Ardbert doesn't speak but his heart lifts a little even as it hurts that Hythlodaeus is worried for him. He's such a good little egg. The little one has taken to spending time with him when he tends to the gravestones of his friends. Hythlo has seen tears and fussed before, and Ardbert has found his lap and arms full of a quickly growing amaro. It helped. Ardbert will be forever grateful for that little egg.
He lets Era use him for leverage and doesn't speak as she leaves with the little one. When they're away, he lets the tears fall, slumping back against the couch. None of this is fair. Era had asked him to be open-minded, and he had fought to be. He had won that battle for her and Hades.
Then Hades had been taken from them, and he was left with nothing. He had his beautiful door and sometimes Era looped the pendant of Hades auracite around his neck, but he had nothing distinctly his that wasn't rooted in one place. Ardbert still had Seto's feather in his inventory, not understanding how it had gotten there. Now he had little gravestones for his friends, which wasn't the same as memorials to carry around, but it helped in the right way. But for Hades, it wasn't just him that was grieving. Era didn't seem to want a constant reminder that he was gone beyond his shard of auracite.
Ardbert had thought of the little paper Amaurot but he couldn't disturb it, both in that it was as Hades left it and the fragility of the paper. Going through Hades things searching for something to secretly take was verboten. It felt wrong to even consider. He had barely gotten a chance to begin to know Hades, to begin to acknowledge how deep there was still goodness in that man even with Tempering.
He had expected himself to calm down some by the time Era had come back, but his eyes are still filled with tears. Part of him feels like he should be sobbing, but the rest is grateful that his hormones have settled his emotions back down to how he remembered they always were. All of him is grateful when Era climbs into his lap and hugs him.
"You're so good to me," Ardbert says with a loud sniff as he wraps his arms around her. "Is there something of Hades I could... carry with me? Something I'm not likely to break with these godsdamned clumsy hands of mine."
At this point, asking is the lesser pain for them both. Era already knows he's grieving. Giving her something she can do to help him helps them both.
no subject
He lets Era use him for leverage and doesn't speak as she leaves with the little one. When they're away, he lets the tears fall, slumping back against the couch. None of this is fair. Era had asked him to be open-minded, and he had fought to be. He had won that battle for her and Hades.
Then Hades had been taken from them, and he was left with nothing. He had his beautiful door and sometimes Era looped the pendant of Hades auracite around his neck, but he had nothing distinctly his that wasn't rooted in one place. Ardbert still had Seto's feather in his inventory, not understanding how it had gotten there. Now he had little gravestones for his friends, which wasn't the same as memorials to carry around, but it helped in the right way. But for Hades, it wasn't just him that was grieving. Era didn't seem to want a constant reminder that he was gone beyond his shard of auracite.
Ardbert had thought of the little paper Amaurot but he couldn't disturb it, both in that it was as Hades left it and the fragility of the paper. Going through Hades things searching for something to secretly take was verboten. It felt wrong to even consider. He had barely gotten a chance to begin to know Hades, to begin to acknowledge how deep there was still goodness in that man even with Tempering.
He had expected himself to calm down some by the time Era had come back, but his eyes are still filled with tears. Part of him feels like he should be sobbing, but the rest is grateful that his hormones have settled his emotions back down to how he remembered they always were. All of him is grateful when Era climbs into his lap and hugs him.
"You're so good to me," Ardbert says with a loud sniff as he wraps his arms around her. "Is there something of Hades I could... carry with me? Something I'm not likely to break with these godsdamned clumsy hands of mine."
At this point, asking is the lesser pain for them both. Era already knows he's grieving. Giving her something she can do to help him helps them both.