[Garen LiLorian]

His expression passed through a number of emotions quickly, the most prevalent being surprise but followed closely by confusion. Whatever seemed so clear to Erenor remained clouded to her armsman, but he was sure of one thing; It was he that had caused her this distress. He reached out a hand uncertainly, holding it over her curtain of hair, wanting and fearing to offer words of comfort, uncertain. He clenched his hand and withdrew it again, dropping instead to one knee.

"My lady..." He stopped, then continued. "And you are my lady, whatever post you might hold, my heart... it has been locked away even from me for many lives of Men. What you speak of..." He shook his head. "The answers may indeed rest there, but I know not of them. I do not even understand the questions." He considered how to continue. "But... that you are hurt hurts me, and that the source of that pain is myself wounds me again." He peered at her, trying to discern her eyes under the curtain of hair. "And I would know what I might do to relieve you of this pain, my lady." The honorific had a strange catch in it.

He clenched his hands by his sides again. "I.. will leave you if you wish it, Erenor. I will not be the source of your pain." But he made no motion to move. "But... I would rather stay." This time he did touch her, taking one of her hands into his own callused palms. His eyes were confused but resolute as he looked up at her.