BDP58
It took Ian twenty minutes to spill out the past five months. He held nothing back that pertained to his relationship with Moira, but some ingrained caution kept him from mentioning his assault on Casca or their theft of his data. It wasn't exactly healthy to know such things anyway. If Nottingham were caught, at least he would not have dragged his brethren into it.
Mobius let his brother talk without interruption. Once Ian wound down, Moby mulled over everything he was told. It wasn't what he had expected. After several minutes of silence he gathered his thoughts and began to speak. "So the reason you two are estranged is that you don't trust yourself, not that you've hurt her? I owe you an apology for earlier, but I can see I stopped to soon. I haven't beaten any sense into you yet."
One side of his mouth curled up in a smile. Mobius couldn't believe that Nottingham had so little faith in himself, or his beloved. Burke was obviously a smart and resourceful woman. He didn't doubt that she was capable of taking care of herself, so some of what Ian said just didn't wash. He intended to take him to task until it did.
"What are you talking about?" Ian took a step back, his ribs were tight and his thigh was throbbing where he'd taken that kick. He was not in the mood to go another round with the bigger man.
"You are afraid of something you haven't done, in spite of multiple opportunities. Believe in yourself, Ian. You are stronger than you know."
"How can you say that? I attacked Beck. I was out of control with Moira. Just because I didn't hurt her this time, doesn't mean I won't. I was rougher with her than I am comfortable with. When the cold light of reason returned, I was appalled." Ian paused and closed his eyes in remembrance.
"But," Moby began; only to stop as Nottingham raised a hand to indicate he wasn't done speaking. Clearly, his friend needed to get this out of his system.
"Maybe it wasn't on the same scale as what happened to the rest of you, but it is not how I would choose to treat her. When you love someone, it should be like the old tales. We should converse together, I would compose poetry in her honor, and I would kiss her hand. When I had proven myself worthy, she would allow me into her inner sanctum. We would celebrate one another, and consummate our love. It should be full of tenderness and mutual passion, like our first time together, not me falling on her like a ravening beast. It's a wonder she still speaks to me."
Nottingham opened his eyes as he finished speaking; the torment in them keeping his brother from making the flippant comment that had hovered on his lips. In the streets he had grown up in, romance and tender feelings had no place. Lust and mutual respect were the best you could hope for. Mobius had always told himself that it was better that way. Love was for suckers. There was less chance of pain or betrayal if you never involved your heart.
He had never known the things that Ian was mourning. Moby felt that he had thrown away something precious without ever realizing he had it. The feeling blocked his throat for several minutes. At last he found his voice, "True love, the kind they talk about in fairy tales, is very rare. I've never felt it, nor known anyone else who has. If you've found someone that makes you feel that way, don't give up on it."
"Do you think I want to give Moira up? She is the Moon. Without her, I dwell in darkness." Ian sighed. He knew his feelings sounded melodramatic out loud, but the phrase sprang from his lips unbidden. He hoped Moby wouldn't laugh.
Mobius didn't even crack a smile as he replied. Indeed, it never occurred to him, so serious was the moment. "Then fight for her. No matter what the impediment, even if the obstacle is something within yourself."
"How can you say that? If I go near her again, I could hurt her." Ian hung his head in remorse and shame. It hurt him to even think about what he might do.
"You have to have faith, my brother. Believe that you can do this," Moby stared at the bent head, willing some of what he was saying to penetrate. He'd never seen anyone just roll over and accept that they could not have something they desired so strongly. What was wrong with Ian?
"I'm afraid of the thing that takes over. It's me, but it's not. The hunger, the desire, they are my feelings, but they are twisted into something I barely recognize, and hardly understand. I don't know how you've come to make peace with yourself, why it is that you no longer fear. Was it something the priest told you?" Ian asked sharply, his face a tormented mask.
"Yes and it's not what you'd expect. He's an old soldier before he's a priest. We talked about the nature of war and violence, the effect of military conditioning, and the lasting damage done by denial. Then we talked about the spirit, and our connection with the universe. It was a very far ranging conversation, one that made me think. Do you know why I finally decided to trust myself again?"
"No."
"Because no matter what the drugs and the various therapies have done, they can do nothing but work with what is already present. Those feelings and behaviors are not wrong, just very primal. They predate the cultural mores developed to contain those emotions. Without those learned behaviors, we could not live in such close environs as effectively as we do. It is a part of our selves seldom seen, and even less frequently allowed free from the bars and chains of civilization."
"This rationalization helps you how?" Ian did not find this idea comforting in the least, nor was it an entirely new concept. The scientists at the lab had trotted out this explanation, and Moira had discussed it with him in the darkness of her apartment.
"These behaviors are not evil, just different. You don't know how much I feared that I had been possessed. I just couldn't believe that I was capable of something I'd been raised to believe abhorrent. It was my body, my brain, how could it subvert my will? Yet through my ignorance, I gave that part of me free rein. Now I know better. I can learn to control this part of myself, and I will." Moby squared his shoulders. If there was one thing he knew to be true above all else, it was that the will was the link to the universe. He would be in control of himself, because he so badly wanted to be. It was that simple.
"You think you can do that?" Ian asked, feeling hope stir within him. This was something he could understand. Fighting and being in control of himself were two things he excelled at. Losing control was what had frightened him so badly, to be honest. If it was just a matter of learning a new way to remain in charge of his body, that he could learn to do.
"I know I can, and so can you. Why don't you go talk to Moira tonight? I bet she'd be willing to help you work on it." Mobius smiled, almost wishing he could be a fly on the wall for that conversation.
"That sounds like an excellent suggestion. Thank you for everything. Even for the beating. I won't forget that you were willing to defend Moira's honor, even from me. There's more of the knight in you than you like to let on." Nottingham laid a companionable hand on Moby's bicep.
"Perhaps," was all Mobius was willing to say on the subject. The two turned and headed back to the lab.
It took Ian twenty minutes to spill out the past five months. He held nothing back that pertained to his relationship with Moira, but some ingrained caution kept him from mentioning his assault on Casca or their theft of his data. It wasn't exactly healthy to know such things anyway. If Nottingham were caught, at least he would not have dragged his brethren into it.
Mobius let his brother talk without interruption. Once Ian wound down, Moby mulled over everything he was told. It wasn't what he had expected. After several minutes of silence he gathered his thoughts and began to speak. "So the reason you two are estranged is that you don't trust yourself, not that you've hurt her? I owe you an apology for earlier, but I can see I stopped to soon. I haven't beaten any sense into you yet."
One side of his mouth curled up in a smile. Mobius couldn't believe that Nottingham had so little faith in himself, or his beloved. Burke was obviously a smart and resourceful woman. He didn't doubt that she was capable of taking care of herself, so some of what Ian said just didn't wash. He intended to take him to task until it did.
"What are you talking about?" Ian took a step back, his ribs were tight and his thigh was throbbing where he'd taken that kick. He was not in the mood to go another round with the bigger man.
"You are afraid of something you haven't done, in spite of multiple opportunities. Believe in yourself, Ian. You are stronger than you know."
"How can you say that? I attacked Beck. I was out of control with Moira. Just because I didn't hurt her this time, doesn't mean I won't. I was rougher with her than I am comfortable with. When the cold light of reason returned, I was appalled." Ian paused and closed his eyes in remembrance.
"But," Moby began; only to stop as Nottingham raised a hand to indicate he wasn't done speaking. Clearly, his friend needed to get this out of his system.
"Maybe it wasn't on the same scale as what happened to the rest of you, but it is not how I would choose to treat her. When you love someone, it should be like the old tales. We should converse together, I would compose poetry in her honor, and I would kiss her hand. When I had proven myself worthy, she would allow me into her inner sanctum. We would celebrate one another, and consummate our love. It should be full of tenderness and mutual passion, like our first time together, not me falling on her like a ravening beast. It's a wonder she still speaks to me."
Nottingham opened his eyes as he finished speaking; the torment in them keeping his brother from making the flippant comment that had hovered on his lips. In the streets he had grown up in, romance and tender feelings had no place. Lust and mutual respect were the best you could hope for. Mobius had always told himself that it was better that way. Love was for suckers. There was less chance of pain or betrayal if you never involved your heart.
He had never known the things that Ian was mourning. Moby felt that he had thrown away something precious without ever realizing he had it. The feeling blocked his throat for several minutes. At last he found his voice, "True love, the kind they talk about in fairy tales, is very rare. I've never felt it, nor known anyone else who has. If you've found someone that makes you feel that way, don't give up on it."
"Do you think I want to give Moira up? She is the Moon. Without her, I dwell in darkness." Ian sighed. He knew his feelings sounded melodramatic out loud, but the phrase sprang from his lips unbidden. He hoped Moby wouldn't laugh.
Mobius didn't even crack a smile as he replied. Indeed, it never occurred to him, so serious was the moment. "Then fight for her. No matter what the impediment, even if the obstacle is something within yourself."
"How can you say that? If I go near her again, I could hurt her." Ian hung his head in remorse and shame. It hurt him to even think about what he might do.
"You have to have faith, my brother. Believe that you can do this," Moby stared at the bent head, willing some of what he was saying to penetrate. He'd never seen anyone just roll over and accept that they could not have something they desired so strongly. What was wrong with Ian?
"I'm afraid of the thing that takes over. It's me, but it's not. The hunger, the desire, they are my feelings, but they are twisted into something I barely recognize, and hardly understand. I don't know how you've come to make peace with yourself, why it is that you no longer fear. Was it something the priest told you?" Ian asked sharply, his face a tormented mask.
"Yes and it's not what you'd expect. He's an old soldier before he's a priest. We talked about the nature of war and violence, the effect of military conditioning, and the lasting damage done by denial. Then we talked about the spirit, and our connection with the universe. It was a very far ranging conversation, one that made me think. Do you know why I finally decided to trust myself again?"
"No."
"Because no matter what the drugs and the various therapies have done, they can do nothing but work with what is already present. Those feelings and behaviors are not wrong, just very primal. They predate the cultural mores developed to contain those emotions. Without those learned behaviors, we could not live in such close environs as effectively as we do. It is a part of our selves seldom seen, and even less frequently allowed free from the bars and chains of civilization."
"This rationalization helps you how?" Ian did not find this idea comforting in the least, nor was it an entirely new concept. The scientists at the lab had trotted out this explanation, and Moira had discussed it with him in the darkness of her apartment.
"These behaviors are not evil, just different. You don't know how much I feared that I had been possessed. I just couldn't believe that I was capable of something I'd been raised to believe abhorrent. It was my body, my brain, how could it subvert my will? Yet through my ignorance, I gave that part of me free rein. Now I know better. I can learn to control this part of myself, and I will." Moby squared his shoulders. If there was one thing he knew to be true above all else, it was that the will was the link to the universe. He would be in control of himself, because he so badly wanted to be. It was that simple.
"You think you can do that?" Ian asked, feeling hope stir within him. This was something he could understand. Fighting and being in control of himself were two things he excelled at. Losing control was what had frightened him so badly, to be honest. If it was just a matter of learning a new way to remain in charge of his body, that he could learn to do.
"I know I can, and so can you. Why don't you go talk to Moira tonight? I bet she'd be willing to help you work on it." Mobius smiled, almost wishing he could be a fly on the wall for that conversation.
"That sounds like an excellent suggestion. Thank you for everything. Even for the beating. I won't forget that you were willing to defend Moira's honor, even from me. There's more of the knight in you than you like to let on." Nottingham laid a companionable hand on Moby's bicep.
"Perhaps," was all Mobius was willing to say on the subject. The two turned and headed back to the lab.