“You’re not just a weapon,” she mumbled into his neck. “You have a sweet tooth and sometimes you make me laugh. I tell you things that I’ve never told anyone else.” The very air seemed to spin golden with each surge of memory, aether humming between their forms. “You helped me with my magic. You tackled me out of the way of that void bolt. Today you made sure I could run and fight. All of these things—they’re not what a weapon is, or does. You’re so much more than a weapon. You could be more.”
