Of Etheria has reached 75 subscribers! And that means this foolish writer is going to post a short story tomorrow to commemorate!
(This foolish writer has a problem with longer commemorative stories and is shooting herself in the foot)
Thank you all so very much, and I am so excited to post actual fluff tomorrow! We still have some time before we get to it in of Etheria, so we should all get as much pure happiness where we can.
And now, a quick preview!
Hordak was thankful that the halls of Salineas had so many nooks and crannies to slip into. With how the people of the kingdom looked at him, it was better to remain unnoticed.
And so he tapped away at his data pad, slipping from corner to corner as he studied the layout of the palace, the basic architecture. If he was to rebuild, it was better to start with a solid theoretical understanding of the city.
He walked into an occupied room, noting how a trickling waterfall helped dampen the sounds of various conversation. He made a quick private note, pleased with the audio buffer. Entrapta might even appreciate something similar in their workspace. His pause to make note drew attention, and heads turned his way. As was custom whenever he was spotted, a quick heated discourse rippled through the crowd, most folk shifting farther away as they watched him with open hostility. But they stayed in the room, an unusual thing. Usually they would rather flee than tolerate his presence.
And then he noted the stocky princess of Dryl, being drawn this way and that in the heart of the crowd as the people of Salineas demanded answers to their questions.
Entrapta hated to be crowded.
He was already halfway across the room, strides long and expression thunderous, when she looked over and caught his eye. She was stressed, he could see that plain as day, but she made a little hand motion, a clear thumbs up. He slid to a stop, eyes narrowed in concern as she was distracted by yet another voice. He knew her, perhaps better than he knew himself some days, and that signal had clearly meant that she was perfectly fine, that she was declining his assistance.
Every muscle screamed at him to storm over there, her reassurance be damned, and break up the crowd, rescue her from her discomfort. But-
She rose slightly higher, head now above the crowd. He noted the way that only her hair was in any type of contact with them. Her hands gesticulated wildly, excitedly (she was waxing poetic about the First Ones technology required to fix the Gate), and very carefully out of reach of any wayward grabby citizens. She knew what she was doing. No matter his feelings, she did not need him to rescue her. She was in perfect control.
She looked back over to him, fully making eye contact this time, and suddenly just beamed.
Her words halted long enough for the folk to follow her gaze, but he couldn't be bothered by their stares this time. Because Entrapta was looking at him, pausing her excited technological explanations just to smile in his direction. She loved talking about First Ones technology, and she had a crowd actually listening.
She was putting it on hold just to smile. At him.
His heart hammered, an unusual response, but he felt the beginnings of a smile as he easily stepped back. She mouthed words at him, her eyes shining with gratitude. A moment later her smile turned to a grin as she remembered her former tangent, and just like that the moment passed. But his mind replayed her smile, her silent message.
Thank you for trusting me
