Amalia
the shield of safrin
Amalia has never been to the wedding of an Ascended before.She feels out of place here, uneasy: she does not belong. Rexanna has always been kind to her, but she would hesitate to call the other woman friend; Bastien, similarly, is an unknown figure, though the tales of his insults to Safrin have done nothing to endears him to the girl.
No, she is here for her found family, for Deimos and Kiada and the others she loves. Lingering on the outskirts of the assembled crowd, the Shield scans with sharp eyes and a open bond for any sign of problems. Immediately she can sense Kiada, corrupt though the harpy might be, lingering and watching from the boughs above. She does not press the girl but follows her senses, stopping to stand beside where Remi and Ianto sit, her attention still on the harpy.
She is so focused that she almost does not notice the arrival of the Voice. Bristling and tightening, Amalia barely holds back a silent snarl, enraged that the goddess would show her face around those she has wounded so greviously. She glances at Remi and Ianto, biting her lip and shaking her head. I don't know.
The bride is resplendent, the groom radiant, and Deimos outrageously handsome among them, but Amalia scarcely registers these things. She is too busy worrying, her gift to the couple today: worrying about Kiada, worrying about Roana, ready to step in against any threat.
someday we'll find what we're looking for
or maybe not
maybe we'll find something much greater
