Jamie closes his eyes as Cullen kisses his cheek. He doesn't answer until he opens them again.
"I have," he assures. "The tears were--they were a mark of the Duchy. The title that I seem to have taken for the duration of... whatever that was. The Duchy of the Icebound Heart."
He shivers just thinking of them, because he can never mention their cadre without thinking of Sam.
"Is that why we couldn't warm you?" It sounds decidedly unpleasant. As frustrating as it had been for him at times during the duration, he imagines it was much worse for Jamie.
"Or...or make you happy?" That hadn't frustrated but rather saddened him at the time. There were moments of cruelty when he seemed happy. He's fairly sure those weren't real happiness.
"I think so. It might've been the sickness, too." Jamie stays where he is as he talks, head resting against Cullen's shoulder. "The Duchy manipulates people... what I did was some weird combination of their propensity for stealing hearts and my own--I don't know. My own desperate desire for love."
He shrugs, embarrassed to say it. But Cullen at least deserves his honesty after what Jamie put him through.
He lifts his hand to sift gently through his hair. Yes, it makes sense when he puts it that way. It's odd to him, that despite all initial indications to the contrary, he has become very fond of him. He helped him through that awful realignment session with the condescending guard. Hopefully, he can help him in turn with this.
"I hope you realize I care about you a great deal," he says eventually. "You don't have to...to do anything to take it. It's already yours."
Jamie buries his face against Cullen's chest like he might smother himself there. It's funny to think that months ago this conversation might have seemed impossible. Such a rocky start for such a soft landing now. Jamie doesn't know what to do with the sentiment, almost afraid of it. What does Cullen mean by it? They're dear friends, certainly, but--
He pushes it out of his mind. He shouldn't wonder, just accept the sweetness offered, regardless of measure or intensity.
Especially after seeing who he'd been, he has a soft spot for him that is persistent and unlikely to go anywhere regardless of what happens, barring persistent abuse. He continues to stroke his hair for a little bit and bends to press a kiss to the top of his head.
"Spring is on the way. Here-ish. I know you must be excited. Do you have any grand plans?" He'd very much like to see him in his element.
"I should throw a party," he says after a moment, once he's gotten his voice a bit more under control. "We had them all through the season, but always something big revel for the equinox, which is when power changes hands, and then something else for Beltane. Everyone wanted invites to the Spring Revels, the Court really goes all out."
He misses it dearly by the sound of things. He sighs and rests his head on Cullen's shoulder.
"I'll have to see if Dorian will help me arrange something big. It'll be strange organizing a revel by myself."
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"Have you recovered? I was worried with the...the ice." That was something he hadn't been able to figure out.
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"I have," he assures. "The tears were--they were a mark of the Duchy. The title that I seem to have taken for the duration of... whatever that was. The Duchy of the Icebound Heart."
He shivers just thinking of them, because he can never mention their cadre without thinking of Sam.
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"Or...or make you happy?" That hadn't frustrated but rather saddened him at the time. There were moments of cruelty when he seemed happy. He's fairly sure those weren't real happiness.
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He shrugs, embarrassed to say it. But Cullen at least deserves his honesty after what Jamie put him through.
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"I hope you realize I care about you a great deal," he says eventually. "You don't have to...to do anything to take it. It's already yours."
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Jamie buries his face against Cullen's chest like he might smother himself there. It's funny to think that months ago this conversation might have seemed impossible. Such a rocky start for such a soft landing now. Jamie doesn't know what to do with the sentiment, almost afraid of it. What does Cullen mean by it? They're dear friends, certainly, but--
He pushes it out of his mind. He shouldn't wonder, just accept the sweetness offered, regardless of measure or intensity.
"Thank you," he murmurs.
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"Spring is on the way. Here-ish. I know you must be excited. Do you have any grand plans?" He'd very much like to see him in his element.
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He misses it dearly by the sound of things. He sighs and rests his head on Cullen's shoulder.
"I'll have to see if Dorian will help me arrange something big. It'll be strange organizing a revel by myself."