[This isn't goodbye, here and now, so why does she feel compelled to speak, to tell him everything she should have said the first time they were parted but didn't have a chance? Ashe inhales deeply, cherishing his scent, his embrace. One hand lifts to cradle his head, stroking soft hair with the utmost tenderness. If he wasn't holding her, sorrow would surely have her knees failing; just as it had when she learned of his fate. The fate he would likely return to face.]
If we are returned - what of our son?
[She can barely see for tears, and closes her eyes against them.]
no subject
If we are returned - what of our son?
[She can barely see for tears, and closes her eyes against them.]