Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
The skyship took forever to dock. First there was a holdup at the port, then the crew was going through the passenger list and hauled a stowaway out of the cargo hold, and then they had to wait for the port master to arrive and all the while she felt as if one more delay was all it would take before she exploded. It terrified her. Kept her glued to the railing like she'd been bound hand and foot, made her wait until the gangway was nice and laid out before she exited the ship. On foot. There would be no flying for her from now on; no shifting, no magic, nothing but ordinary, unproblematic walking. Down the winding stairs, past the Observatory, out on the winding bridges that would lead her towards the small cottage where her partner hopefully waited. Passing her own house entirely, she gave herself no grace to rest, or change clothes. If he wasn't home... then she'd check the training ground, and the Bodega, and any of their usual haunts until she found him. Getting tired of my own words
She missed him. The longing was a dull ache that dragged on her limbs, an iron band around the chest that kept her from breathing and erased all color from the day. Vaguely aware of a sun shining and of vibrant leaves clinging on in the last warm days before Deepfrost, it had little to do with her. Not until she found her way around a familiar grove of red maples, past a bramble of blackberries winding up a crooked rowan tree and finally spotted the roof of the house.
The sun shone differently on that piece of land. Brighter, warmer, more real than anything she'd seen in days and weeks. Brilliant rays angled down through balding trees and dyed Liam's hair with gold, turned the axe head into some legendary metal brighter than silver, and she froze on the path, suddenly terrified. It was too lovely a scene. Too bright, too vivid; what if it wasn't real after all? She had concluded already that she couldn't be in her right mind, and wasn't it common for insane people to see things that weren't real? She wanted it to be, though. Wanted to believe that the sound of splitting wood that echoed back from the woodland beyond wasn't just in her head, more than another delusion she'd been telling herself.
It didn't even matter if he was mad at her for being away for so long. He should be - she was mad at herself for far more - and given that she was about to break a deal they'd made she couldn't see this being a nice kind of reunion... But it was fine. At least she'd know it was all real.
Clutching at the wooden box she kept tucked in her pocket, Maea braved a step forward, then another. Travel worn and dusty, the shoulder of her dress - the same she'd worn to the masquerade - was torn and hastily mended, the long hair hanging limp around a face too pale even for her; she looked a mess, and he would be forgiven in thinking even for a second that she'd returned as a ghost to haunt him.
She shuddered at the thought of how close that came to the truth.
"Liam?"
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
