Her hand stayed on his cheek, though Amalia had every right to pull it away, and he took strength from that, and from the questions that followed. They were stars shining bright as the Shield's mind, a combination of kindness and curiosity that defined the baker in his memory. He tilted his head slightly into her touch, remembering another visit to Safrin, and another time Amalia had been there for him. At least this time he had a few days of distance to take clarity from, and to calm the wounds laid into his heart. He hurt, yes, but he wasn't desperate...
And he had promised himself that he would be strong for her, as he always should have been before.
A hand lifted to rest over hers, cupping it lightly to his cheek as he drew a steadying breath and looked up again, masking the pain in his eyes as he searched her unreadable gaze. I learned... that I have been far too arrogant in my promises, he thought softly at her, mental tone tinged with a sadness he could not hide in the Attuned bond. That I am no hero, able to protect the ones I love. That I will not do everything in my power to do so, when put to the choice. That I have limits, however much I wanted to think I would never be forced to face them. His sigh was small and soft, a mere puff of warmth over Amalia's wrist. That I am not nearly so important as I wished to think myself. That I have woven illusions so skillfully that even I believed the lie for awhile... but Safrin tore those comforting lies away and made me see the truth... at least, as she sees it.
No villain, perhaps, but no hero either. Unimportant, unchosen, with nothing special to commend him to a goddess's attention or patience.
But Safrin was one of three, and hers was not the only opinion that counted. It was a comforting thought, as the light of Ludo's lantern comforted him, and he took strength from that as well as Amalia's patience. Safrin's displeasure might have been a curse, but only if he let it be.
And he had promised himself that he would be strong for her, as he always should have been before.
A hand lifted to rest over hers, cupping it lightly to his cheek as he drew a steadying breath and looked up again, masking the pain in his eyes as he searched her unreadable gaze. I learned... that I have been far too arrogant in my promises, he thought softly at her, mental tone tinged with a sadness he could not hide in the Attuned bond. That I am no hero, able to protect the ones I love. That I will not do everything in my power to do so, when put to the choice. That I have limits, however much I wanted to think I would never be forced to face them. His sigh was small and soft, a mere puff of warmth over Amalia's wrist. That I am not nearly so important as I wished to think myself. That I have woven illusions so skillfully that even I believed the lie for awhile... but Safrin tore those comforting lies away and made me see the truth... at least, as she sees it.
No villain, perhaps, but no hero either. Unimportant, unchosen, with nothing special to commend him to a goddess's attention or patience.
But Safrin was one of three, and hers was not the only opinion that counted. It was a comforting thought, as the light of Ludo's lantern comforted him, and he took strength from that as well as Amalia's patience. Safrin's displeasure might have been a curse, but only if he let it be.
