Of course Sam was defending Remi, given their relationship, but... he was also right, and Jigano bowed his head in gracious acknowledgment. "If he was that close to Ronin, then perhaps you are right. And who knows what side effects the removal of his memories may be causing as well?" he agreed slowly. He still would have preferred the child in Phoebe or perhaps Vervain's care - someone who was a bit more prepared for it or had experience with it already. But it was not his decision to make, and given how little he had known Ronin, it was none of his business of the man's other friends chose to leave his daughter in the hands of a boy who likely had his own pain to deal with.
Hot tea on a damp spring day was a godsend, and he sipped it slowly, savoring the heat as well as the flavor. Alas, the topic of conversation was too dark to take much joy in the moment. He let himself speak freely to his friend, but the question he received in return earned a raised brow. "When did I ever say I wanted to join them?" he asked curiously. "I told you, oh, two or three times, I think, that I planned to witness and record the attempt from a safe distance - which I did. Rory..." He hesitated, then sighed, giving a little shake of his head. "There were a lot of speeches made that day. Rexanna, Maea, your sister... even Kalt. Many people were upset over what was happening, or rather, how it was happening. You were there," Jigano reminded his friend gently. "Sitting on the hill with the rest of us. And everyone is scared right now."
The sudden reassurance came almost out of the blue for the bard. He had never doubted Sam's friendship, though he'd sometimes been exasperated by his friend's attempt to control or forbid his actions. They had already spoken about that, though, and he'd thought the air was clear between them. A smile bloomed across a face that had spent too many hours in grim lines, and he nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Sam. I wasn't the only Outlander who disagreed with how the Spire was attacked, for what it's worth. But... well. What's done is done." He sighed, shaking his head. "All we can do is hope that Ronin's death isn't wasted and that a lesson is learned going forward so we can take the next steps more slowly, and in better cooperation between naturals and outlanders alike."
Hot tea on a damp spring day was a godsend, and he sipped it slowly, savoring the heat as well as the flavor. Alas, the topic of conversation was too dark to take much joy in the moment. He let himself speak freely to his friend, but the question he received in return earned a raised brow. "When did I ever say I wanted to join them?" he asked curiously. "I told you, oh, two or three times, I think, that I planned to witness and record the attempt from a safe distance - which I did. Rory..." He hesitated, then sighed, giving a little shake of his head. "There were a lot of speeches made that day. Rexanna, Maea, your sister... even Kalt. Many people were upset over what was happening, or rather, how it was happening. You were there," Jigano reminded his friend gently. "Sitting on the hill with the rest of us. And everyone is scared right now."
The sudden reassurance came almost out of the blue for the bard. He had never doubted Sam's friendship, though he'd sometimes been exasperated by his friend's attempt to control or forbid his actions. They had already spoken about that, though, and he'd thought the air was clear between them. A smile bloomed across a face that had spent too many hours in grim lines, and he nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Sam. I wasn't the only Outlander who disagreed with how the Spire was attacked, for what it's worth. But... well. What's done is done." He sighed, shaking his head. "All we can do is hope that Ronin's death isn't wasted and that a lesson is learned going forward so we can take the next steps more slowly, and in better cooperation between naturals and outlanders alike."
