you've got the light to fight the shadows; rhory

[Rhory]

I have died every day waiting for you.
Darling, don't be afraid. I have loved you for a thousand years.
God he’s so nervous.

He’s been watching the swelling of Arrya’s belly with growing trepidation. Before Arrya’s news last spring he’d honestly never thought he’d be a father. For his entire life, his only love had been Arrya, and for most of his life, Arrya’s only love had been Gendry. He’d never thought that he’d have a chance.

Arrya’s attempts to comfort him have soothed, but not completely assuaged his fears. He knows his own background, he knows his where he came from. While he knows he will never be as terrible a parent as his own mother (it would be pretty hard for him to be that terrible), he still worries that some, small part of Syntyche might have still rubbed off on him.

He still worries on the morning that Arrya slips away to give birth.

He paces as she labours, then finally steps away for a moment to try and give her space, try and give her privacy (he doesn’t want his endless anxiety to rub off on her). But, when he cannot stand waiting any longer, he slips back into the hollow to join her. And the moment he does he’s frozen, staring.

Arrya stands in amongst the mess of birth, and at her side stands a beautiful little dark filly. Their child. Their daughter.

Arrya motions to him, and his halting feet carry him forward until he’s staring right down at the tiny little girl. He exhales as she reaches out to Arrya’s lights dancing about them. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath.

A light laugh slips out as she tries to repeat her mother’s words, and his eyes widen as Arrya latches upon the the girl’s speech. Rora. Their little Rora.

Then suddenly Rora is looking at him with a tiny pair of beautiful blue eyes, and the girl launches herself across the grass … only to land in a tangled heap. He grins as she stands and Arrya guides her forward, and his heart melts all over again when she cuddles up to his side, all warm and wiggly.

He watches, awed, as she makes her way back to Arrya, drinks her fill, then turns to look at them both with sleepy little eyes. Rhory steps forward to nuzzle at her, then looks up at Arrya to meet her eyes. “She’s beautiful.”


Rhory
I'll love you for a thousand more.

Blargh this post D: