[ Surely it would be the hottest of eroticas, a bit of fic fit to warm the blood of even the most dusty of magical mummies. Particularly with all the sordid context, all the guilt and the shame and the torrid, displaced rage and passion.

But Ieza possesses none of that context, only the growing sense that she chose correctly when she sought out Charles. And the intuition that she's better off banking on his gratitude than that of the person whose life she actually spared/saved. She can perceive the ill will brewing in Erik's frustratingly humdrum aura. ]

From what I saw of his memories, he tried to pass some boundary. It caused him great pain, and eventually unconsciousness. He bled extensive from the nose. I could not discern precisely what caused this condition, but I know he had nearly killed himself in the attempt.

[ And since it's better to be out with it before Erik's mind works it up into more than it was: ]

During the trek you friend caused me to trip. I lost my temper, and I kicked him in anger. As you can see- [ she gestures at Erik's as-already-established-whole form ] -no harm was done.

[ She deems it peevish to mention that he broke a fair number of her bones in retaliation, particularly since her skeleton seems in sufficiently good shape right this moment. ]

I gathered you were important to him. I presume he is important to you. So I brought him back, and... here we are.

[ The silence she lets hang after this is somewhat expectant. ]