He stands and watches at first, gaze locked to her falling form. There's nothing else he can do to aid her, or save her if it came to that — just as he'd said, once she's taken the leap, its success comes down to Hilda and Hilda alone.

But it's fine. If her dive lacks the smoothness borne of experience, it has more grace than he would have imagined, a testament to her focus and perhaps some innate talent.

Altaïr makes his own dive moments after he sees her surface from beneath the water, taking care to arc out in a way that will help avoid him landing on her and breaking bones in both of them. (He meets her eyes before he goes — probably she can't tell from that far away that he's smiling. But maybe she can.) It only takes a few seconds for him to paddle over and tread water by her side.

"You did," he confirms, as if she really needs him to. "Well done."