He throws open the door without bothering to close it, and ascends the stairs. A chorus of protests erupts, but he extends his hand to silence them.

Rapping softly, he speaks her name and yet another door opens to him. Her sanctuary is not designed to harm him, and he feels safe.

Worry creases her brow and she tells him that she just didn't know. She was betrayed, as well and her face is stained with her sorrow. He believes her. He believes *in* her.

Taking her hands in his, he smiles and assures her that he can no longer hurt any of them. He has free will, at last.

She treats his new battle scars with cool touches and gentle murmurs. Her tears fall anew as she tells him that he has suffered enough. When will it stop? He tells her he doesn't know if it's meant to cease. Perhaps this is to be his course. Perhaps he needs to suffer for the terrible things he has done. She doesn't understand this and lets him know that he is a good man. He looks at her in wonder.

He tells her he should go but she asks him to stay. She wants to protect him. Grateful, he removes his costume and sinks into her bed. He is weary and the thought occurs to him that he has not lain in a real bed in months.

She draws the draperies and moves to his side. She carefully places her head on his chest and he gathers her close with a surprised sigh. She smiles. The warriors sleep.