#like i still think about them. when mithrun SMILED almost. at kabru at the end. and followed him bc kabru had a desire and mithrun

[desdemonafictional]

Post canon WIP (Scene 1)

“I’ve been thinking,” Kabru said.

Annoyingly, Laios did not look up from the encyclopedia he was flipping through. He’d had a wistful, almost pained expression on his face for the last several minutes as he paged through the book that Mithrun had leant them. It was a detailed record of monsters known in the west, their appearances and habits and weaknesses, aimed at an audience of future Canaries destined for the dungeons of the outside world.

At first Laios had been thrilled, commenting constantly on this fact or that fact, and the quality of illustrations, and points where he happened to know the encyclopedia had gotten something wrong. But bit by bit, he’d gone quiet. And now he simply sat there, with that look on his face, as if the book hurt him to touch.

Kabru sat down on the edge of the table and placed his finger over the page.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said again.

Laios looked up.

“I know this life isn’t the one you wanted,” Kabru said. “We’re all grateful… I’m especially grateful, for what you’ve done. And I know… how it is with desires, I’ve seen what it costs to give up a part of yourself. But I’ve said this to someone else before—maybe the thing you used to want is beyond you now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have new desires. New interests.”

Laios gave him a tired look. “You’re talking about my curse,” he said. “Kabru, it’s fine. I’ve made peace with it. At the end of the day, there’s still books and things.” He gestured at the encyclopedia, as if it hadn’t just been making him miserable. “Just because I can’t see monsters up close anymore doesn’t mean I want to forget about them.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Kabru said. “I meant—without giving up on monsters, you can have other, different things as well, right?”

He slid the book aside, carefully marking the page before closing it.

“Let me teach you about people,” Kabru said. “People are really interesting! A human bite is functionally poisonous, and humans are actually very difficult to kill despite having no natural weapons—the things a human can do, not just dwarves and elves but tallmen too, and halflings—we’re amazing animals, incredibly adaptable, physiologically and mentally.”

“I don’t know,” Laios said, “humans are…”

Kabru considered him for a moment, appraising his uneasy, twisted expression. There were bits he’d learned about Laios, here and there, that suggested a story that Kabru had never dared ask directly about.

“Let me guess,” Kabru said, “and tell me if I’m wrong. Humans are something other to you, right? Something irrational. Alien. Humans took your childhood and destroyed it. Humans drove you from your home, hurt the people you loved. The harm came out of nowhere, without explanation, and you were powerless against it. You lived in fear of them, and even now, in some ways, you’re still afraid. Deep down, you find the idea of them revolting.”

Laios’s face was white. His fingers clenched in the fabric of his trousers, bloodless.

“Am I making the comparison clear enough?” Kabru asked.

“I don’t…” Laios said. “You’re not revolting to me.”

As much as he’d like to say otherwise, some small part of Kabru was relieved to hear it. Laios had said he liked him, had called him a friend, but Laios was so difficult to understand sometimes. And Kabru worried. He had always worried, ever since he met Laios.

“Thanks,” Kabru said, making light of it. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Laios didn’t smile. “The Winged Lion said some similar things to me,” he admitted. “And it’s true, there have been times in my life when I hated humans, when I wished for—um. Things that would probably scare you. But I also… know that I can’t ever really give up on being a human. Not just because of the curse…”

Laios ran his fingers through the downy feathers at the neck of his cloak, as if he was soothing himself.

“When I was a kid, I wanted to stop being human so badly it hurt. But when I was transformed, all I did was kill—I didn’t recognize anyone, not even the people I wanted to save most in the world. What I really wanted, all along, was to have it both ways. To be a monster, and also be myself.”

Taking a chance, Kabru reached out and took Laios’s hand. Broad and narrow, pale and dark, but they had the same callouses. He gave a squeeze.

“If you look at it the right way, I think you can have it both ways,” Kabru said. “Sort of.”

Laios frowned up at him.

“Let’s think about humans as a kind of monster,” Kabru went on. “What are their habits? Their strengths? What drives them, what makes them act like they do? I’ll teach you. Like I said, it’s really very interesting. Humans are driven by instinct as much as any other animal. They have predictable behaviors, once you understand the mechanisms.”

He squeezed again and then let go.

“Hunger, attraction, territoriality—We like to think we’re different than other creatures, but we’re really not,” Kabru said. “We’re just a bit more complicated, because of language.”

He opened the encyclopedia back up and paged through until he found the direwolf Laios had been chattering about earlier. “You said direwolves have a social family structure, just like humans. And just like humans, they can have abusive family dynamics, right? If the lead female bullies the younger females, the younger ones might rise up and kick her out of the pack, isn’t that what you said? So then, sometimes they don’t rise up. Why only sometimes?”

Laios blinked at Kabru’s finger. “You were listening to that?”

“I told you,” Kabru said. “I want to understand. When I watch you, I believe that there must still be some value in monsters. If you see something beautiful in them, then there must be something beautiful in them.”

He considered the illustration for a long moment, each tuft of fur with its own graceful motion, the detail rendered so closely, with such care of knife against block print.

“Things that are frightening can also be beautiful, don’t you think?”