Arvis comes to Jakob with a soft expression. His lips are slightly tilted upwards, a little smile there now. Amused, and somewhat wistful.
"Jakob," he says, and gently takes his hand. In it he presses a broach to his palm, gold and bright and shining. It is a symbol to him, one that he has held onto for a long time that once pinned his cape to his jacket. Engraved on it is a small castle, and if one looked close enough they could see the inscription of the start of the Valflame tome.
"I would like you to have this," he says, and his expression does not falter. He remains serious in his words. "A gift. For my only friend."
jakob seems taken aback at this - eyes meeting arvis' before settling into a content gaze. he smiles in exchange, clawed fingers settling over the broach, gently squeezing it a moment to feel the coolness against himself before nodding. "i see."
come a moments wait, eventually does he inspect it - yes, a similar inscription to that of the tome he saw when they cooked together. it is funny, how he sought to remember it, come the realization that it was important to arvis.
it reads as something unsaid. there is a softness to his words, but something just a little bit sad - jakob is no fool, he knows arvis well. a settling feeling of almost distinct unease blossoms in his stomach and there is the understanding that this is what it is, and that arvis was doing what he must. a sentimental gift such as this rings true to their friendship, but jakob had every right to presume the implication given how abrupt it was.
he sighs, clicks his tongue, and pockets the accessory. "i understand, arvis," jakob nods towards him, the edges of his mouth maintaining the genuine smile, before he settles his hand around his own broach. turquoise, shining, bright. he owned many, but he prized it for its beauty - all that he stood for was immortalized within it. "that it has come to this."
slowly does jakob unlatch the jewellery. no, jakob would never hand this off to anyone. anyone. it was part of him, an extension of his flesh, something he would cover with his hands come an array of arrowfire lest he were to splatter it with his own blood ( entirely unacceptable ). "i loathe disrupting my uniform," he muses, shining it ( though pristine ) once more with the silk of his sleeves. "but for you, i'll allow it."
he sets it into arvis' hand, and folds his fingers over it.
"keep it safe, won't you?" jakob hums, and his neck feels terribly bare, the cravat loosening and looking dreadfully messy. he is hyperaware of it, of course he is, but it is not important currently. "don't try to refuse it. i won't let you. you can deliver it to me another time, if you so insist, but not now. not for awhile."
and whilst jakob was one to tense in moments of genuine emotion, he does not, not today. "a gift, for one of my only friends," he repeats. "take care of it, arvis. i'll cook for you someday soon."
