"It is you who inspires me, Si'Wren. I have never forgotten you Si'Wren. Si'Wren, listen to me! Should I be forced to— to continue without you a day longer, now that you are of proper age and we have found each other again, I— I mean—"
Si'Wren had been staring up at him with eyes full of amazement, and when he faltered, she blinked, and came to a full, sudden realization of what had been happening between herself and this beaten-down wreck of a man called Habrunt, who though he be of ordinary stature, had a heart that would dwarf a giant's.
Overwhelmed, she nodded earnestly up at him. She reached up with her writing implements still in her hands, to carefully wrap her slender arms around his whip-scarred neck and pull him down to her. He held her, half leaning on his stick, and trembling as he kissed her proudly on the forehead, and then, after gazing deep into her eyes, he kissed her again -ever so tenderly- upon the lips, a long, burning, unbroken contact, putting a lifetime of pent-up passion into one searing eternal moment. If broken in body, he was still yet noble in spirit. Then they broke apart, and stood looking long into each other's faces with a newfound understanding such as rendered all of Si'Wren's lifelong torments but a chaotic dream.
Habrunt held her in his strong, gentle hands and looked at her, really looked at her. He searched her eyes again, desperately seeking something, and finally, crinkled his own in a willing expression of deep inner rejoicing.
"Do not fail to come back to me, Si'Wren," said Habrunt, becoming more serious. "If your heart has not cooled these many years apart from me, let no meddlesome soothsayer tell you that mine has done otherwise. Remember; if I do not hear from you soon, I shall come and petition the Emperor myself, and your own hand as Royal Scribe shall record it."
Si'Wren, still looking straight into his eyes, did not move in the slightest degree, and her face became luminous and radiant as she finally nodded, her eyes utterly lost within his.
"Good!" Habrunt said heartily, grinning self-consciously in spite of himself, and showing to Si'Wren a totally different side to the man whom she had always known before as being perpetually so stoic, just, and reserved. "It is good, Si'Wren! As your husband, I shall exercise my right as a free man to redeem you from your vow of silence. But for now, I think the royal procession is about to leave you behind!"
Si'Wren started as she looked suddenly around at the receding lines of the procession, and then looked back at him with eyes that lived for promises to come, of a new world with Habrunt together with her, and of vast far-flung visions of new life and of laughter, and yet in her eyes she also showed the apprehension of eternal loss already looming, and of anguish beyond the torments of the utterly lost, lest there be the remotest possibility of more than this one final separation.
Yet as he had said, it was time to go. Just like Habrunt, to be always so dutiful!
She put her things back in her saddlebag, and then turned and reached up to embrace him quickly. He swept his arms around her again, and held her tight, and she longed for the moment never to end. Then Habrunt let go again, and turned to her horse, to hold out a helping hand to her. Habrunt's back might be weak, but he gripped the saddle for support and showed that he intended to help her up. Si'Wren flashed a quick smile at him, and dipped down and gave a little hop as she got the sole of one tiny foot into one of his large hands like a makeshift stepping stone, and as he curled his biceps and lifted her in this manner she eeled herself up in one smooth, perfectly timed motion and swung her leg over.