"Please, stay?"
Niniel looked at Soronume, and, almost, she wanted to tell him everything. About her night s, about her fears of never remembering who she really was. About how things would seem so familiar, but always the memory would be just out of her reach. She wanted to tell him all this, but her halting speech stopped her.
Instead, she fell onto his shoulder, and cried. Not simply tears, as she'd done earlier, but all-out sobbing. Within moments, the shoulder of his tunic was soaked.
Soronume let her cry for a few minutes, then led her gently to the well to wash her face and compose herself. And dry himself. When she was mostly calm, he led her back inside to the others.
"Did ye straighten 'tall out, then?" Mardath asked tactlessly.
Soronume Looked at him. "Sir. You will curb your errant tongue, or you will leave this table."
Mardath blinked once or twice, then nodded, looking almost abashed, for once. Elwen and Dorelnar had just finished telling him a very similar thing.
Elwen asked Niniel concernedly, "Are you all right, my dear?"
"I--I think s-so. Now."
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