Fjord sits up straight and guides Essek into the sanctuary of his shoulder where he can hide as much as he needs to, a hand running up and down a bowed back as another buries in short silvery hair. No platitudes are offered, no empty promises that everything will be okay, just support for a man who may have lost his home. Fjord may never have had one to call his own but he can imagine how, in the midst of a shining twilight city, surrounded by protective walls of his own making, everything was still always familiar whether Essek felt content or not.
If your people want to punish you, that must be one thing, but quite another if they don't want you back at all.
"You are not alone anymore," that's true. He speaks into soft hair. "For what it's worth, you never have to be again. We're here."
The catharsis intensifies as Fjord draws him closer, tucked into a gentle, steadfast warmth. It's a release of so many things; the lingering fears of what likely awaits at home; the anxiety of forgiveness, of failing the new expectations that comes with it, of somehow turning back down that road; the relief of reassurance, so simply given, of love still - in his mind - undeserved.
All that he has now is because of them. Because of this affection he hadn't even asked or looked for. But it was something that he had sorely needed.
It only lasts a few minutes, even if it feels longer. Finally Essek shifts away from Fjord's collar, damp now, eyes aching and throat raw.
"Sorry-" his voice is hoarse, unsteady. "do you-...is there a handkerchief, or something? I-"
A soft There, there is murmured into Essek's hair mid-way through the impromptu breakdown. By the time Essek is done ugly-crying and is sniffling instead, a snotty mess, Fjord reaches over for the tea-towel. Napkins and serviettes there are not.
"Here."
He continues to gently rub Essek on the back as the guy finds his equilibrium.
The towel takes care of the worst of it and lingering sniffles, and a quick wave of prestidigitation does the rest. He still aches, the worst of it moving to his temples now. Fjord's hand at his back is soothing, but Essek still shakes his head.
"Not really, no." He sniffs again, dabbing at his nose. "...maybe?...but I have a headache now."
He shifts away, floating upward and hiding another sniffle in the cloth. While things do feel less intense, everything seems to ache now, down to a dull, throbbing pain in his temples. The catharsis has left him feeling too drained to do battle with anything else.
"I don't want to keep you from your work." A vague gesture towards the food abandoned on the table. "Or your meal."
"Those aren't important. It's no trouble, and no one will interrupt us here if we hide out for a while."
He rises and rubs Essek on the arm as he passes, heading to the bed. It's just large enough for two people and Fjord tosses the various pillows and cushions toward the corner by the wall, shaking out a couple of blankets which, just like the rugs Avantika claimed from all over Wildemount, are a mismatch of styles. One of them is dark grey with silvery threads woven into purple geometric designs and, while beautiful, has been relegated (by Molly, most likely) to the bottom of the pile for its lack of bright cheery colour. The Dynasty design hangs with its tassels off the end of the bed, poking out, ignored out of habit as Fjord searches for the warmest blanket.
"If it makes you feel better, I can scroll on the device's network while you nap. I'll make sure no one urgently needs us."
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no subject
If your people want to punish you, that must be one thing, but quite another if they don't want you back at all.
"You are not alone anymore," that's true. He speaks into soft hair. "For what it's worth, you never have to be again. We're here."
no subject
All that he has now is because of them. Because of this affection he hadn't even asked or looked for. But it was something that he had sorely needed.
It only lasts a few minutes, even if it feels longer. Finally Essek shifts away from Fjord's collar, damp now, eyes aching and throat raw.
"Sorry-" his voice is hoarse, unsteady. "do you-...is there a handkerchief, or something? I-"
no subject
"Here."
He continues to gently rub Essek on the back as the guy finds his equilibrium.
"Feeling a little better?"
no subject
"Not really, no." He sniffs again, dabbing at his nose. "...maybe?...but I have a headache now."
no subject
Fjord pats Essek on the legs to prompt him to move, nodding to the bed covered in an assortment of blankets from all over Wildemount.
"It's just about big enough for both of us, if you're happy to share. Or I can work on my map some more while you rest up."
no subject
"I don't want to keep you from your work." A vague gesture towards the food abandoned on the table. "Or your meal."
no subject
He rises and rubs Essek on the arm as he passes, heading to the bed. It's just large enough for two people and Fjord tosses the various pillows and cushions toward the corner by the wall, shaking out a couple of blankets which, just like the rugs Avantika claimed from all over Wildemount, are a mismatch of styles. One of them is dark grey with silvery threads woven into purple geometric designs and, while beautiful, has been relegated (by Molly, most likely) to the bottom of the pile for its lack of bright cheery colour. The Dynasty design hangs with its tassels off the end of the bed, poking out, ignored out of habit as Fjord searches for the warmest blanket.
"If it makes you feel better, I can scroll on the device's network while you nap. I'll make sure no one urgently needs us."