"I believe it is, yes." His words reverberate with his purring; he feels like he could melt into the floor and be happy for the next hundred years.
"I want to try, not to have it as a weapon, but to have it as a counter-measure if it becomes necessary. I would rather have some measure of this skill and never need to use it."
Perhaps that is one reason why Igaes are so formidable; even with his lack of desire for power in itself, if it means he can protect what he cherishes the most from another kind of threat-- that instinct cries the loudest of them all.
"That said, yes. If I find that learning this skill will inflict harm upon my person, I'll cease immediately," he promises.
Perhaps it's because that Thrawn knows that Glenn will throw himself immediately into harm's way to defend him that he so gently insists (well, such as Glenn interprets it,) that Glenn not bring himself to harm in the process.
For so long, he's operated with the assumption that any damage done to his person is not only permitted for the sake of any higher calling, but deserved. And if nothing else, he values Thrawn's comfort over his own, and if that means that Thrawn doesn't want him to overextend himself to the point of injury, then that takes precedence.
Yes-- it is very safe to say that his love for Thrawn exceeds his own self-disgust.
And so this is why he promises.
Glenn offers his mate a gentle press of their foreheads, bodily vibrating as he purrs more deeply, and he reciprocates the hug he initiated.
Yes-- here, now, all he feels is love. His instincts think to reinterpret it as potential lust, but he holds that feeling down, despite the soft, sweetening scent that clings to his skin. He lets his instincts roll over and through him like the flow of a river over rocks.
If he were human-- this intimacy is all he would ever need.
And for the moment, he feels human, too.
"I love you," he murmurs, unbidden, voice soft and warm.
no subject
"I want to try, not to have it as a weapon, but to have it as a counter-measure if it becomes necessary. I would rather have some measure of this skill and never need to use it."
Perhaps that is one reason why Igaes are so formidable; even with his lack of desire for power in itself, if it means he can protect what he cherishes the most from another kind of threat-- that instinct cries the loudest of them all.
"That said, yes. If I find that learning this skill will inflict harm upon my person, I'll cease immediately," he promises.
Perhaps it's because that Thrawn knows that Glenn will throw himself immediately into harm's way to defend him that he so gently insists (well, such as Glenn interprets it,) that Glenn not bring himself to harm in the process.
For so long, he's operated with the assumption that any damage done to his person is not only permitted for the sake of any higher calling, but deserved. And if nothing else, he values Thrawn's comfort over his own, and if that means that Thrawn doesn't want him to overextend himself to the point of injury, then that takes precedence.
Yes-- it is very safe to say that his love for Thrawn exceeds his own self-disgust.
And so this is why he promises.
Glenn offers his mate a gentle press of their foreheads, bodily vibrating as he purrs more deeply, and he reciprocates the hug he initiated.
Yes-- here, now, all he feels is love. His instincts think to reinterpret it as potential lust, but he holds that feeling down, despite the soft, sweetening scent that clings to his skin. He lets his instincts roll over and through him like the flow of a river over rocks.
If he were human-- this intimacy is all he would ever need.
And for the moment, he feels human, too.
"I love you," he murmurs, unbidden, voice soft and warm.