When he saw her, he knew.
He knew in the way that a musician knows the notes of a half-forgotten song, in the way that whispered melodies wind through dreams, murmured notes and reverberations curling like smoke into the eternal sky- suggesting at something that once was, and could be again.
He knew in the way that a star knows the sky, forever dancing among the glittering black in an ethereal dance that has been told long before he walked the earth, and will continue in until he is mere dust in the wind.
He knew in the way that a child knows of home, in hazy memories lit by candles, blurred by the passage of time; the soft glow of family and the feeling of rightness, of belonging, of the intrinsic feeling that they were meant to be there.
He knew in the way of forgotten languages that have grown rusty and unused over time, the words invoking not translations to different sounds, different meaningless letters, but to emotions and chords struck deep within.
He knew in the way that gulls know the song of the wind, with its wild call born into their blood, their very essence, as if a part of their heart would be gone if the skies were ripped from them. He had tasted the sky and rode its currents, seen infinite sunrises and infinite sunsets from high above the craggy mountains, and yet he knew that he would trade his quiet joy of soft mornings and clear nights for her.
He knew in his mind, his heart, his soul, his bones, that he was hers and she his.
And he looked in her eyes and saw not the love that he felt in his heart but the fear that he knew so well from his time in that wretched, cursed court, flashing at him like a warning, but he knew in that moment that he would fight for her, to take whatever she would give him, if only to allow himself to silently love her and to cherish her.
He only hoped that one day, she might feel the same.