It never occurs to him that she could feel guilty for what has happened to her. That it would ever feel to her as some kind of personal failure—some letdown. It never once crosses his mind that he should be easing her own guilt, soothing her own soul, and thus he doesn’t say anything to it. He just holds her close, as if he could erase all the time stolen from their family. As though he could somehow rewind what has occurred and bring them back to the beginning, to the moments before it had all happened.
“Of course I found you,” he says, his voice still thick. “Of course I did.” But it doesn’t feel like an of course, not to him. It doesn’t feel like a given because, god, how long had he searched for her. How long had he been trying to pull her back to them. The tears spill then, sliding down his golden cheeks and illuminating his already over bright eyes. “I am so sorry it took me so long. I am still not used to this magic. I should have tried to find someone more experienced, someone better—”
He cuts himself off, swallowing hard, and then smiles through the tears.
It’s a gift that he has mastered over the years and he does it now, his expression softening as he swallows the pain down to settle in his belly. He would deal with it later, he thinks. He wouldn’t unload all of this grief on her to bear when she is already dealing with the aftermath of her own trauma.
“I followed the thread of you,” he tries to explain. “All of our family has one.” He flings his power upward and there is a tangle of bright lights threading together, a collision of color. Amongst them all is a single ivory one, brighter than the rest and he plucks it out as the others fade.
“Yours is the brightest. I just followed it home.”
As if it was that easy. As if he was that successful.
so as our grief falls flat and hollow upon a billion blooded seas
all our worst ideas are borrowed (you do and don't belong to me)
@Ryatah