The thing is that everything that Zevran is saying makes sense to Cyril. He can even see how, from a certain point of view, Zevran is trying to help. He understands that Merrick is a powder-keg. That there's a lot to work through when it comes to his brother's anger. He personally gets it, but it's harder to explain those things to Merrick. He doesn't have patience for anything with that much nuance. Despite that, Cyril also knows that if given a chance and some understanding Merrick can do wonderful things, and is more capable than people give him credit for.
He just knows they also live in a world where you can't ask for that sort of understanding and expect it. Even the Clan had trouble seeing things from Merrick's perspective. Many had thought of him like a diseased limb, something to cut off and cast aside. It had taken so much work to show them that he was useful and worthy. He still going to try though, because it's better than casting everyone else aside and being suspicious of them.
Cyril knows that the work of getting people to give Merrick a chance starts all over again here. He's just hoping to limit some of the damage. Starting with making sure that Zevran doesn't trigger another breakdown.
"You can intervene without escalating," Cyril says carefully. "You can avoid comparing him to an animal. You can distract, or manipulate, or even come and get me." He pauses for a moment, taking a breath. He feels like he's had this conversation before and but he'll keep having it for as long as it's needed.
"He's not going to attack mindlessly. He's not an idiot."
"I had honestly assumed a quick bout in the mud would see him sorted- there were many such temper flare ups in the Crows during downtime and I thought what worked then would work for him as well. Apparently I was wrong. It will not come to blows again." Not if it only made things worse- as it seemed to have in this instance. Beyond telling Beleth to mind the fool, he hadn't paid attention. He'd left to tend to his bruises and make sure none of his stitches popped. "That he caught me in such ill humor at the time as well brought...more unsavory memories and reflexes to the fore. Such things were handled in a certain way in the Crows."
And they were not kind, not gentle, and by no means conductive to preventing the behavior out of anything other than fear for punishment.
"I take it the phrase 'mad dog' is one he has heard before and does him no benefit? I will avoid it in the future." Calling him a fool, though, that must still be on the table. "No, but he is easily goaded as we saw tonight- and not everyone in the tavern is as discerning a combatant as I. Humans are terribly stupid in the face of their prejudices, Cyril. It would not take much for one of them to do something foolish."
The bit about humans being stupid gets a very small smile out of him, even if it's just the corner of his mouth. He nods a bit, accepting what Zevran is saying for now. He's still wary, but his shoulders aren't as tight.
"Thank you. Being compared to animals is something most of Our People can relate to, I'd think." Though Zevran has hit the nail on the head there, Cyril isn't going to give away more details about Merrick can he has to. It's enough that he at least gets it and is offering to not repeat it. "And believe me, the thought that he'll anger the wrong person is something that weighs heavily on me every day, but I have to trust him. He's not an animal or a child. He's my brother." And even more than that, but that's impossible to explain with words.
Then, after a moment, he chooses to change the subject a bit. Mostly because the only thing he thinks he could accomplish today has been done - Zevran has agreed to watch his choice of language and to limit the violence against Merrick.
"I apologize for the unwanted memories. I don't know much of the Crows but it sounds like it was... difficult to be among them."
"Cyril- I know you mean well but I am not nor shall I ever be Dalish. I would not be counted among them- it does them a disservice." It is the kindest way to lay things out. He is an Antivan above all else- that he is an elf comes second. It's something he is reminded of frequently but not how he pegs himself off the cuff. For the moment he laughs the notion off.
It is kind, terribly kind of Cyril to think of him as such, but much as he told Gavin he is no hero? He is no Dalish. Their world is not his own.
"Mmm? When you know nothing else? It does not seem so bad. But when you know there is more to life than being in a pretty cage?" He shrugs, seeing no reason to elaborate. He was a crow, now he is not. His life and choices are his own.
Cyril just lets that first part go. He understands why other elves might reject the idea that they are all One People, but that doesn't stop him from associating them as that way. His own tendency to do that, though, doesn't nullify the way that Zevran defines himself. When it comes to words or terms to use for Zevran, that matters more than Cyril's thoughts or opinions. He files the fact that Zevran doesn't want to be grouped that way for later but focuses instead on the other subject.
"I can see what you mean." He thinks this is getting to be too serious and his chest hurts from worrying about Merrick. Instead of trying to harp on that, he defaults to saying something suggestive. "I'd only want to be put in a cage if I knew I could say a word and be let out again."
"Mmm. A pity I have no such cage on hand. Rope and leather, now..." He trails off with a chuckle, lacing his fingers before him. "That I have in spades. Though there was this one brothel in Antiva City that actually had padded cages for such use- molded to the form of a writhing body. Being in one of those? Ah. Exquisite torture."
"If I had a hoist and a hook and quite a bit of time? I could likely manage to rig one out of rope- something to suspend you and hold you immobile throughout the lovemaking process." Now that would be a project. Managing that somewhere with enough privacy? Difficult. Challenging. But not impossible.
Cyril chuckles a bit. "Find me once you have it set up, we'll see if we're both still up for using it."
For now, he still feels too wary to try and take Zevran up on any offers. It's important that the offer for the future is still there though.
"I think I've said everything I needed to for today, and you have a bite mark to tend to. Did you need anything else for that, by the way? I can try to make sure your tended to."
"Perhaps a kiss?" He offers with a half smile, extending a hand. "Truly? No. The poultice and snow will see to it. I have suffered worse at the hands of my own traps. But you..."
How does he say this?
"It is...difficult on you as well, his troubles, his fits." For that is what it had been, a fit. How many times had he stepped in to do much the same for Taliesin in his youth, when his jealous rages would get the better of him? "Soothing him afterward. Playing the peacemaker. Begging patience and forgiveness for him. Is there anything I might do to ease that particular burden?"
Cyril isn't sure how to respond to that at first. If it had been a human, he would have been irritated by the offer, but Zevran, despite him saying he isn't one of the People, still has pointed ears.
"I'm fine," he says, but it's not as short or tart as it could have been.
In truth, he doesn't feel entirely comfortable sharing any more details than that. At least not yet.
He doesn't take the hand either, but it's less an outright denial as still being a little wary. He isn't sure how Zevran will take to being shot down like that.
"A liar knows a liar when he sees them, tesoro." He murmurs, but says no more, letting his hand fall back to his side. It is not his place to pry- no more than it is his place to ask at all.
But an offer has been made and in that, he can rest easy knowing he made the attempt. Anything more is Cyril's to choose.
He would be lying even more if he said that he didn't have the desire to come close and kiss the uninjured side of Zevran's face as a farewell, but he doesn't. He steps back, about to leave.
"Maybe that's why I still like you," he says instead.
"And why I am so terribly fond of you." He blows Cyril a kiss before he turns to leave, his own attention returning to the intricate trap laid out on the table.
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He just knows they also live in a world where you can't ask for that sort of understanding and expect it. Even the Clan had trouble seeing things from Merrick's perspective. Many had thought of him like a diseased limb, something to cut off and cast aside. It had taken so much work to show them that he was useful and worthy. He still going to try though, because it's better than casting everyone else aside and being suspicious of them.
Cyril knows that the work of getting people to give Merrick a chance starts all over again here. He's just hoping to limit some of the damage. Starting with making sure that Zevran doesn't trigger another breakdown.
"You can intervene without escalating," Cyril says carefully. "You can avoid comparing him to an animal. You can distract, or manipulate, or even come and get me." He pauses for a moment, taking a breath. He feels like he's had this conversation before and but he'll keep having it for as long as it's needed.
"He's not going to attack mindlessly. He's not an idiot."
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And they were not kind, not gentle, and by no means conductive to preventing the behavior out of anything other than fear for punishment.
"I take it the phrase 'mad dog' is one he has heard before and does him no benefit? I will avoid it in the future." Calling him a fool, though, that must still be on the table. "No, but he is easily goaded as we saw tonight- and not everyone in the tavern is as discerning a combatant as I. Humans are terribly stupid in the face of their prejudices, Cyril. It would not take much for one of them to do something foolish."
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"Thank you. Being compared to animals is something most of Our People can relate to, I'd think." Though Zevran has hit the nail on the head there, Cyril isn't going to give away more details about Merrick can he has to. It's enough that he at least gets it and is offering to not repeat it. "And believe me, the thought that he'll anger the wrong person is something that weighs heavily on me every day, but I have to trust him. He's not an animal or a child. He's my brother." And even more than that, but that's impossible to explain with words.
Then, after a moment, he chooses to change the subject a bit. Mostly because the only thing he thinks he could accomplish today has been done - Zevran has agreed to watch his choice of language and to limit the violence against Merrick.
"I apologize for the unwanted memories. I don't know much of the Crows but it sounds like it was... difficult to be among them."
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It is kind, terribly kind of Cyril to think of him as such, but much as he told Gavin he is no hero? He is no Dalish. Their world is not his own.
"Mmm? When you know nothing else? It does not seem so bad. But when you know there is more to life than being in a pretty cage?" He shrugs, seeing no reason to elaborate. He was a crow, now he is not. His life and choices are his own.
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"I can see what you mean." He thinks this is getting to be too serious and his chest hurts from worrying about Merrick. Instead of trying to harp on that, he defaults to saying something suggestive. "I'd only want to be put in a cage if I knew I could say a word and be let out again."
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He's pretty much going to be distracted by that for a while now, thanks Zev.
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For now, he still feels too wary to try and take Zevran up on any offers. It's important that the offer for the future is still there though.
"I think I've said everything I needed to for today, and you have a bite mark to tend to. Did you need anything else for that, by the way? I can try to make sure your tended to."
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How does he say this?
"It is...difficult on you as well, his troubles, his fits." For that is what it had been, a fit. How many times had he stepped in to do much the same for Taliesin in his youth, when his jealous rages would get the better of him? "Soothing him afterward. Playing the peacemaker. Begging patience and forgiveness for him. Is there anything I might do to ease that particular burden?"
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"I'm fine," he says, but it's not as short or tart as it could have been.
In truth, he doesn't feel entirely comfortable sharing any more details than that. At least not yet.
He doesn't take the hand either, but it's less an outright denial as still being a little wary. He isn't sure how Zevran will take to being shot down like that.
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But an offer has been made and in that, he can rest easy knowing he made the attempt. Anything more is Cyril's to choose.
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"Maybe that's why I still like you," he says instead.
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