He nodded, the conversation having taken a different tack than he had planned on... he had expected her to go red in the face and then calm that with his own admission, but she was back to two nights ago, the night he'd nearly died.  And the night he figured out<em>exactly</em>how to use his... he really needed to come up with a name for it other than "my-fireball-thing".  Something nice, something that showed power and magic and a "don't mess with me" vibe.  But his eyes focused on her again and it slipped from his thoughts.<br/><br/>He lowered his head and a frowned a bit, trying to get the conversation back on track, "I remember hearing this sound and suddenly there was this... thing there.  With a big sword," he took a mental note to go back and find it - the weapon could be useful, "And at that moment, I think I've never been more scared.  But..." he stopped, turning his face back to hers, "I knew I had to live.  So I focused on... and suddenly I could blast the bastard to hell as much as I needed."  He tried to say it, but he couldn't.  Not at that point.<br/><br/>He backtracked... "Remember when you asked how I do it?  And I really couldn't explain?  I lied."  He might think that was a revelation, but he continued, "If I focus on my fear, it works wonders.  Fear of starving, that first time after Julian refused to allow me to eat.  But while I first feared for my life when I was attacked... as I ran and fought, I realized I had a bigger fear..."  He just kept talking, not wanting to lose momentum.  "I've thought about the politics and I know that I'll eventually be a target.  But I don't want to lose you to Julian.  No... its not just that.  I don't want to lose<em>you</em>to anyone."  There.  He said it.  Or most of it.  He took in a deep breath, his cheeks rosy from embarrassment and lack of breath, but he had it out.  Most of it.