when your dreams have ended

He couldn't think straight. Not necessarily a novel quality in her presence, but significant nevertheless. He'd long since given up fighting the urge to unravel in her presence, as it was a sensation so visceral he wished he could find some way to bottle it. As it was, the best he could get outside of her putting himself purposefully in her path, were his crystalline memories. Often those memories were the only thing he had to torture himself, though it was never enough. It would never be enough. 

His addiction to her was corrosive, destructive, and wholly selfish. His instinct was to self destruct, to ruin anything good beyond viability so that they might achieve what they both deserved. She a life without him and him without her. Two sides of the same doomed coin. One for her own good, the other because there was nothing good in this world meant for him. Of that he'd learned that a long time ago. A warden's life was fated towards a miserable termination. The lucky ones were consumed in dragon fire, and the rest succumbed to The Taint. His twisted and selfish logic thought to spare her from the torment of that sort of lose but instead he created an entirely new kind of torment. A torment that ultimately led them here; her mind erased of core memories so that she might find some peace without his fetid shadow to cloud such a freedom. 

And look what that got them. Look what it got him. Misery and chronic heartache.  Now with a brand new pain of  knowing that this little one deserved so much more than what he could give her. 

Ragnar smiled at her when she corrected him. Alyvia. He nodded with a smile as he parroted her name back to her with a stiff bow being the only formality he could offer with a wiggly toddler in his arms. His wiggly toddler. It was a stage he'd never had a chance to experience with Raphael. But then the only thing he'd ever got to experience with Raphael was how deeply a son's resentment might run for the father that left him behind. 

Their attentions both fell to the girl in his arms. Carina. He repeated it in his mind numerous times before he smiled back at the sting creeping up to the corners of his eyes. He cleared his throat and tugged at her tunic as it wrinkled between them. You're going to do great things Carina. He murmured as he rested his cheek on her head and continued to guide her hand along the velvet soft snoot of the calmed horse. The latter chuffed through her nostrils, causing Carina to giggle melodically, a sound that instantly broke his heart into even tinier pieces. It was a sound he might've reveled in for an untold amount of time had he not spotted a familiar face pacing towards them. The one he knew as Marie scowled at him as he caught her eye. He could see that even from where they stood across the paddock yard. 

His expression paled as she  neared, pinning him with that stubborn sneer. And when she finally stopped and nearly ripped Carina from his arms, he felt his stomach drop. He offered little opposition as Carina seemed all too excited to be swept into her sister's arms. 

Mother can I speak with you? She sidled up next to their mother, back now to Ragnar in case he had any delusions he was welcome in such a conversation. 

Quickly, he busied himself with attentions to the mare, walking along her far side so as to give them whatever privacy they needed.