He said it because it was true. Not that he didn't think she was incapable of doing things. That wasn't it. He'd said as much a few minutes prior. But he knew even as a demigod she hated fighting. She avoided it-- she could stick up for herself when she wanted but, really, she was a nurturer. Not the other way around. Not a person who could see the need for someone sacrificing themselves in a battle. She'd always try to find a way around that and sometimes that wasn't possible.
He knew it. And he knew there would come a time where someone was going to die in some battle-- and it was going to be in a way where there was no other option. He could live with that, but he knew she'd hate it and beat herself up. That was why he was there, because at the end of the day when there needed to be someone who understood he was there. If, gods forbid, something had happened and a quest hinged on getting something back he knew she wouldn't be capable of leaving someone to fight if needed.
That was where their differences lie.
Ron knew he needed her, too. That had never been a problem. In the same way, it troubled him knowing how much he needed her. How many she needed to be around or to be safe or to not leave him. All of them, at once, jumbled in his stomach, he needed her for all of them and so much more. They were the reasons he was bound and determined to keep her safe, too, rather or not she liked it. She was home as much as this place was and maybe one day she'd understand that. Maybe. If he could voice it.
Instead, his throat filled with the cottony feeling as, indeed, he did follow her. His footsteps were heavy and his blue eyes bore into her skull. Even here he was a bit of an outcast, wasn't he? Ginger, blue eyes, not being so academic-- he wasn't really like his siblings either. Athena kid, sure, but at least it felt like Hermione belonged with her siblings-- he wasn't really sure about an oddity like him.
What was he even supposed to say or do? H e'd said the truth. Ron was doing it again, and he knew it. That was why he felt so uncomfortable when he took in her posture and heard her words. Even as his stomach rumbled dismally all he could do was clear his throat.
"Yeah, right," he mumbled, letting out a breath. And then, purely on instinct, his feet carried him the few strides closer and he made to grab for her arm.
no subject
He knew it. And he knew there would come a time where someone was going to die in some battle-- and it was going to be in a way where there was no other option. He could live with that, but he knew she'd hate it and beat herself up. That was why he was there, because at the end of the day when there needed to be someone who understood he was there. If, gods forbid, something had happened and a quest hinged on getting something back he knew she wouldn't be capable of leaving someone to fight if needed.
That was where their differences lie.
Ron knew he needed her, too. That had never been a problem. In the same way, it troubled him knowing how much he needed her. How many she needed to be around or to be safe or to not leave him. All of them, at once, jumbled in his stomach, he needed her for all of them and so much more. They were the reasons he was bound and determined to keep her safe, too, rather or not she liked it. She was home as much as this place was and maybe one day she'd understand that. Maybe. If he could voice it.
Instead, his throat filled with the cottony feeling as, indeed, he did follow her. His footsteps were heavy and his blue eyes bore into her skull. Even here he was a bit of an outcast, wasn't he? Ginger, blue eyes, not being so academic-- he wasn't really like his siblings either. Athena kid, sure, but at least it felt like Hermione belonged with her siblings-- he wasn't really sure about an oddity like him.
What was he even supposed to say or do? H e'd said the truth. Ron was doing it again, and he knew it. That was why he felt so uncomfortable when he took in her posture and heard her words. Even as his stomach rumbled dismally all he could do was clear his throat.
"Yeah, right," he mumbled, letting out a breath. And then, purely on instinct, his feet carried him the few strides closer and he made to grab for her arm.
"--Hermione."