#velfly

Hands pinning him down, greater weight keeping everything but uncontrolled fire out of his hands. A spark of violence contained despite his thrashing. A voice, purring an echo to the one in his head. "Succumb."

A vaguely concerned elven woman, peering down at them like they were mere curiosities. All the actions slightly off (or was that him?), emotions never hitting anything but minor bumps. She didn't do extremes, her voice going from friendly to mild concern, positive emotions easier to fake, her excitement slightly more true. No fear of the one crazed above him.

Contrast:

Hands that only touched gently, teasing, friendly, backing off when he said. Telling him he was special. Apologizing. (But he'd already done what he'd wanted, hadn't he?)

Her, a bright echo, flirting with the first, following his lead. Exclaiming it all all done with. They were friends. Swept it under the rug.

Two sets of impressions, and he had found himself reacting in return - warming slightly. But the first was no less true than the second. He was no less the one that had wanted his submission to the darkness in them than the one that sidled up with a balm of offered words he hadn't realized he needed - wanted.

He didn't need anything anymore.

She was no less the one that had watched on, barely bothered, letting it flow around her as long as she got her "friendships" than the one offering kind words and a sense of safety.

Nothing and no one was safe.

Ah, but of course nothing could be that simple. If it had been he might still be planning subtle ways of getting rid of them, regardless of this second effort. He could trust that both were true and work to prevent the reappearances of the first.

Except -

How much of his perceptions were colored by what he was, the voices in his head?

He had thought he knew.

But which part of his mind had wanted to give in to the order? What part was relieved, what part was afraid? What part of him had agreed? Which part of him yearned for the friendly touches on offer and what part of him rejected them? What was due to trauma, what to personality, and what was the fault of insidious corruption in his veins?

Once, even when there had been a creature in his mind he had known. There had been a protection around the core of him. A last gift of Temeraith's (remembered love, crashed to dust) used up to get that thing out of his head.

How he regretted searching for knowledge, wanting to know everything about the Void so it could never happen again. If he had never joined with Umbric's people - this wouldn't be happening. The last vestiges of connection lost (Starsong), access to his sister's grave, Temeraith's, the Sunwell lost because he had sought knowledge.

And they asked him what he was angry about.

Those fools.

Everything.

But mostly.

Himself.