He could hear her tending to herself as he sat and shook with the black anger that still gripped him, even as he had turned it inwards upon himself. How had he lost sight of how she had tried for him? How many times would he fall apart in front of her? How many times before it was too many? He could feel the ache of his hands and knew that Rory would give him that reproachful, worried blue stare again when he got home again; the one that hurt far worse than the physical wounds did. Even so it was Amalia who was with him now, and the weight of her gaze was almost more than he could face.
He had to, though. He would leave if that was what she wanted, but he feared if he did that it would be draw the strings between them too taught to bear. He had already strained them to limits he'd had no right to ask of the gentle baker, and though part of him resented this need to prove himself, to grovel and abase himself, it was a black, vicious part that he fought to overcome.
The eyes that met his were gentler than he had any right to expect, but her words were still forged of steel. He flinched back from them but held her gaze. She couldn't know, of course, that he had already received similar admonitions from Edrei and Ludo. That Edrei's last words to him had been no less harsh, but they had been lost in the trauma of her death. He drew in a shaking breath, nodding slowly. "I will stay," he agreed quietly, focusing on Amalia's burn to quell the rage that still flickered in his breast. "I came here because I wanted to see you again. That has not changed. Will you tell me what you have been doing while I have been..." He hesitated, a plethora of words leaping to crowd his tongue, each of them a partial truth, but none fitting quite right. "...hiding?" he chose at last with a faint wince.
He had to, though. He would leave if that was what she wanted, but he feared if he did that it would be draw the strings between them too taught to bear. He had already strained them to limits he'd had no right to ask of the gentle baker, and though part of him resented this need to prove himself, to grovel and abase himself, it was a black, vicious part that he fought to overcome.
The eyes that met his were gentler than he had any right to expect, but her words were still forged of steel. He flinched back from them but held her gaze. She couldn't know, of course, that he had already received similar admonitions from Edrei and Ludo. That Edrei's last words to him had been no less harsh, but they had been lost in the trauma of her death. He drew in a shaking breath, nodding slowly. "I will stay," he agreed quietly, focusing on Amalia's burn to quell the rage that still flickered in his breast. "I came here because I wanted to see you again. That has not changed. Will you tell me what you have been doing while I have been..." He hesitated, a plethora of words leaping to crowd his tongue, each of them a partial truth, but none fitting quite right. "...hiding?" he chose at last with a faint wince.
