@athliotis

     If one had told the sage some time ago that she would live long enough to serve the god which countless years of her life have been devoted to, Naeva would have simply dismissed the comment with a laugh-- turned them away before speaking of the foolish statement with either her husband, or one of the woman's four ladies-in-waiting. Yet here she stands, a single hand grazing over the patterns engraved into a pair of doors which loom not unlike an intimidating set of figures, but a metre or so away from the fell dragon himself-- or, at least, the vessel he is using; her dear child from another timeline, she has been told, for her own is still but a baby. Naeva's free arm embraces the swaddled newborn close to her chest, though such an action is not necessary, for a sling keeps them in place, and after a few more seconds pass, red lips curve up to form a ghost of a smile.

     Thank goodness he graced the mother general with his presence, and bestowed upon her his wisdom before the female’s doubts could warp her thinking, guiding her back onto the path which destiny has so kindly laid out for the sage. Naeva could not be more grateful, for Grima has saved her. Robin is safe here-- the danger had been but the baseless worries of a new mother; a natural reaction to entering motherhood.      Nothing worth abandoning the cause or her beloved partner over.

          “Master Grima...?”

     The two words escape from the mother’s form shortly after a few knocks make themselves heard, her voice soft in tone, but rising a little in volume. Has the woman been summoned by the other? No, yet given the situation Naeva now finds herself in, all she desires is to ensure that her god’s vessel is raised in a way that the fell dragon sees fit-- something which both herself and her husband have decided can be best deciphered by the ‘deity’ itself, who has witnessed what is yet to be.