Where is the light?

🌷- Alone

🥀- Dying

🤕- Injured/sick

☠️- Dead

🐥- Alive

😈- Possessed

👻- As a ghost

😼- Transformed into an animal/monster

🦋- In a joyful mood

☔️- In a somber mood

☀️- Overheated

☃️- Shivering from the cold

💫- Dazed and dizzy

💦- Crying

🍇- Extremely hungry

🏇🏻- Being chased

🗜- Stuck in a trap

🔮- In a dream

🛌- Bedridden

📖- Reading/studying

🎍- Tending to a shrine/visiting a grave

🌼- Caring for some plants

⭐️- Stargazing

For all this time, she has made a pointed effort to not think too much about the goetic king or how deep her feelings for him actually run; simply because she has had more pressing matters to ruminate over. There is no animosity from her end, only weariness over the neverending push and pull of their arrangement and a desire to be rid of the accompanying emotional torsion.

"Oh."

Lyriel blinks a few times, allowing the information to properly register before she offers a slow, deliberate nod in response to his assessment.

"She almost died, you know. Her egg was all messed up, there, at the start. I always worried that she might...I dont know, get sick or something, because of that.

She's okay?"

Despite being his subordinate, he speaks of his Consul with a certain sort of casualness. They’ve known each other for a very long time. He gives another nod.

“She has some…health issues. Nothing to do with any injuries sustained prior to her hatching. More to do with her…dual natures. It’s being managed well. She’s okay. Happy, healthy. All the normal marks for a fledgling.”

"Yes, he did."

That she can recall with perfect clarity. Everything else surrounding that period of time is hazy at best. Interspersed with moments of discomfort, illness, pain, blood.

"I am glad that she is well...despite everything I always knew that she would be safe here...more than anywhere else."

Absently, a hand touches her belly where Merihem's egg had once sat. It has been a long time, but she still feels oddly hollow.

“She will be. I will see to that.”

He is not paying her lip service. It’s clear in his tone, his stance, the resoluteness of his gaze. This man who she does not know will kill and die for her daughter. His gaze falls to where she touches her stomach, and there is a glimmer of something, perhaps sadness, in the lavender sea.

“Since shortly after she hatched. Michael determined that I would be both an effective caretaker when the Judgements or your sisters are elsewhere, and an effective…deterrent. Given her father.”

She was never meant to be a mother. Didn't have it in her. That nurturing quality you need to bring something up healthy and strong. There was love there, though. Not in her actions, but in her heart, locked away tight behind bars of her own construction. It hurts to love something so much. Not half as much as it hurt to loose it, of course.

Her fingers curl into a loose fist above her abdomen, and she lowers it back down into her lap.

Compared to their other intimate activities, a tasteful painting seemed innocent. Of course, they were never far apart for very long, but the archangel still wanted to look upon his lover whenever he felt lonely.

"You say such pretty words~"

Skilled as he was with the brush, Heaven's herald was still a demanding perfectionist. Every curve, every shade of her skin and ray of light painted on the canvas had to be identical to the figure laying before him. The desire for precision made him cautious and slow. At this rate, it would take him an age just to get the base shape.

Because Gabriel was taking his time, Lyriel's patience had run-out. When he looked back up from his painstakingly slow progress, he saw her out of position---seemingly inviting him.

If he likes the sounds she makes, she is happy provide background noise while he works. A chirp here, a trill there, and a long, breathy sigh as she hoists her haunches in the air, where the overhead lights catch the iridescent feathers bolstering her supple cheeks, casting a pearly sheen on the porcelain expanse of her plumage.

"Heehee...I am only making sure you get my best angle...don't get distracted!"

I NEED A HERO, the bloodied knight returning to his lady.

"Oh."

Lyriel blinks a few times, allowing the information to properly register before she offers a slow, deliberate nod in response to his assessment.

"She almost died, you know. Her egg was all messed up, there, at the start. I always worried that she might...I dont know, get sick or something, because of that.

She's okay?"

Despite being his subordinate, he speaks of his Consul with a certain sort of casualness. They’ve known each other for a very long time. He gives another nod.

“She has some…health issues. Nothing to do with any injuries sustained prior to her hatching. More to do with her…dual natures. It’s being managed well. She’s okay. Happy, healthy. All the normal marks for a fledgling.”

"Yes, he did."

That she can recall with perfect clarity. Everything else surrounding that period of time is hazy at best. Interspersed with moments of discomfort, illness, pain, blood.

"I am glad that she is well...despite everything I always knew that she would be safe here...more than anywhere else."

Absently, a hand touches her belly where Merihem's egg had once sat. It has been a long time, but she still feels oddly hollow.

"Oh."

Lyriel blinks a few times, allowing the information to properly register before she offers a slow, deliberate nod in response to his assessment.

"She almost died, you know. Her egg was all messed up, there, at the start. I always worried that she might...I dont know, get sick or something, because of that.

She's okay?"