He marveled at her there, alive and breathing beside him, but could find no words. The only sound came from their footsteps on the stone and the gentle tap of her cane that accompanied her gait as they headed down towards the pier where the Gallant was docked.
"Come now," she said, "we will miss the tide."
He stopped mid-stride, and for a moment she continued on without him.
"I thought you had been killed," he said, loosing the anger that threatened to overtake his relief at her return.
She stopped and turned towards him. For a moment she was silent, and he searched her expression for any measure of remorse. Before he could make his assessment, she spoke.
"I would never leave you behind,” she said. A warm smile curved her lips and she offered him her hand.
He hesitated, unsure he ought take it.
Her expression sobered, and her fingers twitched. “You must know that.”
She was still the same woman he had known, then, despite the bruises and the rough sheering off of her hair. His love looked back at him in her concerned eyes. He took her hand, relishing the warm grip that enfolded his. “I… do,” he said.