Snippet #2811852

At first, Sverre continued to smile, content to wait if Eilin needed a moment after waking up. He was glad to see her drink her water without incident, prompting him to pour her some more from a pitcher the barmaid had been kind enough to bring up at his request. "Have some more. Don't worry, I got plenty." He encouraged, returning the glass to the nightstand.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting from his old friend. Some tired banter? A false insult telling him to shut up? A delighted greeting? A puzzled question was not high on his list of what he imagined a miraculous reunion would start with, but he supposed it wasn't too odd.

What was odd was the particular question she asked.

She didn't ask what happened, how he'd found her, where he'd been all these years, or even what made him realize. Instead, she asked him why. Why?

Smile faltering, he frowned slightly in confusion. "Why? What are you talkin' about Eilin?" He prodded, a slow sinking of his gut as he met her eyes. She looked wary and suspicious. Like an old warrior who was a veteran on the fields of battle and haunted by its ghosts. What on earth had happened to her during these years apart? If someone had hurt her to the point where she had to close herself off...well, he'd kill anyone who had dared.

Before Sverre could suggest such an idea in some attempt to bring back some of the light in her eyes, she followed up with a seemingly ordinary statement. But it struck him as particularly cold, and it made no sense. Why the past tense?

"Are. We are family Eirin. You know that..." he corrected with a concerned frown.

Only for the past few days to flood back in from his memory banks and hit him like a splash of ice water.

She was angry at him. And had been hostile towards him. And hiding who she was. But he couldn't fathom why.

"Why didn't you tell me? I mean, I'll admit I should've figured it out sooner, but I had no idea you'd survived."