[She reaches out, and touches the sheath with trembling fingers.

At first, that seems to be all she can manage to do--just to touch the sheath, eyes wide as she stares at the gift he's offering to her.

To protect yourself with if necessary, but she knows if this is meant to be a ceremonial blade, it is not supposed to be used. As he said--it should not be soiled. This is a different sort of gift, rather than a weapon.

Altria drags in a shaky breath, and finally closes her fingers around the sheath gently, pulling the sword towards herself.]

I...

[... She's known how in love she is with him for a little while now. So many stolen moments, so many moments she couldn't even be sure were real. So many small acts of kindness, so many moments where he allowed her to see the person he is, heart and soul. All of it together combined to become a person that she loves, even if a Faerie of Paradise like her isn't supposed to love people.

She is anyway. She can't help it.

I'm in love with you, she thinks. You are my treasure. And in the deepest parts of her heart, the ones she tries so hard not to acknowledge--I want to stay with you.

What she says, instead, softly, is:]

I've never... held anything this precious before. I--

[She's so used to giving up the things she loves, after having them taken from her so many times. But this time--this time--]

--I don't ever want to let it go. No, I... I won't ever give it up...!

[And she carefully grasps the hilt of the sword and gently moves to pull some of it from its sheath, so she can see the blade.]