[ Claire hears him, she does. She hears him, she listens, and her voice feels caught in her throat. She hears her husband, then she thinks of Jamie, and she wonders if he'll ever arrive in Abraxas for her to apologize to, to beg for forgiveness her trespasses. Would that be another year for now? Eight-hundred? ]

Solvunn will be fine. I need a new roof, all my bees are dead, the community is rebuilding. Is that what we're here to speak of, then? I'll give the more detailed report if so.

[ Brushing her hands over her skirt, she sits at the table and pours tea for both of them simply to have something to do with her hands. It isn't because she spent lifetimes taking care of him, knowing what he likes, able to anticipate it. It's because he's a guest, he'd do the same for anyone. Or so she tells herself. ]