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[Arahim]

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Christopher curled a tight, little hand around Merrique's fingers and shook with as true a sense of urgency as he could possibly muster. His clear green eyes cutting through the small space between them with an uncanny intensity that completely belied his age and reasoning.

When she was around him, everything was of the most pressing, doting importance.

Still holding her hand, he lead her along five scant steps, pointing the whole vast distance to an orderly set up of brightly colored, and mismatched wooden blocks. A tin soldier stood impressively before it.

"See? He lives there Aunt Mary."

Watching his aunt and son so involved in their transient corner of the world, so far removed from it's travails and tragedies, Arahim wondered if Merrique had ever truly had the chance to watch her own sons, both now lost to her, just be three year olds.

Sadly, he doubted it.

He laughed to himself as Merrique carefully arranged herself on the floor, tightly crossing her legs and smoothing her skirt, to get a better look at this imposing soldier and the castle he lived in.

Looking up at his sudden burst of amusement, she gave Arahim the oddest look, and mouthed the words,

"Quiet you."

Christopher picked through the detritus of toys and baubles that dotted their corner of the room. Each one had a story, or prompted some seemingly unrelated memory that he was only too happy to relate to his 'Aunt Mary.' Handing off each item to her to punctuate it's meaning, or simply for her approval.

A smile, a laugh, or a simple, "Ooooh," was all Christopher needed, and he returned the feeling with interest, finally deciding on a large picture book and Merri's lap for his seat.

Quietly excusing himself, Arahim decided he didn't have the heart to gather up his son for bedtime.