Sold my soul to the calling, sold my soul to a sweet melody

[darlingdatura]

Mikh'tan had no idea if Loki could hear him. On the Source it was simple enough. On the First, on this other world, he didn't know. It just made him feel so incredibly lonely, though his habit didn't change. He still lit his candle, still spoke as though the god could hear. Left his offerings. Loki was never predictable. He had other things to do surely than hang on the words of one single follower. He just had to trust that his words reached the god. It was all he felt he had as things spun further and further out of control. As the lines between right and wrong blurred even more.

It wasn't unlike back on the Source at the base of the problem. Powerful creatures terrorizing the populace wreaking destruction. But here it was more desperate in a way- the world was already nearly entirely flooded with Light, almost entirely absorbed by Order and Stasis which was warping and creating the horrible creatures they were fighting, the creatures that used to be people before the Light warped them beyond recognition.

He wondered if it would happen to him too in the end. Every one of the Lightwardens he destroyed restored balance to the area it had staked out, allowed the return of night, lessened the hold of the Light, but he could feel the excess aether, white-hot and bitterly cold as it seeped through his soul, and like a vine climbing a wall, the roots drove deep, to the point where he could almost swear that each pulse of the aether let him feel the cracks starting to spread. It was something he could almost ignore when he had other things to worry about, distracted by the fight, by helping others, by the million and one things that took up his day.

But night fell leaving him alone and he felt the pulse of Light almost like an infection in his veins, tasted the cold burn of the aether on back of his tongue as his vision whited out briefly. Unable to help the soft little keen of distress, ears pinned against his hair as he tried to focus enough to press past the pain and swim of vertigo. It would pass as it always did, as it had to. He had to be okay. He couldn't afford to be consumed, not knowing what would happen.

He'd feel more confident about his chances if he could keep his hands from quaking long enough to light the candle for that evening's prayers, but such was life.

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[darlingdatura]

Luckily for Loki, Feo Ul's affection runs deep enough that there wouldn't be some awful favor owed. Not that she would admit as much, as the entertainment of watching the god twist over the idea later would be counted as part of whatever favor she eventually demanded. She'd gotten him there safely, with a promise of safe passage back later, and for now returned to the castle, leaving Loki to find his way to the place Mikh'tan was staying.

The Miqo'te hadn't been expecting company, and it took a few moments to process the sight and feel of the familiar fingers grasping his, a tremor working through him as he peered up to meet Loki's gaze. And while it wasn't the main trouble, he certainly looked exhausted with the dark circles under his eyes. The real source of that deterioration hinted at in the strange streaks of white and gold in his hair, the gold creeping across the iris of his left eye like a strange sort of frost across blue. He practically reeked of aetheric imbalance, of Light.

And if Loki was hoping for rational conversation out of him, he'd have to wait a moment- as rattled as Mikh'tan was, as absolutely bone-deep exhausted and hurting and terrified as he was, he didn't have nearly as good a grasp on his usual brave face, and that kind, reassuring tone was enough to have him just fling himself against Loki with a ragged sob as the tears he hadn't allowed himself all this time started to fall.

[coldsong]

There is something so terribly wrong about seeing him like this. Loki can feel it in an instant, the searing imbalance, the fear and pain it's causing. And he is far more aligned with chaos and darkness; there is an instinctive prickling all up and down his spine as he sees how far Mikh'tan has drifted from him.

It says something about their bond that he doesn't flinch.

The collapse into his arms isn't reassuring in the least. It's not Mikh'tan's usual behavior, by a long shot. Still, there is something satisfying about being desired and depended on, even when the situation is this uncomfortable. He gathers him close without hesitation, embracing him tightly and, after a moment, pulling him into his lap.

"I'm here," he murmurs, stroking his hair. It's all he can promise with any certainty. He can't fix this, but he's here.

[darlingdatura]

It was something of a relief that Loki didn't recoil- it had been a fear of Mikh'tan once he realized what was happening that there would be a point that he would be rejected, or worse that the sheer amount of Light he was forced to absorb in the process of saving this shattered world might hurt him. The idea of a god coming to harm because of him was far-fetched but the fear lingered, a thing he couldn't abide the idea of. But Loki didn't reject him, wasn't hurt by his presence. In fact he just tugged the sobbing Miqo'te into his lap which was accepted readily, Mikh'tan just staying curled against him in as close a quaking bundle as he could manage while he cried.

It took some time but eventually the crying seemed to taper off, though he didn't budge from where he was, quivering still as he soaked up the reassurance of the soft touch against his hair, face staying hidden against Loki's chest.

"S-sorry-" He managed after a long moment, in a small raw tone. "Didn't... didn't mean to f-fall apart on you-"

[coldsong]

If he continues to absorb Light, the sheer volume of it could potentially become dangerous, or painful, to Loki, and he doesn't like the thought of that. But thus far, it's only a slight, prickly feeling. Not unbearable, and only a little uncomfortable--and the pleasure of having Mikh'tan in his arms far outweighs that. He holds onto him firmly, even bending his knees to curl tighter around him.

He says nothing while he cries himself out, only a few wordless murmurs and caresses to his hair and back, giving him time and space. When he speaks at last, he gives him a light squeeze and kisses the top of his head.

"You try to be brave for so many, and hold back from laying your burdens on anyone. I would have you trust me to help you carry them, now and again. What else is a god for, if not to comfort those who believe in him?"

[darlingdatura]

It's comforting to feel the other all but wrapped around him, the gentle reassuring touches and soft soothing sounds helping as he was starting to cry himself out. Not that he would move away in the least as he was calming, the sound of the heartbeat in the chest he was curled against grounding in a way.

"This... it may kill me," He managed after a moment, voice still raw and ragged. "If I'm l-lucky that's all that it will do. No one... told me that absorbing this aether would do this. Just told me it would be okay. I didn't even know something was wrong before Y'shtola commented and even then-"

The fear there was quite blatant for all he was unused to actually expressing it like this.

"Working to save them and I may simply usher in the very destruction we're trying to prevent. I don't... I don't know what to do-"

[coldsong]

Loki's grasp tightens, just this side of bruising. He doesn't like the thought of him dying, and the idea of losing him to the Light completely is even worse. He cannot truly take on the immensity of what Mikh'tan is facing here. It's not his world, it's not part of his responsibility, and he's gone out on a limb even to come this far to comfort his favorite.

But who else does he have? It's a poor thing to be in a position that you can trust no one but the god of lies, but...

"I will not allow you to be subsumed," he says quietly, a dead-serious promise. "You are mine."

He may not be able to save him from death--all mortals die, sooner or later, and warriors sooner than most. But this, this he will dig in his heels for, risk himself, and give his strength for. No one will take what's his.

He has no idea what to do, but that's never stopped him before.

[darlingdatura]

There's a slightly rougher exhale of breath at the tightened grip but Mikh'tan doesn't complain. In some ways he craves the intensity, the knowledge that someone cares for him, wants him for themselves. Some bit of tension easing in him at the promise from Loki. A promise he trusted easily.

"Hydaelyn is a Primal," He continued softly. A Primal. Like the rest of the creatures he'd so often been called to fight, gods created wholesale from tales, or the tattered remnants of what once might have been only existing to drain the aether of the world, to enthrall those unfortunate enough to come near. "She might have tempered me. It would explain why the others can't, would explain why she was so interested in me and I wouldn't even be able to tell-"

Everything about the idea was horrifying to him, both in the loss of agency it hinted at, and the idea of that affecting what he had with Loki. He wasn't sure what to call it, but the relationship he'd developed with the god of lies, whatever it was, was dearly important to him. Loki was dearly important, beyond the concept of simply being the god he prayed to.

[coldsong]

"Sssh," Loki's hand comes up, first two fingers pressing softly against Mikh'tan's lips. "Your fears are rational, but talking of them now will only upset you further, don't you think? If you have been tempered, we will deal with it one way or another. You are not alone."

His grip gets a little gentler, but no less encompassing, and he tucks his cheek against Mikh'tan's head, nuzzling into his hair, between the ears. "If I have to find a way to steady the balance within you myself, I will."

Selfish, selfish...he shouldn't favor one follower so, even a favorite, risking the rest of his providence for him. But if Loki cannot be selfish, no god can be. And Mikh'tan has become more than a worshiper.

[darlingdatura]

It was easy enough to silence him, to stop the thread of that fearful thought with the gentle press of fingers to lips. Bi-colored gaze searching Loki's for what it was hard to say. Mikh'tan himself likely wasn't even sure, but whatever he saw seemed to soothe him some. Still trembling a bit, but nodding slowly as he took a slow, shuddering breath to try and calm himself.

"Y-you're right." He said finally in a soft tone, melting into the gentle affection being offered, unaware of the risk Loki's declaration came with. Just knowing that when he'd felt more frightened, more alone than ever, once again the god had appeared to put that lie to rest. It was comforting to know that he had someone that cared about him rather than about the cause they fought for and his role in it for all that was important.

[coldsong]

"I will never give you up," he says, his voice soft and gentle but not without a dark, possessive edge lurking beneath it. By now he's recognized, though, that Mikh'tan doesn't mind that possessiveness in the least.

It's nice to be told he's right, even--or maybe especially--when he knows he is, and he rewards him with a smile. "Of course I'm right. I'm a god; I'm meant to be right most of the time."

That's teasing, but he's hoping to lighten the mood. He leans down a little and seals his lips over Mikh'tan's in a gentle but intimate kiss, trying to soothe him further.

[darlingdatura]

It was little surprise really- after a lifetime where his presence was tolerated more than anything, the idea of being wanted, of anyone feeling that possessiveness towards him was a terribly addicting thing.

The teasing comment does work in earning a small smile in turn, the Miqo'te looking if not recovered perse, but malms better than he had when Loki first arrived.

"Only most of the time?" If the question, with it's teasing tone had anything more to be added it was forgotten quite neatly in the kiss that followed, Mikh'tan letting out a raspy little noise of enjoyment as he willingly let himself be swept up in returning the kiss.

[coldsong]

Loki understands that completely. On some level, he feels the same way. To be possessed is to be worth possessing. He knows the power that need has over someone who has been as lonely as he and his followers have. More so Mikh'tan than most, perhaps.

It's nice to have him tease him back. That shows that Mikh'tan is growing comfortable with him on a level beyond favored worshiper. It's probably not a good idea for a god and a mortal to truly be lovers, but it seems that's where they're headed (if they're not there already), and Loki can't begrudge either of them the pleasure.

"Mm, if you're going to give me credit for all the time, I'll take it," he says with a soft laugh, and gives himself over to the kiss, gradually sinking back and tugging Mikh'tan into a comfortable position on top of him.

[darlingdatura]

The Miqo'te wasn't quite the one to go to for the smart thing to do or the logical thing. Especially not where emotion was concerned. He might still be shy, somewhat sheepish around Loki but that didn't stop the fact that he was attached to the god, that he felt keenly and deeply that affection for him without any concern for consequences down the line. If Loki didn't like it he knew that the god would be capable of saying so.

"Someone's got to be right and you've a better track record than I do." Mikh'tan replied lightly between kisses, happy to follow the tug back. It was comforting to be encouraged in that way, making it easy for him to settle in against Loki, tail swishing idly across their legs, a low little pleased chirp slipping from him as the troubles that plagued him suddenly seemed, if only for the moment, so very far away.

[coldsong]

When the mortal and the immortal meet, someone pays the price. It's a universal consistency, and while Loki is certainly no Primal, the change that Mikh'tan is already going through is a sobering reminder. Then again, it's just possible that Loki's influence on him has been protecting him from the influx of Light aether, too. Sometimes Fate has obscure and unexpected designs, and even a god cannot see the full pattern of the weave until the thread is tied off, cut, and tucked neatly away.

One thing he is certain of is that they both have strong feelings, and he doesn't have the heart to lie about that.

"Oho, I only have a better track record for the length of time you've been alive," he laughs. "If you go back a thousand years or so, my hit rate decreases dramatically."

He resumes kissing him, soft and deep and lazy, letting his hands slide all the way up his side and back down to knead his hips. Cuddling and/or sex is bound to be a good distraction, but he'll let the miqo'te's mood dictate exactly which ensues here. What matters the most is the time together.

[darlingdatura]

Mikh'tan felt that whatever this was with Loki, was worth it. He couldn't pretend to understand what had caught the trickster's attention enough to start visiting himself, but the Miqo'te adored him all the more for it, for the reassurance and kindness he offered. If there was some protection offered by this influence, he had no idea but his feelings for Loki weren't tied to anything transactional like that.

"Oh shush and take the compliment," Mikh'tan chided with a soft, watery laugh of his own. "You wonderful menace."

His mood was malms better than it had been. He felt less of the cold despair that had been creeping into his heart in Loki's arms, quite happy to let himself be lost in the kisses, his own hands sliding along Loki's sides and up his chest. He had no idea which he wanted more just yet, sex or cuddling, but he knew that above all he wanted to be close, to keep Loki with him for as long as he was able.