If he's not careful, he'll think of Mandrake, his breach-brother who never pretended it was anything else, and burn Edwin with a mix of caustic old self-recrimination and jealousy. It's, profoundly, not about him.
It would be too easy, too, to think more deeply of Dhanneth, who Jedao loved so feverishly, and lost so emphatically. It's so tempting to tongue the wound of him like a child who's lost a tooth, to taste the sluggish blood and feel the tender spot. Jedao knows exactly how shattering it is, to believe in someone's love and then feel it wrenched viciously away, replaced with the truth of hatred.
It won't happen to Edwin, not from Jedao, but dwelling on the agonizing truth of that fear made manifest, or even drawing attention to the fear at all, won't do any good. So Jedao keeps his own heartaches firmly packed away.
"I'm so glad you have him," Jedao murmurs, dwelling in that emotion instead: the rose-gold dawn-chorus sweetness of his affection for John, the unexpected delight of finding someone who understands so many things about him, who is so earnest and kind and forthright. It's a bright, pure thing, but not half as powerful as the heavy, chest-churning purr of his love for Edwin. And the joy of it is pure gratitude, flowing like a clear mountain stream. For both of them to have someone else who understands, who is like them -
(Revenant never promised to love him. Jedao pushes away missing it. Revenant hated him too, in the end.)
no subject
It would be too easy, too, to think more deeply of Dhanneth, who Jedao loved so feverishly, and lost so emphatically. It's so tempting to tongue the wound of him like a child who's lost a tooth, to taste the sluggish blood and feel the tender spot. Jedao knows exactly how shattering it is, to believe in someone's love and then feel it wrenched viciously away, replaced with the truth of hatred.
It won't happen to Edwin, not from Jedao, but dwelling on the agonizing truth of that fear made manifest, or even drawing attention to the fear at all, won't do any good. So Jedao keeps his own heartaches firmly packed away.
"I'm so glad you have him," Jedao murmurs, dwelling in that emotion instead: the rose-gold dawn-chorus sweetness of his affection for John, the unexpected delight of finding someone who understands so many things about him, who is so earnest and kind and forthright. It's a bright, pure thing, but not half as powerful as the heavy, chest-churning purr of his love for Edwin. And the joy of it is pure gratitude, flowing like a clear mountain stream. For both of them to have someone else who understands, who is like them -
(Revenant never promised to love him. Jedao pushes away missing it. Revenant hated him too, in the end.)