She didn't let go, holding his hand tighter for all that he had caused such a misunderstanding with his baseless fears, and her remonstrance managed to be both firm and gentle at once. He glanced up, amber eyes a little startled at her calm determination, and wondered if Hotaru realized how regal grace came so naturally to her. "I... then... thank you," Kel stammered, feeling the betraying blush of embarrassment - and no little pleasure - start to darken again, so that he quickly looked away.
But he carried her gift of worth with him as he did, feeling it bolster his confidence a little in spite of his own doubts.
A queen and an artist; a woman of many talents and many lives, worthy of ballads in her honor. He had no such skill with words, but given some paper and a bit of charcoal... well. He knew he could never capture the warmth of her, or the way she slipped from mischievous to queenly to comforting with the ease that the wind changed its tune through the cathedral, lilting and magical.
"We never had much, in the Grove," he admitted. "The dryads shaped and hardened sap for our window panes. Mostly... mostly glass was a thing of humans. Or other Hidden, I guess." Not that he'd been invited into the homes of many other Hidden, halfbreed that he was. But his ravenkin friend's cottage had windows of thick glazed glass, too, modest as it was.
Hotaru's laugh brought the smile back to his face, earnest and glad to have brought her some joy. "I... thanks," he said shyly, to the encouragement as well as the pat to his hand. "I'll try. If I can meet more people like you then... maybe I can." Friends, family... all that he had taken for granted in his life and still mourned the loss of. No one could take the places of those people, but maybe... maybe he could find a way to start moving forward again, instead of clinging to a past that was gone beyond his reach. Hotaru gave him hope, and inspiration to do more than just mope and drift along Fate's currents.
But he carried her gift of worth with him as he did, feeling it bolster his confidence a little in spite of his own doubts.
A queen and an artist; a woman of many talents and many lives, worthy of ballads in her honor. He had no such skill with words, but given some paper and a bit of charcoal... well. He knew he could never capture the warmth of her, or the way she slipped from mischievous to queenly to comforting with the ease that the wind changed its tune through the cathedral, lilting and magical.
"We never had much, in the Grove," he admitted. "The dryads shaped and hardened sap for our window panes. Mostly... mostly glass was a thing of humans. Or other Hidden, I guess." Not that he'd been invited into the homes of many other Hidden, halfbreed that he was. But his ravenkin friend's cottage had windows of thick glazed glass, too, modest as it was.
Hotaru's laugh brought the smile back to his face, earnest and glad to have brought her some joy. "I... thanks," he said shyly, to the encouragement as well as the pat to his hand. "I'll try. If I can meet more people like you then... maybe I can." Friends, family... all that he had taken for granted in his life and still mourned the loss of. No one could take the places of those people, but maybe... maybe he could find a way to start moving forward again, instead of clinging to a past that was gone beyond his reach. Hotaru gave him hope, and inspiration to do more than just mope and drift along Fate's currents.
