i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
He could, and would, take the blame for the bitter child she’s become. Perhaps he should have been there more, taken her with him on kingdom business, done the things a father is supposed to do with his daughter. But the harsh reality was he couldn’t. He didn’t know how. He was a warrior, a protector in the strongest sense of the word, but he was no father. And the truth was, to see her reminded him of her mother, and the memories of Smolder tasted nearly as sour as the memories of his own mother. (You left your own mother broken and bleeding. You fucked up what could have been a good thing with Smolder. You’re a lying bastard.) said the voices of doubt at the back of his mind. And so he’d pushed her away and built up a Berlin Wall, just tall enough that she could peak over but too tall to climb. Then he’d left her there, to grow as she saw fit, into the harsh tongued child that stood before him today.
She bled bitterness like blood. Its rotten scent permeated the air between them, and he was hard pressed not to curl his nostrils. Instead he pinned his ears at her, his own lips peeling back over his yellowed teeth. How dare she stand before him, a woman in child’s clothing, and blame him for her life. Truthfully he deserved it, needed every harsh word that she had to cut him with, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow. But soon the anger turns to sadness, both for himself and everything he hadn’t done for her. She was her mothers daughter, but she was as much his daughter too. He thought of Erebor- the prince wanted for nothing, and though his parents had never doted upon him, it was surely known that he was loved in some way. Smother had not been given that from him, but he‘d not known how. And it had been hard, looking into her tiny face and seeing only her mother staring back at him. An old mans folly. “Forgive me for asking about you’re well being. I only thought since you’re my child, and I’m the only parent you’ve ever known, save your nurse mare, that it might have been within my rights to ask.” he said, his eyes boring into hers unrelentingly. He doesn’t know where to start to rebuild the burnt bridges between them. At the shore would make the most sense, but even that has been burnt. Perhaps there is nothing left to say between them; severe ties now, and go their separate ways. Suddenly though, the words begin to tumble out and there’s nothing save for a dam that could stop them. “You look like you have more to say, and if that’s the case, then please, spit it out now. Save yourself the trouble of adding another skeleton to your closet. You can blame me for being indifferent to you, and maybe I was. I’m a warrior, Smother, not a caretaker of children. And your mother damn well knew that when she left you on the borders here, in the pouring rain, covered in after birth and crying for your life.” he said, pacing now, as the words flowed from his lips. He was agitated, like a caged cat making circles. “So while yes, I didn’t shower you in affections and bring you flowers and play chase with you, I didn’t leave you to the fucking wolves! I did my best, Smother, and I think maybe you could be grateful for that.” he yelled, his dark eyes glittering and his choked back emotions foreign to him. She was her mother made over, and could illicit the same responses out of him as Smolder could.
warship
