"I would love to see it with you," he said warmly, before the conversation turned to pain and shadows, and he gave her the story from his side, having no doubt that Deimos would have his own version of events, and both of them would be sincere in their recounting.
She could not meet his eyes, and his smile was sad as he gave a slight shake of his head. "He loves you, Ama. That, at least, is one thing we both agree on wholeheartedly. He would do far worse than just hurt me, though, if that was what was needed to protect you. For any other reason? No. But for you? Yes." That was the funny thing about love. It could make the world a wonderful place, bring out the best in people, and create miracles.
And it could make one do terrible things in its name.
His smile turned crooked as he tilted his head back, finding amusement in the depths of those shadows. "But I think he knows he would never have to, because I love you too. And he knows I will protect you if I can."
"And that was why I hesitated ask," he continued gently, shifting to sit up a little straighter at her side. "Because I knew you would come, even if it broke your heart and put more weight on your shoulders to do it. If no one else had been willing to join me, I knew you would be there. It's a gift I don't ever want to take for granted or squander, though." He reached up hesitantly, and then shook his head. Pushing himself to his feet he extended a hand to her, and would pull her up as well if she accepted it - up, and into an embrace that trembled with the blight, an embrace that was chilled instead of warm as skin should have been, but one that was fierce and tight and loving.
"I am a foolish, prideful man," he said softly against her hair, if she allowed the hug. "And you did what you needed to do for the sake of trying to fight the blight. You have been so much more than I ever deserved, dear one. And you have grown so, so much in the past year. You, of all people, do not need to apologize to me. I was the one who let you down, and you have only ever tried to hold me up. Please, Ama, let me help to hold you sometimes, too."
She could not meet his eyes, and his smile was sad as he gave a slight shake of his head. "He loves you, Ama. That, at least, is one thing we both agree on wholeheartedly. He would do far worse than just hurt me, though, if that was what was needed to protect you. For any other reason? No. But for you? Yes." That was the funny thing about love. It could make the world a wonderful place, bring out the best in people, and create miracles.
And it could make one do terrible things in its name.
His smile turned crooked as he tilted his head back, finding amusement in the depths of those shadows. "But I think he knows he would never have to, because I love you too. And he knows I will protect you if I can."
"And that was why I hesitated ask," he continued gently, shifting to sit up a little straighter at her side. "Because I knew you would come, even if it broke your heart and put more weight on your shoulders to do it. If no one else had been willing to join me, I knew you would be there. It's a gift I don't ever want to take for granted or squander, though." He reached up hesitantly, and then shook his head. Pushing himself to his feet he extended a hand to her, and would pull her up as well if she accepted it - up, and into an embrace that trembled with the blight, an embrace that was chilled instead of warm as skin should have been, but one that was fierce and tight and loving.
"I am a foolish, prideful man," he said softly against her hair, if she allowed the hug. "And you did what you needed to do for the sake of trying to fight the blight. You have been so much more than I ever deserved, dear one. And you have grown so, so much in the past year. You, of all people, do not need to apologize to me. I was the one who let you down, and you have only ever tried to hold me up. Please, Ama, let me help to hold you sometimes, too."
