Possibly Carissa would have wanted her to talk to him, or something, but Leareth had no idea how to even start that conversation, so he's just spent the time going over notes and talking to Ma'ar and Urtho and occasionally pointing reassuring smiles in her approximate direction. And ignoring the fact that he keeps wanting to hug her. 

Mhalir takes a moment just to breathe, and then crosses the room to his Carissa, making it very clear from his body language that he's the one piloting. 

"Carissa," he says. "I - wanted you to know that." He swallows. "All the magic items are yours, now, legally. I should have done it that way from the start, but - in any case. If you decide you - would rather do something else..." A slight shrug. "You will not be destitute." 

"....am...I fired?"

"- What? No! Of course not - I am sorry - just - I..." He lifts both hands, helplessly, lets them fall again. "It would be deeply unfair to you to - take your body and use it to do something you think is morally horrific. I would not ask that of you. I - I care about you and I want to work with you forever in all of the worlds, but..." 

"But you want to destroy Hell more than that."

To other Carissa it is pretty obvious that she regrets it as soon as she says it, not quite because she doesn't mean it but because - destroying things feels less effortful than salvaging them -

Leareth winces very slightly; it's probably not noticeable to anyone except his Carissa. 

Mhalir has no idea what to say. For just a fraction of a second, he's genuinely angry, but as soon as he notices this fact it drains away, and there's only the weight. 

Is this what it feels like, he wonders, to have the deaths of three billion people forever over your head. Is this what it's going to be, forever, destroying one commons after another to deny resources to their enemies... 

"I want," he says dully, tiredly, "for Asmodeus to stop torturing people. I know we disagree on the matter of this being a bad thing. I think it is - an awful horror in the world - I think no mortal would choose that if they had full information... And I want it to stop. There - are prices I would be unwilling to pay, for it - and I am sure there are prices you would pay..." 

He sits down across from her again. "I want to be your ally. I want to - help you achieve your goals - I want that to be possible..." 

And he's not sure that it is possible, not from here. It feels like he can almost taste those unspoken words hanging in the air between them. 

"We could ask them.

The people. I mean. In Hell. We could ask them. If they wish they'd gone somewhere different. If they want to die so their children can't go to Hell too. If - if it'd really change your mind - if it's really just that you think they'd agree with you -"

"...It would be information." He looks into her eyes. "Not - enough, maybe. Because people grow toward what paths are open to them, even if they are awful ones, and I - do not really think that a devil a thousand years later is the same entity as the mortal who died and was tortured into that shape. And I am not sure we could, safely, not without giving Asmodeus warning. And - the fact that Leareth and Aroden also think this, with thousands of years to reflect, is information already. But - I am open to you proving me wrong." 

"Not - 

- not just proving you wrong. If it shouldn't exist, then it shouldn't exist, right. But - but I don't think you do know that."

"- Do you think that Aroden does not know it either?" 

"I see no reason to think he cares about the same things I do."

He nods slowly, heavily. "And you do not see why he would have any reason to listen to you. But - you believe that I do?" 

"We could at least argue about it."

"I think that makes sense. And would be a good idea. In - a little while." He shakes his - well, the other Carissa's - head, with a faintly rueful expression. "If we try to argue it now I am just going to cry again." 

"Okay."

...Mhalir isn't sure if that went well or badly or something else in some orthogonal direction, but he relinquishes control of Carissa's body, lets himself drift again. 

Leareth has been paying rather a lot of attention to the exchange, trying to be discreet about it. 

:- I like her: he sends to his Carissa, once it seems that they're done talking. :I suppose that will surprise no one: 

:I guess you are welcome to look at other women if they are literally me. 

- I get the sense she did more of - figuring out not being an Asmodean - herself? And she's unhappier and I wouldn't trade her but it feels like she learned some interesting things from it.:

:Yes, I think so: 

He wants to ask if she thinks that Mhalir and his Carissa will be all right, except that Mhalir will overhear it and so it seems rude - he's not used to not being able to have a private conversation with his own wife even when she's right there... 

:I love you: he says instead, and sits down again. 

The Void-ship waits until Mhalir's ship makes the jump to hyperspace, which is very visible to their wards, and for Ma'ar to communicate with them the initial directions, and then they head out. 

She spends the trip back studying the goggles of true seeing, which are the most expensive magic item she's ever seen. 

She's not sure what she's supposed to do with herself. Leareth periodically glances at her and it's sort of terrifying. Mhalir is - gods, Mhalir's probably really upset still, and he's trying so hard to be nicer to her, she sort of wishes instead of being around insane people she was around normal people who'd just hurt her very badly for a long time until she wasn't tempted to be difficult anymore...

Leareth takes notes and occasionally has Mindspeech conversations with his wife and - it feels like - a very very long time passes. 

And eventually, just under a day later, the Void-ship stops. 

He's been trying to think. He isn't sure if he's made all that much progress. 

Mhalir glances over in Carissa's direction.