[It’s her reaction that finally strikes something a little deeper than musing over the sameness—and some of the differences—between them. The way she sounds lost to the slow crawl of time, that moment of vulnerability… Henry so often usually revels in the despair of others, in them feeling what he’s felt before, but this time, her words needle in a bit deeper.

Is this… empathy??

And this strange sensation all but colors his greeting to the Witch King, whom he suspected would appear at least once in this memory. Henry remembers him clearly; there’s no surprise on his features.

His smile is thin.]

I think I can stay for however long I like. [This is a memory!! You can’t rush him out.] Do you really give her much time to take a break? The mind latches onto lessons better after a long rest.