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love is the death of duty
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THE SYMPTOMS OF CHANGE were unknown to Hermione, but the side effects were clear as day. So as the bride-to-be watches as Robb closes the door behind him she takes a deep shuttering breath. That conversation had taken too much out of her and as Hermione turns to the full-length mirror, she mentally marks this down as another side effect.
The woman staring back at her isn't the same one who arrived at Winterfell almost two years ago. No longer gossamer silk, the porcelain doll the Dornish septas had turned her into. This woman was hardened by war and kissed by death herself. A fire ignited in the palm of her hand and for a second Hermione thinks, Maybe I can be more.
No, she extinguishes it. Hermione would play her role to end this war. Haven't you deterred enough from your path? Caused enough trouble?
She exhales as thoughts of fleeing slither out of her mind. Nothing of this day was how she imagined it would be. From the man she's marrying to the dress of gold and cream she's wearing. Her mother is dead and her father nowhere to be found. With the exception of the Starks, Hermione feels alone.
Her hand reaches up and clutches onto the gold necklace. It had been crudely mended after she had ripped it off her neck in the heat of their argument, but it was there nonetheless and that's what mattered.
There's a soft knock on her door and Mary peeks her head inside. "Are you ready?"
Hermione shakes her head, Would she ever be ready?
"Well," the handmaid sighs, a hint of a smile playing on her face as she enters the room fully. "Ready or not, I've been instructed to drag you out of here and down that hall." Hermione laughs and it feels good with Mary. To talk about something other than death, men, or war.
The blonde girl picks up the gold veil laying across the bed and clips it into Hermione's hair. "Am I doing the right thing?" Hermione questions, her eyes looking at Mary through the mirror as she smoothes out the newly formed tangles in lady's hair. "I don't feel like I'm doing the right thing, Mary. I feel like... like I want to run away and never turn back..." her lips purse and for a second she loses herself in thought. "That girl, that naïve little girl that I was, sometimes I wish I were her again. Foolish, thinking that there was a clear line between good and evil. I just want want somebody to tell me what I'm supposed to do. Someone to tell me if I'm doing the right thing." Hermione admits with grievance. "Because Robb apologized for everything that happened between us and it suddenly dawned on me that most of it was my fault. If I had never wanted to be a part of this war so bad. Been so hell bent of proving myself. If I had just stayed in Winterfell—I mean you and Thalia and Leo are all paying a price because I was selfish—
