He was not blind to the turmoil that his request was causing to his friend. He could read it in her body language and the way her gaze unfocused as she listened to his words, in the distance in her voice and the chill of her fingers as he wrapped his larger ones around hers, squeezing her hand gently as if to hold her anchored; offering his own heat to replace that which his words had stolen away.
Hadama did not rush to fill the silence, patient as the waves that hushed in steady rhythm beneath the Sugartide's keel and willing to wait as long as Flora needed him to. His gaze had already been weary, but a sadness came into his eyes as some of the weight that he had carried began to shift fully onto the shoulders of the young woman beside him, and he squeezed her hand lightly even as she smiled, bright and beautiful and brave in the Deepfrost light.
"You have more than earned pageantry. And I will only be disappointed if the fireworks are not shaped like... hm. I believe the tradition relates to chickens?" There, at last, was the twinkle of his dry humor as he raised his other hand to smooth a wind-tossed curl behind her ear, his expression softening a moment later with pride and gratitude. "There is no one who loves our home as fiercely and recklessly as you do, Flora. You are already the finest Queen Torchline has known. And this is not goodbye. I do not know how long this will take, but I will return. Perhaps before you even notice I am gone." He tilted his hand to cup a silken cheek in one broad, callused palm for a moment before he let it fall away, though he continued to hold the hand she had set in his as if, despite his words, he could not quite bring himself to let go.
Hadama did not rush to fill the silence, patient as the waves that hushed in steady rhythm beneath the Sugartide's keel and willing to wait as long as Flora needed him to. His gaze had already been weary, but a sadness came into his eyes as some of the weight that he had carried began to shift fully onto the shoulders of the young woman beside him, and he squeezed her hand lightly even as she smiled, bright and beautiful and brave in the Deepfrost light.
"You have more than earned pageantry. And I will only be disappointed if the fireworks are not shaped like... hm. I believe the tradition relates to chickens?" There, at last, was the twinkle of his dry humor as he raised his other hand to smooth a wind-tossed curl behind her ear, his expression softening a moment later with pride and gratitude. "There is no one who loves our home as fiercely and recklessly as you do, Flora. You are already the finest Queen Torchline has known. And this is not goodbye. I do not know how long this will take, but I will return. Perhaps before you even notice I am gone." He tilted his hand to cup a silken cheek in one broad, callused palm for a moment before he let it fall away, though he continued to hold the hand she had set in his as if, despite his words, he could not quite bring himself to let go.
