The gesture is a foreign thing to Zaknafein as well, but it had come so easily that no thought had even been spared for it until it was over. It was like a reflection of that goodness he'd long kept locked away inside of him finally ceasing the opportunity to break free if only for one, gentle moment. There's a moment where he fears Drizzt may find the touch too odd or strange, but immediately brushes it aside as quickly as the thought came.

Drizzt is so much like himself, yet so much more than he could have ever hoped to be.

Zak had only turned away because of the business with his wound, knowing that while it's not going to be fatal on it's own, it still needs to be cared for. He trusts Caesar, but he's only capable of so much, especially when it comes to a stranger. The human has proved himself, but he views the world through a thick layer if ingrained paranoia that he's not even aware of because it's such a normal, natural thing.

The older drow's keen ears alert him to his son's apparent distress before Caesar makes mention of it, and he snaps himself around while giving little thought to his injury.

He's seen drow cry before, but not like this. Drow cry out of frustration and anger, or fear and desperation. He's never known a drow that could feel sadness enough to cry, let alone spill tears filled with such hope and emotions so seldom seen he can hardly recognize them. It makes his heart swell and his own eyes start to burn, but he keeps himself in control.

Again, there's his natural instinct to try and help the boy hide his tears. Weakness is dangerous and it could end him in even worse pain, but when he hears those two, sweet but heavy words, he lets it all fall away. Instead he lifts a hand to cup the boy's cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb and leaning in close to rest their foreheads together, repeating the words to make them seem more solid and real.

"We are free."