RONIN
Remi presses against Ronin's wings and they fold more tightly against him in turn, the Huntsman resisting the urge to sag down to the ground like he so badly wants to. It has been so long since he's been hungover or sick that nausea is a strange and unwelcome sensation; swallowing hard, he reaches out to cup Remi's cheeks, as if to catch his tears before they fall.
"Then make sure Ludo keeps them, in case we can ever get them back for you," he whispers, leaning in to kiss Remi's forehead, blinking quickly not just for the loss that his husband will feel but not remember, but also the cold needle of fear in the base of his spine at knowing how close things had been.
"Why didn't she?" he wonders softly. "Wessex said something as she left, that we owe Isla your life. Did she do something...?"
"Then make sure Ludo keeps them, in case we can ever get them back for you," he whispers, leaning in to kiss Remi's forehead, blinking quickly not just for the loss that his husband will feel but not remember, but also the cold needle of fear in the base of his spine at knowing how close things had been.
"Why didn't she?" he wonders softly. "Wessex said something as she left, that we owe Isla your life. Did she do something...?"
a star in someone else's sky
