His hand is warm. It always is. Every other time since he walked through her front door all those months ago that he's tried to tell her what he feels, she's never been able to accept for one reason or another. In disbelief or shock or anger or just the mere presence of others, it has always been too hard to acknowledge. In the months since the grove when her bitterness had finally abated, they had fallen into a carefully building comfort with one another. That care was implied, and felt.
Perhaps it is her loneliness, the stress of this sudden transition, or everything all at once - but now, finally, Astrid lets those words sink into her, to mix with her memories of all the other times he tried to tell her, and finally hold onto them in the moment. Her eyes blur with tears, and they streak silently down her cheeks as she closes her eyes, teeth clenched hard against the ferocity of emotion.
She turns her hand to take his in return, and whispers. "It is more than I deserve."
Once more, she meets his gaze, to finally speak a truth long held in.
"We never stopped wanting you back, Bren. There was never a day that I didn't think about you."
His fingers tighten around hers even as he lifts his other hand to brush across the track of tears left on one cheek. Whatever it was that allowed him to say these words and Astrid to hear them, he is grateful for it.
There's a smile, genuine, but with a tinge of sadness, at those words, at the sound of his name. In a kinder world, things could have been so very different.
"And that is more than I deserve," he answers, just as quietly.
Another squeeze of her fingers and he sits back, drawing his hands away slowly as he settles into his chair once more. "There are people I should introduce you to. Some of them are fascinating. There is one man I have been teaching magic. He has some talent for it." And he wants her to know Peter, too. And Vex, Vax, the rest of Vox Machina.
He's gone too soon. Far sooner than she's ready, but it's just as well. Just as important that he is here and all the things that he is, are all the things that he is not; not Wulf, not the man who has heard her story, not hers. Astrid finds her composure again quickly, pulling back from what feels like an edge. She sits back, pushing away the rest of her tears, taking a breath as a wisp of magic wafts gently across her face to clear away whatever's left.
Truthfully, the thought of meeting more people makes her feel tired, but luckily that is a problem for another day, and not an immediate requirement.
"Oh?" she asks, nearly as though the last few moments hadn't happened. Her cup floats back to her hands. "I assume you mean someone different from the boy who tried to threaten me in the woods."
He watches her pull herself back together, and isn't that familiar too? For as much as they both have changed, there are some fundamental pieces that feel like they may never really change all that much. He thinks it's a comforting thought.
His expression turns faintly sheepish, and he shakes his head. "No, I do not mean Peter. Magic in his world is an entirely different thing it would seem." A smile surfaces once more, subtle but maybe surprisingly warm. "He is... a bit protective at times. It is hard to fault him for it, given the pieces of my memories and fears that this place has dragged him through. But he is a good man, and very important to me." The faintest twitch of his little finger, as if tugging on some unseen string -- which is exactly what it's doing, that red soulmate string that is visible only to Peter and him that connects them wherever they may be. "I would like the two of you to meet... on better terms."
As Caleb isn't trying to hide it, it's not difficult to see that smile, or the warmth within it. It's one that conjures up memories of her own, ones she holds dear but has long accepted them as securely in the past. Still, she can only wonder at what it could be about the young man she had met in the woods that he's become so dear so quickly.
Her initial impression hadn't been good, protective intentions or no. Foolish and arrogant, in the way that youth often is.
She sips her tea, making a noncommittal, if unconvinced, sound.
"Hm. Sometime, perhaps. Is there anything in particular about the magic in this place I should know, if you care to share?"
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no subject
Perhaps it is her loneliness, the stress of this sudden transition, or everything all at once - but now, finally, Astrid lets those words sink into her, to mix with her memories of all the other times he tried to tell her, and finally hold onto them in the moment. Her eyes blur with tears, and they streak silently down her cheeks as she closes her eyes, teeth clenched hard against the ferocity of emotion.
She turns her hand to take his in return, and whispers. "It is more than I deserve."
Once more, she meets his gaze, to finally speak a truth long held in.
"We never stopped wanting you back, Bren. There was never a day that I didn't think about you."
no subject
There's a smile, genuine, but with a tinge of sadness, at those words, at the sound of his name. In a kinder world, things could have been so very different.
"And that is more than I deserve," he answers, just as quietly.
Another squeeze of her fingers and he sits back, drawing his hands away slowly as he settles into his chair once more. "There are people I should introduce you to. Some of them are fascinating. There is one man I have been teaching magic. He has some talent for it." And he wants her to know Peter, too. And Vex, Vax, the rest of Vox Machina.
no subject
Truthfully, the thought of meeting more people makes her feel tired, but luckily that is a problem for another day, and not an immediate requirement.
"Oh?" she asks, nearly as though the last few moments hadn't happened. Her cup floats back to her hands. "I assume you mean someone different from the boy who tried to threaten me in the woods."
no subject
His expression turns faintly sheepish, and he shakes his head. "No, I do not mean Peter. Magic in his world is an entirely different thing it would seem." A smile surfaces once more, subtle but maybe surprisingly warm. "He is... a bit protective at times. It is hard to fault him for it, given the pieces of my memories and fears that this place has dragged him through. But he is a good man, and very important to me." The faintest twitch of his little finger, as if tugging on some unseen string -- which is exactly what it's doing, that red soulmate string that is visible only to Peter and him that connects them wherever they may be. "I would like the two of you to meet... on better terms."
no subject
Her initial impression hadn't been good, protective intentions or no. Foolish and arrogant, in the way that youth often is.
She sips her tea, making a noncommittal, if unconvinced, sound.
"Hm. Sometime, perhaps. Is there anything in particular about the magic in this place I should know, if you care to share?"