fenny58:
Scorto hugs Casavir, trying to snuggle into him even with the armer. The coldest of in reminds him of Mama. He smiled. Scorto looks over at Duncan.
“Can I have a hug please Duncan? Im sorry for upsetting you both… sorry. But Bishop did save me from Rabbit!”
Scorto smiled up at Casavir.
“ So he can’t be all bad or he wouldn’t have saved me….and he likes me dancing and my outfit I had on…so he’s not completely bad right?”
“Oh, why not. But don’t go telling the others, else they’ll think ol’ Duncan’s getting soft,” the barkeeper obliged, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. Casavir patted Scorto’s head affectionately before stepping away, allowing Duncan to provide a sturdy but spirited hug to the drow.
Casavir, only a few steps away, observed the scene with a smile. It started as a true genuine expression of familial warmth, but as the circumstances set in, the corners of his mouth felt… heavier. A hand lifted to rub his armored bicep, a gesture urged on from what lurked in his subconscious. He tilted his head, eyes lowered to the floor. Despite that, he swallowed and freshly renewed his efforts to maintain the outward appearance of gladness.
Is it too late for Scorto?
…Was I too late?
Casavir breathed in and tightly held his bright expression. Pale blue eyes lifted to meet Scorto’s gaze squarely, securely. “What is important is that you are safe here with Duncan and I. You are among friends. And you will have a safe place with us should you need somewhere to retreat.”
Too late. Too late. Too late. Too late. Too late.
Scorto giggles and hugs Duncan back, happy to get a hug from Duncan. But he kept an eye on Casavir, for just a few moments… But then Casavir looks at him making eye contact.
Scorto smiled at him, but can’t help the worry he feels, he knew the signs better then most when someone is worrid, from watching Malice from his own fear and habits he’d picked up because of them he knew what to watch for, added to the fact his little brother was not happy only a few minutes ago it made sense if Casavir was upset.
Scorto suddenly felt horrible, he knew Casavir didn’t like Bishop, he knew that and he’d….but just once couldn’t he be a little selfish? Just this once? He tried so hard to be a good big brother…but he really liked Bishop. But he didn’t, he…..
Scorto almost misses Casavir’s words, almost but not quite. Scorto blinks he swollows before he spoke, he felt worse by the second.
“I’m really grateful little one that I have you and Duncan as friends and family. I’ll remember… Promise…. I’ll.. I’ll try to keep Bishop from being mean and I’ll try to keep people from being mean to him. Maybe it will help him if he feels more safe here he’s… He’s very jumpy even though he tries to hide it. But I’ll be careful it’s not me he should be afraid of…. Mal will take care of him surface rules or no if he dose anything else bad to me. ”
Scorto moved then wiggling out of Duncan’s hug to move over and stand in front of Casavir, Scorto reached out and gently took Casavir’s hands into his. Scorto looks up at Casavir, his voice is soft he gently squeezed Casavir’s hands.
“I’m here, I’m right here little brother, I’m right here, I’m not leaving you. I’m not leaving you Mal, Mama, Duncan or Bishop…the tavern is my home, I’ve found a home and a family it’s not perfect, but I’m not perfect. But I promise, no that’s not enough, I spider promise I’m not leaving you, and I won’t let Bishop hurt you again. If…”
Scorto swollows and squeezed Casavir’s hands a little more.
“Even if my mother matron came back from the dead and ordered me to leave…I wouldn’t do it, I don’t abandon my family I’m not Drizzt…I won’t leave you, your my little brother…it’s my job to look out for you…. please don’t leave me Casavir? Please?”
Scorto held on to Casavir’s hands like he was afraid Casavir would disappear.
“Keep him from being mean? Well, you could try,” remarked the barkeeper with snort. “But you won’t get much farther than a snowball in Phlegethos.” He shook his head. “I tell ya.” He began to clean up somewhat, keeping an eye on the two as they conversed.
Gently, Casavir told Scorto, “I can not find an encouraging word regarding the relationship you pursue with that man. But please. You must not attribute his avoidance to fear. Doing so will only shield him from accountability for his actions. Remember this, Scorto, and do not deny yourself humane treatment in exchange for his comfort.”
Perhaps there was more to be said about Scorto’s insistence on making promises that Bishop would break for him without hesitation, but the drow seemed to be wrapped in his own determination. A confidence creating a personal reality in which he could fix him, that somehow, he would be different from the others who became involved with him, that Bishop was a poor misunderstood creature rather than a calculating predator. Scorto’s firm conviction pained Casavir, and yet would pain Casavir further to see shattered. Scorto had hope. Would it truly be a fair deed to rip that hope from him in an attempt to shield him from harm further on down the line?
True righteousness was presently obscured to him. It left him stranded at the blind precipice of wavering judgment, uncertain of which side of the line he walked would be the fall. A line indistinguishable between kindness and cruelty, of security and violation, and for several moments the paladin did not trust even his own judgment. Maybe it was not up to him to make judgment, but to carry out the judgment of Tyr. He only prayed that the Even-Handed Lord would grant him clarity soon.
Scorto grabbed his hands and squeezed them tightly. Casavir returned the gesture of security and answered, “It means very much to me to know you shall remain here. My work will take me to many places, but I shall always be here with you in spirit, and you in my prayers. Distance will not part us so easily. I swear it.” Again he locked eyes with the drow, exhausted but unflinching. In turn, the drow looked desperate as though worried he may depart yet again at a moment’s notice. No. It was not his job to look out for him. It was their job to look out for one another. “We are brothers, Scorto. Nothing will rob us of this bond.”
