Every confession made, promise laid down at your bedside
Noah felt the stillness before the goddess stepped towards him. He felt the way the tundra seemed to pause its endless breathing, the quiet settling not of absence but of presence. The cold no longer pressed against his skin in the same way. It held, attentive, like the world itself had turned its gaze toward the shrine. He let out a breath, relief flooding up from his lungs and out his mouth.
He opened his eyes, and, for a moment, he did not move. The sight of her struck something deep and wordless in him. Awe was not unfamiliar to Noah, but this was gentler than battle-earned reverence. This was warmth laid carefully over hardship, reassurance without weakness. The undeniable pride and warmth of her smile warmed him like the spill of whiskey down his throat -- sharp, quick, then spreading until it overtook each limb.
Her praise landed heavier than he expected, and Noah bowed his head. It was not out of obligation, but because the emotion in his chest asked for somewhere to go and he couldn't move from her presence. Pride mixed with the relief of her arrival, and gratitude threaded through both. The hours, the strange heat, the labor shared with friends, all felt small compared to the confirmation that it had mattered. That it mattered to her. That he mattered, still.
"That means more than I can say." he answered, unsure of how the words would come out at first with the emotion he felt under her praise. But they were steady. His glacier gaze lifted, meeting hers without hesitation. He wanted to reach out and touch her, remembering the feel of her hands on his cheeks and the touch of her lips to his forehead from their last meeting. But he stayed still, looking to her with every earnest fiber within him. "If this place can remind even one traveler that they are not alone out here, then it was worth every step." It was what he and Cordelia wanted when they built the lodge, and now this shrine was an extenstion of that, though different in many ways. It was an extension of the fact that, though he had been Forsaken once, there was mercy. That out of all those that had left him alone, those that have died, those that have moved on from him, she never had.
He watched the water shimmer beneath her touch, the blossoms strengthening where they lay against the snow, how the sunlight beamed across the golden stone. The shrine and all of its parts was life refusing to diminish. The note of Vi’s approval settled into him like a steadying hand at his back. He exhaled slowly, a bit shaky with the raw truth of her statement.
"Thank you." Noah said at last, wholly sincere. "For seeing it. For answering." For seeing me. The last part, across the attuned bond.
He opened his eyes, and, for a moment, he did not move. The sight of her struck something deep and wordless in him. Awe was not unfamiliar to Noah, but this was gentler than battle-earned reverence. This was warmth laid carefully over hardship, reassurance without weakness. The undeniable pride and warmth of her smile warmed him like the spill of whiskey down his throat -- sharp, quick, then spreading until it overtook each limb.
Her praise landed heavier than he expected, and Noah bowed his head. It was not out of obligation, but because the emotion in his chest asked for somewhere to go and he couldn't move from her presence. Pride mixed with the relief of her arrival, and gratitude threaded through both. The hours, the strange heat, the labor shared with friends, all felt small compared to the confirmation that it had mattered. That it mattered to her. That he mattered, still.
"That means more than I can say." he answered, unsure of how the words would come out at first with the emotion he felt under her praise. But they were steady. His glacier gaze lifted, meeting hers without hesitation. He wanted to reach out and touch her, remembering the feel of her hands on his cheeks and the touch of her lips to his forehead from their last meeting. But he stayed still, looking to her with every earnest fiber within him. "If this place can remind even one traveler that they are not alone out here, then it was worth every step." It was what he and Cordelia wanted when they built the lodge, and now this shrine was an extenstion of that, though different in many ways. It was an extension of the fact that, though he had been Forsaken once, there was mercy. That out of all those that had left him alone, those that have died, those that have moved on from him, she never had.
He watched the water shimmer beneath her touch, the blossoms strengthening where they lay against the snow, how the sunlight beamed across the golden stone. The shrine and all of its parts was life refusing to diminish. The note of Vi’s approval settled into him like a steadying hand at his back. He exhaled slowly, a bit shaky with the raw truth of her statement.
"Thank you." Noah said at last, wholly sincere. "For seeing it. For answering." For seeing me. The last part, across the attuned bond.
Noah
Guiding a broken heart through the edge of dark
