The air around her hung heavy, like an ancient song that lingered just at the tip of the tongue. She was a melody that he hummed, but he could never remember the words that matched the cadence which danced around in his head. He was sure that he would recall the words if he remained in her presence, for something about her stirred something deep within him, something that he tried to grasp but could never catch. So, he remained two strides behind her throughout their adventures, never saying much, but always humming the tune that plucked at some part of his past. He made sure to keep his distance, that is, until this night.
The court buzzed with activity despite the dimming candle light, although the events of the night were enough for the attendees to devour for weeks. The Inquisitor fought to keep Celene on the throne, and the peace, however short lived it would be, was cause enough for celebration. Although courtly happenings were nothing new to him, his stomach still tied itself up seeing groups of finely dressed humans mere inches from puddles of blood being soaked up by the servants. Surely he hadnât been as cruel as humans are, in that past life that was buried deep within. He pressed the rim of his glass to his lips, numbing the memories with warm wine.
The candlelight danced off her pale hair as she snuck between the curtains that concealed a balcony. His eyes fell to the cup in his hand, he swirled the liquids thoughtfully as that song reverberated somewhere deep in his brain, an invisible line that was pulled taunt between the pair. He threw the rest of the drink back, set the cup on a busserâs tray, and shuffled between the crowd. He passed through the velvet curtains and stepped onto the moon soaked balcony and was immediately wrapped in a blanket of stars. The chilled air bit at the tips of his ears, signaling the beginning of one season melting into another. Her hands clenched the railing, head sunk low, being swallowed by the full moon that seemed just a breath away. How beautiful she looked, in her loose fitting gown made of silver silk, dripping in embroidered crystals. Her long locks danced around her shoulders, wild and yielding to the chilled breath of the wind. She looked as if she could melt into the moon, and there was no doubt in his mind that she belonged among the ancients that ruled the sky. Surely her journey would end with her dancing among the burning orbs, coaxing them into beautiful patterns across the velvet night.
Her pale eyes were on him. Shit. How long had he been lost in his thoughts? He held her gaze for a moment before searching the sky for the words that had dissolved on his tongue. No words that he foolishly strung together sounded appropriate, for she deserved ballads written just for her. Heat creeped to his cheeks, and he felt his body retreat back against the curtains. Some faraway violin picked up a tune, and the rest of the band joined the melody. That song that had buried itself deep in a past that he would rather soon forget began to bloom at the base of his brain, exploding throughout his veins.
This, she deserved this. All of the words that he was unable to say, the wavering brushing of fingertips, the lingering gazes. The song strung together the explanations in ways that his ramblings could not. The bardâs voice rose over the melody, softly at first, until the words shattered against his heart. She would never know how this song had carried him through a life he once lived. Now was his chance to sow a new meaning, a new feeling, into a song that carried so much of his grief. She was his chance at a new beginning, and for once in his life, he let go of the past him, the being that he had aligned himself with for so long.
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