The Morning After The Years Before [for gunslingerqueen]

[toweredingly]

He came awake with a barely-stifled groan, tears still wet on his face and his arms empty, the song still ringing in his ears. The fire had burnt down to ash, and there was a grey caste to the sky, the not-yet-dawn of a day he was going to have to drag himself up into. Roland closed his eyes, weary and heartsick in every way, and listened to the morning, slowing his breathing down to almost nothing.

There was Nathan's breathing, a warm huffing close against his ears. Further off, he could hear Kaine toss and turn, and Alain's low, steady snoring. It all seemed too loud, too much, especially set against the other sounds of the camp. Somewhere, a throcken yelped, a disconcertingly human sound. Bert moaned quietly in his sleep, something that might have been a name or might just have been a cry. Roland closed his eyes more tightly, then, giving up abruptly, sat up.

There was a shape nearby that hadn't been there before. Even before he'd fully registered that, let alone recognised Nariko in the dim half-light, his gun had leapt into his hand like a live thing, and he was wide awake. Then he did recognise her, and the weapon fell out of his suddenly nerveless hand.

"...Nariko?"

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[askthelookout]

"That's the spirit!" Bert grinned at her, and leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth before turning away and vaulting into the saddle. "We'll do just fine. All of us. You'd best get ready to move, though. There's a long road ahead."