Back and forth they went, awkwardly attempting to figure out the true intentions of the other party. While Valka was doing her best to rid herself of the growing fondness she felt, Solomon was busy convincing himself that her sudden gentleness was borne of duty rather than of true affection. Surely the fierce pony mare that had made him fight for every single inch of common ground that they'd found had not willingly chosen to close the remaining gap on her own. He felt as if he were playing chess, only the pieces were checkers and the board a twister mat. None of it made sense, and the more he tried to keep up, the further behind he fell.

His words were a gesture - albeit a small and awkward one - to try and repair the damage that his hasty reaction to her bite might have caused. In the wake of nearly losing both Sabriel and Wren to his own cruelty (and, if he were honest, probably actually losing Quinn to it as well), he was terrified that his hastiness may have eroded the goodwill that they had built. He still cannot explain why her touch gave rise to a sensation so powerful as to derail any sense of decorum he had ever had, but he could not deny that it had happened. Even now, the desire to close the distance between them and curl around her possessively sits like a lump of heated coal in his belly. Despite the intent behind his conciliatory offer, she radiates frustration and he feels as though he's missed a message somewhere. For one heart-stopping second, it doesn't even appear as though she will meet his gesture of goodwill in the middle, but eventually she does and he releases a sigh of relief as her charcoal muzzle brushes his own.

The slight smile gives away the falsehood behind her disdainful snort, but he's still not entirely sure that he's out of the woods, especially when her dismissive response leaves him on edge. He could so very easily be imagining the subtle new gentleness to her tone, especially given the way she scolds him for his lapse. Still, he does his best to keep the worst of the uncertainty from his face and chuckles softly in response to her censure. "I'm a slow learner," he says, his voice a strange combination of hesitation and affection.

Silence once more stretches between them, although this time it was not tinged with the same hostility that had infiltrated the ones in their past. As the space expanded between their attempts to reach each other, Solomon grew more and more certain of the distinct difference between this quiet and everything they had shared before. Beneath Valka's prickly exterior was a heart that was far less guarded than it had been before. One, that if given enough time and enough care on his part, might even come to regard him with the same fondness that he now reserved for her.

She is the first to break the standoff, and he watches with softness in his eyes as she closes the distance between them. Solomon had been the first to offer an olive branch in the past, but it has always been Valka who has determined the course of their relationship. She who has taken from him, denied him, raised his child, and challenged him for his crown. Regardless of the title that weighs heavily on Solomon's shoulders or the authority that he may hold, she has never once backed down from him. Even now, as she fits her petite body against his own, it is she that controls this path, and he just a hapless participant along for the journey.

Again, Solomon yields to her as she comes to him, his body curling around the point where they connect. A smile lingers on his lips as he absorbs the moment and the meaning behind it. He may be a slow learner, but he was a damned lucky one. He would stay that way from now until she chose to move away from him, and even then, he knew he would be unable to resist placing a soft caress across their brow before they parted.

Solomon