A/N: I don’t think this was quite what you had in mind, but…
Mostly it’s just the two of you, walking, walking.
That is your first memory: her hand over yours, huge, and the flash of her armor in the sunlight, bronze like fish scales or sullen brown in shadow, the road and its fractures sweeping away from you both in a web too wide for you to know all of it. Her strides are long and they tnk, tnk-tnk with her every step, but she doesn’t pull you. She doesn’t have to. Your little feet can’t keep up with her big ones alone so you tell the earth hello, carry me with Mama please and it likes you and it listens. It sweeps you alongside her, pace for pace, dark baked pavement frothing up under you and you laugh, laugh and your shoulder brushes hers once in a while. You look sideways then and catch her smiling, and her thumb digs a ditch of rough warmth in the seam of your knuckles.