What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.
He gives her no reply, though she’s not sure she’d expected one. Still, she offered her olive branch. There wasn’t much else she could do besides wait out the storm now. If only he knew just how she actually felt, though that was the sort of thing she could never really put into words for him. How she’d take all his pain in a heartbeat for him, if she could. How she’d push away the clouds that covered him, if there was some magic that would let her. How she’d tear the world down for him, if only that would bring him peace.
But she cannot find the words to adequately describe those things. She cannot describe to him how much she loves him, for there is nothing big enough to compare it to. All she can do is work on the leather in silence with him. Just them. As it should be.
Besides, if she fixed it for him, what would he learn? Nothing. She can imagine the lesson Straia might give to that, about how you have to let others fall down and pick themselves back up. You can offer a hand, you can help brush off some dirt, but when you see them about to trip on the ledge they haven’t noticed, sometimes it is worse to warn them. Sometimes you have to let them learn to pick up their own feet. But damn if it wasn’t painful to let them learn on their own. How their mother did it so easily, Weaver will never quite know.
But she cannot find the words to adequately describe those things. She cannot describe to him how much she loves him, for there is nothing big enough to compare it to. All she can do is work on the leather in silence with him. Just them. As it should be.
Besides, if she fixed it for him, what would he learn? Nothing. She can imagine the lesson Straia might give to that, about how you have to let others fall down and pick themselves back up. You can offer a hand, you can help brush off some dirt, but when you see them about to trip on the ledge they haven’t noticed, sometimes it is worse to warn them. Sometimes you have to let them learn to pick up their own feet. But damn if it wasn’t painful to let them learn on their own. How their mother did it so easily, Weaver will never quite know.
Weaver
