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She would be happy he finally chose to return her embrace, were it not for the sobs and cries that follow. She keeps one arm tight around him, the other raised to tangle her fingers into his hair and gently knead against his scalp.

"Shhh." She coos, closing her eyes, head tilted back to gently press her lips to his temple. "It is alright, Max. You will be alright. I promise." Then, she just...let's him cry, comforting him with soft murmurs and pets against his head.

Eventually, he cries himself out and quiets against her. Self-loathing solidifies in the pit of his stomach like a heavy stone. Would he ever manage not to become a sobbing mess at the first sign of conflict? He doesn't mean to be like this. He wishes so desperately to be anything else.

"Thank you," he croaks. "I'm really. I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry."

At some point her fingers graze against the back of his neck, where that brand she spotted weeks ago rests. She had a lot of assumptions, never asked for fear of sparking some memory he did not care to recall, but so many things made sense now when she thought about it.

She does not linger there for long though; only a split second before she returns to soothing him until he's finished crying. "It is fine, Max. No more apologies." She kisses his temple again. "Tell me what you wish of me. What will make you feel better after all of this?"

He jerks as if he's been burned when her fingers graze that mark, though it hasn't hurt him. And moments later, he knows there won't be anything in the world he can do to keep her from noticing it.

"I don't want anything from you except what you've always been. I want to be your friend and sometimes your lover. I don't want to have ruined that. I don't want you to...think worse of me because of this." He puts his own hand lightly to the scar on his neck.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this sooner." One more apology? Oops.

"That will never change. Not unless you wish it to." She says, letting her hand drop to rest idly on his chest, glancing to where he sets his own.

"I already knew of it." She admits. "I had seen it when you wished for me to aid you in your work out, but I had presumed you did not care to speak of it - so I did not bring it up. Is it...is it from your master?"

He presses his lips together, trying to keep himself from frowning so deeply. She'd seen it. He really should learn to put a bandaid over it or something...

"Yes. It's his coat of arms. That's how people, well, other vampires, know not to touch me. Because I'm his." His property. His to protect and keep.

She hates that she was right, and her gut roils uneasily; a taste of bile in her throat. Her fingers curl against his chest, and if he was wearing a shirt she would be clutching it tight.

"And yet he allows them to drink from you without issue? You spoke as if it was common, as if...he was not the only one that did it. Or am I assuming too much?"

He clutches her hand to him. It hurts to see her like this. See, this is why he hates telling people.

"He's a powerful lord. He has other vampire lords who visit him frequently for business. And I..." He swallows thickly, "I'm in charge of... entertaining them. Part of my Master's...hospitality."

"Oh, Max." She says softly, voice barely above a whisper. She cannot lean into him anymore than she is already - but rest assured, if she could she absolutely would right now.

"I did not know." Obviously. "I am truly sorry you had to suffer such a thing - a man as kind and gentle as you are. But it is good, is it not...that here you are free of him?"

"It wasn't all bad," he says, barely above a whisper. "I don't... I don't hate him. I know maybe I should but... he protected me. He took care of me." And, especially at moments like this, he misses having someone to tell him how to act, what to do.

"I am happier here. Don't get me wrong. I'm much happier here. I just... it wasn't torture every single day. Not like..." not like it was for Astarion. He takes another hitching breath, reminded once more of his own hypocrisy.

He was too kind, like so many claimed her to be. And she would be lying if she thought, should she have been the one in such a situation, she might not have thought the same way. So she can't blame him for his response; the defense of his master, but she sure doesn't have to like it either.

"Perhaps not, but you still did not deserve it. No one has the right to rule another, to force them to do things they should not. You have suffered, Max, but you are not weak or helpless, and you are most certainly not alone. Do not think you have to suffer by yourself, if you must suffer at all."

She sighs. "But...your response earlier makes sense now." A lot of sense.

He shudders. A storm of conflicting emotions whirl in his chest. "According to vampire law, he did have the right. And I had no choice."

Max is not sure he agrees with her. He feels pretty helpless most days. He fakes confidence like a pro, but that's all it is. Smoke and mirrors.

"I don't have to like it, but it's the truth. I just... I'm trying to change Lioriley. But I don't know how."

Edited Date: 2020-12-06 09:36 pm (UTC)

"Vampire law." She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "What vile abuse of such things to force those weaker than them to conform to their will. There are surely means around it." She knows from experience - there are always loopholes. A shame she could not try and find one here.

She tries, trying to calm her annoyance of so called laws of immortals and the bind that Max was apparently in, if only for his sake. "It will take time, but I am here to help you - whatever you need me to do, any advice you seek...you can come to me."

"There's more to it than that. I mean..." He huffs. "Lioriley. I literally don't have a choice. Because if I leave my Master, I'll be killed. Not by him, but by his enemies. He's the only thing standing between me and terrible, gruesome death. I have to do what he says if I want to keep on living."

That's why the loopholes won't apply. The doors aren't locked. Max could leave. He could walk out those doors any time. But he wouldn't last a day on his own. Erik is the only one who can save him.

Max cuddles into her a little closer, trying to convey his gratitude where words fail. "I'll... try to remember that. I'm not... I'm still not good at this. But I'll try."

"Why?" She asks a simple question she suspects has a complicated answer. "What could you have done to invoke the ire if such powerful creatures? Is it because of your master, or because of something you have done?"

"I killed his sister," Max admits darkly. "His twin sister."

He realizes that's going to take more explanation now, too, but he has to take a moment to steel himself for this story. Seeing the ghost of that very woman when he lowered his mask at the Halloween party had shaken him badly. And now the pain is fresh all over again.

"I was at a party. She came up and started flirting with me. She lured me to the basement. She started to feed on me, and I don't think she would have stopped until I was dead. But I had a torch in my backpack. I used it on her. I burned her and then I killed her.

"I didn't mean to I was just... so scared. But, then, my Master came. He saw what I had done. He said, by rights, he should kill me. That if he didn't, her allies would. They would never rest until they got their revenge. The only thing he could do was claim me. Then they wouldn't be able to touch me."

Holy shit.

Logically, his story is clearly one of self-defense - if he hadn't defended himself he would have died right there on that basement floor. But the alternative he faced was, perhaps, far worse. He was alive and forced under the thumb of a vampire that claimed to protect him, and yet allowed so many other vampires to feed and use him as they pleased. It didn't sit well with her at all for a great many reasons, but what could she do about it? Scolding him was just cruel - it wasn't his fault. but the helplessness she felt in this moment was palpable. Immeasurable.

"You did what you had to do to survive. That is admirable, and a testament to your strength and bravery that many would not have been able to show in the face of such a plight. And I wish - I wish so desperately that I could help you. But all I can truly do is pray that you remain here - and that while you do, you come to learn of all the gifts you have been given, all of the people that care for you.

You are your own man here, Max. That may be overwhelming, and I understand, but you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. And I hope one day you see that. Because a man as kind and sweet and wonderful as you deserves every kindness in the world and so much more."

Tears are starting to sting in his eyes again but desperately tries to blink them back. So, he buries his face once more in her shoulder and holds her close.

"I-I..." he hiccups, "w-want to b-believe you're right. I just... I want to be strong. I d-don't feel strong. And I'm sorry. I g-got scared for you and I took it out on h-him. I shouldn't have done that. I really am sorry."

She wraps her arms around his neck, weaving her fingers into his hair and cooing softly in an attempt to soothe him, nose against his temple.

"I know, Max." She assures him. "You did nothing wrong. I know you were just trying to help and I cannot fault you for that - everything will be alright. I promise." She shifts back after a moment, trying to duck her head down to see his face, hands reaching up if he'll let her to brush the tears from his cheeks. "You are so precious to me, Max. And I do hate to see you like this - tell me what I can do to make you smile again."

He shakes his head in protest. No, it was wrong. He knows it was wrong. She can forgive him but he refuses to be excused.

"It was wrong. It was. I won't do it again." That's all he can do since he can't take it all back. But he swears, he won't meddle like this anymore.

"It's enough," he says, finally calming down at her soft touch to his hair, "It's enough that you don't hate me. I was scared maybe I fucked it all up too badly."

"Max..." Gods, it's like he hasn't listened to a single thing she's said to him. But she won't argue with him while he's so emotional - there's no point. Maybe they can sit down and discuss it later when the wound is not so fresh.

She frowns despite herself. "Do you truly believe I would hate you?" He must not know her well to even assume as much. "It will take a lot more than this to make me feel negatively toward you."

"No..." softly spoken, barely above a whisper. "No. I don't really think you would..." Astarion, maybe. But not her.

"Sorry, I'm such a mess. I should... I should just..." He tries to break away from her but she's still on his lap. "I'm so tired."

She loosens her grip only a little, hesitant to part from him since he is still very clearly distressed.

"...Would you like me to stay?" She asks, even if there are a thousand other things she would like to say instead. All things, she is certain, he would not care to answer or acknowledge in his current state of mind.

Would he like her to stay? Yes. Yes, he would. But he can't ask her to. He doesn't deserve that. She should be returning to Astarion. That's where she belongs.

"No..." he chokes on the word. "I should... sleep. Alone."

To say that 'no' hurt would be an understatement. The single word hit her like a fucking truck and then backed up over her for good measure. And it took everything in her to steel her expression, even if her leylines betrayed her by dimming faintly.

"Very well." She says, a plan already forming in her mind. She leaned in to kiss his forehead if he let her, then slowly slid off his lap to head for the door. "...Take care of yourself, Max. I...I will see you soon?" She hoped.

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