[Oh yes, she was strong, and he was so proud. But as her father he'd be proud of her no matter what she did, no matter what happened. She was his daughter, his little angel, and he'd love her regardless of whether she stood strong or fell to the ground in a sobbing mess. He'd love her even if she hated him.]
I am. I'm right here.
[His arms wide, he approaches her slowly. He wants to just run to her, to pull her into his arms and tell her how much he loves her and how much he missed her, but he's hesitant for a reason yet unspoken, as if afraid of her reaction to his presence. Regardless of how she receives him, and regardless of how strong she is, he's crumbling. This was his baby girl whom he thought he'd never see again. He'd died without saying goodbye, despite knowing his fate was almost certain. He'd left her fate up to the skill of his best men, but still to chance. The guilt was masked, but still present on his expression which was otherwise nothing but reverent towards his daughter.]
no subject
I am. I'm right here.
[His arms wide, he approaches her slowly. He wants to just run to her, to pull her into his arms and tell her how much he loves her and how much he missed her, but he's hesitant for a reason yet unspoken, as if afraid of her reaction to his presence. Regardless of how she receives him, and regardless of how strong she is, he's crumbling. This was his baby girl whom he thought he'd never see again. He'd died without saying goodbye, despite knowing his fate was almost certain. He'd left her fate up to the skill of his best men, but still to chance. The guilt was masked, but still present on his expression which was otherwise nothing but reverent towards his daughter.]