#zombie adar's POV is so... um... interesting???? and also very hard.

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

Weird request. I want a comfort fic snippet specifically about zombie Adar. Subtle and poignant is fine. If you have it in you on this darkest of days.

okay @whenimaunicorn ask and ye shall receive (and thank you for successfully getting me to concentrate on something artistic and distracting on this darkest of days.)

so you asked for "zombie adar comfort fic" so i'm giving you... a missing scene from "sister golden hair" from Zombie Adar's POV where he is kinda heart-eyes over Mirdania and her hair, and tries his best to comfort her.

He's not super great at it, though. On account of he is, in fact, a Zombie.

Gold. That is what he follows. Golden hair, like afternoon sun. Streaming out behind her, lifted by wind, the same wind that he feels, icy cold upon his face. It steadies his step, having something to follow. But she is fast. She evades. Among the trees, it had been easy. There had been one clear path, and she had taken it. But now there are too many. Streets that intersect and curve. Tall buildings that obscure the way ahead. Dead bodies to step over. He loses her. He stumbles. Unsteady. Yet still he walks. Lumbers. Searches. He sniffs for traces of her scent. Light and sweet, like a glade of flowers. He had memorized it in the forest, when she had rested against him. He had been content to lie there, like a stone fringed by fragrant columbines. The forest had been quiet. Peaceful. Nothing to do but watch the fluttering leaves and the shifting sun. He could have stayed. Something tells him he was meant to stay. But she had gone. And he had followed. … He finds her scent near an open courtyard and follows it into one of the buildings. There are stairs that wind and he struggles. Lifting legs. Climbing up. Then there is a scream. It fills him with cold. It steals his breath—like stepping outside to snow and ice. His limbs remember a cold like that. The sound changes. It shatters into a cry. Many pieces. Many tears. He thinks of wetness on his neck. Mournful noises. Little phantom hands that had clawed, noses that had nuzzled against his chest. He remembers holding. Young ones. Sometimes older ones, too. After battles. After births. Always too many tears. He reaches the top of the stairs. He sees golden hair waiting, and something inside him lifts... ...then it falls, as she lets out another sob. The sound is a snare. It pulls him toward her. A word comes to him as he draws near. A word that means falling tears and shaking shoulders and quivering lips. Sad. She is sad. She cries out again, and he can feel the place in his own chest where his own sobs are stored. But he cannot make the sound himself. Instead, he reaches for her. To comfort. To help. He catches a few strands of her hair. It feels soft beneath his fingers. She sways and falls and he is not fast enough to stop her. … The cause of her sorrow is a body, riddled with arrows, raised high on a pole and pinned against a column. In its face, there is suffering. Death’s ugly stain. The familiarity of it stirs something inside him. His hands know what to do. How to handle the body. How to prepare it for burning. Flames, into darkness. … She cries out in her sleep. It jerks him from the stupor that had settled over his limbs. Another sad cry. Another pain sprearing his chest. As he moves toward her, he hears her teeth chatter. The curse of cold. He knows it well. He had wandered long in a frozen wasteland. Many had followed him. Their sharp teeth had rattled through the long, moonless nights, and there had been little to cover them. He searches. He finds. A cloth—soft and thick and warm. Something to shield her from the sting of cold. In the center of the darkened room, he kneels and drapes the covering over her. Beneath the moonlight, her hair is a different color. Until the first light of dawn, he lingers by her side, under the spell of its silvery sheen.

ANYWAY, I HOPE IF YOU'RE SAD, ZOMBIE ADAR COMES TO YOU AND COVERS YOU GENTLY WITH A WARM BLANKET.

also, bonus track that's just too perfect for Them: