It's just the trauma talking

"I'll be sure to have a whisper in Remi's ear, then," Ronin murmured, grinning at Ashe. "Right after I rub your face into the dirt tomorrow." It likely wasn't going to pan out that way, but hey - Ronin could dream, right? Ashetta wasn't the only one who had enjoyed keeping her skills sharp, and it was probably their rigorous training regime that had helped him improve enough to attain the role of captain in the first place. In the cosy light of the guildhall, speaking frankly like this, it really did feel like old times. The difference was that Ronin actually felt that something was going to come of the meeting he planned to arrange. He had been expecting a much worse reaction than he had gotten, in truth, as he brought up Alistair. The guildmaster's eyes softened, Ronin glancing away briefly as Ashe turned to her flask to deal with the reality presented before her. He shrugged off her reproachful tone, reaching out to slide the flask away once she was done with it, setting it to the side of the table. He cupped her hands between his own, gazing up again to meet her eyes. "It is not your job," he said warmly, "to make him free of you. That is his path to walk. You can let him walk it without cowering at every small sight of him." Ronin sighed, dropping all pretenses and squeezing her hands. "You are one of the most skilled women I have ever met, Ashe. And I have the pride of calling you something close to a sister. Now do your big brother a favour and stop trying to disappear. You are needed here. More than that, you are wanted." RONIN Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up on you.