For half a second, when Kieran looked away, Jude thought - stupidly - that he had won here, that he had managed to shut down this debate. He should have known better: when had Kieran ever conceded so easily? Ever conceded at all?
He ought to bear it patiently, ought to endure him gently until he was done and then forgive him and move on - because it was understandable, from where he was coming. But Kieran knew exactly what he was doing, and went straight for what stung, saw Jude tense up in an instant. Making things different - better - for werewolves. Hadn't he thought how much easier it would be? Of course he had thought; half his life now was spent dwelling on a question he had no real answers to - and if he had, he would not have been able to do anything useful about it, anyway. Jude got quiet when werewolves came up in discussion now, be it with their friends or strangers or in the Prophet, afraid that he would slip up and say something, too loudly, that would lead the world straight here - a little scared that Kieran would be listening, too, and tell him that he was wrong. And there was nothing more frustrating than not being able to do anything, and every month Kieran spent up in the attic was a cutting reminder of that.
It might have been different, if chance had splintered in reverse, and Jude had been the one turned. Maybe it was only a delusion, because he didn't know what it was like, but he - he thought he would have been open about it. Told the world, borne the brunt of it, tried to fight it that way. He almost wished it had been him. Did that make him a terrible hypocrite, for the thought of Kieran giving himself up for such a cause being so horrifyingly unpalatable in turn? Not that Jude would have ever suggested the idea, tried to talk anyone else into giving up the preciousness of secrecy for a life of misery and shame and public cruelty... but maybe once there had been the possibility, for Kieran.
Since last August, though, it was close to the worst idea in the world, and Kieran's sarcastic mention of the girl seared his anger to life. "Oh, yes, great plan," Jude snapped, forgetting the tea steeping steadily behind him. "And then they figure out who did, and then we still both go to prison - and they'll have just the scapegoat they've always wanted, and everything for werewolves will only get worse." He swallowed, and then said sharply: "Is that what you want? Are you trying to ruin your life?"
He ought to bear it patiently, ought to endure him gently until he was done and then forgive him and move on - because it was understandable, from where he was coming. But Kieran knew exactly what he was doing, and went straight for what stung, saw Jude tense up in an instant. Making things different - better - for werewolves. Hadn't he thought how much easier it would be? Of course he had thought; half his life now was spent dwelling on a question he had no real answers to - and if he had, he would not have been able to do anything useful about it, anyway. Jude got quiet when werewolves came up in discussion now, be it with their friends or strangers or in the Prophet, afraid that he would slip up and say something, too loudly, that would lead the world straight here - a little scared that Kieran would be listening, too, and tell him that he was wrong. And there was nothing more frustrating than not being able to do anything, and every month Kieran spent up in the attic was a cutting reminder of that.
It might have been different, if chance had splintered in reverse, and Jude had been the one turned. Maybe it was only a delusion, because he didn't know what it was like, but he - he thought he would have been open about it. Told the world, borne the brunt of it, tried to fight it that way. He almost wished it had been him. Did that make him a terrible hypocrite, for the thought of Kieran giving himself up for such a cause being so horrifyingly unpalatable in turn? Not that Jude would have ever suggested the idea, tried to talk anyone else into giving up the preciousness of secrecy for a life of misery and shame and public cruelty... but maybe once there had been the possibility, for Kieran.
Since last August, though, it was close to the worst idea in the world, and Kieran's sarcastic mention of the girl seared his anger to life. "Oh, yes, great plan," Jude snapped, forgetting the tea steeping steadily behind him. "And then they figure out who did, and then we still both go to prison - and they'll have just the scapegoat they've always wanted, and everything for werewolves will only get worse." He swallowed, and then said sharply: "Is that what you want? Are you trying to ruin your life?"
