Halsin stayed in his own skin for a good long while after the little dove flew away. He was afraid that if he became the bear, he would be overrun with the raw emotions of what had happened. As himself, he could try his best to sift through his feelings, dissect them, understand how he had lost control of himself to the point of touching her, and perhaps prevent it from happening again.

Despite her having fled from him, he was proud of her. Seeing her wonder and curiosity had stirred his heart, just like it had since their very first encounter. To say he had enjoyed her closeness would be an understatement. He should have been satisfied with that alone. Instead, he had ruined it in one thoughtless gesture.

The dark, smooth skin of her cheek had been warmer than he expected. Surprising him that she was indeed flesh and blood, not obsidian like the carved rock he was chained to. Watching her process the music, the poetry, the longing tune, had been a powerful and alluring magic all its own. Before his eyes, it had transformed her, shattered her mask, and shown him the heart at her center. As the tear had slipped down her cheek, he reached for it out of pure instinct to soothe her.

He’d been biding his time, complacent in his chains for three years, and had planned to be complacent longer still. It wasn’t until the little dove brought her music into his life that he had even thought about taking matters into his own hands and escaping. But Laidra was slowly bringing him back to life. Each question she asked about his home, the surface above, built an urgency in him to return. His heart was longing and dreaming of what the sun would feel like on his skin again. And foolishly, he was dreaming of returning with Laidra by his side.

He’d no idea how to make such a dream a reality, or if she would even indulge it. She insisted she cared deeply about her cruel Goddess, her place in the order of drow society, but her eyes had lit up when he’d described to her the colors of the sky. She had been astounded by the feather of a bird. Hadn’t she purchased and learned instruments and music from the surface long before they had met? She was being drawn to the world above just as much as he was being drawn to her. Something must have changed when the music she had sung opened up her heart and made her weep.

Laidra may have failed her Matron and her Goddess, but in that failure, she had given him something far greater. The little dove had given him hope.