Evie
The chill of the water, what she can still feel of course, has nothing on the warmth of her spirit and Hadama’s firm but gentle grip. Laughing brightly as the news hits and he swims forth to embrace her of his own accord this time, she throws her arms back around him gleefully, ecstatic to share in this bright and shining moment. “Thank you,” she manages to squeeze out past the joy in her chest.
Looking into his eyes as he takes her hands, she tempers the flash of perceived rejection with understanding, even as something sorrowful encroaches around it. “There is still so much we don’t know about you and your people,” she mourns, wishing she’d thought to ask this sooner. Given the ease he’d visited Halo for the Academy, she’d simply never thought about it, which feels unfair and inaccessible to her.
“Mid-season, on the solstice.” When the day would be longest, and promising of a bountiful spring - a bountiful future. Squeezing his hands, she rubs her thumbs over the backs of them, trying to project reassurance. “Even if you cannot come, I wanted you to know. And to see you that morning at the beach, or perhaps after my honeymoon.” As an Abandoned, the notion of questing for a boon seems monumental and certainly something she cannot ask him to do. While the reception would have to be held in the Citadel for the visitors who could not handle the cold beyond the gates, it would keep her friend from her side, and it breaks her heart - but she won’t let it show. “Or - if you had something I could hold onto, so I might feel you’re there all the same?” Her friendship and love have never been beholden to physical presence, and she won’t have that changing today.
Looking into his eyes as he takes her hands, she tempers the flash of perceived rejection with understanding, even as something sorrowful encroaches around it. “There is still so much we don’t know about you and your people,” she mourns, wishing she’d thought to ask this sooner. Given the ease he’d visited Halo for the Academy, she’d simply never thought about it, which feels unfair and inaccessible to her.
“Mid-season, on the solstice.” When the day would be longest, and promising of a bountiful spring - a bountiful future. Squeezing his hands, she rubs her thumbs over the backs of them, trying to project reassurance. “Even if you cannot come, I wanted you to know. And to see you that morning at the beach, or perhaps after my honeymoon.” As an Abandoned, the notion of questing for a boon seems monumental and certainly something she cannot ask him to do. While the reception would have to be held in the Citadel for the visitors who could not handle the cold beyond the gates, it would keep her friend from her side, and it breaks her heart - but she won’t let it show. “Or - if you had something I could hold onto, so I might feel you’re there all the same?” Her friendship and love have never been beholden to physical presence, and she won’t have that changing today.
a golden cage, for all its worth and beauty
is still just a cage
is still just a cage
