It was nice to just be close to someone he recognized, someone safe and familiar. Someone who understood what it had meant to him, someone who knew better than to succumb to the slander of his good name, someone who had an idea of what it was like to love and lose again and again. Alcuin knew it had affected his value as a slave, knew that was at least in part why things could be so terribly uncomfortable between his new master and himself. He wondered if Anafiel would have been disappointed in him for that. “I don't know how much of it is true,” and part of him didn't want to know. “but I suspect you have made good time in that regard. You always do.”
Hermes was a very talented provocateur when he wished to be, and where idle tongues wagged, he was sure to follow. Alcuin could only imagine the terrible things that had been said about him and his beloved. “Don't be,” he sighed contentedly, tilting his head back just a hair against the palm of his friend's hand. It reminded him of the great many times his Anafiel would stroke his hair as a child. “You're here now, and that is what matters most.”