Hermione. [ She says this aloud upon reading Hermione's message, as though the other woman were to hear her. ] Oh, Hermione.
[ Because there is too much here—too much to take in, to unpack, to process. Too much to respond. She can't stop focusing on the admission that he hurt her, that she said no and he would not let it go. Of course Hermione would forgive him. Dear Hermione. She forgave Katsa herself, after all, and this nature is one reason Katsa loves her.
But try as she might she cannot understand it. ]
Friends don't attack each other. You shouldn't grow stronger because someone was cruel to you. He should have listened to you.
[ She's pacing now, upset as she is. Likely Hermione will not appreciate her response; as soon as Katsa sends it, she assumes this. She ought not to be telling Hermione what to feel. But she can't stop, fingers shaking on her reply, as though lecturing Hermione will take away Katsa's own fear. She had never, not once either in the Drabwurld or the Seven Kingdoms, told anyone of Gilgamesh, and it is suddenly clear to her how strongly she had held to herself how knowing him had made her feel. Speaking of it is harder, infinitely harder, than refusing to think of it at all.
It's shame as much as it is fear; and perhaps that's why she turns it towards Hermione now. ]
He called me a queen, too. And almost in the same breath that I belonged to him. A barking dog in a cage, and he would kill me. And had it not been for luck, he would have killed me, for all my Grace. It doesn't matter that he didn't finish the job. He would have, and he would not have been sorry for it. And it might have been the same with you.
[ Eight years and more removed from that time, and suddenly Katsa is twenty again and lost. ]
text;
[ Because there is too much here—too much to take in, to unpack, to process. Too much to respond. She can't stop focusing on the admission that he hurt her, that she said no and he would not let it go. Of course Hermione would forgive him. Dear Hermione. She forgave Katsa herself, after all, and this nature is one reason Katsa loves her.
But try as she might she cannot understand it. ]
Friends don't attack each other. You shouldn't grow stronger because someone was cruel to you. He should have listened to you.
[ She's pacing now, upset as she is. Likely Hermione will not appreciate her response; as soon as Katsa sends it, she assumes this. She ought not to be telling Hermione what to feel. But she can't stop, fingers shaking on her reply, as though lecturing Hermione will take away Katsa's own fear. She had never, not once either in the Drabwurld or the Seven Kingdoms, told anyone of Gilgamesh, and it is suddenly clear to her how strongly she had held to herself how knowing him had made her feel. Speaking of it is harder, infinitely harder, than refusing to think of it at all.
It's shame as much as it is fear; and perhaps that's why she turns it towards Hermione now. ]
He called me a queen, too. And almost in the same breath that I belonged to him. A barking dog in a cage, and he would kill me. And had it not been for luck, he would have killed me, for all my Grace. It doesn't matter that he didn't finish the job. He would have, and he would not have been sorry for it. And it might have been the same with you.
[ Eight years and more removed from that time, and suddenly Katsa is twenty again and lost. ]
That's why if he hurt you
[ This doesn't make any sense, does it? ]
I can't forgive him. I won't forgive him.