Oomph...

( oh my. well. he hasn't bent like that in a good long while. his back cricks like the old man he isn't (or is, depending on how you choose to interpret the inconclusive passage of time), but he'll take the momentary discomfort in exchange for getting to be the one to hide his face for a change. his arms slide to the small of her back, encircling both to continue the embrace and for balance, and he plants his feathery face right into the crook of her neck. or as much of it as the furs let him get to, at any rate. )

Darling, I can't disagree with you. He doesn't fight fairly in any sense of the word. Believe me, I tried. I tried everything. I tried traps and tricks, I tried brute force, I tried a duel... I even tried magic.

( oh yeah. he can do magic. )

It isn't a matter of being unable to overpower him. It's that he... manipulates you. With his words. With his illusions. By playing on your fears, your innermost weaknesses, your self-doubt. He may not be the root of all evil, but certainly fertilizes it. I'm not the first he's done it to. The realm is full of poor dumb bastards like me.

( ... )

Your son, too. For awhile. But not anymore.