It was a good thing Clio had worded him up. Even knowing the welcome that awaited him, it floored him – the banner a riot of jubilant colour, decorated with an enthusiastic child's hand; Ella's shriek of delight as she darted forward to latch herself onto him. It had been... hell, the better part of two hundred years since he'd been treated to this kind of homecoming.
(Leading the mare down the back lane, both of them filthy and wearied from the road, his side still smarting where an errant crossbow bolt had grazed it. Raising his eyes to the house just in time to see a small, freckled face light up and vanish from the window, accompanied by a thundering of footsteps and a five-year-old shriek of 'MAMA! MAMA, HE'S BACK! DA'S BACK!')
Will schooled the emotion in his face into a fond smile, and he gave Ella's hair a soft tousle. "Missed you too, ducky," he said. "Like you wouldn't believe." He glanced up at Patrick, who was hanging back, clearly trying to give them space, and added, "It's good to see you too, Pat."
Stiffly, mindful of his freshly-dressed wounds, he lowered himself into a careful crouch so that he was on a level with Ella. "Did you do all this for me, eh, ducky?"