It was truly incredible what a simple hand could do, outstretched in comfort and support. Painful as the day had begun, and wounding as the memories of Safrin could be, Amalia's silent, steady presence beside him was a balm on the fresh cracks that had torn wider at the fear that she would pass him by. She listened and, if she judged, she held that judgment within. She was a little like a saint in that way, the bard thought fondly, even if Caido didn't have such things, and even though she would refute it if he made the observation.
She was still with him, in spite of the damage they both bore, and in spite of the words that had been spoken in the past. Never enough, never quite right to show each other how they truly felt. But he would come when she called - not always, as he might once have sworn before Safrin's lesson, but so long as he was able. And if he gave her the time and patience she deserved, she would be there for him.
He didn't protest when her hand slipped away, only settling back on his heels and drawing in a deeper breath, scenting the mix of young flowers that had blossomed all around them in the interim, renewed and revitalized by the emotional strength that had continued to fuel the magic dripping from his veins into the earth below him. He looked around in wonder as Amalia spoke, seeing the truth of her words mixed with the tentative resolution in his heart, and he nodded slowly in agreement. Her words were so wise that he couldn't help but smile, looking up at her with a tilt to his head. Her grandmother would be so proud...
"I'm going to ask you to help me say a prayer for Caiside and Isla," he said first. "And then... I'm going to see about rebuilding the Guild. There are portals to watch over, and a new region to explore... and bridges to mend with the Fae if we can," he added softly. But the shadow in his expression was momentary as he reached up, silently asking for her hand to help him stand. "But... I don't need to do any of it alone, do I?" The question was only partially rhetorical as he smiled up at the baker. "I could use your help, Amalia. You and Deimos... and everyone else whose willing and able."
She was still with him, in spite of the damage they both bore, and in spite of the words that had been spoken in the past. Never enough, never quite right to show each other how they truly felt. But he would come when she called - not always, as he might once have sworn before Safrin's lesson, but so long as he was able. And if he gave her the time and patience she deserved, she would be there for him.
He didn't protest when her hand slipped away, only settling back on his heels and drawing in a deeper breath, scenting the mix of young flowers that had blossomed all around them in the interim, renewed and revitalized by the emotional strength that had continued to fuel the magic dripping from his veins into the earth below him. He looked around in wonder as Amalia spoke, seeing the truth of her words mixed with the tentative resolution in his heart, and he nodded slowly in agreement. Her words were so wise that he couldn't help but smile, looking up at her with a tilt to his head. Her grandmother would be so proud...
"I'm going to ask you to help me say a prayer for Caiside and Isla," he said first. "And then... I'm going to see about rebuilding the Guild. There are portals to watch over, and a new region to explore... and bridges to mend with the Fae if we can," he added softly. But the shadow in his expression was momentary as he reached up, silently asking for her hand to help him stand. "But... I don't need to do any of it alone, do I?" The question was only partially rhetorical as he smiled up at the baker. "I could use your help, Amalia. You and Deimos... and everyone else whose willing and able."
