you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody
Flora pauses mid-step on the descent into the Undercroft, turning to fix Niki with an incredulous stare; it isn't the first time she's unsure if the necromancer is being serious or not, and gods but she loves that about him. "Is that so? Well. Next time I make you lunch because you've passed out, you’re braiding my hair as payment."
With a dramatic shake of her curls, Flora continues downward, the warm glow of lanterns and will-o'-wisps casting shifting light across the stone walls. The deeper they go, the more the air settles into something quiet, heavy with the scent of old books and ink, the distant drip of water echoing softly from the lower, submerged levels. She finds them a tucked-away alcove and settles onto one of the benches, drawing her shawl closer around herself as she exhales slowly.
"You know, I really thought I was going to hate her," Flora admits suddenly, almost as if saying it aloud surprises her. She frowns slightly, fingers tracing idly over the rim of her mug. "Seren, I mean. I expected her to be perfect. Like, exactly what I’d always thought Ronin wanted in a daughter. But she wasn’t—she was just... normal." Which somehow made it worse.
She laughs softly, shaking her head. "And, of course, just as I start realizing that, she—" Flora cuts herself off, lips pressing together before she can finish the sentence. "Anyway, maybe you’re right. At least we got that one walk. At least I know now that she wasn’t what I made her out to be in my head." Her voice is quieter now, more thoughtful, the bravado stripped away in the quiet of the Undercroft.
With a dramatic shake of her curls, Flora continues downward, the warm glow of lanterns and will-o'-wisps casting shifting light across the stone walls. The deeper they go, the more the air settles into something quiet, heavy with the scent of old books and ink, the distant drip of water echoing softly from the lower, submerged levels. She finds them a tucked-away alcove and settles onto one of the benches, drawing her shawl closer around herself as she exhales slowly.
"You know, I really thought I was going to hate her," Flora admits suddenly, almost as if saying it aloud surprises her. She frowns slightly, fingers tracing idly over the rim of her mug. "Seren, I mean. I expected her to be perfect. Like, exactly what I’d always thought Ronin wanted in a daughter. But she wasn’t—she was just... normal." Which somehow made it worse.
She laughs softly, shaking her head. "And, of course, just as I start realizing that, she—" Flora cuts herself off, lips pressing together before she can finish the sentence. "Anyway, maybe you’re right. At least we got that one walk. At least I know now that she wasn’t what I made her out to be in my head." Her voice is quieter now, more thoughtful, the bravado stripped away in the quiet of the Undercroft.
