Darling, don't be afraid. I have loved you for a thousand years.
God how he wishes he knew what to do.
Rhory stands there awkwardly, staring at Arrya as her face twists at some unknown pain. She’s not crying any more though, which is something … but when she finally opens her mouth to answer he can’t understand why.
“He what?!”
Now, Rhory has always been a kinder, gentler sort, despite his large size (and in complete contradiction to what his many scars seem to suggest). But when Arrya reveals what he’d done … what Gendry, his best friend, had done to her, something snaps inside of him.
Rage bubbles up from a place he hadn’t known existed, filling every inch of his massive, old scarred body. He trembles with the need to do something, to rend, to tear, but the object of his ire isn’t anywhere he can reach.
“Where is he Arrya? Where, the fuck, is he?” He thinks of Gendry, with his new family and new children, leaving Arrya, his Arrya behind without a second thought and his anger boils. “I’m going to fucking kill him. Where the fuck is he?”
But she’s still talking somehow, and through his anger he can hear a note of self-derision enter her voice that he does not like one bit. “What the fuck do you mean Arrya, that he finally figured out what everyone else knew a long time ago? Don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re anything less than amazing, just because he’s an asshole. You deserve far, far better than what he’s done to you.”
His dark hoof paws at the cave floor. “And no Arrya, you’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here with me. Well, you’re staying here and I’m going to track that bastard down and kick his fucking face in. Where is he?”
I'll love you for a thousand more.
:|