Cloudy Nights [X Reader ver.]

Reunited

As it turns out being trapped in ice for thousands of years makes you pretty exhausted as evident with how Y/n had muttered a quiet "Papa.' before immediately passing out into his arms.

After a quick check of her pulse to make sure she was still alive, and the spell hadn't failed, he picked her up bridle style and with the snap of his fingers they were now in his living room.

He laid her down on his couch—though it was a little dusty on account of him not using it very often—so he could get a spare blanket.

He opened the closet door and grabbed a blanket—which most likely smelled of dust bunnies and that musky scent that comes with things stuffed into a closet for over a year. --and grabbed it.

When he got back to the living room, he spotted her squirming body rolling on the couch with her face scrunched up in terror.

He quickly discarded the blanket as she teetered over the edge and started to fall off the couch before he rushed to catch her.

The fall seemed to have woken her from her exhaustion if only to torture her with not knowing what was real and what was a dream.

It had gotten too much for the man. It pained him to have to see his daughter like this.

He sat her on the carpeted floor holding onto her shoulders so she wouldn't fall over in her panic and said, "Y/n, I need you to breath."

His words just barely pierced through her haze as her eyes shot to him though that also served to make it worse as a river seamed to

He panicked—turns out not having meaningful human contact for a few thousand years makes you pretty inept at comforting people—and quickly pulled her into a hug.

"Hush, little baby..." he lowly sang tears starting to gather in his eyes, "don't say a word."

He swallowed thickly as she continued to cry—less than before.

"Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird." He sang with a slight crack in his voice.

He had started to remember things he'd rather keep pushed down but it seemed that wasn't going to happen.

"And if that mockingbird don't sing, papa's gonna buy you a wedding ring." He was starting to choke up now. Memories of coming home to a quiet house and checking on his daughter only to see his wife sat next to her—asleep, —the book of lullabies laid haphazardly on the bedside table.

Now was not the time to reminisce, he had a panicked daughter to calm down.

"And if that diamond ring turns brass," his voice was turning wobbly, but he ignored it in favor of his daughter, "Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass."

He choked on his breath thousands of years of tears now pouring out of his eyes.

He glanced down at his daughter, sure that if both were crying, the situation would worsen.

He was pleasantly surprised to see that she had fallen asleep on his chest—though a few tears were still leaking out of her eyes.

He sighed as he cradled her body in his arms with an exasperated expression on his face.

It was now obvious that he could not leave her alone while she slept, especially if there was a chance of this happening again.

He stood and walked to his bed—even if he never used it, it was still extremely useful—and laid her on top.