There you go again with that 'moon maiden' stuff. Did you know that's one of the names for Our Lady of Silver?
[Maybe that was intentional. She'd not forgotten their little talk about faith, after all, something she still didn't hold against him.
When he invited her in, she took just a moment to assess the inside. It was... somewhat rare for her to visit anyone else's tent. Halsin was something of a special instance and that had only happened recently and only because the Shadow-Curse kept them from going anywhere else. Otherwise, most conversation took place right out in the open. Familiarising herself with Astarion's person space, she thought...
Well. She couldn't really glean anything about him out of it. Comfort, perhaps, and that was important, honestly. She would have wanted all of them to have such things. Very careful not to accidentally step on anything she shouldn't have or to touch anything that wasn't hers, she waited until he provided her a place to sit before she made herself comfortable.
Looking a touch interested when he continued, she imagined at first that it might have had something to do with his scars, which was a very keen curiosity point for her. Instead, he offered over the journal and with furrowed brow, she pulled it into her lap, carefully leafing through it with a remarkable amount of care.
'As long as I have breath in my body and faith in my heart, I will get back up and try again and keep trying until my last moment.'
'I miss you so much. This yearning for your presence is so intense. It's a feeling I did not know existed.'
It could have seemed like any other odd and end journal and there was no shortage of them so far in their journey. A great many people had, after all, fallen victim to the Shadow-Curse, but it was a page in particular, or perhaps the idea that her gaze fell upon her name in particular that made her pause.
With a claw, she followed the line from one side to the other and onto the next.
'I fear forgetting a single thing about Nepione. I know there are details that must be slipping away as we move forward. The futility of intentional overload and keeping busy to ease the pain of her absence.
I miss her more than before. It does not lessen. It grows and expands as her life should have grown and expanded. Only fools, the fortunate naive, say time lessens missing and the ache of one's heart. How wonderful for them that they don't understand.'
For several moments, she said nothing, simply left her touch on the page she'd turned to, and went so painfully still that anyone could have been forgiven for thinking she was still reading it. In truth, she was conflicted. Deeply conflicted. The kind of conflict where it felt like her heart threatened to lodge its way into her throat. Of everything she'd expected in the Shadow-Curse, she had not expected anything like that, or that it would somehow find way into her hands.
To keep the plethora of questions from spilling out of her mouth, answers she knew Astarion wouldn't have, she finally shut the journal and looked over to him.]
Where did you find this? How long have you had it?
[Because she hated the idea that it was possible he could have held onto it for some time and meant to use it as a means of holding something over her.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-12-15 05:24 pm (UTC)[Maybe that was intentional. She'd not forgotten their little talk about faith, after all, something she still didn't hold against him.
When he invited her in, she took just a moment to assess the inside. It was... somewhat rare for her to visit anyone else's tent. Halsin was something of a special instance and that had only happened recently and only because the Shadow-Curse kept them from going anywhere else. Otherwise, most conversation took place right out in the open. Familiarising herself with Astarion's person space, she thought...
Well. She couldn't really glean anything about him out of it. Comfort, perhaps, and that was important, honestly. She would have wanted all of them to have such things. Very careful not to accidentally step on anything she shouldn't have or to touch anything that wasn't hers, she waited until he provided her a place to sit before she made herself comfortable.
Looking a touch interested when he continued, she imagined at first that it might have had something to do with his scars, which was a very keen curiosity point for her. Instead, he offered over the journal and with furrowed brow, she pulled it into her lap, carefully leafing through it with a remarkable amount of care.
'As long as I have breath in my body and faith in my heart, I will get back up and try again and keep trying until my last moment.'
'I miss you so much. This yearning for your presence is so intense. It's a feeling I did not know existed.'
It could have seemed like any other odd and end journal and there was no shortage of them so far in their journey. A great many people had, after all, fallen victim to the Shadow-Curse, but it was a page in particular, or perhaps the idea that her gaze fell upon her name in particular that made her pause.
With a claw, she followed the line from one side to the other and onto the next.
'I fear forgetting a single thing about Nepione. I know there are details that must be slipping away as we move forward. The futility of intentional overload and keeping busy to ease the pain of her absence.
I miss her more than before. It does not lessen. It grows and expands as her life should have grown and expanded. Only fools, the fortunate naive, say time lessens missing and the ache of one's heart. How wonderful for them that they don't understand.'
For several moments, she said nothing, simply left her touch on the page she'd turned to, and went so painfully still that anyone could have been forgiven for thinking she was still reading it. In truth, she was conflicted. Deeply conflicted. The kind of conflict where it felt like her heart threatened to lodge its way into her throat. Of everything she'd expected in the Shadow-Curse, she had not expected anything like that, or that it would somehow find way into her hands.
To keep the plethora of questions from spilling out of her mouth, answers she knew Astarion wouldn't have, she finally shut the journal and looked over to him.]
Where did you find this? How long have you had it?
[Because she hated the idea that it was possible he could have held onto it for some time and meant to use it as a means of holding something over her.]