He wants to look sideways. Knows he shouldn't. Knows that any sign of familiarity that is not disgust could be dangerous.
He does anyway. It feels deeply wrong to see Fraysong muted and restrained when he was usually so full of sound and energy. He sternly reminds himself to keep his face blank and free of any signs of distress, because he isn't yet sure he can spin that distress as 'distress over seeing a hated enemy of the state' instead of 'distress at seeing a loved one tongueless and subjugated'.
"You missed one," he says finally, pushing a magazine out of alignment and not even being terribly sneaky about it. He's hoping it will read as a taunt to anyone watching rather than an excuse to stay near what's left of his moirail for a little while longer. "Fix it."
That's it. No whispered reassurances, no pleas for a sign of overt recognition, nothing that might get them both in trouble. He knows on instinct that the safest thing for now is to play along. That's the only sure way to keep the both of them alive.
no subject
He does anyway. It feels deeply wrong to see Fraysong muted and restrained when he was usually so full of sound and energy. He sternly reminds himself to keep his face blank and free of any signs of distress, because he isn't yet sure he can spin that distress as 'distress over seeing a hated enemy of the state' instead of 'distress at seeing a loved one tongueless and subjugated'.
"You missed one," he says finally, pushing a magazine out of alignment and not even being terribly sneaky about it. He's hoping it will read as a taunt to anyone watching rather than an excuse to stay near what's left of his moirail for a little while longer. "Fix it."
That's it. No whispered reassurances, no pleas for a sign of overt recognition, nothing that might get them both in trouble. He knows on instinct that the safest thing for now is to play along. That's the only sure way to keep the both of them alive.