[How he moves is less like there is thought behind it, more like it's a matter of instinct and habit. To follow Hythlodaeus' gentle guidance and comforting lead, to rest upon his lap, to lean into his form. It's true, the tears are quick to replace those wiped away, like the many mortal lives lost in the restoration of something more permanent...
This feels. Right. As it should. As it was always meant to be, yet there is an ache that does not and will not quit, even now as he hears, feels, and thinks of Hythlodaeus. His breath far from steady, but he releases no whimper, no sound beyond the quaver of the breaths themselves.
That is, until he speaks. Barely above a whisper, strained like it itself was carrying the burden that has bowed his back for his ages, fragile like glass.]
Of course I do. I have always trusted you. I always will trust you...
no subject
This feels. Right. As it should. As it was always meant to be, yet there is an ache that does not and will not quit, even now as he hears, feels, and thinks of Hythlodaeus. His breath far from steady, but he releases no whimper, no sound beyond the quaver of the breaths themselves.
That is, until he speaks. Barely above a whisper, strained like it itself was carrying the burden that has bowed his back for his ages, fragile like glass.]
Of course I do. I have always trusted you. I always will trust you...