the world crumbles under me

Xochipilli had... more or less fled the beach. He'd gone home, and stayed there for a while, but when no-one followed (why did he give himself the hope that Carasson would come to check on him, he didn't know) he left. He'd wandered to one of his favorite spots, further down the coast from the clan's current home. For those who were knowledgeable about the Keeper's favorite spots, they'd find him a few miles from the clan. There was a overhanging cliff that let him look out over the water. Far enough from the clan to provide solace, but close enough that he could get back if he needed too.

His legs dangled off the edge, as he stared at the unopened bottle of alcohol. He'd hidden it out here on the cliff, and had not visited since he was first sober. Staring at it, he warred with himself.

Chip could hear Inala's question—was his only purpose in life to hurt her? His relationship was hurting her; and that very firmly reminded him why he had abstained from romantic entanglements since they'd broken up. He didn't want to ruin anything for anyone in his family.

The elf pulled his knees to his chest, closing his eyes as he buried his face into his knees. The cliff wasn't exceptionally tall, a good jump if he wanted, but he could also walk down the path in five minutes. And he was seriously considering the cold bite of the water, or the liquid in that bottle.

His spirit spoke to him, trying to convince him that his intentions had been good even if what happened hadn't. He couldn't outrun the feeling that he'd screwed everything up. Again. And as the minutes ticked by, the Keeper reached to run his fingers across the bottle, fiddling with the lid, but not opening it. There was something comfortingly good about having it there, where he could have it if he wanted it. Even though it was wrong; he'd worked hard to get sober for as long as he had. 

But Inala had assumed that's what they'd wanted to talk to her about. And she'd wanted him to out his failure to their clan. Hands withdrawn from the bottle, he scooted a few paces away and dug his toes into the sand. Everything was wrong. Chip flopped onto his back, to watch the sky. Eventually, the tranquility of the moment, of the space, drew him into sleeping. 

How long, he didn't know. But when he awoke, he could hear footsteps.

It was less than ideal but no less than he deserved. The fault fit squarely on his shoulders,whether Chip wanted to share in that burden or not. Ultimately there could be no denying that Carasson's action and subsequent inaction were to blame for the angst ridden aura that followed him and colored his relationships. He could see the hurt in Inala's eyes and knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that if she never trusted him again, he could no more blame her than he could blame Chip. There was also the caveat of this being entirely out of his control thanks to the thing that lived inside of him and yet part of him felt wrong relying on that as an explaination. It was the reason he hadn't lead with it. He didn't want to insult Inala more by giving her paltry excuses as if this wasn't a equally paltry infraction, as if this wasn't an incredible breach of one of their main tennents as a couple. Communication. She deserved it, expected it and he'd hidden the truth from her, demon or not. There was no excuse. No good ones at least, none that even reached the level of sorrow he felt in the moments after his confession. 


In the end there was little else he could say that might get encourage another response. He could see Inala closing up on him the more he tried to explain. Perhaps Chip had the right idea in walking off when he did, even if Cara felt it a coward's response. Not that he felt in any way threatened by Inala, or begrudged her company but just that the whole point of telling Inala in the moment was doing it together.  

Cara followed Inala, tailing her where she walked even if he knew she might be trying to evade him until it finally occured to him that it was doing more harm than good, that he wasn't doing anything for his case and that he couldn't possible expect her to fully process anything unless he let her mull over alone. It broke his heart to step away, but such was the punishment for doing his own heartbreaking. It was a bitter reality to swallow. Especially when, after several hours, he resolved to confront Chip on the matter of his untimely exit. 

It had taken him several stop at each of the usual spots before he finally saw the hulking outline (impressive considering that he was prone across the rock). Worrisome that he was out here of all places, Cara knowing Chip often came to reflect in peace (and no doubt drink back when it was bad).Back then they all pretended they didn't smell it on his breath when he came back to shore, but back then things weren't as urgent. Now with a blight threatening to consume Ferelden, it was all the more imperative that their Keeper kept his wits about them. Which was why when Cara finally stopped to stand above the sleeping giant, twilight gathering around him as he faced the horizon, persistant sea breeze tossling his curls, it was all the more concerning to see a bottle. 

He frowned. 

Shifting a couple steps to pick the bottle up. That's when Chip stirred and Cara's gaze darkened. He was already fuming over the shitshow from earlier but now this? 

Don't you make for a pretty disappointment? He snapped, gesturing with the unopened bottle. What was the plan? Abandon me and then drink until you forgot? his lips pulled into a line as his gaze softened a bit. Because for all his vitriol, it hurt to see his friend like this.

He heard the voice before he saw the owner of it. And he was silent, as he pushed himself upright, shoving sandy curls out of his face. The bottle was gone from the sand, instead it rested in Cara's hand. Dark eyes swept from the bottle to the other's face, and he shook his head.

Plan was to be the drunk she's convinced I am. His tone was bitter, he rested his chin on his knees. But then I was here, and... His gaze finally leaves the man standing above him, and focuses on the shapes he's idly drawing in the sand with one hand.

I couldn't... open it. He doesn't mean literally, there wasn't much that Xochipilli could not open. Despite the fact that Carasson terrified Chip sometimes, that there was a spirit there that did not like him one bit, that didn't change that this was the man who'd spent weeks helping Chip piece himself together after he gave up alcohol. Despite everything he still wanted Carasson to be proud of him.

Abstaining from any relationship that could become anything more than a fling in the night made him starved for attention—no, affection. But the constant fear that he'd mess things up and lose anything he started...

He's quite for a while, drawing in the sand to try and quiet his thoughts. My worst fear was always... messing things up for her. She deserves to be happy. He brushes excess sand away from a line he'd drawn, refusing to look at his First.

I'm sorry, that I fucked up so badly. There's no anger in his voice, though perhaps there should be. He's resigned to the fact that he's the issue here; he must be.

Relieved as he was to hear the confession, Cara couldn't help but still feel a swell of frustrated anger. At the cowardly exit, and the renewal of his fear that one day Chip might fall off the wagon and undo years of recovery. Carasson wouldn't deny the racing of his own heart out of fear that it was still a distinct possibility. It made the urge to chuck that bottle as far as he could at the horizon and hope that Chip was never inclined to swim after it. Something kept him from following through however, something that realized that the unopened bottle was as much a reminder of how far he'd come as anything else. Perhaps, the bottle would stay for now. Albeit gripped firmly by his side and now heavily warded with a barrier of magic. Protective magic. 

Guilt ran in his chest from the echo of his own words moments before. Disappointment was unfair. It was a rash swipe he now fully regret allowing to escape his self control. Aside from his recent outburst curtesy of the thing inside of him, Cara liked to think he was rather well known for his dependable calm. Liked to think it was part of the reason he'd risen to the status of First. 

He noted the absence of eye contact, the avoidance that no doubt meant that Chip felt the full weight of his own perceived disappointment. How was it possible for his anger to fade away so quickly? Perhaps for the simple reason that the Varahel Keeper held such a monumental place in his heart that no matter what he did to incite his frustration, Cara would always find a way to forgive it. It was frustrating in its own right. Cara had come here practically itching for another fight only to be effectively deflated by regret. 

Wordlessly he sank down into the sand, his lips pulled into a emotionless line as he settled into the sand and tucked the bottle between them. A reminder that neither of their were infalible. He understood the appeal of this spot now for Chip, how it might soothe some part of him to remember what an improved he'd made on his life since the earlier days. Without turning his head to speak to Chip, he instead looked out at the darkening horizon. She does, and I like to think I've done my best in giving that to her over the years. His time spent intimately connect with Inala had molded him into the male he was now. She means everything to me Chip and I would do anything to give her the happiness. Except for one thing. he paused for pointed effect, I will never give you up, nor will I apologize for loving you the way I do. His voice softened on his last words as he finally shifted to look at his Keeper. I'll find a way to fix it with her, and you should to.He didn't need for Chip and Inala to assume the same connection they had twenty years ago, but he needed for them to function amicably together, for all their sakes. 

I just need you to talk to me Chip. Talk to me and stop hiding in here." He reached up with one hand and jammed a finger at the center of his forehead. Stop running. Without wanting to steal focus, Cara needed to find a way to express that what had hurt the most about the entire exchange on the beach was feeling like he wasn't worth the fight. Because, I'm not going to lie to you, I'm starting to run out of stamina to chase you. And that would break his heart entire. He didn't want to give up on Chip unless it was painfully obvious he didn't want the help.

Xochipilli definitely felt the weight of perceived disappointment; from Inala, from the clan... but what hurt the most, was thinking Carasson was disappointed in him. He watched the other man settle onto the ground, let his gaze sweep across the bottle in-between them. The darkening horizon was a pleasant sight, but not as pleasant as the elf across from him.

He listened in silence as the other man spoke, flushing when his gaze met Cara's. The weight of his words felt like a promise, no-one had ever promised something like that to him. (Albeit, likely because he'd never let anyone else close enough to heed such a promise...)

Yet, he was quiet. At least until the other man jabbed his forehead. And the next words made his chest tight; like he might suffocate. I... am afraid? That Inala might not forgive you, and our Chi has to deal with another separation. His next words were quiet, almost a whisper, ...and that it's my fault.

He cleared his throat, I don't want to do more damage to our child's family. It's... I thought I could avoid falling in love. Especially with someone his ex-partner loved. Instead, he'd gone and done just that. Chip shifted to settle next to Cara, fingers rough from overuse, but gentle as he sought the others hand.

But I couldn't, avoid love. I did try, though, his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. He was quiet for a moment, staring at the bottle in front of them. I don't want to run anymore. He used to drink to forget his feelings for Inala, and then he drank to forget how he felt when he was around Cara. Desperate to avoid feelings because all feelings ever did were hurt those around him. Desperate to ignore how his feelings hurt himself.

I shouldn't have left you alone. I'm sorry. You're... not someone I ever want to walk away from, again. After this statement, he squeezes his lovers hand, and lets silence grown between them. Calm, drawn out, but not a stressful silence. Rather, the kind of silence he had come here to find. Turns out, sometimes solitude isn't the best way to clear one's mind.

Running and avoidance had been key. But... In the end, none of it mattered. What lengths he took to avoid Cara; it didn't matter. He didn't often ask for help; he didn't like to appear weak. He was a Keeper... he wasn't supposed to need help. At least, that's what he'd thought. Turns out, even Keepers can use a helping hand. One would think, the man who had taught his child that falling down was okay, would believe the same for himself. 

How do we fix what's broken?

Nothing about this conversation felt right to Carasson. While it was hardly realistic to think either of them could do no wrong, it wasn't fair to fault Chip for everything that happened here. They were both at fault. Just as they were both party to the act of contention. Very much a party to if memory served him correctly. Well meant as their intentions were and continued to be, there would always remain that vein of selfishness throughout. it was selfish to hide this, inadvertently or not. Not to mention that in doing so, they offered themselves a grave disservice. It wasn't fair and yet there it was, the elephant in the room they could no more ignore than they could change. 

Cara refused to let it ruin either of his relationships. He wouldn't let either of them walk away. Not until it was over, truly over. At which point, Carasson truly didn't know what he would do if Inala never took him back for this. We're all afraid. Fear is good, or it can be if perceived correctly. He exhaled, arms draping over bent knees as he smoothed a calloused hand over his mouth in reverence of his no doubt profound thoughts. Ultimately neither of us can force Inala to forgive this. She shouldn't forgive it. All we can do is hope that we can all find some peace in this and to make sure she and Chi know that there is a tremendous amount of affection in this family that can never be lost. Idealistic musings of a desperate man. 

And then unexpectedly, Cara smiled. 

I'm not going to let you take the credit for this Chip. There were two of us in that room and we both made a conscious decision. He said softly, accepting the offer of Chip's hand to thread with his own. And I don't regret it. Not for one second. I just regret my own choice in not saying something sooner. Because much as he preferred to pass the blame to that hateful entity inside of him, there was some thread of his own consciousness in all of this. But you, Xochipili, he brought their joined hands higher between them before pressing his lips to the back of the Keeper's hand. I will never regret, no matter how hard you try. A sentiment he thought bore repeating. He squeezed Chip's hand in exclamation to his point, smile turning slightly wicked in the slight tease. 

But how did they fix this? That was the question of the age. Where did they even begin? 

Cara sighed , dropping their hands into the sand again as he looked out towards the horizon. We need to give Inala the space she needs. However long, however much she needs. We fix this when she is open to it. And then, he bit down on the inside of his cheek. We be the men she deserves to have in her life.

Xochipilli sighed quietly, watching his lover. He hated seeing the pain that he had caused him. He listened as Cara talked about Inala, about Chi, about their family... and for just a moment he was reminded of how he had been when Inala found Cara.

Desperate to find her affection turned towards him again. And now? As their fingers threaded together, he wanted nothing else but the man next to him. And he'd been feeling sour, like he was the issue, at least...

Until that smile. And his words. They'd share responsibility. Sweeter words couldn't have left your lips, he murmured, leaning to steal a kiss. Gentle, thoughtful, and soft it was quick.

Chip shifted, settling an arm around the other man as he listened. So... if we're supposed to become the men she needs in her life, we'll need to address your guest. He sucked on his teeth.

But maybe, tonight, we just be.

There was a lot to consider here, a lot to unpack but in the end they would weather this like any other insurmountable problem they faced and they would do it together. This family. Together in whatever way it was meant. Cara wanted so much to be what both of them deserved, but in doing so he also needed to be worthy of his own respect and lately that was not the case. He was disgusted with his behavior, frustrated by his missing chunks of time, resentful of the presence inside of him that warred for consciousness. 

He smiled despite himself however, willing himself back to the present. A wry smirk appeared just as they were stolen in a kiss. Really? Are you sure about that? He leaned in to steal a kiss of his own, his teeth biting down gentle on the other man's lip before he pulled back just as quickly. 

Dread washed over him again. Dread, despair and everything else miserable. He settled against the Keeper, eyes focused on the horizon again with a far away expression, all to hide what he felt when he thought about his uninvited guest. He swallowed a lump in his throat at the precise moment his eyes stung. No. Not now. Yes, he'd love nothing more than to just be but life was never so simple was it? Chip I... He started. He could already feel the chaos inside of him start to stir from slumber as if it knew it was being discussed. Will you promise me something? He ventured, hastily wiping an errant tear away before focusing again on the horizon. He wouldn't be able to look at Chip and ask him this.

Xochipilli frowned as the second kiss was broken quickly. He adjusted himself, so that he could pull his boyfriend into his lap, snug against his chest. Carasson felt like he belonged right there. Never to move again.

The keeper slipped his arms loosely around the others middle, acutely aware of the way Carasson swallowed. Though he could not see that his eyes were watering. Not until Cara wiped an errant tear away with his hand.

Depends on what I'm promising. The typical answer would be yes; but something didn't feel right. This time. Instead he felt... like he might dread what was asked of him. And his grasp on his First tightened, fingers pulling and smoothing his tunic out in a pure moment of anxiety.

What's on your mind, precious? The words were quiet, as he rested his chin on the other's shoulder.

How could one moment feel so right and so incredibly wrong at once? Because that's exactly what this moment was. Right for the obvious reasons. He belonged wrapped in these arms just as his cheek belonged against Inala's cheek. Right, because after all of this time, it just made plain ol sense for them to be together. Chip was in fact one of the people that knew him best in this world. He would never give up, not for all of the temptations in the world. Even one such as......

You have to. He nearly whispered, choking on his own phlegm as it bubbled in his throat with his impending outburst.

It was wrong because ultimately after all that has transpired, he didn't feel at all worthy of this. 

Cara reached up to grab the other's hand so that he might keep it from fidgeting and adding to the rising dread that needed no more help. Feeling incapable of saying the words in that moment, Carasson shifted so that he might look Xochipilli in the eye. He deserved that much. The emotion presented however, the simmering fear behind glassy surrender, said it all. 

Please don't make me say it.

He was silent, as his lover whispered and choked out the words. Blinking back tears as he came face-to-face with eyes that read only surrender. Ca... mmm, no. He whispered, his voice breaking. He didn't need to hear the words. It was clear what the request was.

Chip reached to cup the others face, shaking his head slowly. There's still t... time to fix it. Rough thumbs brushed along the other man's cheeks, and he shook his head again. It's not on the table. Not yet. But...

He exhaled quietly, blinking hard. Ignored the tears that trailed down his face. ...if it gets bad, I will. We're not there yet. No, they'd never be there if Chip was left to decide.

The words tasted foul, and he pulled the other to him, in a crushing hug. I love you, you know? You can't... give up. Not... not yet. He's pleading, because he's aware if his lover truly stopped fighting the possession, then it would take over.

And he didn't know if he'd be able to get Carasson back if that happened.

The moment of realization was the tipping point, the moment it all came crashing down. Finally Chip understood. Yes he whispered in argument. 

And though it was exactly what he needed to hear, the agreement still hit him like a stampede, damn near knocking the breath out of him. 

Maybe Chip would never understand. Hell, it was still unfathomable to him, and he lived it. That he could be one person in one moment and then wake up with haunted memories the next. That he could vaguely remember the things he'd said and done in a grey haze. That he could sometimes viscerally feel that hatred clear as day. 

But there is no more time, Chip He was barely holding onto this moment. Already he was feeling his self slip behind that curtain to make way for a stronger will. And you know that. Or you wouldn't have lied about that night you almost died. He'd pieced it together, saw enough flashes, felt enough glee and hate and anger to know precisely what had happened. 

There was no demon. 

And before I try it again, you have to. He swallowed. Or else I'll never forgive you He pulled back in the embrace, leaning so that he could place a kiss to his salt stained lips. Because he was worried he might soon be robbed of the opportunity.

Xochipilli's shoulders stiffened, and he grit his teeth as he stared at his boyfriend. When... did you figure it out? He'd still felt bad about lying; but he'd been trying to save him from the pain of knowing he'd injured him so badly. That the creature that had almost killed him was in that body with him.

The words sound like a death sentence, and yet he's so rapidly thinking his about what he can do that it's impossible to pinpoint the moment he's realized. To keep the clan safe, keep Cara safe, and hopefully ward off this creature.

As Carasson kissed him, he leaned into it. Held it as long as the other might allow. And during this kiss, the other man would find vines gently encroaching on his personal space. Twisting around his wrists, up his arms, over his legs.

I'll stay with you. To make sure the bindings held. He could continue to re-create them as often as he needed. The downside was, he'd watch his lovers descent into... well, madness. This... could work, right? It's a weak question, open-ended because neither of them can answer it.

And yet, he's hoping with everything that he is, that maybe this will keep Carasson contained. They're about a mile from the clan, as it is. It's as good a place as any.

Admitting this felt wrong. So wrong. Catastrophically wrong. The truth twisted his gut in ways he knew to be near impossible to reconcile. He didn't want to acknowledge the reality of that night, didn't want to call Chip out on the lie, but it was necessary. But acknowledging what happened could give them some semblance a power in all of this chaos. Not long after. He swallowed the knot in his throat as his palms grew thick with sweat. Blood magic should've never been up for consideration. Adept as he was at the practice, he knew all too well how quickly it could turn ugly, and now so did Chip. I'm so sorry. He choked out barely above a whisper. The way he strained to speak now felt eerily reminiscent of the burn in his windpipe as he drowned on dry ground while visceral hate boiled in his gut. He remembered that the most. He reached up to clutch his own throat then, as if to ensure it wasn't happening again. 

When he felt the vines start to tangle around his limbs, pulling taut as he instinctually pulled away. He swallowed hard even as their lips remained pressed together. He was scared, horrified beyond comprehension. Was it reasonable to be this scared of your own will brought to fruition? Because that's exactly what this was. Chip listened to him and now here they were. His chin trembled as a herald to the dam that was about to break inside of him. He allowed his forehead to drop against Chip's as the vines continued to bind around his body, constricting around his torso. Instinct called on his magic to help but he quieted those urges, tunneling the magic deep inside, too far beyond ready control. He wouldn't let it have that part of him. Not yet. 

He wanted it to work but the dastardly truth was that he knew deep in his gut that it wouldn't. His will had become too eroded. 

This was him giving up. 

Be patient with her. He hoped Chip understood who he meant considering she'd been the topic of conversation. I need you to take care of her the way she needs, not the way you need. Do you understand? A tear broke free as dread flooded in and primal anger shadowing along the edge, simmering, waiting its turn.

You are sorry for my mistake? He sighed softly at his lover, reached to trace his fingers along Cara's jaw, as vines slowly twisted around his body. Don't be. It was actually... pretty hot, knowing you and I can stand toe-to-toe. He chuckled, though the sound does not sound happy.

As Cara clutches his throat, Chip reached to claim that hand, fingers rubbing across the backs, over his knuckles. It's okay, Cara. Deep breath. His touch was gentle, even as he felt the other man tense and instinctively try to pull away from the vines.

His chin trembled, and Chip rested his hand against the back of Carasson's head, whispering softly as their foreheads rested together, We've got this. Fingers ran through dark hair, as Chip tried to sooth the other man.

He used to be good at that.

It was different when he knew he was causing this kind of reaction. Soothing it wouldn't work.

I'll be patient. I'll take care of her, okay? But you'll be right there beside me. She needed them both, even if she refused to acknowledge that she needed Chip.

His denial was going to get him killed.