Her eyes flutter as Frey's hands comb through her hair, resisting the urge even as it spills over her so she might keep her gaze upon her herald. Frey's touch is a balm that soothes burns that run wider and deeper than Hotaru had thought them to, leeching the pain like aloe on sun-scorched skin. With that relief comes the curve of her body toward the herald, a flower to the sun.
Frey's voice is an ambiguous croon that floats each word like dandelion fluff against her skin, the weight of their answers - and all the emotions they inspire - gentler than spiders silk. How can she possibly doubt when faced with this soft wisdom? How could her loyalty ever waver, even when denied her greatest, aching desires?
(Somewhere in the past, a younger version of her paints her hands with her parents' blood to conceal their killer, choking on tears even as her loyalty - her trust in her goddess who bid her to do so - holds firm.
Some things never change.)
As Frey's hand cups her cheek - fingers soft now, when before Ru had sworn she felt callouses - the woman's eyes close and she tilts her face into Frey's palm. Her breath trembles out of her in the first outward sign of her inner turmoil; Frey is privy to it from the start, the Valkyrie's mind, body, and heart as clear as glass to them. A subtle furrow forms between blonde brows as she valiantly tries to sow the truth of it all into the ruined landscape of her heart.
"I want him to grow," she murmurs, lips brushing against Frey's palm with each syllable. Idly, she wonders if Frey's summoned form is as perfectly detailed as to have lifelines. If she tried to read them, what would they say? "More than anything. I love him - I want him to be..." happy? whole? healed? "...everything he can." Her eyes open, heterochromatic irises oddly saturated as the hues of the Rainbow Road dance upon them. "It hurts...to want that more than wanting him." A cruelly rare affliction of selflessness.
Her hand traces idle patterns on Frey's bare thigh as her eyes fall away under the cresting wave of shame. Scared to admit such weakness, afraid it conflicts with the values Frey cherished and had shared with her. Sighing, she lifts her eyes back to Frey's unfamiliar face, always brave enough to face her mistakes even when she believes she won't be able to bear it.
"And me? Am I meant to grow too? Because I'm trying...I really am." Even if it feels like she's just clinging to stability, keeping herself afloat and nothing more. "I thought maybe I could make a haven in Hak Etme. Find new ways to bring people pleasure and escape, try to find it myself in the process. But...well, it's all gone a bit sideways as far as I'm aware." Something she'll have to ask Flora about in the coming days, if the storm has spat out any definitive news. "You made me this for a reason. It took a backseat to my heart - and I'm so sorry, Frey." It's easier to regret the depths of her love for Sunjata when her heart is as weathered and broken as it is now, cradled in Frey's hands. "So I haven't known what else to do but try to focus on what you might want." It guides her sparse decisions as she tries to find her way, aimless and uninvested in the outcomes. Ru's own desires are impossible to actualize - Frey's have taken their place to fill the gap so it won't swallow her whole. Only now Hak Etme and its vague future feel so far away. Instead of trying to figure it out anew, she has turned to Frey, broken and biddable.
Frey's voice is an ambiguous croon that floats each word like dandelion fluff against her skin, the weight of their answers - and all the emotions they inspire - gentler than spiders silk. How can she possibly doubt when faced with this soft wisdom? How could her loyalty ever waver, even when denied her greatest, aching desires?
(Somewhere in the past, a younger version of her paints her hands with her parents' blood to conceal their killer, choking on tears even as her loyalty - her trust in her goddess who bid her to do so - holds firm.
Some things never change.)
As Frey's hand cups her cheek - fingers soft now, when before Ru had sworn she felt callouses - the woman's eyes close and she tilts her face into Frey's palm. Her breath trembles out of her in the first outward sign of her inner turmoil; Frey is privy to it from the start, the Valkyrie's mind, body, and heart as clear as glass to them. A subtle furrow forms between blonde brows as she valiantly tries to sow the truth of it all into the ruined landscape of her heart.
"I want him to grow," she murmurs, lips brushing against Frey's palm with each syllable. Idly, she wonders if Frey's summoned form is as perfectly detailed as to have lifelines. If she tried to read them, what would they say? "More than anything. I love him - I want him to be..." happy? whole? healed? "...everything he can." Her eyes open, heterochromatic irises oddly saturated as the hues of the Rainbow Road dance upon them. "It hurts...to want that more than wanting him." A cruelly rare affliction of selflessness.
Her hand traces idle patterns on Frey's bare thigh as her eyes fall away under the cresting wave of shame. Scared to admit such weakness, afraid it conflicts with the values Frey cherished and had shared with her. Sighing, she lifts her eyes back to Frey's unfamiliar face, always brave enough to face her mistakes even when she believes she won't be able to bear it.
"And me? Am I meant to grow too? Because I'm trying...I really am." Even if it feels like she's just clinging to stability, keeping herself afloat and nothing more. "I thought maybe I could make a haven in Hak Etme. Find new ways to bring people pleasure and escape, try to find it myself in the process. But...well, it's all gone a bit sideways as far as I'm aware." Something she'll have to ask Flora about in the coming days, if the storm has spat out any definitive news. "You made me this for a reason. It took a backseat to my heart - and I'm so sorry, Frey." It's easier to regret the depths of her love for Sunjata when her heart is as weathered and broken as it is now, cradled in Frey's hands. "So I haven't known what else to do but try to focus on what you might want." It guides her sparse decisions as she tries to find her way, aimless and uninvested in the outcomes. Ru's own desires are impossible to actualize - Frey's have taken their place to fill the gap so it won't swallow her whole. Only now Hak Etme and its vague future feel so far away. Instead of trying to figure it out anew, she has turned to Frey, broken and biddable.
The Valkyrie
think I'm addicted to a certain kind of misery
