I run to the river and dive straight in
I pray that the water will drown out the din
It stands to reason he would take this latest burden, would insist on bearing the cross that comes with telling the Harpy of her mother's death. Out of a place of pain, a misplaced sense of responsibility and guilt, a need to make some false wrong right. "It isn't your fault," she repeats yet again, a hymn she will throw against the bulwark of his soul until finally it makes it through. The monsters, the deaths, the years of darkness and mistakes: they stretch back further than the Sword could possibly reach, further than the Shield.
Back to one point and one alone. None of this would have happened, had it not been for the Voice.
For now, though, she will settle in with him, acting as the shield to his flood of pain. Fingers entwine in his again; she runs her hand down the small of his back, a comforting action taught by wiser woman to a young, mournful girl. "I'm right here," the waif reavows, promises against the curve of his neck. "I'm here for you. Always."
And though time may make a liar of her, siren songs and threats of horror coaxing her back out .. for now the promise is a true one. She is here with him, for him, as his, throughout this longest dark.
Back to one point and one alone. None of this would have happened, had it not been for the Voice.
For now, though, she will settle in with him, acting as the shield to his flood of pain. Fingers entwine in his again; she runs her hand down the small of his back, a comforting action taught by wiser woman to a young, mournful girl. "I'm right here," the waif reavows, promises against the curve of his neck. "I'm here for you. Always."
And though time may make a liar of her, siren songs and threats of horror coaxing her back out .. for now the promise is a true one. She is here with him, for him, as his, throughout this longest dark.
i swallow the sound and it swallows me whole
'Til there's nothing left inside my soul
Amalia
