*stops breathing for what seems an eternity, unable to move, unable to do anything but tremble under the weight of the memories that flood in afresh, despite the fact that he himself was a corpse before he could see any blood on his brothers' swords*
*finally snaps out of his daze, stepping toward Lily, meaning to...what? hold her, or shake her, perhaps; tell her she's got it wrong (it must be a nightmare/it's all wrong)* *echoing you faintly, terror rendering him a mockery of anything strong or blustery or swaggering* Daughter. Please.