Whatever sign appears before her to encourage her to take up arms against the cruel injustice of the world, Cera would never assume it to be his own presence. He would go to her the moment she called him, still bore the faint scars of the proof of his dedication to her. But he was hesitant, fearing her disapproval, her rejection. The memory of her stoicism and dismissal of him, her truthful criticism of how he had failed her as a friend and fellow member of the Throat, would not abandon him so easily. Indecision was not born from his own bitterness towards her, but rather overly fearful that he would not be a comforting presence to her in this dark time, no matter how badly he desired to be. If only so he could lend her the strength to make it one more step, one more hour, one more day. Because while they never seemed to see enough of each other, Cera loved her deeply, and losing her would tear what little was left of his heart since Ranjiri had left. 

Except she does not turn him away, this fragile buttercup of a beauty, as beautiful and delicate as the flower itself. Even her companion, the iniquitous creature Ilaria had become so enraged with, dipped a gentle greeting to the Prince that the Golden returned silently, watching him depart with a vague array of emotions. His main concern - his main priority - was Sikeax. She melts into him, as if the heat of his body does not bother her on this scorching day, as if he brings benediction through his very presence. And his heart aches but he cannot deny her, even if he believes her to be deluded to imagine he is anything so grand. If he can be her savior, then he has brought to grace one person more than Cera ever believed himself capable of doing. 

His wing drops, instinctual, crowding her closer until the space between their skin no longer exists. He tucks her in like a child, curling his long body around her entirely as if to physically shield her from every dark, blackened thing that had ever hurt her or ever would. So close, he can hear the whisper of her exhalations as she speaks, the soft clack of her teeth as she enunciates her words. They all make up who she is, and he treasures them as if they were precious gems, for he basks in her rarity so little these days. 

No matter how far down she has fallen her humor is unmistakable, and it is a measure of her strength that she is capable of it at all. Cera's smile is sad at the corners, in the dark crevices that acknowledge that this is no laughing matter, but he is smiling nonetheless. "Whatever the doctor prescribes," he teases, voice soft so he will not overwhelm or deafen her with how he has pressed himself indulgently against her. Hoping for union, to tuck her into the safe, sheltered space between his ribs where she may live and be loved forever. Unharmed. Capable of being the woman she always should have been, the one she is capable of becoming if fate would simply give her time to breathe. 

But his regret is a stinging thing that lashes his tongue into motion, lips brushing idly against her cheek as they form words. "I wish I was here before then, so you would not have to need me." Cera would much rather her be happy continually than swoop in to rescue her from the ledge every time. Even if the thought of her not relying upon him for such an intimate, fragile thing was almost as agonizing as seeing her this way. 

What she asks is so sadly simple, and Cera would never even think to deny her. And through it all she speaks what he has always felt, and he has no trouble letting his response fall from between his teeth before he fulfills her request. "I love you as well, Sia. And I always will. For forever and a day." He had loved her since foalhood, since the earliest shapes and shadows of his memories, and it would never change. Perhaps he did not love her romantically, did not feel his heart race with nerves and excitement when she smiled at him. But he loved her like bedrock, like gravity, like all things solid and eternal. It was a love made of comfort and shared loneliness, understanding and kinship. And nobody could tell him that the way he loved her was wrong. 

"Whatever I can give you, I will." It's the last assurance he leaves her with before he softly clears his throat and begins to speak, unraveling a thread that spins like a spider's web, all the things she'd missed both big and small. Teaching his sister how to forge, working on the church with Maren, visiting the Edge as an ambassador and how proud he had felt, his conversation with Tembovu, his sister's departure, Ktulu seeking him out. Cera let it all spill forth, keeping his tone level and soft, hoping to ease her heart and envelop her in the easy story of his life. Try to keep her occupied and entertained long enough for her to muster the strength to stand. To rail against the world once more. 

and the feels continue