This is based on Po/Katsa's argument in Bitterblue, when Katsa leaves to go the the mountains. Anything familiar (plot line, characters, etc.) is not mine.

She hated fighting with him. But she found it couldn't be helped, especially when he insisted on making her feel she'd been lied to. Lied to and cast aside like the unfeeling brute Randa had thought her to be. Perhaps that wasn't fair to him, but it was all she felt as she stumbled blindly through the night on her horse. Po would accuse me of breaking it she thought to herself. And perhaps she was, but she cast the thought of him aside as soon as it came and focused on the pounding of the hooves beneath her, the feeling of the horse's flank, heaving, against her feet. And she was calm.

She'd run from the room on impulse. She too needed time to think, to be alone. She hated feeling frightened and weak, hated knowing that this man, this beautiful silver-eyed, golden-eyed man, could snatch her happiness from her in the blink of an eye. She hated that it made her so afraid, his Grace, hated that it brought him so much pain, and feared how many people he wanted to tell. He knew as well as she how dangerous it was, knew how impulsive he could be with him emotions.

It was why Po had agreed to discuss it with Katsa first. She wouldn't give in unless she knew it was safe, unless she knew that Po would not get hurt, knew that they could trust whoever it was. And now he had ignored his promise, broken it, discarded it, cast it aside. As if it meant nothing, as if the danger he had put himself in did not affect her, as if his pain and hers were two separate entities and were not twisted together like the thin fibres of a sailor's rope.

And she would have stayed. To ground him, to bring him to his senses, to make him realise how careless he was being. She understood how broken he was the more he lied, he'd explained it to her, she held him when he'd cried, kissed him and comforted him and whispered his name.

She had dealt with her anger before, knew she could deal with a broken promise and a lie, but he had made her leave. He had wanted her to leave even though he had been the careless one, he had taken the first step to ruining his own life. He always said he expected her to leave, but he had never once forced her to.

And so she left. But it was not because he told her to. It was because she couldn't stand to be around him when he didn't want her there. And he didn't want her; he had convinced her as he had not done in the mountains when he had lost his sight. He had well and truly convinced her that she was unwanted. And then he'd called her love, reached for her, looked at her with his beautiful, broken eyes and she had snapped. He had to choose and so did she, he couldn't have her and not have her, and she couldn't be wanted and unwanted at the same time. He'd chosen not to have her and she was left with accepting that she was unwanted, and this was to her synonymous with running.

She'd run to the only place she could think she would not be asked any questions, chasing away all thoughts of Po; she'd run to Raffin who'd taken one look at her sheet and her wet cheeks and pulled her into a tight, warm hug, breathing into her hair. He smelt of sleep and comfort and home. He and Bann had tried their best to find her a shirt and trousers that didn't reach too far bast her knees and didn't drag along the floor, but she'd ended up rolling the legs and tucking the shirt underneath her belt. She hadn't wanted to leave him, she never did, but she did have a mission. And this time, she would embark on it alone, dependent once again upon herself...only herself.

She'd kissed Raffin who muttered to her to be careful and pressed a bag of coins into her palm. She'd grabbed a quiver, some arrows, a bow, a few knives, and a satchel from the armoury, and then flung herself over her horse's back, feet sloshing ridiculously in the enormous boots upon her feet, and left.