Amalia
the shield of safrin
she does not know what it's like
not to have deep emotions
not to have deep emotions
He's soothing for all the rough and annoying edges, and there's something in the straightforward way he answers that makes Amalia both comforted and uneasy. Perhaps it is the lack of any adult male figure in her youth that makes her feel so helplessly lost when dealing with the Priest; perhaps it is the way he treats her like something more than human, a fact Amalia has yet to properly embrace herself.
Whatever the reason, it keeps her standing tense and silent until he makes the suggestion she help. Conversation and interaction are difficult for the Shield, but work? Work is familiar. Work is easy. She likes to work, and so she nods gratefully, moving to grab a candelabra of her own and mirror Gideon's placement of the thing.
It's light (for her) and she scarcely has to strain to lift the large wrought-iron thing. As she works she finds her tongue loosening, questions rising once again to echo through the hall. "What sort of consultations?" the Shield wonders, double checking her placement against the Priest's. "Do you hear all of them? Everyone who wants to speak to you? What sort of things do people ask?"
Whatever the reason, it keeps her standing tense and silent until he makes the suggestion she help. Conversation and interaction are difficult for the Shield, but work? Work is familiar. Work is easy. She likes to work, and so she nods gratefully, moving to grab a candelabra of her own and mirror Gideon's placement of the thing.
It's light (for her) and she scarcely has to strain to lift the large wrought-iron thing. As she works she finds her tongue loosening, questions rising once again to echo through the hall. "What sort of consultations?" the Shield wonders, double checking her placement against the Priest's. "Do you hear all of them? Everyone who wants to speak to you? What sort of things do people ask?"
even when she feels nothing
she feels it completely
she feels it completely
