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Aaron was finally beginning to still as Varis started to answer him, something about the familiar disdain in his master’s voice helping to ground him. Now that he was calm—well, calm[i]er[/i]—it was clear as day how his actions had been rash; in hindsight, even childish. He could understand Varis’ criticisms, he’d have probably metered them out himself in the same situation. Of course, the comfort of familiarity didn’t cushion him long, and shame started seeping in quickly. He couldn’t help but recall that morning he’d called on Maddie for help, assuring her he wasn’t a violent person at heart. But... was that true? Varis had a point; whether he was punching trees to burn off energy or fighting guards in a desperate attempt to help his master, he did seem to turn to violence to solve his problems more often than not. Maybe that was how he’d been taught—it worked well enough for Count Julian, the quickest and most efficient way to deal with stubborn obstacles—but Aaron would wager it had less to do with his upbringing and more to do with his own difficulty coming up with solutions any more complex than a quick left hook and jab. 

Of course, that made Varis’ proposal all the more daunting. He resorted to bloodying his knuckles on trees when his training schedule was only marginally reduced; how would he cope if [i]all[/i] of his outlets were taken away? If he couldn’t exhaust himself with training [i]or[/i] magic, he’d never be able to decompress. It would be his mother’s illness all over again, forced to ‘take it easy’ while his nerves were wound up like a spring, tighter and tighter with no release until the inevitable snap. He brushed his fingertips over the bumps of his scar, images of that night rushing back for the first time in months. He knew how that story ended, and it didn’t bear repeating. 

When it came time for Varis to answer his questions, Aaron couldn’t help but deflate. True, it was probably naive to expect Varis would let probably the lowest-ranked mage in his household in on his plots, but that he didn’t [i]trust[/i] him with those answers stung more than Aaron would have liked to admit. Varis’ reasoning was sound, Aaron had to concede that, but that knowledge couldn’t have possibly prepared him for what Varis said last. 

[color=f7976a][i]“I’m hesitant to believe you are fully devoted to me and my family.”[/i][/color]

Varis said it so casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but it was so devastating that Aaron actually gasped. The lump in his throat returned with a vengeance, and for the second time that night, he felt like he’d been bowled over. Varis didn’t think he was fully devoted to him? Aaron could handle not being trusted; there was something sad about the idea that Varis didn’t trust the only mage who shared his temporary home, but at least it was understandable. The other mages in Varis’ employ had a lifetime before service to show themselves trustworthy, but Aaron had only known Varis for four months; add in the fact that he came from a rival House and distrust, even for the first few [i]years[/i], was only to be expected. But to doubt his [i]loyalty?[/i] Aaron wasn’t sure any more potent insult for a Starag existed. 

From far away, he noticed that the water in his glass had begun to ripple, and he put it to the side with trembling fingers before he could spill it. He could feel tears building up behind his eyes, but he forced them back. Sun and stars, of [i]course[/i] Varis questioned his loyalty! How couldn’t he? What had he possibly done over the past four months to prove otherwise? Goodness, Aaron could scarcely count the slights: showing up at Revel as some kind of Noilan mascot, consulting the Princess before his own master, lying—and those were just the ones Varis [i]knew[/i] about! Not to even consider the secrets he’d kept, both revealed and as yet hidden; he was practically living a double life of split loyalties with Princess Ryner, keeping all this Ellmare nonsense quiet. Fuck, he’d even bargained with [i]Eris[/i] just to get out of obeying a direct order! Of [i]course[/i] Varis didn’t trust him, of [i]course[/i] he questioned his devotion. He’d be a fool if he didn’t. If Aaron could see himself from an outside perspective, he’d count him among the lowest of the low, and he’d be right! 

[color=f0d705]“You’re right, Master, since I got here I’ve done nothing but sneak around. I’m not surprised you don’t trust me,”[/color] he said, questions forgotten in the face of this devastating news. He let his head drop even lower, too ashamed to even let Varis see his face. He’d been struggling with the idea of being discarded for far too long, like a child clinging to a blanket, and even with Varis repeatedly trying to help him, he couldn’t seem to get it through his head that turning his loyalty to the House that accepted him was smarter than pining for the one that threw him away. 

When he finally raised his head to look at Varis, the shame on his face was tinted with determination. It seemed so clear now: Thinking his master dead was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He was tired of playing two fields, tired of keeping his secrets straight, tired of comparing his new life to his old one. His old life didn’t matter; if the Noilas wanted him gone, then he would waste no more energy trying to please them. This was the night he’d finally pick a side. He served two masters no longer, and he would see this tormentous duality put to an end. [color=f0d705]“I won’t waste your time with empty apologies, Master. Even I recognize that it would be an insult to expect forgiveness. But it isn’t right that you be forced to live with a mage you can’t trust, so please,”[/color] his voice had to strain around the lump in his throat, but there was no doubt as to his sincerity. [color=f0d705]“What can I do to prove my loyalty?”[/color]
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