giftedthom | (no subject)

::enters the room, flanked by Sleeta::

You know how to do it with your magic, but Cheysuli magic doesn't work that way.

...No. I suppose not.

Sleeta said one or two days, yeah?

Yes. It's been that.

Good. Then we need to do this, now.

::surreptitiously supports himself against the wall, trying not to show how badly the Gift is affecting him::

::nods:: How?

::bites his lip:: Well, they got tangled to begin with because I got a bit close when I was healing your Gift. If you use the healing power to try and heal the Gift again, it should reverse what happened.

I see ...

All right. Do I have to -- I suppose I must. Give me your hand.

::holds out his left hand, concentrating hard to try and keep it from shaking too much::

::grabs it and, without ado, opens his own mind and brushes tentatively against Brennan's with his newly-discovered healing magic::

::bites his lip against a cry at the intrusion, which is far less gentle than most Cheysuli are, and extends his own mind, pushing the violet Gift towards Thom::

::Is as gentle as he can manage about taking hold of it, which is not very. Impatience does not help.::

::bites his lip harder, drawing blood, and pushes the Gift further from him, trying to ignore the pain at Thom's not-very-gentle intrusion::

::Thom smiles at the familiarity, mostly oblivious to Brennan's discomfort, and offers a line of Brennan's magic back to him.::

::pulls his magic back to him, almost sobbing in relief when the first vestiges of the lir-link flare up in his mind. It's not enough to speak to Sleeta yet, but it distracts him from the pain::

::tugs the last of his Gift away and, somewhat reluctantly, surrenders Brennan's magic to him::

::the lir-link blazes back into life, and Brennan practically falls to his knees beside Sleeta, burying his face in her pelt and trying not to show exactly how much that just hurt him::

::Stands there for a minute, luxuriating in his returned (and healthier) power.

Then he comes back to himself, as it were, and orders:: Out.

::staggers to his feet, wiping the blood off his face and hoping that Thom doesn't notice it::

Right. Glad it worked.

::Thom doesn't notice. Lucky Brennan?::

::curtly:: As am I.

::as Brennan shakily turns to leave, Sleeta speaks up::

Children. Always so blind to what's right in front of them.

::Thom and Brennan both hear her.::

::thoroughly gobsmacked:: What.

::slowly turning::

You heard that, didn't you.

::firmly:: No. There was nothing to hear.

Now get out.

::Sleeta sounds amused and annoyed at the same time::

Denying it won't help, lir.