epidemiology | ( closed. )

CHARACTERS: assorted foolhardy souls
DATE: spanning a few days
WARNINGS: none atm; but arya and nymeria are both terrible
SUMMARY: meetings and follow-ups; pm for a starter

[ every night since she was brought to this dead world, her dreams have been empty. a belly empty of dream meat. ears empty of the songs of her little grey cousins. a heart, empty. as if something that had always been there…abruptly gone.

the kindly man would be pleased if he knew. if she told him. she would not even if she could. she would never be able to lie well enough. if he asked her how it felt, she fears the tears would choke her voice. she goes to bed each night hoping. she wakes each morning disappointed.

she has been so many people. maybe it was only a matter of time before she truly began to lose her hold on arya stark. the kindly man would look on her proudly. a sorrowful nostalgia blooms blackened flowers in a chest left aching and hollow.

until she wakes to a hot puff of air across her face.

her room is dark, the bed warm. she can feel the presence, warmer even than the bed, smelling of pine and soil and air and something older, something deeper. it's the smell of the northern wind rattling her shutters. it's the smell of her favorite red blanket when she wrapped herself in it. it's the smell of the warm grey walls of winterfell. it's the smell of her wolf when she would sneak the pup into her bed and nymeria would sleep curled up at the foot of her bed.

a tear squeezes past eyes still closed, then another. a rough tongue laps at the salt on her cheek. arya sobs, her mouth stretching into a watery grin.

her eyes blink open. nymeria is a shadow darker than those behind her, but her eyes glimmer strangely gold.

arya throws her arms around the wolf's neck. trembling, she clings to nymeria. the wolf makes a noise low in her throat and noses sweetly at her hair and shoulder. arya cries and arya laughs, until, spent, she tangles her fingers through the long thick fur. she breathes a gentle, contented sigh. ]

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[ ...he shrugs lightly. ]

Ah, well, because I wanted to.

[ which is true. he did want to leave; his society was stagnant and corrupt, he'd never belonged there and he wasn't ever going to, that much had been clear. but it wasn't simple boredom or wanderlust that finally drove him away so swiftly and completely from home, no. after what happened... he was afraid, he had no choice. they had no choice. he and his granddaughter, fleeing their planet in the night.

but it was a very long time ago. it doesn't matter anymore. he's old and he ought to have accepted by now that he'll never live there again. ]

I wanted to see the universe. [ he shoots a hand up through the air, skyward. ] Never could stand standing still, me. I've been traveling ever since, anywhere and everywhere.

[ flashes a grin, watching her expression. some people find the idea of a life like that - constantly on the move, never settling anywhere for long - quite appealing. enviable, a dream come true, even. but there are others who can't even wrap their head around the concept. who'd ever want to leave their home? it's a terrible notion to them, or worse, just plain pitiful.

it can really tell you everything you need to know, about someone's situation. ]

[ where do those without a home and nowhere else to go but where the current would carry them fit?

zokla tips her head, expression unchanging. practically, she queries, ] Do you have your own ship?

[ he must to travel so much. ]

[ the ones who don't have to imagine what it's like.

oh, if it isn't one of his favorite topics. ] I have the best ship.

[ sorry, every other ship, those are the facts. ]

But not the seafaring type. Mine travels among the stars. She can go wherever I like, any world in any time, in an instant.

[ which sounds like a ridiculous flight of fancy, of course, but he says it with complete conviction. ]

[ it sounds like a story old nan would tell. it sounds so good it can only be impossible. even here where worlds have died and dragons fly above the battlements and her wolf has been wonderfully, unbelievably returned to her…

some things are impossible.

but — ]

Where is it now?

[ he sighs, sitting back. ]

Waiting in my universe, I expect... growing crosser by the minute. She didn't come with me.

[ he talks about her as if she's a person as much as a vessel. she is - she's more than that, she's so very many things at once to him.

it's not the first time they've been separated for a long time, he suspects it won't be the last. he can cope, but it doesn't make it sting any less. ]

If I had her, we wouldn't be stuck sitting round here like this, trust me.

You wouldn't stay?

[ following their last conversation, a little furrow forms between her brows. ]

Oh. Not [ he indicates the walls surrounding them, looks up at the ceiling ] in here.

There's a multiverse in danger. ALASTAIR's doing the best it can [ probably], but the weeks are plodding by. If I could, I'd be out there doing something about it right now.

[ he's only waiting about for mission dossiers because he hasn't got another choice. ]

[ another time and her eyes would have lit up with hope. she would have pleaded, cajoled, persuaded, bought a place for her. i can cook or clean, she would have voiced, quick to prove she's no useless mouth. or me and nymeria could be your protection, she would have offered. she is quick. nymeria is strong. even if he disbelieved her, nymeria's power is undeniable. and the direwolf goes nowhere without her.

but that was a different girl who believed if she only found a ship she might make it home. zokla has a home: braavos. every purple ship eventually turns back to braavos no matter how far out to the sea it ventures.

so instead she says, ] I hope you find her, [ meaning every word as much because he plainly misses his ship as she would like to see such a thing herself. ]

( closed. )

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