He stayed bowed long enough to be respectful, but straightened before it could become obsequious, outwardly calm but inwardly tense, heart sped up enough to be audible in his eardrums. Deimos was stoic, giving little away, but the way he looked at the bard seemed almost thoughtful, and Jigano was just glad it wasn't outward anger. He schooled himself to patient silence, wondering with faint bemusement at how easily it came to him when he was with Rory, but how hard it was around so many others. Words weren't simply his weapons; they were his armor and his mask as well, and it felt strange to set them aside with someone he shared no intimacy with.
It was, however, the better choice than the alternative, and one which was rewarded with Deimos's rumbling word. It wasn't forgiveness; there was work to be done to earn that, if it could be earned. But it was a step in the right direction, and a far better answer than the alternative. Before Jigano could muster a response, however, the General continued, and the apology that was offered in return left the bard stunned and off-balance.
Something in him, petty and wicked, twisted in protest at releasing the grudge he had been bearing. It was a comfortable thing by now, well-worn and close-held, and Jigano drew in a slow breath as he marshaled his strength. Amalia's eyes and Kiada's smile. Rory's huff of exasperation and Isuma's confusion. Be better, she had told him, and he finally had reason to beyond his own guilt and demons. He exhaled the breath he had been holding, and with it he expelled the lingering resentment that the blight had feasted so eagerly on.
Or at least, it was a start in doing so.
"Forgiven," he said quietly, refraining from a third bow but offering a nod of his head instead.
It was, however, the better choice than the alternative, and one which was rewarded with Deimos's rumbling word. It wasn't forgiveness; there was work to be done to earn that, if it could be earned. But it was a step in the right direction, and a far better answer than the alternative. Before Jigano could muster a response, however, the General continued, and the apology that was offered in return left the bard stunned and off-balance.
Something in him, petty and wicked, twisted in protest at releasing the grudge he had been bearing. It was a comfortable thing by now, well-worn and close-held, and Jigano drew in a slow breath as he marshaled his strength. Amalia's eyes and Kiada's smile. Rory's huff of exasperation and Isuma's confusion. Be better, she had told him, and he finally had reason to beyond his own guilt and demons. He exhaled the breath he had been holding, and with it he expelled the lingering resentment that the blight had feasted so eagerly on.
Or at least, it was a start in doing so.
"Forgiven," he said quietly, refraining from a third bow but offering a nod of his head instead.
