[ Why is talking so hard? Why is saying anything hard? She does not want to hurt Dedue more than she already has, so she tries to choose her words wisely. ]
You know how long I lived alone. I simply… Do not know how. To not be alone.
[He looks down at his hands, looks at his wounds, looks at the vials of potions she's given him. What is he supposed to make of all this? Kind gifts (obligatory?), having parts of his arm ripped out by her teeth, an insistence on being alone? Are they friends? Are they more? Does she want him to leave her be?]
Apologies. I am confused. I do not know what it is you want from me. Should I leave you alone?
[ She is making a mess of things. All she wants is to sit with him again and feel that soft contentment, but it’s hard to find the right words, especially after everything she’s done. She feels awful. ]
I like being with you. Around you. I do not want to be alone if you are an option.
Do not worry about that. I can handle a little pain. I'm all right, Lauralae.
[He tries to reassure her. She sees him as a person; she respects him. She builds him up. That is what matters to him. For that, he will gladly endure a little biting.]
You think your soul will cause you less trouble now?
Just because you are able does not mean you should have to.
[ Lauralae's expression tightens, just a little, in her displeasure at the notion of his pain, before she turns her attention to his question. Strangely, her new soul is easier to think about. ]
... It feels settled, now. As though we are bonded, in some way. I understand more of its desires.
[This is becoming circular, especially as he does not see the flaw in his logic that it's fine for him to endure pain for the benefit of someone else.]
That is good. I am not sure what my soul desires... Other than to be given tasks and purpose, and to obey.
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[He isn't sure what that means.]
Of your people?
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[ Why is talking so hard? Why is saying anything hard? She does not want to hurt Dedue more than she already has, so she tries to choose her words wisely. ]
You know how long I lived alone. I simply… Do not know how. To not be alone.
no subject
[He looks down at his hands, looks at his wounds, looks at the vials of potions she's given him. What is he supposed to make of all this? Kind gifts (obligatory?), having parts of his arm ripped out by her teeth, an insistence on being alone? Are they friends? Are they more? Does she want him to leave her be?]
Apologies. I am confused. I do not know what it is you want from me. Should I leave you alone?
no subject
[ She is making a mess of things. All she wants is to sit with him again and feel that soft contentment, but it’s hard to find the right words, especially after everything she’s done. She feels awful. ]
I like being with you. Around you. I do not want to be alone if you are an option.
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Well, I am always an option. Please, do call on me when you need help.
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[ Her voice remains soft, and gentle, until she finally looks over at him again. It's clearly difficult for her. ]
I have no desire to cause you any further pain.
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[He tries to reassure her. She sees him as a person; she respects him. She builds him up. That is what matters to him. For that, he will gladly endure a little biting.]
You think your soul will cause you less trouble now?
no subject
[ Lauralae's expression tightens, just a little, in her displeasure at the notion of his pain, before she turns her attention to his question. Strangely, her new soul is easier to think about. ]
... It feels settled, now. As though we are bonded, in some way. I understand more of its desires.
no subject
[This is becoming circular, especially as he does not see the flaw in his logic that it's fine for him to endure pain for the benefit of someone else.]
That is good. I am not sure what my soul desires... Other than to be given tasks and purpose, and to obey.
[Whoops. That's illuminating, isn't it?]
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I hope you find joy in more than that, Dedue.
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[He nods. He finds joy in cooking, gardening, fishing, and all his friends here.]
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[ She shifts, looking uncomfortably awkward. ]
I hope you liked your gift. I did not recognise the season.
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[He looks back at the items.]
I do. A generous and thoughtful apology gift. How long do the protection potions typically last?
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[ Eighty years of isolation and all... ]
You can keep them for many weeks, and when used it should last a handful of days.