The water is black and bitterly cold, slicing through his bones like knives. But he doesn't hesitate. The moment he sees you slip beneath the surface, he dives, a heavy, broken plunge, his shackles dragging behind like ghosts.

The impact knocks the breath from him, and the cold steals what little strength he has left. Still, he fights his way down, lungs burning, chains pulling at his limbs. He reaches you through sheer will, arm curling around your waist as he kicks hard his legs barely responding.

You feel his grip, trembling but determined. Then motion. He’s hauling you up, inch by inch, his body screaming in protest. The weight of both your bodies and his shackles drag at him, but somehow, he doesn’t let go.

The surface breaks. You both erupt into the icy air, gasping. He coughs, choking, but keeps hold of you, arm clamped around your shoulders.

"I got you..." he breathes, the words nearly lost to the wind.

He drags you toward the bank, his strength almost spent. Every kick is slower, every breath harder. But he doesn't stop, not until his feet scrape mud and rock, and he collapses forward onto the shore, dragging you with him.

He lays there, face in the dirt, chest heaving. Shackles clink. His fingers twitch weakly, trying to reach you again.

"You... you’re safe now..." he whispers, his voice raw and broken.

He rolls onto his side with effort, his soaked robes clinging to skin stretched too thin. His whole body shakes from cold, from hunger, from exhaustion but his eyes search your face with quiet urgency

"I did not... even know your name..." he says, a faint smile touching his lips. "But I could not let you go....."