milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Thank you."

He leans against her, then, face in her shoulder and taking what comfort there is.

"I killed someone once, you know."

She isn't, perhaps, what one would think of when they picture a mother - and, quite frankly, she has no particular desire to be. But in the end she is a mother and there are the ones - every once and a while - that she finds herself fond of. The ones who push and worm there way into some permanent place where they are hers first and foremost.

So she does know a bit about this whole business.

"It does happen, dear - even to the bright little ones like you."

"Everyone thinks I am too good to have killed someone."

Jack's never sure what to say.

"It is not really a matter of good, little love."

She tilts her head, hair falling - a tangled, dark curtain - over her shoulders.

"The nymph is a Hell-river - you have killed someone. It has nothing to do with you being good, dear. It is what you do and what you are - such things do not always have to make you."

"Thank you, Lady."

He yawns, and tugs at a strand of her hair. He isn't sure why he's been so tired recently.

"It's almost a year since I met you first."

Since he died, he means.

A lazy grin, dark eyes rolling skyward.

"And you were a pain even then, dear."

"I didn't want to go. It looked dreadful. And I was right, was I not? It just took a little waiting."

He never wants to die again.

Very few do.

She rubs lightly at the red smear with one thumb, eyes shuttering slightly.

"I was only kidding - and things were set back to where they belong."

"I know."

He shrugs. He isn't offended.

"I am going to avoid that happening again this year."

"That seems like a good idea."

She smiles again, voice brightened with amusement.

"I do rather like the both of you in one neat piece, little love."

"What will happen when I die?"

She gets him.

"Do your friends get thrown into the river too?"

"It is a matter of fare, dear. Also of cheating. The nymph loves cheating - slipping coins and whispering sweet words."

Even she takes care of her important people.

There are not very many, but she takes care of them all the same.

"I do not see you drowning, little love."

"I should hate to."

He sighs, and adjusts, so he's more comfortable leaning against her.

"Thank you. I only really got a soul by accident."

She's rather cushy, to be honest. It's all the curvy lines.

"Some accidents really only happen because they are supposed to. You are important to my sweet thing, after all."

Jack sighs, a bit for both of them, because tendrils of Frost are curling through him slowly. The two merging gently, being together.

"Most welcome, love."

Her lips curve slowly once more, lashes low.

"Always and only for you."

He, (Frost,) leans up and kisses the side of her jaw, a cool promise.

She hums lightly, chin tilting obligingly and smile curving into a grin.

"Just as long as all of this sap stays nice and quiet."

A low chuckle.

"I have something of a reputation to be taking care of."

Really badly, really.

"I know, sweet thing."

She does pay attention sometimes.

"I did not so much mind - he is clever, your boy."

"

He slides an arm around her, suddenly, and draws her close, so he can press a kiss to her temple.

"Do you not want some coddling of your own, love?"

Her eyes are bright, voice teasing and fingers snaking lightly at his neck.

"Though you know I will gladly follow."

He sheer beauty, potency, grace, power, respelendance.

His fingers trace the words, the thoughts, on her skin where they touch.

"Oh," she murmurs and the words taper off into a pleased purr, eyes closed to slits.

Leaning closer.

"That sounds rather inspired as well, love."

He rests his forehead against her shoulder.