[ She touches him so easily, and for a moment it is as though he is not something poised and polished, a portrait to adorn some great hall of old, or the latest in a long line of many versions of himself, each more impossibly lovely than the last. And so, if his expression warms, she is only to blame, and in her quiet study of him he is unflinching, for hadn't he too looked upon her in such a way? It had little to do with sin, of course, and it is debatable if the Hero King at all knows how to partake of any such thing for himself. ]
It does. [ —he admits, unabashed, though perhaps not in the way she would like. In a mirror of her own gesture, his hand rises, gingerly and gently cupping her cheek as a delicate sweep of his thumb brushes away the sweat which trickles there. ] Devout as you are, your welfare concerns me. I would not see you burn to ashes so soon.
[ Which is why an incantation falls from his lips—may your strength be renewed, your weariness gone from you—the light of his blessing passing between them by way of touch, cascading over the whole of her like some holy shroud, ethereal and visible only to those with faith in their hearts. ]
If that is sinful, so be it then. [ He turns his head, then, nudging at the hand which still pinches his cheek. If she should continue to be so merciless, she will find that where a person's skin would redden under so prolonged a torture, Sion's... glows, in a manner most unexpected. ]
I, on the other hand, should like to know what in all the realms you think you're doing.
[ The coastal winds pick up errant locks of hair (both his and her own!), tousling them thoroughly, and oh, he cannot help but be amused, laughter finding him with ease. ]
no subject
It does. [ —he admits, unabashed, though perhaps not in the way she would like. In a mirror of her own gesture, his hand rises, gingerly and gently cupping her cheek as a delicate sweep of his thumb brushes away the sweat which trickles there. ] Devout as you are, your welfare concerns me. I would not see you burn to ashes so soon.
[ Which is why an incantation falls from his lips—may your strength be renewed, your weariness gone from you—the light of his blessing passing between them by way of touch, cascading over the whole of her like some holy shroud, ethereal and visible only to those with faith in their hearts. ]
If that is sinful, so be it then. [ He turns his head, then, nudging at the hand which still pinches his cheek. If she should continue to be so merciless, she will find that where a person's skin would redden under so prolonged a torture, Sion's... glows, in a manner most unexpected. ]
I, on the other hand, should like to know what in all the realms you think you're doing.
[ The coastal winds pick up errant locks of hair (both his and her own!), tousling them thoroughly, and oh, he cannot help but be amused, laughter finding him with ease. ]