[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/rFqmKNsx/Orion-Nightingale.png[/img][/center][hr][right][sub]Location: Outside Seluna Temple
Interactions: Céline ([@Beard Dad]), Ramona ([@enmuni]), Elara[/sub][/right][hr]
[indent]Orion had noticed Céline’s silence as they walked, the kind of silence that wasn’t born from awkwardness but from thought. She was dissecting her vulnerable moment, he guessed, replaying the confession she’d offered earlier. He didn’t interrupt. Pressuring others into speech had never been his way; some truths needed to settle like sediment before they could be sifted through. His own past had taught him that, nights staring at campfire embers while comrades swallowed words too heavy to voice. But he shoved the memories aside, focusing on the brittle crunch of snow beneath his boots instead.

He took the longer route, as he often did when he did not wish to encounter anyone. There were fewer faces, fewer questions, and fewer masks to deal with. All the while, Orion could feel Céline’s gaze on him even though he did not meet it, searching, almost hesitant. It was like she was looking for something in him that she wasn’t sure she had the right to ask for. He didn’t blame her. She’d mirrored his honesty, offering fragments of herself most would bury, a gift he didn’t take lightly. Now, as the temple’s jagged spire pierced the night sky, he wondered if she regretted that candour. If she feared the cost of trusting him.

Could she?

Orion wasn’t sure. Not because he questioned his willingness to help, but because he knew the pattern too well. People mistook his stillness for strength, his scars for wisdom. They leaned, and he bore their weight until his knees buckled. He’d been a pillar once: for his late wife, whose nightmares he’d soothe until dawn; for his son, whose small hand had clung to his the day a fever had him in its grasp; for Flynn, before time made them both into harder versions of their younger selves. Anchors sank, he’d learned, when the storms raged too long. Yet as Céline abruptly turned away, cheeks flushed with unspoken apology, Orion felt an odd pang. Her gaze, heavy with unvoiced need, had been… not a chain, but a bridge. And part of him ached to cross it. To ask what thoughts she had in her mind. 

Perhaps it wasn’t a burden after all. Perhaps it was just… who he always wished to be: someone people could rely on. 

The temple was drawing near. He could feel her hesitation crystallize beside him. And so he slowed just slightly, giving her the room to speak first.

“[color=60cf11]Would you come into the temple with me?[/color]”

Orion didn’t answer right away. He rarely did when the question carried more than one meaning.

Her voice had started light, almost normal in its attempt to coax, but he heard the true sincerity beneath it. A stranger coming to honour a fallen life… It was a kind thought. One he might have deflected on another day. But today—now—it didn’t feel so distant. He’d buried more than a few comrades without knowing their favourite drink or the names of their children. Some men died with no one to remember them but the ones who had the misfortune to live. So he knew that sometimes presence alone was enough. 

But just as he opened his mouth to answer, she stumbled. Her hand caught his sleeve, fingers tightening instinctively as she pressed in, and without hesitation, he reached for her, one arm settling low around her back, steadying her.

“[color=#0054a6]No need to apologize,[/color]” he said quietly, his voice rough but calm. “[color=#0054a6]Take what you need.[/color]” She was breathing shallower now, her chest rising fast and uneven. He didn’t speak, though. Just waited. Let her find her breath. Let the tide pass.

That was when his eyes shifted toward some movement ahead. 

He recognized Elara before she spoke, though her companion less so. Perhaps another one of the princess’s servants? That was the man’s best guess. 

“[color=#0054a6]Miss Elara,[/color]” Orion returned. “[color=#0054a6]It wasn’t planned.[/color]” He didn’t elaborate further, didn’t say why they’d come or how far they’d walked or what the temple meant in this moment. His reasons were no one’s business but his own and Céline’s, if she chose to share them.

But when Elara turned her attention to the woman at his side, Orion’s gaze moved too. He felt the way Céline still gripped him, how her fingers had yet to relax. Not from fear. No, he knew what fear felt like against him. This was something more personal. The touch of someone trying not to lose her footing in a place trying to push her down. 

He did not pull away. Instead, he angled slightly toward her, as if to shield her from the wind, and maybe from too many eyes.

“[color=#0054a6]She’s with me,[/color]” he said simply. Still, he didn’t completely dismiss the kindness in Elara’s tone either. He respected what it cost to ask questions with care.

“[color=#0054a6]Thank you...for the suggestion.[/color]” he said, with a nod that almost passed for warmth.[/indent]