middaeg | [Closed]

Edelgard was similarly not without a sense of nervousness. She had little to truly hide from Hubert but to have to lay herself bare to anyone, even Hubert, was not a trifling thing. There were parts of herself she had sought to bury, to hide even from herself, things that would in all likelihood be shown to her vassal. She did not fear judgment, but a small part of her wondered how he would take her night terrors.

How would that work? Would he experience them as well, or just her sudden bursts of panic Could his logical mind truly cope with her at times irrational emotions? Could they afford to do anything different?

No. No they could not.

She studiously sat, turning the pages of a book in her lap, waiting for them to be called. What needed to be said? Little, as far as she was concerned.

They'd already spoken their minds on the subject, and it would do no good to rehash it. Besides, they'd already come to the same conclusion: this was a necessity, regardless of their personal feelings.

The door to the chamber creaked open, a human and an arachne emerging. Hubert eyes flicked up to the eight-legged Monster as he closed his fist, dismissing the conjuration. Some Monsters truly had it worse than others; that was a ghastly appearance, even by his standards.

A harried witch appeared in the doorway, stammering apologies and waving them inside before ducking back in. Hubert stood, sighing faintly.

"They certainly took long enough. Shall we?"

Edelgard's eyes widened slightly at the appearance of the spider-like being. She would never quite get used to such things, she thought. It had been nearly a fortnight and still some of the more outlandish monsters made her heart quicken.

Snapping her book shut and stowing it in a pocket, she rose and started towards the chamber.

"All things considered, I can hardly blame them. Let us get this done."

Stepping inside, she inclines her head to the witch and her partner gratefully

"We appreciate you taking the time to work with us. I pray this will be quick, and not too taxing for you."

Hubert follows her lead quietly, politely inclining his head.

"Oh, think nothing of it! Just so many things to do, so little me to do them!"

The Witch flits about, rambling on all the work to do. Hubert's eyes are drawn to the elaborate magic circle etched into the floor, deeper in the chamber.

The harried Witch takes a deep breath, then releases it after several seconds, shuffling over to the edge of the circle with only a half-convincing veneer of calm.

"Go ahead and take your places, dears. You have your oaths ready, yes?"

Edited 2019-10-22 18:02 (UTC)

Edelgard quietly walks to her assigned position, looking to Hubert with a steady and certain expression

"Yes, I do. And I believe perhaps my companion had his prepared days ago."

Knowing Hubert, the moment they'd agreed upon it.

"We said our vows to one another as children...this is simply a new level of bonding."

Hubert's subtle smile crooks up further at the corner. She's right, of course. In a way, he's had it ready since before then; as far as he was concerned, this was merely an extension of the oath that tied his destiny to Edelgard's.

The dark mage steps up opposite of his liege, holding out his hands palms up.

"Vows that I'll utter as many times as I need to, whatever our path may bring." Or wherever, as is clearly the case with this strange world.

"That won't do."

Hubert blinks as the harried Witch suddenly swats several times at his hands. "No gloves!" She chides, before shuffling back to her position just outside the northern-most point of the circle.

He frowns, turning a mildly questioning look to Edelgard, silently questioning if she was okay with that. Regardless, Hubert slowly plucks off his gloves, tucking them behind his belt, and again offers his hands, skin even paler than his face.

Edelgard almost steps forward to say something, displeased that the witch is pestering Hubert like that, but when she says no gloves...that stops her objection. She looks helplessly down at her hands, gloved as always, and then up at Hubert with some sense of resignation.

She doesn't like that, and he's right to give her the look, but it's Hubert. He's already seen her hands, he's one of the few. The sticking point is more the strangers.

"...I would greatly prefer if you and your companion would not...look too closely at my hands," she finally says aloud to their helpers. "It is a vain thing, but please?"

The harried witch frowns, but there's a softness in her gaze as she nods her understanding. Her partner does the same, though with a more quizzical look. It's then and only then that Edelgard peels off her gloves, tucking them into a pocket. The scars against her pale skin stand out, mostly small, but numerous and strangely shaped.

"...I am ready," she goes on, slipping her hands into the sleeves of her outfit for the moment. Perhaps it is childish, but it's an impulse she's never gotten over.

Edited 2019-10-23 07:09 (UTC)

He waits patiently, letting Edelgard set her own boundaries. Hubert breathes an almost imperceptible sigh as her hands retreat again; it can't be helped, and his sympathy runs deep.

"As am I."

The lines of the circle begin to brighten as their officiants set to work, the witch beginning to chant low to herself. Hubert could almost feel it, the flow and weave of magic under their feet, if he extended a thought to it—but his fascination could wait. The sooner Edelgard could return to her gloves, the better.

Hubert extends his hands further, until his fingertips all but brush her sleeves. Perhaps it would be better if she didn't have to reach too far into the open.

"My oath to you is the same as it always is, Lady Edelgard. I will always stand beside you, and tread your path wherever it may lead. I will do whatever I must to safeguard you, your interests, and your dreams until my last breath leaves me. When I first made this vow in my youth, it was born in a stalwart belief in obligation and legacy; you have long since earned my respect, loyalty, and admiration."

Hubert's smile quirks up a fraction, and almost with a ghost of exasperation as some of her words come to mind. "...and my friendship. I hand you these things willingly, and gladly; not as a Vestra to a Hresvelg, but as one individual to another."

A phantom prickle spreads along his skin as the magic flows from the circle through him, gathering in his fingertips like a circuit waiting to be closed.

Edelgard looks to the witch and her companion before stepping forward to meet Hubert. Her hands take his, and she gratefully notes that he didn't force her to reach out too much. She would, for this, but the shell she's constructed for herself is a necessary thing.

Quietly, she takes in the oath, inevitably rewriting her own words in her head to match the gesture. She has not once given such a promise to anyone save her father and country, and the words are strange in her head, but when she speaks them aloud she does not stumble.

"My oath to you, Hubert von Vestra, is to always support you in your personal endeavors, to stand alongside you should you wish or need me to follow you, and to offer you my trust, protection, guidance, and friendship. I swore as Emperor of the Adrestian Empire that I would serve and protect my people, and I included you in that oath, but here things are more personal. I once accepted your oath as a bewildered child might, not understanding the depth of commitment you had to me, and for a time I did not know."

She inhales, pausing long enough only to meet his eyes. This part is hard, but it's something she thinks he needs to hear.

"But as you and I grew and endured many hardships, I came to trust and admire you. I came to understand that I could trust you better than I trust myself. I could put my life, my well being, my trust, and my people into your hands and know that you would not disappoint me. You are as much a part of me as my limbs, and I would sooner die than live a life without your companionship. So I accept your oath, and return it likewise with my undying gratitude."

As she finishes, she feels the faintest snap of the spell as it closes around them...

Edited 2019-10-23 22:47 (UTC)

The contact alone is a lot to adjust to—that unfiltered feeling of skin, nerves already alight with electricity from the coursing magic. It wasn't as if he'd never touched another; contact merely always had a purpose, like tending a wound.

In a way, his Emperor's oath is difficult to accept. The trust between them had carried them this far, and was no mystery between them, but to hear Edelgard phrase it with such magnitude... It was intimate. Profound. It was the opposite of the carefully cultivated distance Hubert maintained around himself. Such utter confidence from from the person he held in awe—from the woman he'd come to harbor feelings for—warmed his chest, despite his attempts to hold it at arm's length.

His gaze remains steady as the magic encases them, pulling ghostly threads from his awareness and entwining them with his liege's. He chuckles.

"My, such eloquence... I'm honored, Lady Edelgard."

It starts subtly, the gentle flow of magic leaving his fingers, coursing into his companion—his Bonded. It's an odd sensation, but... vaguely relieving, like a tension he hadn't known he was carrying easing out, and Hubert makes a soft, curious noise.

Edelgard stood quietly as the magic took hold, but her eyes waver slightly, growing hazy as she looks up into Hubert's eyes. There's something in this that she has never felt with another being, a complete awareness of another person, and knowing how they felt...? It was both intimate and invasive, pleasant and panic-inducing, and so very, very Hubert.

She let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. Half relief, half consternation. Her cheese flushed slightly at his words...and at his feeling.

"No, I am honored. I had no idea you held me in such high regard," she murmurs softly, stepping forward so they can have this moment.

She'd even go so far as to hug him, if she were wearing her gloves. Sadly, her own horrible self-image wins out there. A thrum of loathing flits through her, directed entirely at herself, at her inability to move beyond such trivial things, and her childish desire to hide part of herself. It's quashed quickly, and she makes an awkward noise as she looks up at him, knowing instinctively that he felt that.

"It's...not you. I...you know..." she mumbles, a little shy but finding herself.

"This is pleasant, Hubert."

It was incredibly invasive. Not a simple knowledge of emotion, but something extant adjacent to his own consciousness, feeling it as it happens, and brushing against his own emotions if he's not careful to distinguish the two.

Over their years together, Hubert had refused to let Edelgard in. When she'd asked... he'd been closed off for so long, he truly had no idea how. That the Bond would leave him no choice in the matter, well—he'd be lying if he said it didn't leave him vaguely apprehensive.

"Really? Not an inkling?" His voice is teasingly dry. Edelgard could be focused to the exclusion of all else, sometimes, but Hubert really thought it obvious. "Mm. Perhaps I've been slacking on my resolution to keep no secrets from you."

But the Bond wasn't without benefits; that little flicker of loathing was telling in ways her words and mannerisms weren't. Perhaps it was just a symbolic gesture at this point, the rituals officiants having promised to mind their own business, but Hubert rotates his hands to cover the tops of Edelgard's, his larger ones hiding hers—a promise of shelter.

"...It is," he agrees. That adoring devotion gradually grows distant, returning to the metaphorical arm's length Hubert normally kept it, but it didn't disappear. That warm regard remains low and ever constant in the back of his mind.

"Perhaps an inkling, though I had no idea the depth," she admits quietly.

Lying to him was impossible before, and doubly so now. She hadn't ever really sought to hide parts of herself from her friend or her vassal, but Edelgard had her share of private thoughts as well. She manages to avoid making a noise when his hands go to cover hers, but inside there's a startled twitch, and then exasperation at herself for even needing that much.

When he mentally retreats, she closes her eyes and quests outward with her own sense, brushing against his mental self with the warm hug she can't give in the real world. She's always strove for mental control, and this at least came naturally to her. The sense she leaves, when she slowly pulls away, is one of intense gratitude, a veritable sea of appreciation for the person she's given her oath to. And she takes with her a kernel of his own warmth, the bond of loyalty they've shared for one another since childhood seeming to strengthen the tie they've just forged.

"We...should let the attendants bring in their next group. I'd like to sit and process this, though. A cafe, perhaps?"

This Bond would be quite the adjustment. That... impression and all its warmth leaves Hubert momentarily speechless. He'd been moved before by the way Edelgard had spoke, but to actually feel the magnitude of the sentiment behind those words was another experience entirely. What could he say to that?

But her next words draw him back to the moment, slightly embarrassed he'd received the mental hug as awkwardly as he might've a real one. Hubert quietly clears his throat, his own face coloring a little.

"Of course, Your Majesty." He pulls his hands away—the absence of flowing magic immediately apparent—backing up enough to offer her a precise bow.

When Hubert straightens up, he inclines his head to the closest Witch as his gloves slip back on.

"Wonderful," is all she can think to say as she straightens up and begins to pull on her gloves.

There's a practiced haste to the gesture, her eyes never looking towards the attendants. When they are on, a deal of her confidence seems to return and she bobs her head at last towards the pair and turns to leave.

"Thank you both for your assistance."

Stepping forward, she moves immediately towards the door, trusting that Hubert will follow...and marveling at the feeling of being able to tell his inclination to do so as it's happening.

Likewise, the acute awareness of the ebb and flow of Edelgard's confidence distracts him as he follows along. It's something he would've known regardless, both from their familiarity and her body language, but not-quite experiencing it secondhand is something Hubert never would have imagined possible.

Just what else was the odd magic in this world capable of?

Hubert's thoughts turn inward, idly musing about the nature of the Bond as they walked. The cold analytics of his mind examined it the best he was able, sharply noting the difference between Bonded and the lack thereof while the sensation was still fresh and alien. He still wondered about potential exploitation, but it was just that: wonder and scrutiny, rather than actual worry.

As they drew closer to the cafe, he noted a sheltered table—prudent, probably, with how intermittent the rains have been. Hubert drew a few cunes into his palm.

"The bergamot, or something else today?" Or earl grey—whatever name it bore here. The similarities between the two teas surprised him, considering how different the two worlds were.

Walking silently is something that they've never really struggled to do. Edelgard stayed close, not surprising, but as they walked and she turned her consideration inward, the more pleased she grows. It's a quiet sort of pleasure, a delight both girlish and adult at knowing what her companion is thinking almost as he is thinking it. Strange it may be, but a marvelous kind of strange.

Have I ever felt this tied to anyone? she muses. The answer is simply no. Not her father, not the Professor, nor any of their siblings or classmates. It was easy to see why people did this, too. She felt warmer, more grounded, and stronger than she had in days. There was fatigue, certainly, but not so much that she felt weary.

His question has her tilting her head. Was that a guess or...no probably, because she hadn't thought of tea yet.

"Yes. I think so. And a dark roast coffee for you?"

She didn't mind coffee so much, but she never had his particular fondness for the bitter drink either.

He hums a note of confirmation.

"I'll return shortly, then."

Hubert slips inside the little shop. They have more than enough money to be bothered by a small expense like this—as long as they didn't do so too often. It's in his nature to budget extremely conservatively, with what he considered the "emergency" fund making up a bulk of that budget.

He returns soon, easily balancing the two cups and a small plate with two slices of a bread with dried fruit pieces in it. The elderly woman behind the counter insisted they try it. It sounded like the sort of thing Edelgard might enjoy, anyway.

"Thank you."

Edelgard makes her way over to the covered table he'd noted earlier, settling herself there and running through her thoughts once more. And following him in her mind's eye, feeling him ebb as he drew further apart, and come pouring back as he returned to her side.

Her eyes light up a little at the sight of the bread, interest clearly there.

"Are those apricots baked inside?" she asks, curious.

"Indeed. Compliments of the owner."

Hubert chuckles softly, taking his mug in hand and leaning back in the chair. That sudden spark of interest that wasn't his was the most novel thing.

"From a tree she cultivates herself in a greenhouse. She seems quite convinced it will keep customers returning."

"Oh excellent. I hope they are good."

She plucks one off the tray and takes a bite, savoring the squish of fruit in her mouth. Her teeth weren't bothering her as much, but it was still not a perfect thing, and the chewy feeling helped alleviate a little of the pressure.

"She's not wrong. These are nice. A good compliment to the tea, though, I don't know about coffee."

She doesn't drink it enough to really know.

"Perhaps; it's difficult to say. I don't particularly care for sweeter things."

He isn't really interested in 'his piece,' but it was easier to accept it than fight the little old businesswoman over it. If nothing else, Edelgard could eat it later. He turns his attention out to the city, watching the morning light filter through breaks in the looming clouds.

"This part of the city doesn't seem too affected by the chaos. Probably its proximity to the Coven."

"Probably. They were very efficient at defending their own space."

She did not particularly care for how the Coven handled some things, that most of all. It was troublesome, how unprepared they had been for the chaos, and her emotions rankle inside without her meaning to show such.

"I broke up several gangs of looters personally," she says with a note of resignation, "and several attempts on refugees as well. I wonder if the mists brought that out, or if the city's tensions are boiling over."

"Is anything ever so simple as to have one root cause?"

Hubert took a cautious drink of the coffee—it wasn't quite how he was used to it, but it was close enough—and extended his hand over the table. The mist orb slowly swirls into existence once more as Hubert begins to run through his exercises again.

"The city is fracturing, pulled in all directions by assailants on every side. Small influences build like sediment, paving the way for larger floods."

They didn't have to be more experienced Mirrorbound to see that much, though the nuances might be lost on them.

"Mmm."

She nods her agreement, lifting the cup of tea to her lips and sipping on it, letting the liquid run over her tongue and warm her. It was autumn, and she had never minded the chill, but it was a touch harder to rise in the mornings since her arrival. Things she pointedly was not thinking about.

"The people are struggling with all the upheavals, yes. Dorchacht blaring the trumpets of war not that long ago, refugees arriving to escape a resistance there...to say nothing of us, the strange dreams, and the encroaching infection. Ill tidings in already troubled times, I agree. and little recourse for us to alter their opinions as outsiders. I wonder if the Coven and Parliament think as they do."

"Considering that the Coven is our sponsor, and most immediately benefits from our presence... unlikely. I expect the Parliament to sit halfway between the Coven and people."

He ought to be more concerned about the timebomb of the city's situation, but... in a way, it felt like more of the same, almost a continuation of their status quo of the last five years. Well, with one key difference. The corner of his mouth quirks of slightly, an odd mood flickering through him that falls just short of amused.

"It's... strange, not being privy to the finer machinations of local politics." Or having a hand in it. "I haven't been this uninvolved since I was a child."

"I feel likewise. I was not as close to the day to day politics as you, but intrigues have been our lives for a long time."

She mirrors his amusement, happy to not be the only one that feels a touch out of sorts. Just a touch, but it is odd. And a little refreshing, too.

"It's almost as though our lives are our own, for a time. I had not thought to see that day soon."

"Mm, if Your Majesty insists so," he says, in his usual dry tongue-in-cheek manner.

A novel concept—Hubert both looked forward to dealing with significantly fewer irritating people, but feared he wouldn't know what to do with himself. His life hasn't been his own in nearly twenty years, and it wasn't something he regretted even a shred.

Even now, there was much to do. Managing their shared home really wasn't terribly different from what he did before; though it was a dramatically smaller scale, there was far less he could delegate.

Until Edelgard pried the tasks from his hands, but that's beside the point.

"I'm thinking of adopting a familiar of some sort." His line of thought drew him to something else on his to-do list. "Since the Bond should mitigate any concerns of magical backlash, I see no point in forgoing an additional reservoir to draw from."

She would. Eventually. She was no better at remaining idle and she was already an inherently tidy person. Working with her hands would give her something good to do, and it would keep her occupied.

"A familiar?" she asks with a quirked brow. That didn't sound like a terrible idea, even without the practical aspect. It would give him something to care for, and also bring a little movement into their home.

"I can see the upsides, most definitely. What sort are you considering?"

As his thoughts turned towards animals, he decided to roll with it, carefully sculpting the swirling mist from its more boring shapes into that of an eagle. The more complex shape was fuzzier at the edges, but still distinctive.

"I haven't decided yet. I thought I'd be open to the possibilities, considering how... exotic some of the creatures here are, compared to Fódlan's."

Granted, most of those tended to be bigger, and he wasn't picking a turtleduck.

"That's understandable. There are quite a few strange creatures here..."

She remembers her flower-wolves after all. But, something does pop to mind at the sight of that eagle. The connection was a strange one, but Eagle and Lion.

"...Would you object strenuously to me getting a cat? Not as a familiar, obviously. But I would like one to take care of potential...rodent...problems. And I'm not certain I've ever asked if you were allergic to them."

"A cat?" That did make sense. Considering that this city was more populated and far denser than Enbarr... "No reason I can think to object."

Hubert's quite suddenly glad he'd decided to take over the cellar for his burgeoning alchemy lab, though he supposed a ward to repel a cat wouldn't have been too difficult.

"If I were allergic, I'm sure the Academy would've been far more unpleasant."

"Hah, true enough."

Though he'd never spent a lot of time around the animals, that she had noticed.

"Then, that is something I would like to do. It's important to keep our home rodent free."

A shiver of worry runs through her, at the thought, though it's brief.

"I know there are plenty of strays around, and given their nocturnal proclivities that I will soon share..."

It's still odd, feeling that shiver of worry run parallel to his sympathetic concern. Hubert makes an amused note, one that doesn't develop all the way into a chuckle.

"Strays, Lady Edelgard? Suffer not a rodent to live, but fleas are perfectly acceptable to invite in?" His mouth quirks up again, his voice taking a teasingly facetious turn. "Or is there some kinship to be found with their biting, as well?"

"They can be bathed," she retorts with a laugh and some real amusement.

"And it would be less expensive than buying one. Though, I suppose we have the cunes to get one from a shop."

It had been purely practical. But his amusement does push away that little bit of worry. Sometimes, it's good to be teased.

Edited 2019-10-30 05:58 (UTC)

The heavy armor specialist would make light of bathing cats.

"If you'd prefer to take charge of that, then do not let me stop you." Even if they both knew that if she asked, he really would bath the cat in question, even if he complained about it.

Hubert thoughtfully takes another drink of his coffee, the mist shape shifting to a feline. It's raw habit to break down benefits and drawbacks at this point, even to something so mundane.

"A stray would likely be the better hunter, but there's no guarantee it wouldn't roam away, or if it would be remotely agreeable. Fleas and other conditions are likely." He tilts his head during the brief pause. "You'd have a much better selection of healthy specimens from a shop, and probably your only choice if you want any degree of companionship from it."

Which... he honestly thought would do her good. Edelgard could benefit from a creature free of all social judgement, and one that would give her a chance to be a little softer, after everything she's hardened her heart for.

"Mmm."

Edelgard watches his mist-cat as she listens, quietly taking in his points as she always does. He is quite good at this, and he's clearly got a preference. His emotions give that away, but it's not that he's raising bad points.

"Yes, I suppose you are right on that. I will at least look into the shops and see if there's one that stands out."

She tilts her head to the side, giving him a slightly cheerful look.

"...Because I should like to have a companion."

Hubert's eyes flick up to meet hers; he smiles while holding her gaze for a moment, a rare one that touches the corners of his eyes.

"I don't expect finding you one will be difficult, Your Majesty."

The mist-cat curls back into a plain sphere at a twitch of his fingers, once again rotating through basic shapes.

"No?"

She sounds...and feels...even more amused. Tickled, even. Hubert's smiles were rare enough as it was.

"Have I a way with felines then?"

...She does, Hubert is most definitely a cat.

"Such wouldn't surprise me, given your multitude of admirable and expertly-honed talents, and your years of experience herding them. Surely our overly-qualified Emperor could find one suiting her exacting standards with ease."

It's not a difficult comparison to make, considering his nocturnal tendencies, ruthless and aloof nature, and perpetual alertness. Especially when he's doing the verbal equivalent of making eye contact and pointedly knocking something off the table.

"Oh...certainly. It's not as though I'm inexperienced. Keeping Bernadetta and Caspar in the same room during a meeting is a bit like that. To say nothing of others..."

In her mind, the image of Hubert flicking a tail back and forth comes through loud and clear.

"To say nothing of Annette and Linhardt..."

He chuckles.

"As I said. It should be a trifle. When are you expecting to make a selection?"

"Soon. Perhaps as soon as tomorrow. Today...I would rather spend with you."

They do have this wonderful new bond to explore.

Hubert blinks in surprise, the mist conjuration in his palm faltering as embarrassment flits through the Bond. He catches it quickly and it fades—not to hide it from their link, but to keep it distant from himself.

The whole day? That would be too much idleness for his tastes, but... considering that Edelgard had an undetermined amount of literal days left, he had no grounds to object. Besides, it wasn't as if the time would be unpleasant. His unending drive to be productive might itch at him, but it's a small discomfort to endure.

The mage closes his eyes for a brief moment, still smiling faintly. That warm regard, always at a constant low thrum in the back of his mind, grows a little brighter before it quiets again.

"Hah... Very well. What did you have in mind, Your Majesty?"

Ah yes, his drive to be doing things with his time. She could feel his embarrassment and his...yes, discomfort...that was discomfort...through their bond.

Setting down her cup, she leaned forward and smiled up at the blushing mage. That was a good look for him, she thought to herself, amused...but also with an idea in mind.

"I should like for us to begin scouting the city for ways to get out, outside of the main gates, for a start. In case there is trouble, knowing a way out is good. Also, I think there is a greenspace not too far from where that goblin market was set up. I'd like to head there and see if we can locate some herbs growing that might be useful for anything."

She really just wants to walk, get air, and enjoy the sun...but this is a way to keep him happy.

That amusement he felt in their Bond ran parallel to something sly, and it almost felt like he could abstractly track the thoughts as they formed. Even without that duality in the back of his mind, it wasn't the most convincing of reasoning—but it wasn't the worst, either. He appreciated the thought, anyway.

Hubert returns the smile, albeit a slighter one, far more composed than he'd been a moment ago. Perhaps because it was still so alien, Hubert wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to this... mental proximity.

"I see. We should be quite busy, then. The city is immense. Shall we get going?"

"Yes."

She rose, smiling still.

"Yes, I think we should."

He rose as well, deftly wrapping up the uneaten piece of fruit bread in a handkerchief and tucking it away in his coat. Hubert pauses just before stepping back out onto the street, considering Edelgard thoughtfully.

After a moment, the mage offers his arm with a quirk of his mouth. He'd play the part of companion, if it made his Emperor happy.

She takes his arm, wordlessly sliding into place with a soft chuckle. Yes, he knew what she wanted, he likely didn't even need the bond for that. But...she couldn't deny that she didn't want to be alone. Not now, or ever.

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