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[Exhaustion is hardly anything new for Naltryd. The moment she decided to become an adventurer, she knew that life ahead of her wasn't going to be easy, filled with hard knocks and barriers to overcome. Granted, those many years ago, she hadn't an idea that adventuring would lead to her at the very edge of the universe, fighting to save her world--nay, every world. Her exponentially growing adventures over time had lead to no small amount of injuries and near death experiences, though none had come quite as close to this one. Had that teleporter not appeared out of thin air, she knows she would have died alongside Zenos.

(The thought scares her less than she would have expected, but she's grateful to be alive nonetheless.)

Her friends and the healers in Sharlayan alike have done what they can for her, fixing up the most grievous of wounds, but even magic can only heal so much. The rest is up to her own body and time. It was difficult enough being bedridden for several days, and she's still only allowed outside of the Annex for stints at a time as she recovers (she's pretty sure the combined will of Alisae and G'raha will keep her from even accidentally stubbing a toe). Still, there's plenty of people coming and going to see her and keep her company, at least.

The person she wishes to talk to most, however, is still asleep. Not as if she knows exactly what she wants to say, granted.

Emet-Selch is the last to have awoken, though her worries have been lessened by Hythlodaeus' insistence that he's perfectly fine, just needs to sleep a little. Still, there's uncertainty there, as she doesn't know where this road is going to lead exactly. She doesn't know where the first step is going to fall.

And so she sits there at his bedside, still-healing bruises and scrapes across the skin of hers that isn't still bandaged, thumbing through a book. It's difficult to focus; she's not sure if she can recall exactly what she read on the previous page, and her eyes keep flickering over to the sleeping Ancient in the bed beside her.]

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[ Hythlodaeus's eyes curve in a small smile - though his hold doesn't loosen. He has not exactly lacked for empathy, not with how much he Sees, and he can well imagine the pain that Hades has endured - at least some of it.

And he knows this was among the worst, for all he recognizes its necessity.

For all he forgives her. Perhaps even forgives himself. ]

They will be better, healing little by little.

And never again shall I allow anything to make enemies of us. Any of us.

[He doubts they really have to worry about anything more than simple arguments that are inevitable in nearly all relationships, but then...he never expected to have his will overridden by a conjured deity until it was too late.

He pulls both of them a little tighter, a gentle squeeze that says without words how happy he is to have them both here, in his arms. One he'd clung to hope of seeing again only out of stubborn sentiment, and one he'd feared hated him...the cynical part of him almost worries that it's too good to be true, but all the more reason to hold tight to them while they have this time of peace.]

Never again.

[She nods, hugging the both of them close. There's been enough people torn away from her; she won't let it happen again, and especially not these two.]

[ Hythlodaeus hums, and nods in agreement, before he gathers himself enough to form words. ]

I am quite glad about that, not that either of you need me to say it. Or to worry about me not doing my part to prevent such a thing. [ Slow, even breath. ] It will be all right, and you don't need to borrow trouble with thinking such thoughts.

We've all learned some lessons from it all. Even if it is that leaving Hades out of the loop might not necessarily be the best of ideas, however good it might seem at the time or who suggested it.

[He gives a heavy huff, and a firm not.]

It most certainly is not. Would that I had the opportunity, I'd have words for Venat about her decision to leave me to act the fool, when instead I may have been prepared for what was to come.

[She gives a little hum.]

I wasn't privy to what happened after I left, aside from glimpses of the Final Days itself, but... I wish there was a way to have made it all hurt less.

[ Hythlodaeus shakes his head and presses another kiss to Naltryd's temple. ]

It is not the gift of any of us to see into the future, remember? Nor Venat's. Each of us did what we thought best, and that is enough. We can not change the past - but we can look forward to the future, and certainly enjoy the present.

Well...changing the past has proven to not be entirely impossible, but 'tis yet unknown what effect it might have on the present.

[A sigh, and he shakes his head.]

On an entirely unrelated note, we ought to finish up, ere Hythlodaeus' fair skin comes to look like that of an old man.

Ah, I suppose we should. That would be terribly unfortunate.

[And she grins.]

[ A beat as the attention is redirected at him, and then out of reflex, his eyes widen and his lower lip juts the tiniest bit out. ]

But I'm comfortable right now...

[ It's not a whine. Nor a serious complaint. But it is fact.

Then a siiigh, and a corner of his mouth tugs up. ]

Any backs that do need to be scrubbed, before we rinse and dry off?

[Were it a serious complaint, it would no doubt have Hades reconsidering his statement. Instead, he gives a playful smirk in response.]

And you shall surely be just as comfortable once we return to our room. [Need he say more? Hythlodaeus, of all people, knows how filthy Hades' mind can be, when he allows it to be.] Before that, though, I could use a touch more scrubbing.

Of course, of course.

[She laughs, shaking her head a bit.]

I think that I ought to return to my room. Leave the two of you to your own devices, as I'm sure you have much to catch up on.

Mm. Perhaps, for now that might be well. But first... [ He does hold up the washcloth, holding another in his other hands. Neither need wait, all right? ]

I expect you have much to think about, yourself. To say nothing of resting whilst those wounds of yours finish healing up.

[There's a bit of a pointed emphasis on that last part, as he moves to face away from Hythlodaeus, shifting his legs under him to bring more of his back out of the water.]

Yes, yes, of course. But...well, I suppose I can linger for a few moments longer if you're offering assistance, Hythlodaeus.

[She gives him a little smile before turning around herself and maneuvering the same. Though it was already visible, more skin exposed shows that she's weathered her fair share of blows over the years, scars old and new littering her skin. It isn't as bad as it could be, at least, but it's clear that her last battle wasn't kind to her especially.]

That I am.

[ The hand holding the other washcloth clenches slightly around the small item, but other than a complicated-with-a-mix-of-sadness glance in Hades's direction, he doesn't give a discernible reaction. His help is gentle and thorough, and if Hades moves also he'll start on his back as well. ]

Rest should definitely be good for you.

[ The bath is, also, honestly, but - well. His concern is difficult to miss in his voice. ]

[He finds his own eyes drawn to the newer scars and wounds. While he's sure many of them came from the Endsinger, he knows Zenos is to blame for many as well...and likely the worst of them. As much as he loathes thinking about his personal relation to that family...he can't deny that it's likely his bloodline that made Zenos so terrifyingly powerful, by mortal standards.

He takes a breath, and forces his gaze away. There's no use dwelling...all that can be done now is to see to it that she has the time she needs to heal.]

And, of course, we shan't be far when you awake. Though, in the future, I do suggest knocking before you open our door.

Mnn...

[She can't deny that the washing up does feel nice, and she relaxes a bit further at it.]

Of course, of course, I wouldn't want to interrupt or gods forbid, one of the twins be standing behind me when I open the door at an inopportune time.

[Yes, Alisae and Alphinaud are young adults now, but they're always going to be her little siblings in her eyes.]

I've got some thinking to do as it is, perhaps some reading, and I do need to talk to Raha about a few things. You two will have plenty of time.

I think we will sort things out without anyone getting more of an eyefull than they should. [ Without people being tempted to burst into the room to check if something's wrong.

Hopefully. ]

And do take it easy, all right? There is time.

I certainly don't care to deal with scandalized remarks from any who don't know well enough to knock before entering a grown man's room.

[...Some soundproofing charms might be in order.]

And you, my dear...I do hope the rest of your recovery goes smoothly.

The Twelve know that the men and women at Camp Dragonhead had that set of manners absolutely drilled into them...

[Her comment accompanied with a little sad and wistful smile, but there isn't a lot of pain associated with the statement. Either or, she shakes her head, beginning to rinse any lingering soap off of her.]

Tataru ought to have sets of garments ready for the two of you by tomorrow, I would think. She works incredibly fast when she means to, and she seems very intent on making sure that you look as fashionable as the rest of us. The poor girl would be scandalized at one of us walking around in plain black robes, however that was your tradition back then.

[ Soundproofing charms are a must. And that's a promise.

Hythlodaeus's amusement tones down a little with Naltryd's sadness, and he makes a note to find out about Camp Dragonhead and what happened there. To know if it will be a good idea to speak with her, or to just to offer comfort when conversation reaches that part. ]

But black robes are so graceful!

[ Mock complaint again, but one has to admit the way the fabric moves is so satisfactory... but better fit in than remind people of Ascian Emet-Selch's attire. That is a part of their past that is better left to fade away. ]

[Camp Dragonhead...that's in Coerthas. He doesn't know many specifics about that area lately, he hadn't exactly been closely following Lahabrea's troublemaking. It's something he can easily look into later, though.

He does, however, tilt his head and raise an eyebrow at Naltryd's other comment. One of 'us'? She almost makes it sound like he and Hythlodaeus are going to be part of the Scions or whatever they're going to be, now that Primals are less likely to be a problem.]

I'd already planned on making myself something a little more distinctive, anyway.

Graceful, perhaps, but not what I'd call terribly fashionable these days. I'm sure that the two of you will look plenty graceful enough in a set of more unique clothes. I can already imagine a good set or three...

[Growing up as a weaver's daughter definitely gives her those instincts, and she looks them over with a nod. Perhaps she'll do some sketches sometime for Tataru...

She moves to squeeze the rest of the water out of her hair, shaking her head.]

[ It might take a while before Hythlodaeus takes to fashion in a more than academic sense. He can understand and even enjoy aesthetically, but applying it to himself is not a habit he has.

That's all right. They have time. ]

Oh? Curious as I am as to what we will be provided, knowing where your imagination takes us certainly is of interest as well.