02-21-2017, 01:37 PM
He smirked as soon as he heard her voice. Princess. She had always called him that, from the very first time they'd met. He couldn't remember now exactly what had brought it to brand itself to him, but he thought it may have had something to do with the fluid movement of a warrior's grace. A dance of death, he'd once been, a guardian to his brother-prince whom should have lived long enough to be king.
He masked the remnants of painful memories behind a blank face as she neared and bumped his shoulder. With a low chuckle and a careful grin, he replied something she probably expected to hear by now for how often it played back to her in answer. No. Ask me again tomorrow.
She and little Rora were the only ones that were ever allowed near enough to touch him. It had been a thing far more intimate for him in his culture, and sometimes he still had to force himself to hold still and allow it. But never with Arrya. Her close friendship was the exception, and perhaps her teeny girl as well. It made him strange in this world, and it wasn't like that for everyone back home, but it had been for him due to his station.
She is growing quickly.. He paused, turning his face away to study the flickering sunlight glowing in the gently waving grasses. Josie came to mind then, and the child she'd taken with her wherever she'd gone. His only child. His son. Maybe in some way, little Rora was a balm to that ache. Do you think you will be having another some day? An idle curiosity. Because he didn't think he would.