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CLOSED: robb stark and clary fray
Who: Robb Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
northborn) & Clary Fray / Fairchild (obstinance)
What: robb circling like an agitated wolf around sleeping clary until she finally wakes up and literally falls out of her pod on top of him oops
When: backdated to clary emerging from stasis/canon update
Where: stasis pods, thesa station
Warning(s): nah
[ It has been three. days.
Robb had hoped, had prayed to any new or old god in this world that might have a care to listen, that he needn't go through the agony of losing someone to the uncertainty of stasis again. So many never returned... Some— some took weeks, months, and when they awoke, retained none of their memories after The Storm. He'd watched alliances and friendships simply crumble into dust as a result.
It was with Clary that he'd first learned the mechanics of it. They'd both lost loved ones to slumber. With Jon and Sansa, he'd been fortunate. Clary... she had yet to see her family again. This was only a month ago, and the wounds and fear are still fresh, easily provoked to pain and doubts that keep Robb up at night.
Now, Clary is the one to have disappeared. Their friendship is still new and tender, a sapling warm and cared for in foreign earth, but vulnerable. When she first vanished, he'd kept up appearances, shoulders set and spine straight like a sword and hilt as he assured the friends they had in common she would be safe, she would return to them. But what if she did return, and recalled nothing of her time here? Worse still... what if she slept unto eternity?
In truth, behind closed doors... he's a wreck.
He has visited her pod each day, some days multiple times, checking for any sign of change in her pod.
Has she moved? Does her breath come easily? Did her eyelids just flutter?
Sometimes he simply remains by her side and talks to her. Pretends the echo of his own voice is her responding, instead.
Sansa has a chill about her, now that she's back. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. She's told me tales of her time back in our world that I shudder to imagine — that I would bleed myself dry to erase — but even so... I think she's hiding something from me.
Jon died, Clary. He died, and was resurrected by a Red Woman. He finally confessed this to me. Murdered by his comrades. I— I fear I left him to this fate, by not intervening when we were younger.
There's a young man from the Riverlands with us now. His name is Willem. He makes Theon uneasy, but I find I can take no enjoyment in that, despite how I might wish it...
Each time he shares a secret, palm placed against the glass near hers, Clary remains serene in her sleep. Calm. It's a balm to him in one moment, reminding him to keep his own calm and wits about him... and infuriating the next, because she refuses to wake up.
On the third day, circling around her pod with his cloak swishing behind him like an angry wolf's tail, he shouts at her — uncharacteristic, unbecoming, he just bellows at her prone form, telling her she's being selfish, and irresponsible, and if she has any hope of being any use to Jace or Izzy or Simon when they return she needs to come back, damn it— ]
—you've just abandoned them by doing this, you know! You need to be here, you need to remember, so you can help them cope when they return, so you can—
[ Robb stops abruptly when he hears something crack. For one brief, terrifying moment, he actually thinks he's shattered the glass of her pod. ]
northborn) & Clary Fray / Fairchild (obstinance) What: robb circling like an agitated wolf around sleeping clary until she finally wakes up and literally falls out of her pod on top of him oops
When: backdated to clary emerging from stasis/canon update
Where: stasis pods, thesa station
Warning(s): nah
[ It has been three. days.
Robb had hoped, had prayed to any new or old god in this world that might have a care to listen, that he needn't go through the agony of losing someone to the uncertainty of stasis again. So many never returned... Some— some took weeks, months, and when they awoke, retained none of their memories after The Storm. He'd watched alliances and friendships simply crumble into dust as a result.
It was with Clary that he'd first learned the mechanics of it. They'd both lost loved ones to slumber. With Jon and Sansa, he'd been fortunate. Clary... she had yet to see her family again. This was only a month ago, and the wounds and fear are still fresh, easily provoked to pain and doubts that keep Robb up at night.
Now, Clary is the one to have disappeared. Their friendship is still new and tender, a sapling warm and cared for in foreign earth, but vulnerable. When she first vanished, he'd kept up appearances, shoulders set and spine straight like a sword and hilt as he assured the friends they had in common she would be safe, she would return to them. But what if she did return, and recalled nothing of her time here? Worse still... what if she slept unto eternity?
In truth, behind closed doors... he's a wreck.
He has visited her pod each day, some days multiple times, checking for any sign of change in her pod.
Has she moved? Does her breath come easily? Did her eyelids just flutter?
Sometimes he simply remains by her side and talks to her. Pretends the echo of his own voice is her responding, instead.
Sansa has a chill about her, now that she's back. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. She's told me tales of her time back in our world that I shudder to imagine — that I would bleed myself dry to erase — but even so... I think she's hiding something from me.
Jon died, Clary. He died, and was resurrected by a Red Woman. He finally confessed this to me. Murdered by his comrades. I— I fear I left him to this fate, by not intervening when we were younger.
There's a young man from the Riverlands with us now. His name is Willem. He makes Theon uneasy, but I find I can take no enjoyment in that, despite how I might wish it...
Each time he shares a secret, palm placed against the glass near hers, Clary remains serene in her sleep. Calm. It's a balm to him in one moment, reminding him to keep his own calm and wits about him... and infuriating the next, because she refuses to wake up.
On the third day, circling around her pod with his cloak swishing behind him like an angry wolf's tail, he shouts at her — uncharacteristic, unbecoming, he just bellows at her prone form, telling her she's being selfish, and irresponsible, and if she has any hope of being any use to Jace or Izzy or Simon when they return she needs to come back, damn it— ]
—you've just abandoned them by doing this, you know! You need to be here, you need to remember, so you can help them cope when they return, so you can—
[ Robb stops abruptly when he hears something crack. For one brief, terrifying moment, he actually thinks he's shattered the glass of her pod. ]
no subject
her legs, as it turns out, feel almost too new as a consequence of their lack of use. it doesn't strike her immediately; for all that clary is aware, she's still back home, standing at the edge of a lake and aching, no matter the relief at driving a knife through valentine again and again. the bruises have mostly healed, even if her emotional injuries still feel as fresh as she tries to slot what information she has together in recognition of her familiar surroundings. not home, the storm, missing memories is all she can manage in explanation while she grimaces and tumbles forward, right onto —
where she'd been anticipating steel and metal, there's only heaviness and warmth. it still hurts, evident by her incredulous, ] Ow. What — [ as she squints and pushes up, with her hands, only successfully moving herself off of him and to the side, spread out on her back as she blinks and looks over at what she had crashed into. ] Robb?
[ ... well, that solves that mystery, even if she still looks incredulous and a little bewildered. ]