Krem wrapped Hild in his arms, and let her wrap him in hers, until they were a tangle, a knot, of some remark. Her feeling and the scent of her skin were familiar and reassuring. Her affection and closeness were tings that had borne him out of some of his darkest moments.

He sniffled again, head on her shoulder, fingers working gently at the small of her back.

"I shouldn't...foist this on you," he murmured. But who else could he talk to about this? He was staid about his relationships with Dorian and purposefully withholding with Bull; he might drink with Balthier, but they were not a pair that talked about their lives much outside of what they did with each other; and Thomas was too reserved and easily flustered to bring up these things.

"Thank you," he said next, just as soft. "For letting me in."