And blob stays quiet this time, because he might never be able to out-lie Jedao, but he has at least learned the obvious lesson that people can't know what you don't say.
Telling wouldn't change anything except maybe for making things harder on him, and then it would be my fault.
Jedao is, unfortunately, quite good at learning things people don't say, but is at least not going to call him on it. It's usually a good lesson.
I disagree on every point, Jedao tells him mildly, but utterly certain.
Feeling isolated and alone is terrible. It makes every other problem worse. Even if I can't help - and maybe I can - being understood is good for people.
He bops Edwin very lightly, with one finger, about where his nose ought to be.
And it's good for you too, Mr. Buck, since you're a person too.
So there.
And if I did make things harder for this person, explicitly against your wishes, that would be my fault, for being cruel and inconsiderate and an overprotective busybody. Whereas I like to think I am exactly the right level of busybody.
He gives Edwin another little kiss on the top of his head.
Is it that you don't trust me to respect your choices, or that you don't think I can control myself if I know?
Which is a slightly mean way to phrase it, but also, Edwin isn't trusting him, so he's going to get needled just a bit about the implications.
He unfolds into cat all at once, an actual cat, though one that seems to have celestial patterns under its skin, giving the occasional shimmer through his fur.
If you really don't want me to know, Jedao says softly, immediately scritching behind Edwin's ears, Or if you promised someone to keep their secrets, I'll stop asking.
But you don't owe it to anyone else not to confide your own troubles to the people who love you. Not ever. My love for you is for you. And that also means we get to decide what that looks like together.
His ears flick back and forward again as he tries to figure out why he doesn't want to say, why it's so hard. Guilt settles in his chest at the idea of getting Charlie in trouble, and resentment promptly comes to chase guilt's tail.
...Charlie. He saw me playing with Faroe and... was... concerned.
It's a strange relief to hear that. For Jedao to say it so easily. He'd felt so stupid and useless, reciting poetry and rubbing her back while she sobbed and sobbed.
He turns to curl up on Jedao's lap again.
I told John I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't tell Arthur anything. I don't want-- I don't want anyone who likes Charlie to tell me why it's okay.
He's scared that they might, more accurately. He's afraid that something that hurts him that much could be called understandable, or that he has to put Charlie's feelings first because he was hurt more, by someone that Edwin doesn't remember being. That his brother doesn't want him to remember being. But he still has to feel bad about what that past god did, can't forget what he was born from, even though The King in Yellow feels more and more like a father he never even met.
This time when he changes shape, it's into a younger boy, the kid he was in the breach that made them family. He smushes his face against Jedao and clings to him around the waist.
"I don't know why it made me feel like this, and I don't know why it won't go away."
Oh. My baby, Jedao says softly, and the wave of loving tenderness that rolls through him aches all through his chest, in his throat, in his fingertips.
My sweet boy. He clings back, rocks slightly backward and forward.
Sometimes, it's harder to deal with things that caught us by surprise. And it's hardest to ease pain when we try to...deny ourselves the right to feel it. It's not okay, that he startled you and made her cry, that he ruined a good time you were having with someone who didn't know anything about the King at all, who only saw you, and just liked who she saw.
It can be awful and unfair that he did that to you, without...without needing to count or compare anything or punish anyone.
And it always feels awful to be treated like a monster when you've been trying very hard to be trustworthy, no matter what anyone's reasons are, and worse when you can't even...when you don't have an avenue to defend yourself. I'm so sorry, Edwin.
That's it. That's what it is, it's that Faroe-- she met Edwin. She only knew him. And then Charlie spoiled the first time he got to be someone without a violent shadow. He clings harder, crying again, quietly this time.
I really have been trying to be-- to be nice to him, to be respectful a-and-- I know... I know I was the same with Arthur when I came but we could talk, we would talk, and it got... better. Arthur and John keep saying he doesn't have to forgive me, and I know he doesn't have to forgive me, but he doesn't-- I don't-- He won't talk to me, he won't listen to me, I try to stay away from him and he attacks me. But I can't talk to him like Arthur did for me, either. I don't know what to do.
He can't forgive you, because you aren't the person who hurt him, Jedao says firmly.
Not really. You know it. And he's not letting himself know it, and just because that's probably fucking with him even worse than it's fucking with you, that doesn't make it any better.
Jedao strokes his hand through Edwin's hair.
You've done exactly right. It's not yours to fix, Sunshine. I'm going to talk to him, okay?
When Jedao says he can't forgive you, Edwin starts to tense.
But then the rest of it comes out.
Because you aren't the person who hurt him.
Edwin gives a tiny little gasp, the sound like an inhalation after held breath. Tension drops out of him all at once, and-- yeah he's just going to cry really hard for a little bit.
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Normally things spill out of him easier than this.
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Telling wouldn't change anything except maybe for making things harder on him, and then it would be my fault.
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I disagree on every point, Jedao tells him mildly, but utterly certain.
Feeling isolated and alone is terrible. It makes every other problem worse. Even if I can't help - and maybe I can - being understood is good for people.
He bops Edwin very lightly, with one finger, about where his nose ought to be.
And it's good for you too, Mr. Buck, since you're a person too.
So there.
And if I did make things harder for this person, explicitly against your wishes, that would be my fault, for being cruel and inconsiderate and an overprotective busybody. Whereas I like to think I am exactly the right level of busybody.
He gives Edwin another little kiss on the top of his head.
Is it that you don't trust me to respect your choices, or that you don't think I can control myself if I know?
Which is a slightly mean way to phrase it, but also, Edwin isn't trusting him, so he's going to get needled just a bit about the implications.
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That's not-- No, I don't think that at all.
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But you don't owe it to anyone else not to confide your own troubles to the people who love you. Not ever. My love for you is for you. And that also means we get to decide what that looks like together.
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...Charlie. He saw me playing with Faroe and... was... concerned.
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It sounds like you were having a nice time and then things got really messy and upsetting. What happened?
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She was telling me what she liked about the barge and I turned into a fox for her and he tackled me.
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He turns to curl up on Jedao's lap again.
I told John I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't tell Arthur anything. I don't want-- I don't want anyone who likes Charlie to tell me why it's okay.
He's scared that they might, more accurately. He's afraid that something that hurts him that much could be called understandable, or that he has to put Charlie's feelings first because he was hurt more, by someone that Edwin doesn't remember being. That his brother doesn't want him to remember being. But he still has to feel bad about what that past god did, can't forget what he was born from, even though The King in Yellow feels more and more like a father he never even met.
This time when he changes shape, it's into a younger boy, the kid he was in the breach that made them family. He smushes his face against Jedao and clings to him around the waist.
"I don't know why it made me feel like this, and I don't know why it won't go away."
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My sweet boy. He clings back, rocks slightly backward and forward.
Sometimes, it's harder to deal with things that caught us by surprise. And it's hardest to ease pain when we try to...deny ourselves the right to feel it. It's not okay, that he startled you and made her cry, that he ruined a good time you were having with someone who didn't know anything about the King at all, who only saw you, and just liked who she saw.
It can be awful and unfair that he did that to you, without...without needing to count or compare anything or punish anyone.
And it always feels awful to be treated like a monster when you've been trying very hard to be trustworthy, no matter what anyone's reasons are, and worse when you can't even...when you don't have an avenue to defend yourself. I'm so sorry, Edwin.
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I really have been trying to be-- to be nice to him, to be respectful a-and-- I know... I know I was the same with Arthur when I came but we could talk, we would talk, and it got... better. Arthur and John keep saying he doesn't have to forgive me, and I know he doesn't have to forgive me, but he doesn't-- I don't-- He won't talk to me, he won't listen to me, I try to stay away from him and he attacks me. But I can't talk to him like Arthur did for me, either. I don't know what to do.
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Not really. You know it. And he's not letting himself know it, and just because that's probably fucking with him even worse than it's fucking with you, that doesn't make it any better.
Jedao strokes his hand through Edwin's hair.
You've done exactly right. It's not yours to fix, Sunshine. I'm going to talk to him, okay?
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But then the rest of it comes out.
Because you aren't the person who hurt him.
Edwin gives a tiny little gasp, the sound like an inhalation after held breath. Tension drops out of him all at once, and-- yeah he's just going to cry really hard for a little bit.
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