She paces back and forth across the room. He watches her with silent, glittering jewels for eyes, each of them blank yet so beautiful. Her physical energy occupies what little space there is, and she overwhelms his mind with her emotions, though none of them seems related to him – or perhaps that is what she intended. She's become quite adept at blocking him out, after all.

"Wildcat. What is bothering you?" he asks, concerned. He holds his arms out to where her energy is at its concentrated state: she is stationary, perhaps because of his words. "Come here."

He can feel her hesitation for the briefest moment. Then he hears her steps echo as her boots hit the tiled floor, and she climbs onto his lap, much like a child he cuddles to sleep. He puts his arms around her, feeling as if he were embracing fire and warmth and spark. But there is a certain undertone to her thoughts that, though unreadable, makes him uneasy.

"Po, we're risking our own unhappiness for this kind of love, are we not?" she asks, referring to the dark forest and the bright fire, and both of them with conflicted thoughts. She was distraught and she had cried; and he had offered a way out of the cage that was marriage. He still remembers the conversations, and how she had wanted to run off, to escape. He had been afraid that she would leave. And, despite the tenuousness of the situation, she had assured him that she would stay.

"Yes," he says, a simple answer to her question. His voice is gentle, but he feels dread. It is not often that his instinct scratches its way out of his brain's recesses. Right now, it is strong, an alarm resounding through his head.

She takes a deep breath and opens to him a rush of words and images, all jumbled up. He can decipher them, nonetheless; for she is Katsa, and so he will understand what she has to say, the same way he understands the motions of her body and her tendency to drive her horse too hard. You told me that I do not have to be tied to you. That I can come and go even if it hurts you, even if it makes you unhappy.

"Yes." Sometimes, he wishes he could throw away this infernal Grace of his. For now he can see where this will lead, and the early warning only serves to agitate him. He wants to stop her. But he has made a promise, and he will stand by it, as she will stand by hers. It is cruel of him to trap her simply for his own desires. It is selfish – and he does not want to be selfish.

At least…at least she has deigned to tell him, and he can still feel her in his arms.

"I cannot…I have to go, Po. For a while. I promise you that I will come back." She puts a hand over his, and her touch sends him tingling. At the same time, he savors it. He might not experience it for a long time.

And, his voice hoarse, he says, "Do not promise something you may not be able to keep, Katsa. Or else you will only make me hope, and what hurts more than an unfulfilled hope?"

She sighs, and he knows that she will agree. "Very well. You do have a point. But, Po – I will try. I cannot seal my words with a vow, but I will try. I love you, no matter what. It is simply that my feet must keep moving, and I have to be on my own."

"I know, Katsa, I know. It will hurt me more if you choose to stay, when I feel you cannot bear it."

Her lips are on his, and his heart aches so much. He releases her, and she stands. He can taste the sweetness of her lips lingering on his tongue. He listens to the sound of her fading footsteps, grasping wildly for her consciousness as she moves out of his range. Her fire, her warmth, her spark – all of them gone, and he is left empty and cold. He whispers to the silence.

"Katsa. Wildcat. I will always love you."


Graceling flashfic/oneshot.

Please share your thoughts. Was it in character? Did the story's rhythm flow well? Was it something that would happen in the world of the Seven Kingdoms? Did the storyline fit with what we know of the characters' personalities?

Feedback is appreciated.