[ He smiles at that, as if borrowing Inigo's memory with how fondly he speaks of his sister and their childhood. But more than that, it paints him a nice picture of Inigo in a way that he's never offered, and Roland is thankful for the trust. Even now, as Inigo holds him close, arms tightly wound around his torso like he's afraid Roland would sneak off and leave... He knows he's grateful for this moment, too. ]
Hm. Is that so? I didn't know you were a mischievous kid. But hey, dance lessons, huh? [ He peers down at Inigo, watching him fall into a state of peace that suits someone so young. That's how it should be. People like Inigo, still growing, still trying to find their places in life - they needed moments like this where they can be safe. Where men like Roland can take to the front, to guide the nightmares away, even for just a second. ] I have a feeling you'd cut quite a figure on the dance floor. [ Roland pats his back again, gentle motions returning easily. ] The only time I ever got a chance to dance was when my wife and I used to attend galas and state dinners. Slow dancing to music, nothing too crazy. I was even invited to dance during the Purple mixer, y'know. But I don't think I would have kept up with some of the elves in attendance. Heh.
[ Curufin tried to explain to him how it worked, but Roland wasn't as intuitive on that front as he would have liked. Still. Imagining Inigo in that role was a bit lighter on the forefront of his mind; gentle as he already was, a serene image of the boy making him a flower bracelet in the hidden grove of Jema'grethy's forests. He sighs quietly again, and when the conversation stills somewhat, Roland parks his hand against the clothes of Inigo's back, warm and heavy. ]
The Brand in your eye...[ He starts off carefully, hoping he wasn't prying too much. ] And...the scars on your body. [ Roland can't help but hug him tighter as he speaks of it, unaware of the instinct to shield him even from an enemy long gone. What was he trying to say? What did he want to tell him after seeing all that and trying to piece together a past Inigo obviously wanted to hide...?
He settles on something else, then, no less genuine than if he had gone with what he really wanted to ask. Roland's voice falls gentle, and quiet. ]
You must have been through a lot. [ He closes his eyes. ] With quite a story to tell.
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Hm. Is that so? I didn't know you were a mischievous kid. But hey, dance lessons, huh? [ He peers down at Inigo, watching him fall into a state of peace that suits someone so young. That's how it should be. People like Inigo, still growing, still trying to find their places in life - they needed moments like this where they can be safe. Where men like Roland can take to the front, to guide the nightmares away, even for just a second. ] I have a feeling you'd cut quite a figure on the dance floor. [ Roland pats his back again, gentle motions returning easily. ] The only time I ever got a chance to dance was when my wife and I used to attend galas and state dinners. Slow dancing to music, nothing too crazy. I was even invited to dance during the Purple mixer, y'know. But I don't think I would have kept up with some of the elves in attendance. Heh.
[ Curufin tried to explain to him how it worked, but Roland wasn't as intuitive on that front as he would have liked. Still. Imagining Inigo in that role was a bit lighter on the forefront of his mind; gentle as he already was, a serene image of the boy making him a flower bracelet in the hidden grove of Jema'grethy's forests. He sighs quietly again, and when the conversation stills somewhat, Roland parks his hand against the clothes of Inigo's back, warm and heavy. ]
The Brand in your eye...[ He starts off carefully, hoping he wasn't prying too much. ] And...the scars on your body. [ Roland can't help but hug him tighter as he speaks of it, unaware of the instinct to shield him even from an enemy long gone. What was he trying to say? What did he want to tell him after seeing all that and trying to piece together a past Inigo obviously wanted to hide...?
He settles on something else, then, no less genuine than if he had gone with what he really wanted to ask. Roland's voice falls gentle, and quiet. ]
You must have been through a lot. [ He closes his eyes. ] With quite a story to tell.