So the decision was made. Idris sensed the pain burning in his friend's heart as he lost his son for the second time. Of course it was something completely different than it had been all those summers ago; the Silure knew that very well. Eirik had not lost his son at all, the youth had only made his decision to stay with his former master, now friend – nothing more, nothing less. Yet it would take Eirik time to realise this. The Northerner's hand closed around the necklace so tight that the knuckles turned white, and Idris felt the light trembling as his friend tried very hard not to show his grief.

Outwardly composed Idris glanced over at Spurius, who met his eyes with a sober expression and gave a brief nod before his gaze wandered over to his lover. Even Hylas looked quite subdued; the young Greek well sensed the changed atmosphere and instinctively responded to it, even though he hadn't been able to hear (or even see) what exactly had happened. He leaned closer to Felix and whispered a question to which the Sicilian replied with a few words and a shake of his head, and Hylas' glances wandered back and forth between the Northerners before he buried his face in the wine cup.

An awkward silence had descended upon the two parties. Olaf's hand clung to those of his Greek friend as if his very life depended on it, and Philandros' face couldn't hide how happy he felt, yet he showed no glee at the sight of Eirik's pain. Idris tentatively touched his friend and immediately felt him tense. The tall man seemed to shrink back into his cloak, almost as if he lost substance with every breath he took. Finally he raised his head and gazed at his son. Again two pairs of blue eyes locked, silent messages passed between them until Eirik finally reached out and slipped the necklace over his son's head.

"Your mother would want you to have it", he said softly. "And I want you to keep it as a reminder that we love you and that we are always there for you, as long as we are breathing, Ragnhild, Spurius and I." He paused and swallowed hard. "You have made your decision as it befits a grown and free man, and it goes with my blessing." He briefly glanced at Philandros. "I thank you for setting him free; I thank you for being kind to him when he needed it most. But I don't thank you for stealing his heart away. Be careful with it." He pressed his lips together to prevent other, more bitter and most likely unfair words from tumbling out. "I have to go now", he managed after some time, nodded to Olaf and Philandros and rose.