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A Child Named Thistle
Continuing the super non-canon AU of death and torment!
Start here first,
then second,
then third,
and this is fourth.
My sword.
Any last doubts he'd had vanished with those words - Cya's words, even spoken in a child's voice.
"I'll wait forever, if you tell me to." He lifted his head cautiously - oh, no, she was crying. He might be a little as well, but that wasn't... that was less important. His lady was crying. A young girl was crying.
He sat up, quickly dusting off his hands, and pulled out a handkerchief before slowly reaching out - she didn't pull away - and drying her tears. At only ten years old and without Cya's trademark red hair, with the natural brown that few people had even seen, no one but him, he thought, would recognize her.
"Thistle," he murmured, half to her, half to himself. This girl's name was Thistle, and while she clearly had some of Cya's memories, he reminded himself, this was a new life, for her. She'd asked for "the blond warrior", after all. "My name is Leofric Lightning-Blade; you can call me Leo. I... I'm here to serve and protect you." He couldn't tell her the full truth; she was only a child. Having a grown adult's life dependent on her was too much responsibility.
A quick glance around the room revealed no one else but a couple of the guards. She'd been travelling by herself? As a child? "Will there be anyone else looking for you?"
After a moment hesitation, she shook her head. "No."
No, of course not. She was always being left alone. Except now he would be there for her, from the beginning. Maybe it would make up at least a tiny fraction for how completely he'd failed her, the first time.
"Come with me? I'll take you to my home; you can stay there as long as you want."
She nodded, and he took her - "may I carry you?" "yes, please" - to his house, settling her in the living room, making her something to eat, telling her where everything was - "you can have the guest room for your own, if you want; I never have guests." He recognized exactly what he was doing; if he focused on her, on what she needed and wanted, on doing things for her, he didn't have to stop and think about what was happening.
It would come eventually, thinking. He didn't want to know what would happen when it did.
He placed the food in front of her - one of Cya's favorites - and sat at the end of the coffee table with his tea, studying her for a moment.
"Whatever you know," he said quietly as she looked up, "or don't know, whatever you choose to do - whenever you choose it - it's okay. I'll be here for anything you need. And..." He hesitated, unsure if he should continue. She was Cya, yes, but she was also a child named Thistle. He should at least offer her the option of having a real childhood. "There's a school? Doomsday Academy. I teach there. I think you might be the right age to start taking classes, if you think it would be useful."
Start here first,
then second,
then third,
and this is fourth.
My sword.
Any last doubts he'd had vanished with those words - Cya's words, even spoken in a child's voice.
"I'll wait forever, if you tell me to." He lifted his head cautiously - oh, no, she was crying. He might be a little as well, but that wasn't... that was less important. His lady was crying. A young girl was crying.
He sat up, quickly dusting off his hands, and pulled out a handkerchief before slowly reaching out - she didn't pull away - and drying her tears. At only ten years old and without Cya's trademark red hair, with the natural brown that few people had even seen, no one but him, he thought, would recognize her.
"Thistle," he murmured, half to her, half to himself. This girl's name was Thistle, and while she clearly had some of Cya's memories, he reminded himself, this was a new life, for her. She'd asked for "the blond warrior", after all. "My name is Leofric Lightning-Blade; you can call me Leo. I... I'm here to serve and protect you." He couldn't tell her the full truth; she was only a child. Having a grown adult's life dependent on her was too much responsibility.
A quick glance around the room revealed no one else but a couple of the guards. She'd been travelling by herself? As a child? "Will there be anyone else looking for you?"
After a moment hesitation, she shook her head. "No."
No, of course not. She was always being left alone. Except now he would be there for her, from the beginning. Maybe it would make up at least a tiny fraction for how completely he'd failed her, the first time.
"Come with me? I'll take you to my home; you can stay there as long as you want."
She nodded, and he took her - "may I carry you?" "yes, please" - to his house, settling her in the living room, making her something to eat, telling her where everything was - "you can have the guest room for your own, if you want; I never have guests." He recognized exactly what he was doing; if he focused on her, on what she needed and wanted, on doing things for her, he didn't have to stop and think about what was happening.
It would come eventually, thinking. He didn't want to know what would happen when it did.
He placed the food in front of her - one of Cya's favorites - and sat at the end of the coffee table with his tea, studying her for a moment.
"Whatever you know," he said quietly as she looked up, "or don't know, whatever you choose to do - whenever you choose it - it's okay. I'll be here for anything you need. And..." He hesitated, unsure if he should continue. She was Cya, yes, but she was also a child named Thistle. He should at least offer her the option of having a real childhood. "There's a school? Doomsday Academy. I teach there. I think you might be the right age to start taking classes, if you think it would be useful."