You have spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Perhaps you've made some friends (or maybe an enemy or two). Either way, you aren't expected to spend all of your time on the Station. El Nysa needs you, after all, and you promised you'd help the planet thrive. Are you ready?
Submit an AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 OLYMPIA REP POINTS OR 2 WYVER REP POINTS, respectively, HERE or HERE. THESA STATION
All refugees on the station are called to the hangar where a large-scale teleporter has been set up; everyone will be sent to the planet together. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait. Before they depart, all new refugees will be given a starter kit!
 You may have heard about earlier technical difficulties, but don't worry. I promise everything is in perfect working order this time. I'd say I tested it myself, but since that's not exactly possible, you'll just have to trust me! (Please.)
The older refugees will also be there to guide you to ensure no one is left confused... or behind. Make sure you wait for them — I've been detecting something odd so I'll be having them meet you at the landing site. Good luck, refugees! Not that you'll be needing it or anything...
The arrays begin to hum and glow, quickly building into a brilliant wash of light. It creates a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa. With the night sky as a canvas, the beam can be seen all the way from Olympia and Wyver — a view that has the natives whispering of blessings.
As a sudden but beautiful aurora splays across the sky, the refugees down on the planet receive a message asking them to travel to the landing site — and warning them to prepare for what may come of the strange readings Zasere's gotten from the teleport itself.
Traveling through the light leaves the impression of blinding starlight, a strange sense of weightlessness, and a disorienting moment of total sensory deprivation. The radiance of your teleport hangs bright in the sky above you, a shimmering aurora that reflects off the calm waters below, visible for miles all around.
You've landed on a peninsula to the east of the South Outpost. There's little here — scattered trees on spring-barren plains, with a few overgrown, dilapidated structures poking out of the brush. All is quiet save for the keening of animals and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. This lonely desolation is hardly the bustling cities and vibrant cultures you were promised back on the station...
BY CAMPFIRE'S GLOW. But waiting for you is a group of your predecessors, and with them, a veritable tent city, with portable stoves, coolers of food and drink, comfortable bedrolls, and cheerful rings of bonfires — all that you need to make merry of the night, courtesy of Overseer Voss, who has, thanks to his interest in blessed meteorological phenomena and refugees, decided to make a holy expedition of the affair.
Settle in, meet new comrades, and enjoy yourself, for you've safely completed your journey. But don't wander too far from the fires — the dark is closing in, and there's a strange, electric feeling in the air, the scent of ozone drifting on the breeze. And what were those odd readings Zasere mentioned?
A SHEPHERD OVER THE FLOCK. The spring sun dawns on a grey morning, already burning away the fog rolling in off the sea. It quickly becomes apparent that Voss and his entourage of acolytes have been up for hours, hard at work. They've set up a brightly-draped stage and a travel pulpit, magically enchanted to amplify his voice, and as the sun breaks over the horizon, Voss is all set to do what he does best: proselytize.
 As our Goddess has sent Her blessing once before to herald the coming of those touched by Her light, so She has done once again! Here you see them, those surrounded by the light of our Goddess, each of them bearing the mark upon their skin of Her holiest of hands! Do you not see? Do none among you bear witness to the righteousness of Her message? Perhaps this is why our people have shamed themselves in front of our Goddess—
[ He continues for another 15 minutes... ]
Nevertheless. See you them before us now! See them as they are, coming to our gates with Her reminder, that these people must be treated with the utmost respect and care. Thesa's divinity is not to be treated with such flagrant disregard! Those who She chooses are not ours to use as mindless fodder, to hurt, to torture — shame upon those who allowed such deeds to shame us under Her watchful gaze!
To those of you who have just arrived here on our doorstep, be not afraid! The Temples of Thesa welcome you to our home with hearts and minds open! Should you ever find yourself in need of solace, seek out the Temples, as there are no greater allies to you than those of us within the Temple walls. You are welcome all to Olympia!
As he steps away from the enchanted podium, he can be heard saying aside to an acolyte, "How was that? Heavy on the shame, but I think it went well!" While he will not leave the area immediately, his acolytes will politely turn away attempts to speak with him and remind anyone interested that they can leave a message at the Temples.
Despite going off without hitch, the new refugees' arrival isn't entirely without incident. It seems that the "blessed" beam of light that brought the refugees down to El Nysa brought something else along with it — a sliver of the Storm. At least the beam was short enough that only a small fraction managed to squeeze through.
But it's enough to wreak a little havoc around the landing site and along the road back toward Olympia and Wyver — and even, for a few days, in the cities themselves.
THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE. The Storm is an undeniably destructive force, and that's proven with this small sliver's effect as it ripples across the continent. While there's no visible sign of its presence, strange phenomena soon begin to appear, corresponding with Zasere's odd readings.
They're innocuous little things at first. A sudden silence, animals going quiet, insects stilling. All technology, no matter how advanced, ceases working. You discover when you check with a friend, the clock on your phone is twelve minutes slow even though you'd swear only a minute had passed — time missing. Walking through the woods takes longer than it should when brushing past one bush leads to brushing past that same bush again — and again, and again, the area looping on itself. It keeps you trapped, going in circles for minutes, even hours, before finally releasing you in a random direction.
Or perhaps you'll feel a sense of deja vu, like you've walked down this road, taken this turn, seen that bird fly from this branch before. This is the second time that cat has crossed your path. The person you're meeting, you already know their name; you're certain you've already met.
WE GOT COWS. The Storm sliver also ushers in sudden, localized weather anomalies — heavy storms, blizzards, strong winds, and more. Affected areas range from just a few feet wide to nearly half a mile. One minute, the sky may be sunny and clear, but the next dark storm clouds roll in, unleashing torrential rain. Small tornadoes surge along the road, kicking up winds strong enough to knock people over and carry objects away. Hail hurtles down from the sky, but only in a ten foot radius. Temperatures fluctuate wildly between one extreme and the next, from heat waves to cold snaps. Soupy fog blankets the area, thick enough that you can barely see your hand in front of your face. Good luck finding your way!
FORGETTING IS SO LONG. The visions come on suddenly and with very little warning. One second, you're carrying on as normal — but the next, you blink and find yourself (and anyone near you) somewhere else completely. You may recognize this place as a moment from the past, one that you lived through. It's a memory, your memory, and it now replays around you in exceptional detail, unnervingly lifelike. Or you may not recognize it at all. It might belong to the person next to you, or to someone else entirely — a memory that the Storm has swallowed up.
Either way, the scene plays out just as it once did, and there's nothing you can do to stop it — or escape it. The memory surrounds you to no end: every door you open leads nowhere, every hallway you turn down continues on forever, every horizon you flee toward hangs just out of reach. And linger too long or turn the wrong corner, and you may find yourself abruptly stuck in a completely different memory. It's almost tempting, then, to give up, to let the past sweep you away...
But this isn't the full might of the Storm. Look closely, and you can see that in the walls of this trap, there are minute, hairline cracks, a facade of fractured glass. Imperfections in the memory where the real world is breaking through. It seems the only way to escape these memories is to find those cracks and break through them — by force, by will, or by some other method entirely.
The time is coming to make a choice — perhaps not a permanent choice, but unless you want to spend the rest of your nights out under the stars, you'll need to pick which city you will initially spend your time in. On the horizon, you will see that people have arrived to help you make that decision...
A FORK IN THE ROAD. Refugees and the hyper-religious wishing to hear Voss speak are not the only ones out and about under the light of the aurora. Citizens of both Olympia and Wyver have flocked to a point on the road midway between the cities and where the refugees have appeared, and they all have the same goal in mind: convincing the newcomers who have just descended in the blessed light of Thesa to come to their city and not the other.
They've come with bribes — that is, examples of what their cities have to offer. If you spent much time at the exhibition up on Thesa Station, you might recognize some of what's being shown off, though the offerings here are markedly more tangible, and shown off by hawkers wearing substantially fewer clothes.
A herd of pegasi accompanies the Olympians, while a line of flying serpents is stabled at a tent bearing Wyver colors. Refugees are given the chance to experience solo flights and are told that if they prove their loyalty, they may have the privilege of owning such fine beasts one day themselves. The Olympians have also brought couture clothing, jewelry, and makeup to offer a taste of Olympian splendor, while the Wyver delegation has brought along fine weapons, sense-enhancing jungle plants, and small vials of diluted dragon’s blood (drinking confers a temporary boost in strength) to demonstrate their might. The Olympians speak proudly of the glory of the Temples of Thesa; the Wyverns speak of the Volkkran Pact and inform newcomers that they can make a pilgrimage to the summit of Namarak Mountain at the next full moon.
This is as good a time as any to compare your plans with others around you and exchange contact information before going your separate ways with people who are going to the city you are not. When you’re ready to go, don’t worry about safe passage — the natives of each city will gladly escort you there in luxury.
OF WHITE AND GOLD. The people of Olympia are ecstatic that you’ve come to join them... So much so that they’ve prepared a grand tour of the city for the new arrivals. You will be introduced to the major businesses in the city, including businesses that they are proud to point out were founded by refugees.
Refugees who have been here for some time already are encouraged to pair up with newcomers to introduce them to the parts of the city they like best. To facilitate this, they’ve made arrangements with many of the business owners: new refugees who visit their shops (and older refugees who escort them) are given discounts!
Just a few examples of many: the Wyvernest offers free desserts to first time visitors with the purchase of a drink, refugees who visit the Silk Wyrms can have one custom (though not exceedingly expensive) outfit made for them for free, and visitors to Shades Darker are offered a half-hour session with one of the prostitutes at half price… or access to a private room, if they seem to have taken a shine to one of their companions on the tour.
Lastly, tour guides will point out that over the course of the next week, the train to Flona Cove will allow new refugees to board for free so that they can experience the seaside for themselves. With the weather finally starting to warm, this is as good a time as any for a visit to the beach, isn’t it?
OF RED AND BLACK. Life in Wyver is typically a sink-or-swim sort of experience — but in light of the valor recently displayed by their predecessors, the natives are now more willing to assist in getting newcomers settled. The entire journey here they have been talking up the virtues of their city… and now is the time to show everything that's on offer.
The well-known businesses in the city are prepared for the influx of newcomers. Some are giving out discounted samples of their products while others are offering a more hands-on experience: in exchange for working a few hours, they will give training in whatever task is being performed.
At the Forged, newcomers can learn the basics of crafting simple weapons (and take one of their successes home), while visitors to spas near the lagoons are trained in the art of massage. Those who wander to Falmi’s Ring can learn the art of pugilism or how to keep (and fix) books if they're more inclined to the gambling that goes on. Newcomers interested in Wyver's dragons can get hands-on experience at the Fields of the Exalted's nursery. While they walk from place to place, a guide may point out a job posting from Highwind Hires, noting that refugees can make a name for themselves outside official channels.
The last stop on the tour is the Undergrowth. The guides speak of the jungle in reverent tones and caution new refugees not to wander too far in. They warn never to explore alone, but also urge refugees to take time to familiarize themselves with it; after all, the jungle is an important part of life in Wyver, and those who are going to be living here should understand it as well as they do.
You've chosen your path, refugee, but that doesn't necessarily make it a permanent one. Watch out for the strange effects of the Storm, which linger still in the two cities and everywhere in between for the next few days before dissipating just as mysteriously as they came, but otherwise enjoy the welcome and make yourself at home — after all, this is home now.
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Slaine Troyard | Aldnoah.Zero CW: torture...lots and lots of torture
[He doesn't want to remember.
It's a jarring experience, almost an out of body one, as Slaine finds himself watching himself give Asseylum his father's pendant. He watches himself wish her well, his gaze full of adoration and longing, before she then leaves the hallway, only to be replaced by a stern, frightening man. Immediately the end of a cane makes contact with his cheek, knocking him down onto his knees.
This isn't the only memory of his face or gut meeting the end of Count Cruhteo's cane. There are so many instances that they begin to blur together, making him feel dizzy and sick as he watches them all play out before him. It isn't just Cruhteo that makes Slaine the target of his ire. Other personnel on the Landing Castle orbiting Earth make a point to bully him whenever they get the chance. Filthy Terran, useless, scum and all sorts of insults seem to hit him, along with kicks or having his hair yanked nearly out of his scalp. There are glimpses of military drills, of piloting spacecraft, but despite the high marks he receives, he only seems to get picked on worse. There's a brief memory of him piloting a ship on Earth, of being called a Bat, only to be shot down to crash his sky carrier into the ocean. This goes on for sometime until the memories melt down to one that trumps all of them in terms of brutality and abuse.
It's outright torture, what he experiences, shackled and hung by his wrists from the ceiling of a room. He's electrocuted as he's interrogated for his actions, of going down to Earth by himself amidst the war. Why did he seek an audience with the Emperor? What did he know about Princess Asseylum's assassination? Count Cruhteo gets no answers, and in return for his insolence Slaine finds himself degraded, whipped, and gagged by the end of a pistol.
The memories have him clutching at his chest as he looks around wildly for a way out, for an escape from whatever this is, before the room changes into a place far more dark. It's dimly lit, and he watches, with rapt horror, as he moves to save his princess, to save Asseylum, only to watch her be shot.
He can't relive this. He can't do it. Hands clutching either side of his head as he tries back up, to remove himself from the memory he already replays in his dreams. Eventually he hits a wall, back to it, knees giving out as he slides down it into a crumpled heap on the floor. He can't breathe, panic having gripped him, the edges of his eyes wet.
Suddenly, it's not dark anymore. He's in the Princess' baths, a downed rocket having crashed in the middle of it all. There a younger version of himself hangs out of the contraption, dressed in a space suit, drowning from liquid in his lungs until a certain princess saves him. He feels like he's drowning right now, from the anxiety and panic that have fully taken over his body. Whatever's happening needs to stop and it needs to stop now.]
WILDCARD
[There are so many things to do and I'm down to do any of them. Just let me know and I'll be there or can write a starter for us!]
FORGET ME NOT
[Calm and collected, if slightly confused, Setsuna stood in stark contrast to Slaine before him. He had seen the boy, wandered through his memories as he was smacked, beaten, and tortured in front of him, no matter which corner he turned. He wished he could stop it, but this was something he wasn't able to intervene in, no matter what he tried.
But the Slaine before him now, this one was different. The storm of emotions radiating off of him were very real and very present, not a faded echo of scream let out ages ago.
Unfortunately for Slaine, Setsuna may be many things, but he isn't especially good at being comforting. At most, his expression softens slightly, but he doesn't offer pity or sympathy. He doesn't even know the boy even remotely well enough to even offer a hug or a hand on his shoulder. All Setsuna could really be was just a solid presence for Slaine to, hopefully, start to ground himself. They did have a more pressing matter to deal with, after all.]
We need to get out of here.
[They had a escape this past and head towards a future.]
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Perhaps that's the most jarring part of it all. Throughout all of this, every single memory? He's been on his own, fighting alone, with no one on his side or to back him up. To hear another voice, to hear we being used in relation to himself is enough to have him look up in Setsuna's direction. He feels overwhelmingly disorientated, but the sudden presence of another has him pulling himself back from his misery to try and focus.
They do need to get out of here...wherever 'here' actually is. Slaine would love more than anything to not have to be reliving any of this right now. But just how, exactly?]
I don't know how.
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We have to find the future.
Closed : You Watanabe
Too bad it's not exactly going all that well. The marshmallow he's currently attempting to toast has caught on fire, sadly falling into the pit to fall prey to a sad, charred fate. Oh well...he can always try again, can't he? It's then he notices that the person who seems to have the bag of new mallows is none other than the girl he'd saved back then, You. Brightening, just a bit, he moves to sit next to her, stick at his side. She probably wouldn't mind the company, right?]
Um, is it okay if I join you? I kind of ruined my last marshmallow...
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...it makes her miss Uchiura. Her sea. Her friends. Her heart hurts, and she'd give anything for Chika, or Kanan, or Riko, or anyone to be here.
She's so focused that she doesn't even realize that he's talking to her at first.] Huh?
[She looks over, and immediately tenses. It's... him.
He saved her, true, so she's not scared of him in the slightest. But he brings back painful memories. The sound of the gunshot so close, the smell of gunpowder, of blood. She bites her lip.
And shrugs.] ...yeah, if you want.
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She may not hate him, but the association of him to a painful event still exists.
Timidly, he reaches for the bag of marshmallows, plucking one from the packaging, sticking it on the end of the stick he's got.]
Thanks.
[Now what? He should probably say something...shouldn't he...but he's at a loss for words. Maybe once he's done cooking his marshmallow this time he'll have thought of something.]
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[It's debatable if she's had any at all.]
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Oh, um...thank you.
[He takes the bag from her, setting it on his lap, deciding to stick an extra mallow on the end of his stick just for good measure.]
It's been years since I had a marshmallow. I think the last time I had one I was eight or nine.
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I guess you must not camp out much, huh.
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Not really, no. I did a few times when I used to live on Earth, but I ended up moving to Mars.
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[He perks up a bit at that. Sure, living on Mars sucked, but she still knew what it was.]
You've heard of it?
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I didn't know anyone lived there, though...
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Mars has been colonized for a few decades now. The planet is, well, was I guess I should say..ruled by the Vers family after they established the Versian empire. If you'd like you can meet Princess Asseylum sometime. She woke up recently and she's quite friendly.
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ASSEYLUM LEARNS THE TRUTH!!!
It's Slaine's.
Count Cruhteo, someone she placed her trust in, who watched over her, guided her and displayed utmost loyalty to the empire, warps into another man, and it's so subtle that it looks like it could be a trick of the light. Perhaps it's in his face, or how he looms in a way he's never done to her with his heavy steps impacting the ground with measured, focused intent. It drills trepidation into her, and then, the cane cracks across Slaine's cheek.
She sucks in a shrill gasp, hands flying to cover her mouth as her eyes bulge in profound horror. He always had a severe personality, but never before had he demonstrated such cruelty.
The scenery fades; the brutality does not. Asseylum is forced to witness every whack that knocks him off his feet, boot that drives into him, and bruise that blooms on his skin that occurred right under her nose but out of sight. It's like flipping through a photo album of beatings, each a moving snapshot of just what kind of misery Slaine endured on a daily basis. And she had no idea. It rattles her world and drops her to her knees, trembling with the gravity of these horrific revelations.
And they just get worse, more obscene. Slaine, strapped in cuffs and strung up by chains: electrocuted, asked by Count Cruhteo why he went to the island, given another merciless zap treatment when he wouldn't respond. It's bad enough that Count Saazbaum, the man she now has come to recall organized for her death, suggests he stop. Feelings unfamiliar to Asseylum boil and rage within her as he degrades him.
We needn't show pity to a member of a lower race, Count Saazbaum.
Asseylem shoots to her feet, fists white and clenched to her sides. "Count Cruhteo! As Princess Asseylem Vers Allusia, I order you to stop this act of barbarity at once!!" she screams, barely reining her composure in. He doesn't listen. It's as though he's deaf to her pleas, or rather, like she doesn't exist. When that happens, she decides to take matters into her own hands: she dives for the woman with the control device to at least spare him any more shock treatments, but pins nothing but thin air into submission. It's like she's interacting with a hologram.
Defeated, she remains sprawled to the floor, wishing she didn't have to witness any more atrocities inflicted upon Slaine. As much as she wants to, she can't bring herself to avert her eyes to his experiences. They're his. They're... important.
A part of her holds out for the hope that it's all fabricated somehow, and that these are hallucinations dreamed up only now rather than the products of the past.
NO PRINCESS SHIELD YOUR EYES
That's the first thought that hits Slaine once he snaps out of the horror of reliving the slew of memories that seem to bombard them both. He's not alone like he had thought he was for a moment. How could he forget she had been standing right by him?
The horror of now knowing she's seeing everything, every hit, bruise, cane and slap he's ever taken is more terrifying than anything he's being forced to relive. There's nothing he can do, frozen in place, as he watches her react to things she never should've had to see or know of. He'd kept his scars and bruises hidden from her for a reason - ignorance was bliss and that very bliss is one he had wanted to protect for as long as he could.
She's crumpled on the ground, still watching the trainwreck of his life play out before the two of them. It's...unbearable. He doesn't want her to see this anymore. He'd rather take a thousand lashes from the end of Cruhteo's cane than have her watch a minute more of whatever this is.
Stepping behind her he reaches out to kneel down, placing his hands firmly over her eyes. She can feel his fingers tremble against her face, skin clammy and cool. He feels sick to his stomach and looks as pale as a ghost. He might as well be one for how dead he feels inside right now. His throat is dry when he speaks, head hanging to stare at the hem of her dress against the floor.
"P-Please...you don't need to see this."
Because if he has any idea where this is going, it's going to end on an even worse note than it started on.
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Mired in her outrage and empathy, her soft voice quivers in its mournful disbelief. "Slaine... is this... All of this... Did this happen to you?"
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It's not like what she's seeing didn't happen. Everything playing out before their eyes were pieces of Slaine's unfortunate past. It wasn't as if things could've happened differently or if she'd known she'd have been able to do anything about it. It feels like he's swallowing rocks when he speaks again, his hands still over her eyes.
"It's all in the past so please...don't concern yourself with it."
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Do it.
Slaine's anguished cry splits the air; Asseylum winces at the mere sound, her voice peeping out of her vocal chords unbidden in her horror. He's right; she doesn't need to see every lash inflicted upon him to understand. The grotesque picture has already been painted for her.
"No... I couldn't forget this, even if I tried. How... How could they treat someone this way, just because he's from Earth?"
Asseylum is on the brink of tears. Anger and hatred... Such emotions could be used as tools to shift war into one's favor. A conversation important to her echoes from the depths of her mind. Count Saazbaum, intercepting with how he would gladly hate a Terran simply for being a Terran. What he says is true: the Orbital Knights kicked him down any chance they got. What else could motivate them besides such a finely tuned hatred? Was this hatred drilled into them repeatedly, their frustrations taken out on Slaine, turned into a symbol for what they should fight against, when his only crime was being from Earth?
Weren't they all from Earth?
It's all so senseless! And yet, she's beginning to understand more and more. Slaine's hand becomes a slight bit damp as lower her lip trembles and protrudes.
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She can't forget it, but he wishes she would. Why is any of this happening right now? Just when things were starting to look up, when he thought maybe, just maybe, he'd be happy again...
"It's human nature, Princess...when one group of people decides to blame another for their problems, it breeds unnecessary hatred. It happens on Earth all the time. Different races hate one another, different nationalities, men and women, the old and young...as long as people are different, people will hate one another."
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"No... That isn't true. People can... People are fully capable of overcoming their differences. There doesn't need to be hatred if we could only take the time to understand one another! The Orbital Knights... They never wanted to understand you. And because of that, they..."
The lump in her throat gets to be too much. How can she even begin to put words to what Slaine has been through? What she has borne witness to? She's seen war, she's seen cities leveled, the cost of numerous innocent lives, and yet none of it unsettle her in quite the same way as seeing so much malice directed at just one person! Someone so young, someone so sweet and patient, someone so close to her heart!
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I believe so, Princess. Both Earth and Mars can live together in harmony!'
At least, that's what he used to believe. The troubling scene fades away to a far more intimate one, the two of them much younger than what they are now. It's a memory he holds dear, one that would be fine for her to see...but he fears taking his hands away still. He wants to shield her from whatever else might be thrown their way.
After everything he's gone through...he found it hard to believe in the good of others. Only now after having lived in Olympia for half a year did he find his faith in people begin to be restored.
"You're right...they didn't want to understand...but it's over now. It's in the past. You and I are here together now."
And to him that's all that matters.
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"...That may be so, but... I cannot even begin to imagine how such treatment has affected you. If I were beaten every day, for many days, it would surely have a tremendous impact on my psyche." At this point, she takes his wrist and uncovers her eyes. To her surprise, the scene has changed into a much more peaceful one, a fonder one that even she can recall. It doesn't wipe away the shock of the previous ones, but it does place a part of her at ease.
Compared to the brutality of the other memories, this one is so much kinder to him. Slaine's smile is soft, warm, unrestrained. He looks truly happy, talking to her as she listens with rapt attention. All of a sudden, she's grateful for the memories they made together, because if Slaine could not feel safe anywhere but in the sanctuary of her company, they held more value for him than she had ever known. This meaning crystallizes in her heart and she turns to look at Slaine with all the emotions this stirs playing in her soulful eyes, clutching her fist close to her chest.
"Slaine... I..." Without warning, she jumps into his arms, snagging him in a desperate hug to soothe the ache in her chest, to console the boy who knew more grief than she ever had. "I'm so sorry... I... I wish I had known...!"
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The look she gives him has his stomach turning before suddenly he finds her in his arms, squeezing him desperately. He's shocked, to put it lightly, returning the embrace after a moment of trying to register what's happening. Holding her like this, with her face buried against his chest...it fills him to the brim with so many emotions they threaten to spill over.
A hand moves to hold the back of her head and it's in that instant that he realizes just how close she is to him. To have her against him like this...he never thought possible, even if she's hugging him out of distress. It makes him happy and he's not sure he should feel that way.
"It wouldn't have done you any good if you had known, Princess...if anything, if you had tried to do something, they would've kept you from me I'm sure. So please, you don't need to apologize. You've done nothing but be kind to me."
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