[ the singing surprises him, enough that he gives a noticeable jolt where he lays. she is so tender with him, and he does not begin to understand why. he has given her nothing, offered her nothing. he could be any other man and she would not know the difference. she does not understand that there is a monster in her bed, a killer, a demon, a brute. he is tamed and tethered for the moment, but that may not hold true.

he can see how she could have come to be so tattered.

his eyes flutter shut as he listens to the foreign song, mind wandering back through the years. his mother once sang to him. he remembers how she held him, how she smelled of hearth and home. he can feel where she is turned towards him, so carefully maintaining propriety between them.

he has no time or patience for it. he sighs, heavily, and then he wordlessly thrusts his arm beneath her neck, around her shoulders, and pulls her to rest in against his chest. his eyes do not open, and he does not otherwise stir. ]

If you keep giving without taking anything in return, you'll disappear.

[ his breaths slow, tension ebbing out of his body with his next words. ]

You are safe with me, Gilia. I can't promise you'll always be safe from me, but you are safe with me.

Rest. And sing, if it pleases you. But rest.