IP: 82.14.67.140
Posted on March 16, 2013 at 01:26:58 AM by thoth
 i never learned to swim, how did i end up in the deep end? As the sound of footsteps close in on the door, Thoth has to fight the desperate urge to run back up the corridor. If it weren’t for his ankle and the knowledge that this has to be faced sooner or later, he would have. He stares at the bottom of the door and twists his fingers in his hand, listening to the scrape-click of the handle on the other side before it swings open. Automatically, he looks up into a face which is both familiar and yet different, as though memories have blurred how it’s meant to look. He takes in the additional lines on the face and new grey in the hair, but doesn’t register it consciously – the only thing he looks for is the expression. She looks over him at first and he shrinks a little, as if hoping that if he makes himself small enough then she won’t see him at all, but her eyes inevitably drop. Time seems to freeze for a moment, and Thoth holds his breath without realising it. Shock widens her eyes and sends her hand flying to her mouth, but there’s no immediate indicator whether it’s the good kind or the bad kind, or – or some kind of neutral – She sinks to her knees and pulls him towards her with a strength he hadn’t known she possesses. It’s the last reaction she’d expected, and for a fraction of a second he’s unable to respond, but then the warmth of fairy contact washes over him for the first time in months. Without a second thought, he wraps his arms around her neck and presses his face into her shoulder, breathing the familiar and vaguely flowery scent and feeling the fine fabric against her cheek. He can’t remember ever hugging Nimueh in his life; perhaps it’s because he’s spent the last four or five months in the sole company of ponies, but it feels… it feels like the wise words of a snake in one of Thoth’s favourite stories: you will see your family, you will fill your arms with your children; it is better than anything. Within the strength of the embrace, he can feel more keenly than ever before the emotions of the other person – the overwhelming relief riding above all else. The one person he had thought would be glad to be shot of him is holding him like a mother whose own child has come safely home. He is wanted. He is missed, and as more than a friend. After a moment she pushes him back and holds him at arm’s length in what Thoth recognises as the usual pre- telling-off action. He hangs onto her arms, unwilling to let go, as if he can stop her from sending him away just by physically holding on. He drops his eyes and sinks into his shoulders, waiting for the rebuke which doesn’t come. What she says instead inspires such a deep feeling of guilt that he can feel the tears beginning to build behind his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, feelingly and genuinely. “I didn’t know – ” His voice catches, and then the tears come. He hasn’t cried since the last time he was here; many months’ worth of unshed tears surface now. In mourning, in relief, in fear, he cries. He cries because of his mother’s never coming back; because of the long, hard months alone in the wilderness; because of the emotional turmoil of the last few hours; because of what the wolf had said of his father; because of his uncertain future, which may yet be spent in the company of uncaring strangers. But, mostly, he cries because he didn’t know that someone else was crying too. no way to tell who's winning the fight |
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