[For a moment, he can say nothing— how can he rebuke that, tell Hythlodaeus he ought not dare to consider such a thing when he himself had, without quite meaning to, assigned him some responsibility for his own failings? It is, perhaps, worth thinking of what might have been different, had Hades not been left to shoulder his burden alone— but ultimately, it was pointless, and the responsibility was his.
He'd made his choices. It was, in fact, very likely that he would have made the very same choices if Hythlodaeus or Azem had remained at his side, because he had believed— believed that the cause was righteous, that the ends justified the means.
He exhales slowly against the crook of his lover's neck before summoning up the strength to shake his head, to tip his chin upwards to press a kiss against the smooth line of his jaw, even as he feels Hythlodaeus' grip tighten, a reflection of the desperation that Hades, himself, feels within him, desperation to remain in this moment, where the past and the future have no bearing, and it is only them.]
You did what your heart lead you to do, as you always have.
[What he believed to be right. In that, they were not so different, but Hythlodaeus had always been better than him. Loving. Generous.
He smiles faintly, bittersweet, and presses another kiss against his collarbone.]
For that, I am grateful.
[That he's here. That after everything, he's staying. Without him, there would be no Hades now, he thinks— only Emet-Selch, a mantle he finds himself eager to retire. If he is to have a place on this star at all, he knows that it is with Hythlodaeus.]
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He'd made his choices. It was, in fact, very likely that he would have made the very same choices if Hythlodaeus or Azem had remained at his side, because he had believed— believed that the cause was righteous, that the ends justified the means.
He exhales slowly against the crook of his lover's neck before summoning up the strength to shake his head, to tip his chin upwards to press a kiss against the smooth line of his jaw, even as he feels Hythlodaeus' grip tighten, a reflection of the desperation that Hades, himself, feels within him, desperation to remain in this moment, where the past and the future have no bearing, and it is only them.]
You did what your heart lead you to do, as you always have.
[What he believed to be right. In that, they were not so different, but Hythlodaeus had always been better than him. Loving. Generous.
He smiles faintly, bittersweet, and presses another kiss against his collarbone.]
For that, I am grateful.
[That he's here. That after everything, he's staying. Without him, there would be no Hades now, he thinks— only Emet-Selch, a mantle he finds himself eager to retire. If he is to have a place on this star at all, he knows that it is with Hythlodaeus.]