Amalia
the shield of safrin
What token, indeed?
She turns her hands to Deimos first, leaving Amalia to wait and watch and wonder as cosmos are laid out between perfect fingers, waiting to be plucked. What can she offer him of herself that could possibly encompass her adoration, way she feels when he is near? A million ideas flash through her head, none of them enough. A kiss; a touch; a comb; a pearl. Nothing is bright enough, nothing is beautiful enough, nothing compares to him.
And then he makes his offering, and Amalia's mind stops. Because the bottle that appears in Safrin's hand is more precious than anything the Shield has seen, and the sound that comes from it a better balm for her fluttering anxiety than anything else. Warm and encompassing, deep and full, rich and perfect - it surrounds her, soothes her, warms her heart. It brings a smile to her face and bright tears to her eyes. Her own laughter hiccups from her throat, sheer joy and wonder a wellspring brought forth. I love it. I love you.
And when the time comes for her to choose, she knows what she will find.
Reaching into Safrin's hands, Amalia emerges with her totem. It is small and delicate between her fingers, glowing softly as a star. A sprig of lavender, aromatic and sweet, as perfect as the ones he planted around her bakery on a warm spring day when he barely knew her and owed her nothing, the gesture capturing her heart.
The thing he manages to spark within her, no matter how dark the world seems.
Her hope.
She turns her hands to Deimos first, leaving Amalia to wait and watch and wonder as cosmos are laid out between perfect fingers, waiting to be plucked. What can she offer him of herself that could possibly encompass her adoration, way she feels when he is near? A million ideas flash through her head, none of them enough. A kiss; a touch; a comb; a pearl. Nothing is bright enough, nothing is beautiful enough, nothing compares to him.
And then he makes his offering, and Amalia's mind stops. Because the bottle that appears in Safrin's hand is more precious than anything the Shield has seen, and the sound that comes from it a better balm for her fluttering anxiety than anything else. Warm and encompassing, deep and full, rich and perfect - it surrounds her, soothes her, warms her heart. It brings a smile to her face and bright tears to her eyes. Her own laughter hiccups from her throat, sheer joy and wonder a wellspring brought forth. I love it. I love you.
And when the time comes for her to choose, she knows what she will find.
Reaching into Safrin's hands, Amalia emerges with her totem. It is small and delicate between her fingers, glowing softly as a star. A sprig of lavender, aromatic and sweet, as perfect as the ones he planted around her bakery on a warm spring day when he barely knew her and owed her nothing, the gesture capturing her heart.
The thing he manages to spark within her, no matter how dark the world seems.
Her hope.
i belong to you
the way the stars belong to the moon
the way the stars belong to the moon
