onceandfutureprat | .034 - backdated to the end of port

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.034 - backdated to the end of port

Merlin--

[Why yes, that is the voice of a king with a punctured lung, how did you know]

[She gets up slowly with him, looking like she's ready to catch him if she has to (because that would go so well). She sniffs, and wipes her nose on the back of her hand.]

I wanted to stay with them. [Her voice is small, because she's afraid of what that means: she would have stayed, if Robb hadn't attacked, she would have stayed with them forever.]

[Arthur doesn't doubt that she would have tried to stay with them if Robb hadn't attacked. But she probably underestimates how much he, Jesse and hopefully Toshiko would have done to keep that from happening.]

Jesse and I wouldn't have let you stay with those monsters, Arya.

[She underestimates a lot of things about Arthur and Jesse - and probably Toshiko, too. She looks down and away, out over the rail.]

They didn't look like monsters. Not at first. [She looks almost sheepish when she glances back up at him.] I feel stupid.

You shouldn't. [Even the best of them do stupid things because of magic.]

You should feel strong. You saw them for what they were eventually. And you fought them off.

I stabbed her. [Not her mother, but - it was, at the same time. She rubs her hands against her breeches, uncomfortable.] I killed her.

I think it's safe to assume whatever that thing was, it was already dead.

She was in the water. [And she doesn't want to look at him, now, because she can still feel where her clothes are wet from hugging it, and it makes her shudder.] They cut her throat. What happened to her face?

[The gouges had been deep and bloodless when she'd finally seen them, and she wonder how she'd ever known it was her mother at all.

Nymeria had known, in her dream. When she pulled her from the water. She scrusb at her face.]

I wish I knew.

[Arthur could probably guess but he doesn't particularly want to. Especially if it'll only make things worse for her.

He reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder.]

Come on, let's get you out of those wet clothes.

I can change my own clothes, [she mutters, because it's something that feels natural to say. But she leans into his hand, too, because she's too empty to push away kindness.]

...Arthur?

[Please, he's not going to change you. He can't even change himself out of his chainmail. But he is going to insist and drag her to her room if he must.]

Yes?

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.034 - backdated to the end of port

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