His eyes close briefly as a sigh escapes him and he is, he truly is. He wishes that he could take this burden off her shoulders, could free her from these responsibilities that chain her but it's beyond him. This is a destiny life has set her on, for reasons neither of them can understand and Liaran cups her cheek, presses his lips to her brow.
She aches with her anger and all he can do is be her rock again. Be her anchor, her home and he'll do that. Over and over as long as he needs to if it'll help. He means it when he says he won't go, the Keeper will understand. There will be other mages, Istimaethoriel isn't that old. They can always go back later, when all this is done.
"You're not a waste Isetriel." There's a note of fierceness in his own words as his eyes spring open and he won't let her say such things. "You never were, never could be and this... this..."
How to comfort her in words that will reach her ears. Will get through that stubbornness and he sighs, brow pressed to hers, hips pressed to hers, as close as he can make them.
"You have done so much, from what I've heard... helped so many, shems and those of the People too. Can't you see?" It's a chance, he supposes, to help all of the People, not just the Clan. An inspiration to see one of their own rise to such heights, even if it's a title that's been thrust upon her and he kisses her softly, sweetly, his words dropping to a whisper.
"I won't let them touch you ma vhenan. I swear it, no matter what."
no subject
His eyes close briefly as a sigh escapes him and he is, he truly is. He wishes that he could take this burden off her shoulders, could free her from these responsibilities that chain her but it's beyond him. This is a destiny life has set her on, for reasons neither of them can understand and Liaran cups her cheek, presses his lips to her brow.
She aches with her anger and all he can do is be her rock again. Be her anchor, her home and he'll do that. Over and over as long as he needs to if it'll help. He means it when he says he won't go, the Keeper will understand. There will be other mages, Istimaethoriel isn't that old. They can always go back later, when all this is done.
"You're not a waste Isetriel." There's a note of fierceness in his own words as his eyes spring open and he won't let her say such things. "You never were, never could be and this... this..."
How to comfort her in words that will reach her ears. Will get through that stubbornness and he sighs, brow pressed to hers, hips pressed to hers, as close as he can make them.
"You have done so much, from what I've heard... helped so many, shems and those of the People too. Can't you see?" It's a chance, he supposes, to help all of the People, not just the Clan. An inspiration to see one of their own rise to such heights, even if it's a title that's been thrust upon her and he kisses her softly, sweetly, his words dropping to a whisper.
"I won't let them touch you ma vhenan. I swear it, no matter what."