Clandestine. 》 Tyrion Lannister 《

Blessings

He held her in his arms as her shivers began to subside. She had been out of the North for far too long and wasn't as used to the cold weather as she had once been. And even though his body was  almost as cold as the cave he called home, he took pride in the fact that his hugs could still warm her.

“My sweetest girl,” he mumbled into her hair, his arms still wrapped around her. “How I wish I could be there tomorrow.”

“We could get married in this cave,” she joked.

He had been cursed by the Children of the Forest for a long time, and dealt with the many things that came with it, but this was by far the worst part of it. Being unable to pass The Wall never bothered him much before, but now it meant he would miss out on the most important day of his daughter's life. And for a brief moment, he thought of allowing the ceremony to actually happen in his freezing abode.

“Do you think anyone would mind?” he laughed. “It's not that cold. You're not trembling any more.”

“So long as you hug everyone the whole time, no one will freeze.”

He kissed her forehead and unwrapped himself from her. “I can only do so much.”

He sat down across from the fire he had built that morning. He was unsure of when she would arrive, but he wanted to be prepared. He poked and prodded at it all day, not allowing it to die down once, and began to do so again. She took a seat beside him, focusing on the roaring flames in front of her, avoiding the desire to rest her eyes on his face.

“You're worried about me,” he stated quietly. “I can see it in your body language.”

She lowered her head and sighed softly. She still refused to look at him. “Are you dying?” she asked quietly.

He took her hand in his and squeezed it. He knew his skin had grown paler and colder; he looked more like a White Walker every day. Seeing him like this the first time broke her heart, but it was worse now. She had only been gone for a few days, and it must have been difficult for her to grasp how quickly his appearance changed. It was difficult for him. He wished he could give her the answers she sought out, but he couldn't.

“I don't know,” he admitted. “I looked down at my hands one day and noticed it. I don't feel weaker, but I imagine I look it. Galena,” he said as he tilted his head down to examine her face. “Please look at me. I didn't send for you to stare at the side of your head.”

He groaned when she still averted him. “Are you afraid of me? Do I frighten you?” His voice cracked at his last words. Losing her was his biggest fear.

“No!” she insisted as she finally turned to meet his eyes. “I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of losing you!” She reached out and placed her hand across his cheek, and much to his surprise, she didn't flinch at his leathery skin. “It's bad enough that you have to live in this...hole, and that you can't be at my wedding, but now this curse is slowly taking you away from me. Forever.”

He tapped two fingers against her chest, right where her heart resided, and then against her left temple, “I will always be in your heart and in your memories. You will always have me.”

“My memories of you,” she spat bitterly, “are far and few between. You were barely present when I was growing up.”

He shut his eyes and inhaled sharply. He didn't foresee her turning bitter. She was so sweet just moments ago. But the words she spoke were true, and hurt more than anything he had ever experienced. If there was one thing he regretted most, it was his lack of parenting. Even when he was there, he wasn't. He often left his brother to the punishments and comforting, to the lessons and praising, to everything a father should have done. He never felt he was worthy of her. Ned knew her better; he knew of her likes and dislikes, her failures and her triumphs. Ned was more of a father to his niece than he ever was. Her uncle was her father.