[ Reynir is quiet for a moment, considering Onni's perspective on the matter. Of course, the basics of survival are more important. Maybe, Reynir thinks, he doesn't see them as enough because he has simply lived a safer and more privileged life than Onni. He had not worried about having those things, while he was still with his parents, so he doesn't consider them enough.
But something in him can't quite believe that. Just because survival is more important, doesn't mean that a sense of belonging and ownership over one's home isn't also important in its own way. Reynir doesn't really have the words to articulate that feeling, though, so he merely shrugs and says quietly: ]
I don't really know why. But I think... it does.
[ His stomach twists a little, as he remembers finding Onni in that tree. Reynir thinks about how worried he'd been not knowing where he was before that. How relieved he was when Onni agreed to come back and move up to the attic. So, looking up from his cereal and into Onni's eyes, he adds: ]
And... I wanted to say that... I think the reason this place feels like it can be home for me is because you're here.
[ He doesn't say anything more, just lets those words out, lets them sink into the space between them. ]
[Perhaps this difference is to do with how privileged and safe a life Reynir had had growing up, sheltered as he was in Iceland, away from the Rash and shielded from the world's ugliness by overprotective parents. Beyond that, it might also be some side effect of how losing his family and home and community had left Onni feeling rootless and stuck permanently in survival mode, how it had stripped away some of his sense of self. Onni hasn't put much thought into it, into how that had affected him beyond the practical. He knows he has changed from what he was as a child and pre-teen, he knows that his priorities and outlook are different, but that is, in his mind, simply to be expected. The sentimentality of it is mostly lost on him, though, it seems obvious that a big event like that would change a person's life, and that taking on the care of two children would change a person's priorities.
None of it necessarily strikes him as a negative change. There is simply no home to feel ownership of or belonging in. For eleven years, there has just been a military encampment, work, and family. Tuuri and Lalli were what made him feel at home in Keuruu. But they're gone, now, and he still doesn't see the point.]
I suppose.
[It's carefully neutral. He doesn't have any more words to express himself or his thoughts on the matter and doesn't think it's important enough to continue pushing or debating. The rest of what Reynir says is more pressing anyhow, and one of Onni's brows raises.]
That makes sense, I guess. We are from the same world and have a common experience, in a manner of speaking.
[ Onni is right, of course, and that shared world is an important thing between them. At the same time, that's not really what Reynir was getting at. So he attempts to clarify. ]
But I don't think it would feel like home if it was, like, Mikkel here. Even though Mikkel's great, don't get me wrong.
[ Reynir brushes his braid off his shoulder, stirring at his cereal, a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth: ]
What I'm saying is... I'm just really glad you're here, Onni.
[For a moment, Onni is just quiet, looking at Reynir across the table while he parses both what he'd said and how he'd said it. That Mikkel was great but that he wouldn't be the same, and the way he says that he's very glad Onni is here with a small smile at the corners of his mouth.
It isn't as if it's about the ability to speak Icelandic or anything, Mikkel had spoken it better than Onni himself does. For a moment, he contemplates it, mouth pursed a bit as he picks at the fruit on the top of his cereal, flipping over a piece of strawberry and then scooping it up with a bit of grain. It's that connection, he thinks. The one that allowed Onni to hear Reynir through the dream realm, while he was awake, from two countries away when he'd cried for help. There is something there, and not even Onni can really deny it, no matter how much he refuses to talk about it or even think about it too much.]
Mm. I suppose it wouldn't be the same for me either, if it were someone like Siv, for example. Or even one of the other mages I knew from home.
[It's oblique, but it still is a reference to that connection, to the fact that there's some intangible thing between them that, despite his education and reading, even Onni can't quite understand or name.]
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no subject
But something in him can't quite believe that. Just because survival is more important, doesn't mean that a sense of belonging and ownership over one's home isn't also important in its own way. Reynir doesn't really have the words to articulate that feeling, though, so he merely shrugs and says quietly: ]
I don't really know why. But I think... it does.
[ His stomach twists a little, as he remembers finding Onni in that tree. Reynir thinks about how worried he'd been not knowing where he was before that. How relieved he was when Onni agreed to come back and move up to the attic. So, looking up from his cereal and into Onni's eyes, he adds: ]
And... I wanted to say that... I think the reason this place feels like it can be home for me is because you're here.
[ He doesn't say anything more, just lets those words out, lets them sink into the space between them. ]
no subject
None of it necessarily strikes him as a negative change. There is simply no home to feel ownership of or belonging in. For eleven years, there has just been a military encampment, work, and family. Tuuri and Lalli were what made him feel at home in Keuruu. But they're gone, now, and he still doesn't see the point.]
I suppose.
[It's carefully neutral. He doesn't have any more words to express himself or his thoughts on the matter and doesn't think it's important enough to continue pushing or debating. The rest of what Reynir says is more pressing anyhow, and one of Onni's brows raises.]
That makes sense, I guess. We are from the same world and have a common experience, in a manner of speaking.
no subject
[ Onni is right, of course, and that shared world is an important thing between them. At the same time, that's not really what Reynir was getting at. So he attempts to clarify. ]
But I don't think it would feel like home if it was, like, Mikkel here. Even though Mikkel's great, don't get me wrong.
[ Reynir brushes his braid off his shoulder, stirring at his cereal, a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth: ]
What I'm saying is... I'm just really glad you're here, Onni.
no subject
It isn't as if it's about the ability to speak Icelandic or anything, Mikkel had spoken it better than Onni himself does. For a moment, he contemplates it, mouth pursed a bit as he picks at the fruit on the top of his cereal, flipping over a piece of strawberry and then scooping it up with a bit of grain. It's that connection, he thinks. The one that allowed Onni to hear Reynir through the dream realm, while he was awake, from two countries away when he'd cried for help. There is something there, and not even Onni can really deny it, no matter how much he refuses to talk about it or even think about it too much.]
Mm. I suppose it wouldn't be the same for me either, if it were someone like Siv, for example. Or even one of the other mages I knew from home.
[It's oblique, but it still is a reference to that connection, to the fact that there's some intangible thing between them that, despite his education and reading, even Onni can't quite understand or name.]