"Celebrate," he said with a sardonic chuckle, gazing out across the clearing. "By being here now, I've now lost the two most important people in my life. I don't wish to celebrate anything." It was an unusually bitter thing for Godric to say; he did not often speak of his emotions or his deeper thoughts, at least those which pertained to himself. No, he kept those sentiments locked up tightly and shared them with only the two whom he had left behind in the real world.
Shaking it off, he switched back to their other line of conversation, but that was hardly any less difficult for him to focus on, either. He still did not know what sense he could make of the connection between Bridget and Sæunn, and things like this only made it harder to keep the lines unblurred. It was so easy to talk to her, but so damn hard at the same time. Godric wished for some kind of clarity. "I am sorry," he said. "I miss my home too."
He was not sure what spurred him on, then, but perhaps he was simply tired. Tired of putting distance between himself and Bridget for something that was not her fault, something over which she had no control. Tired of fighting what might have been fate, if he asked the gods for their counsel. Tired of — whatever this struggle was. "Come here," he said, and put his arm around her shoulders.