She was young still, something he often remembered but sometimes forgot in her responsibility and dignity and courage. But then she would tease him and Rory, or kick her feet like a girl, and he smiled at her fondly as he reached out with a tentative hand to rub her back while she sighed and dreamed and wrestled with her impatience.
"You are adults, but I was your leader," he protested, but gently. "I did not force you to come, but it was still my responsibility to bring you safely home again. I failed in that, but--" She bumped against him and he caught himself from correcting her, instead shaking his head ruefully. "Ah, Amalia, who would I be without my guilt?" he mused, reaching around her shoulders to tug her back into a half-hug with a rueful smile. "I am so proud of you, dear one, for rescuing yourself," he murmured, pressing his cheek to her hair in a rare moment of open affection.
"You are adults, but I was your leader," he protested, but gently. "I did not force you to come, but it was still my responsibility to bring you safely home again. I failed in that, but--" She bumped against him and he caught himself from correcting her, instead shaking his head ruefully. "Ah, Amalia, who would I be without my guilt?" he mused, reaching around her shoulders to tug her back into a half-hug with a rueful smile. "I am so proud of you, dear one, for rescuing yourself," he murmured, pressing his cheek to her hair in a rare moment of open affection.
