Wheeling Gull Isle one of my turns

Her answers did nothing but bring more questions to Maegi's mind, but before she could ask--hurt me? she wasn't sure what that really meant, but okay--the still-nameless woman approached, drawing close and resting her chin on the girl's head. She stiffened for a moment, unsure and unused to touch, but eventually relaxed, melting slightly into the embrace.

She was warm, and smelled like a mother should. Much like Relmyna, or the faint whiffs she'd caught of Potema, laced as it was with the smell of poppy seeds. But it had never been this immediate, this intimate, and she swallowed a surprise sob, feeling choked. She pressed her cheek against the woman's chest, the heartbeat thumping strong and steady against her face.

Maybe it was okay that the woman couldn't talk. Words hurt. Words hurt worse than wounds. The pain Nikan had dealt her was indescribable, but paled in comparison to the parting shot Euron had hurled at her as he'd left the forest. But here she was, offering nothing but a gentle touch, a whispered couple of words.

What Maegi didn't know was that she was broken, too. She didn't know, yet, that maybe they could help each other heal.