16.Jun.18, 11:17 AM
N’mor looked up at R’nd when the bluerider held his hand out to him, but he didn’t hesitate in putting his own in it, and allowing the man to pull him to his feet. N’mor was slightly taller than his father, but he had the gangly and youthful build of a teenager; he certainly felt like a lost child as he clung to R’nd, ear pressed to the bluerider’s chest so he could hear the soothing sound of his heart. He really wanted his dad, but he was glad R’nd hadn’t turned him away at the door, or when he found out how badly N’mor had fucked everything up.
When R’nd said he should talk to T’ryn, N’mor shook his head against R’nd’s chest, trembling. “I can’t,” he said softly, shaking his head again. He’d already bared his heart and soul, offered them on a platter to T’ryn and he’d just… And R’nd wanted him to go back and do it again? The pain, it hurt too much! N’mor didn’t think he’d ever be able to pick up all the pieces, how could he willingly offer them to be stomped on and made even smaller? “I can’t,” he whispered, agony in his voice. “He’ll do it again,” N’mor had never been afraid of T’ryn, and he’d certainly never been afraid of anyone else, but he’d also spent the Turns before R’nd watching his father beg N’mall not to hurt him – physically, emotionally – and the man promise, only to twist the knife when his father wasn’t looking.
That wasn’t to say N’mor didn’t want to save his friendship with his best friend; the idea of losing T’ryn entirely was worse than anything else N’mor had ever felt. But he was feeling weak, and vulnerable and – on top of everything else – N’mor had always had a thick streak of pride. He wasn’t the one that walked out the door, he wasn’t the one that turned his back, he wasn’t the one that didn’t say anything! Why did he have to be the one to seek out T’ryn? Shouldn’t it be T’ryn seeking him out?
In his heart, N’mor knew being the one to take the plunge first would be the bigger and better thing to do. But between his hurt and his pride, he just kept shaking his head against R’nd’s chest and struggling internally. His heart wanted him to, but his heart had never been strong enough to contend with his stubborn mind.
When R’nd said he should talk to T’ryn, N’mor shook his head against R’nd’s chest, trembling. “I can’t,” he said softly, shaking his head again. He’d already bared his heart and soul, offered them on a platter to T’ryn and he’d just… And R’nd wanted him to go back and do it again? The pain, it hurt too much! N’mor didn’t think he’d ever be able to pick up all the pieces, how could he willingly offer them to be stomped on and made even smaller? “I can’t,” he whispered, agony in his voice. “He’ll do it again,” N’mor had never been afraid of T’ryn, and he’d certainly never been afraid of anyone else, but he’d also spent the Turns before R’nd watching his father beg N’mall not to hurt him – physically, emotionally – and the man promise, only to twist the knife when his father wasn’t looking.
That wasn’t to say N’mor didn’t want to save his friendship with his best friend; the idea of losing T’ryn entirely was worse than anything else N’mor had ever felt. But he was feeling weak, and vulnerable and – on top of everything else – N’mor had always had a thick streak of pride. He wasn’t the one that walked out the door, he wasn’t the one that turned his back, he wasn’t the one that didn’t say anything! Why did he have to be the one to seek out T’ryn? Shouldn’t it be T’ryn seeking him out?
In his heart, N’mor knew being the one to take the plunge first would be the bigger and better thing to do. But between his hurt and his pride, he just kept shaking his head against R’nd’s chest and struggling internally. His heart wanted him to, but his heart had never been strong enough to contend with his stubborn mind.