Rey
I've always known what was best for me, so when Arthas commands me to follow I simply do. No questions, no hesitation. We walk easily enough, forgotten shafts of the evening sun’s last rays striking one or both of our pelts every now and again. Nightfall will come and the terrors with it, but Arthas holds them at bay and I’m so tired as it is that I hardly think of of them at all.
Straying from their place, my bleached lips often reach ahead just to touch the rolling curves of his hindquarters for a sense of reality. I need to feel grounded more than anything right now, since the endless rows of similar trees are beginning to crowd against one another and the shadows are growing longer. An oily sensation of dread bubbles up from my chest, exploding out from my mouth in a series of racking coughs that break the stillness around us.
Just when I think another step is impossible, Arthas moves aside to touch my shoulder and usher me ahead. He wants me to sleep here, surrounded by a copse of magnificent birch that weave themselves together tight enough to block out the night sky, so I pass inward slowly (kissing his broad shoulder sweetly as I go) and I lie down. I faintly remember watching the immobile silhouette of my stallion, my King, standing guard and then a dead weight settles over my eyes. I pass out.
In the morning I wake covered with summer dew, the wounds that had scared my companion so terribly are gone. In their place are four tattoos: two slightly curved lines above my withers and two small circles on my still-white breast.
“Arthas?” I call out in a raspy voice, overused and scratched from my hacking cough. I search for him wildly, struggling to stand up on aching feet. He’s not moved, (thank god for an angel like this one) so I breath a heavy sigh of relief and move towards the entrance once more, running my cheek over his dappled coat before I come to stand beside him.
“Thank you. For keeping watch.” I murmur unsteadily, leaning the weight of my body into his. “You’re incredible, you know that? Mary has a perfect father.” I realize, every word covered in the truth.
No one’s ever cared about me the way Arthas has.
“I wouldn’t mind … I really wouldn’t mind giving her a sibling.” I wheeze softly, unable to speak louder. “That is … well. If I don’t disgust you, looking like this.” I mutter, lowering a once proud head near his shoulder. Somehow I feel much less able to stand against his wife, Lepis. My pride has taken a harsh blow.
don't go screaming if I blow you with a bang
@[Arthas] So since this is before she gives her regenerative healing to Bane (and since Carnage technically healed them all) I figure that overnight her wounds heal up and leave Carnage’s ‘mark’, the tattoos. Just for clarity!