( julian catches the tankard between both hands and pulls it toward him almost protectively. except he isn't protecting his stupid drink from her, or, really, protecting her from the stupid drink, either, he just. needs to hold onto something. because the alternative is in the way he almost reaches past it, like he means to touch her instead, only to realize he doesn't dare. not because of her. because of him. because of the black scaled birdskin and claws and feathers that are his hands now, rough and decidedly wholly unpleasant. it doesn't matter what she looks like now, or what she's become, he can't... he can't. so he holds the cup, his eyes wide and round and almost betrayed, the anguish as plain as anything. )

Wha—no! You didn't do this for me. Please tell me you didn't do this for me, that's...

( why do anything, why should she have to? and why like this? and—gone? he couldn't have broken his deal, because then wouldn't his chains have been broken, too? it's a contract, isn't it? or at least those are the lies he was told, the foolishness he believed in when he did what he did to save everybody. no, it doesn't make sense. how she can be in his place. )

You shouldn't be here. You were supposed to be safe. You were all supposed to be safe. That was the deal. I don't need help, you need to go home.