position, I do not think I could speak of it so soon. Just, I - think that I can understand, a little. Perhaps better than most." His voice is tight with some unnameable emotion. "I would be content just to stay here with you, for a time – of course, I am in your bed, and I would understand if you wish to have it back." 

"It's fine, I already slept. And I like your company."

"Is something troubling you? I--don't want to make you sad too."

"If your grief in this moment calls up echoes of my own past pain," Moondance says, "this is not exactly your fault. And I enjoy your company as well." 

". . . Do you want to talk about it? It's fine if you don't, it's your business, but if you want to talk I want to listen." Maybe if Moondance has experienced something similar he'll have some idea of how to move on after it, or at least how to cope with having it in the back of his head for the rest of his life.

Moondance goes very still. "Perhaps," he says finally. "I - have never - tried to speak of it before..." His voice is a bit shaky. 

Oh no, poor Moondance. Hug and patient quiet waiting.

Moondance takes some slow even breaths, like he's practicing a trance-exercise. When he speaks again, his voice is weirdly distant, almost without emotion at all. 

"There was a boy called Tallo. His parents were farmers. Tallo was different; they did not understand him. Tallo learned, when studying with the village priest, that he possessed mage-gift. He began attempting to teach himself, and spending much time alone. Tallo’s parents understood even less. There were arguments, anger on both sides. They wished him to marry, but he felt nothing for any of the girls they suggested." 

"Then, one summer, a troupe of gleemen came to Tallo's village. Among them was a very handsome young man, and Tallo learned he was not the only young man in the world who felt yearnings toward his own sex. They became lovers. Tallo planned to run away and join the troupe when they left the village, but they were caught first. And as such a thing as shay’a’chern was forbidden even to speak of, his parents, the priest, the entire village came together to beat Tallo and his lover, and cast them out." 

Moondance doesn't seem to be done, yet, but pauses for a few more steadying breaths. 

That's awful. Abras remembers hiding his relationship with Tylendel, and they at least had had a couple other people they could trust, people who would protect them (not that it turned out to be enough, but not because of that). He pulls himself back to the present, not sure if the burning sensation in his eyes is for himself or Moondance or both, and tries to steady his own breathing as he keeps listening.

Moondance goes on, still speaking tonelessly. "Then Tallo's lover, in hurt, pushed Tallo away and claimed to want nothing of him, though he did not truly mean it. Tallo called the lightning with his half-learned magic. He–" Moondance's breath catches, "he - did not mean - to do more than frighten him. But - that is not what happened. He - lacked the skill - to control it, and so he watched - his lover die, screaming." 

Moondance puts his head down on Abras' shoulder, trembling. "Tallo could not live with his actions. He took his dead lover’s dagger and slashed his own wrist, believing that only his own death could atone for such a crime."

Abras puts a hand ever so tentatively on Moondance's hair. "I'm so sorry," he says in a hoarse whisper. (It could have been him, so easily, if nobody had been there when he had no control. He could have killed Mardic, or his father, and what Moondance went through was even worse. The idea of suicide he has less ability to understand, but it's clear that Moondance was in more pain than anyone could be expected to bear. To deal with that loss and that guilt and somehow eventually recover and keep trying to be a good person . . . he knew his friend was strong but hadn't known the half of it.)

Moondance leans into his touch, his shoulders shaking. He weeps almost without making a sound; the dampness of tears on Abras' shirt gives it away, though. After a minute or two, he regains his composure somewhat and keeps speaking. 

"Fortunately for Tallo," he says, "there was an outlander on the road nearby, a mage who sensed his out-of-control power and rode as fast as she could. Too late to save both, but she saved the boy she could, and brought him to an old friend in a nearby place, where she thought he might find healing. And so Tallo met Starwind, and - his story ends, and mine begins, here."

He pulls back a little, looks into Abras' eyes. "If this had not happened, there would be no Healing-Adept in k'Treva now. Starwind would not ever have found the soul-partner he needed. And so, good has come of this awful thing? But - still I wish - it had never happened to Tallo. I took a new name, when I came here. In a sense, Tallo did die on the road that day. But - a part of him is still here, and he still screams." 

Abras forces himself to meet Moondance's eyes. "I think. It's good to wish it hadn't happened. In a better world he'd be alive and you'd be with Starwind."

Moondance looks at him, and then his face crumples and he starts sobbing again. 

Oh no he said the wrong thing again. Back to silence and hugs.

Moondance gets himself under control to at least Mindspeak, if not speak out loud, within thirty seconds. :That was...a wise thing to say, Abras. I - am grateful - that you understand: 

: I'm--grateful you told me. I see why you said you understood--me.: