He tried to stop the sound of relief that escaped him when she said she'd not leave him. He'd suffered all manner of imaginings about just what she would say and do when he showed up, unannounced. Frankly, he was surprised he still stood before her. The feel of her arms slipping about him felt wonderful and then she made her request. He'd grown up with a mum who had been a staunch Catholic; she'd never missed Mass - even going when she'd been sick - and had made sure that Leathan had always said his prayers properly growing up. She was the reason he'd been an altar-boy.

She had also been the reason that he was sure that Wynne could eventually accept him and his magic as wholly as his mum had accepted his da. And so, with a crooked smile, he nodded. "That's fair. More than, really." He left off from adding that he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep such a schedule; the war did not cease just so a bloke could attend a religious service once a week. They would, he decided, cross that bridge when it came.

"Though you couldn't tell the people there that you're a witch. They'd throw you out."

He smirked down at her. "Oh, no. Nothing to fear there, love. I'll most certainly never speak a word about being a witch," he said, leaning closer, his eyes sparkling, he added: "Wouldn't want them to think I'm a woman, would we?"


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Miri -- Doesn't know when to KICK SOMEONE. (11/12)