Holding the Fool is an enormously effective balm for Devin's heartache, but the grief doesn't completely evaporate like he might have guessed it would. He's elated and yet he still hurts, and currently he has no space to examine the reaction. Right now he can only be here with his partner. All unnoticed, he's trembling with the sheer force of relief, and he's trying to get his tongue to cooperate in forming an actual reply. It takes a few shuddering breaths for Devin to be sure he won't simply break down when he opens his mouth.

"Almost six weeks," Devin answers, voice rough and quiet. So: not terribly long, but long enough that Devin was starting to brace himself for accepting that his lover would never return. Long enough for him to think of too many things left unsaid, to begin giving up on a future that included companionship.

He wonders then if the Fool experienced any time at home or if he's just come fresh from his trauma at Aslevjal again, if they're both standing raw and grief-stricken for reasons both shared and vastly different, and Devin does his best to pull together threads of composure. If the Fool has re-lived what happened to him or has it so near in his memory, Devin wants to help. Even if he's struggling with the depth of his own feelings, he wants to give as much comfort as he receives. Weakly: "Are you okay?"

Neither of them are okay, really, but broadly speaking things might not be vastly horrible beyond what separation has wrought.