Ru’s bare shoulders relax backward, head drawn subconsciously with the same line of motion as her eyelids flutter and the tension under her skin finally gives way. When Frey appears, Sunjata’s face is perfectly recreated - and then distorts immediately. It makes Ru’s entire body freeze up, startled for a moment. As Frey reaches to Andraste and is met with identical relaxation of coiled muscle as her bonded, Ru tries to make heads and tails of it.
What she desires most is not concrete, not static. Her heart’s desire is Sunjata, but in this moment she wants to be spared the image of him more than she wants to see him. And Frey’s form will always reflect someone’s greatest desire. Hotaru is so taken aback by the simplicity of it all that she can’t help a hoarse laugh. She doesn’t so much as dare to blink, enchanted by the way Frey’s features shift subtly, like the glitter of sunlight on water or the haze of heat that turns deserts into oasis pools. None of the faces or features familiar. It is blessed freedom, indulgence of her greatest desire regardless of the rightness or propriety. A defining tenet of Frey’s theology that Ru has always resonated with.
Like a cornered dog who has finally caught the scent of their owner and relaxed their hackles, Hotaru leans into the metaphysical touch that curls under her chin in precisely the same tame, fawning manner. Her hands blindly reach to find Frey’s naked thighs to brace upon.
“Mm. I suppose I should rephrase - I don’t think I broke it, or at least don’t know how I could have - but it was in my possession when it did.” Hotaru would not care to fix something even if she directly broke it between her palms were it not one of the few people she loved on this earth. “Sunjata’s heart - can I repair it for him?” No matter what he chooses to do with it thereafter.
What she desires most is not concrete, not static. Her heart’s desire is Sunjata, but in this moment she wants to be spared the image of him more than she wants to see him. And Frey’s form will always reflect someone’s greatest desire. Hotaru is so taken aback by the simplicity of it all that she can’t help a hoarse laugh. She doesn’t so much as dare to blink, enchanted by the way Frey’s features shift subtly, like the glitter of sunlight on water or the haze of heat that turns deserts into oasis pools. None of the faces or features familiar. It is blessed freedom, indulgence of her greatest desire regardless of the rightness or propriety. A defining tenet of Frey’s theology that Ru has always resonated with.
Like a cornered dog who has finally caught the scent of their owner and relaxed their hackles, Hotaru leans into the metaphysical touch that curls under her chin in precisely the same tame, fawning manner. Her hands blindly reach to find Frey’s naked thighs to brace upon.
“Mm. I suppose I should rephrase - I don’t think I broke it, or at least don’t know how I could have - but it was in my possession when it did.” Hotaru would not care to fix something even if she directly broke it between her palms were it not one of the few people she loved on this earth. “Sunjata’s heart - can I repair it for him?” No matter what he chooses to do with it thereafter.
The Valkyrie
think I'm addicted to a certain kind of misery
