So, the thought. We have twenty-six different letters in the alphabet. In innumerable combinations, they have the potential to mean different things, to individual people at contrasting times. The most astonishing thing for me is that it's not always the largest or most impressive combinations that have the most impact. Sometimes, all it takes are four little letters, in one little word, to alter our perspective or change our lives in the most profound ways. Once we realise what that word is and what it means to us, of course.
Hope
"And I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, I don't blame you for his death".
Nathan was stunned at what he had just heard, hoping against hope he had heard her correctly. In processing what she had just said, he realised she seemed more herself than she had been in a while. She was calm, certain in her decision and confident in her statement. Nathan suddenly realised she was still standing there, looking at him and possibly expecting him to respond, so he did what he had wanted to do the day he told her about Fort Clay. Nathan took a step towards her, anticipating her retreat, but she stood her ground and looked to his outstretched hand…or hands, he honestly couldn't recall whether he'd chosen to lift one or both, he just knew he'd instinctually reached out to her.
At that point, hope beyond anything Nathan had dared to dream for in a while, like the night sky exploding with a million stars, raced through Nathan and caused his heart to pound for a whole different reason. Elizabeth had lifted both her hands, was holding fast to his and looking directly at him, without looking away or trying to excuse herself.
Nathan understood that in Elizabeth forcing the confrontation between them about Fort Clay, there had been a painful adjustment period for them both whilst she processed not only the information he had provided, but his reasons for not telling her sooner. Nonetheless, in her finally knowing and understanding his tie-in to Fort Clay and Jack's death, she seemed to have obtained a sense of peace, which was honestly better than the best outcome he ever could have aimed for. With her words tonight, he felt an undeserved sense of relief, which he would be forever grateful to her for.
Yes, she was still with Bouchard and that was obvious from the conversation he and Lucas had just had inside. However, he wished on just one of those million stars that exploded with her revelation, that he might be lucky enough for things to possibly change.
He decided to just hold fast and stared back at her, wanting to stay in that moment and enjoy it, and planned to until she retreated again, or they were inevitably interrupted as they always seemed to be.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
From that night on, the change felt palpable, both in the way Elizabeth dealt with him, and how he felt around her.
The visit to Elizabeth to deliver Florence's bridal bouquet demonstrated this more directly than anything else. He found his new-found light-heartedness revealing itself to her in the most unexpected ways, and that day it did so with him flourishing the bouquet at her from behind his hat. She had looked surprised to start with, however that genuine smile of hers, the one that reached all the way to her eyes and sparkled right back out at him, followed not soon afterward and made him smile too.
For him, the rest of their visit felt like they were finding their way with each other and giving him further hope for the future. Not only did she ask him to stay, offering him a drink to warm him when she realised he was cold, she showed her thoughtfulness in offering to share something of Jack's with him when he said he couldn't find his gloves. She stunned him into incomprehensibility when she told him to take off his serge, and it took further explanation from her to right his senses. Offering to warm his serge and sharing stories with him of how she did this with Jack felt like she was opening up to him, although he hadn't quite worked out if this was entirely voluntary on her part yet. He noticed that sometimes she would say or do something and then catch herself, as if she wasn't entirely aware of her actions, before continuing on.
This was never more evident than when she brought his warmed serge back to him. She helped him put it on, resting her hands on his back, before he turned around, and she seemed to unconsciously reach out to help him finish dressing. When she realised what she was doing, his hope-filled wings observed that she had paused but did not retreat. When she looked up at him, whilst he had managed to contain his facial expression, he hadn't been able to stop himself from commenting "yeah, this feels better". Giving her a small smile, he hoped to help her understand he certainly hadn't taken offense to her help, and that he was simultaneously aware of difference between them, and was greatly appreciative of it.
While she was walking him out, he'd wanted to further reassure her and chose to lightly comment "well, thank you for warming me up", and was rewarded again with a smile and reciprocal thanks for the flowers.
His hope had wings, and was flying high over the valley, as his interactions with her were reminding him more and more of the time they had spent together before their roadside rendezvous has sidelined things so significantly.