lumenrelegandus | IC Contact: Scorched (Lupin's forge)

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IC Contact: Scorched (Lupin's forge)

This is Remus Lupin. Please message me here for any questions regarding the Clinic or tutorials at the dojo.

If you have just arrived and know my voice, call me. I'll find you.

Sona si latine loqueris.*

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[Tilts his head to one side. Knows better than to let his tone get too gentle with Arthur; for some, a level of firmness is the ground, and softening equals falling. But there are too many entryways to this conversation and only Arthur can guide him to which is most important at a time, and in what order. If it's even only one conversation. Which…

So Lupin must settle himself at first to prod unhelpfully:]

Howso?

I remember too vividly. Completely unrelated things send me back to that place. I still dream of it.

[ His tone is hollow with these revelations. But there's bitterness there, because he can't fight monsters that only exist in his head, could barely fight them when they came back huge and real to Anatole. ]

It runs in my family, you know.

[Lupin can't help his voice going gentle, now. He hopes it doesn't make Arthur feel undermined, but there are only so many ways he can deliver statements like this.]

In my world— [not even: the muggle world, but that's an unnecessary and uninteresting distinction right now] —we call it Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Or, when war-related, shell-shock. When someone's been through a truly terrible event, it's not uncommon for them to experience too-vivid memories of it, even flashbacks, both waking and asleep. Full-sensory flashbacks, sometimes: sights, smells, physical sensations; it can be fully enveloping.

With awareness, and willingness to confront and work through the memories, it can be a temporary condition. It will fade with time. And I believe it is not the same as madness, nor even a form of it. Even when, sometimes, we can't understand why it's connected to one particular event rather than another, or we believe it's a situation we've already dealt with to its… explicable limit.

[ It is so relieving to be told that this isn't madness, isn't inexplicable, and isn't forever: three of Arthur's fears run through at once. And he's angry and grateful and embarrassed all at once. He starts to shake, and the tremors find their way into his otherwise calm voice. ]

I see. Thank you.

[All of those feelings make sense to Lupin as well. And of course he can pick up on all of them.

So he changes the subject.]

Which story did you read?

Le Morte D'Arthur.

[ He'd been feeling morbid, after all. ]

Shakespeare's better.

[ If they're going to change the subject, he'd rather it be to one which doesn't make him feel painfully self-deprecating and at odds with himself. ]

Well, you mustn't take that too seriously. It was written by a Frenchman in a jail cell and is pure poetic license. And surely our Merlin is even less like his literary counterpart; and we like him quite well for it.

[If anyone's like Merlin in that story to Arthur, mightn't it more be…? Living backward in time and all that. …Or was that T.H. White's version. You'd think they'd cover these in more depth at Hogwarts, but in fact these versions were thought of more as fanfiction than foundational texts.]

At least you'll understand next time I forget myself and use his name as an expletive. It's nothing personal.

Yes, I'm sure were I ever to meet Jesus Christ, some sort of apology would be required.

After what he went through, and what he preached, personally I can't imagine him actually caring about use of his name. …In idle remark. As justification, he might care.

Edited 2011-12-10 05:00 (UTC)

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