[Gilgamesh carries her up and away to the bed, secure in his grip. He lays her down and covers her with the sheets and tells himself he's done a good thing tonight. She was a brave girl and he was her gallant rescuer and no one else in all the world can take this from him. She's settled like a precious treasure in a satin box and he thinks to himself all is not lost for me, for either of us.

He will likely forget it tomorrow and tarnish that golden armor of his some other way, but tonight he'll remember as he keeps watch over the fire and the brave girl who burns so very much like it, even at rest.]

I will burn it anyway.

[All the better that she forgets, too. But he must tell her something else before she drifts off, remind her of something important.]

You did well, Merida. You acted in all due justice. Do not blame yourself, for there is none to bear, naught to bemoan save that man's own foolishness which led him astray. Should it happen again, act with no sorrow in the future; wield your sword with no delay, and strike down with no regret.

[You are brave, you are brave. He will chant it to her like a mantra until she falls asleep.]