❛❛ These violent delights have violent ends. ❜❜
♡ fandral // romeo and juliet sentence starters
❝ So it is. ❞ Morgan agreed into the night sky before turning her back on the stone railing and all landscape that went behind and beyond. Her feet were sure but the hands folded over her belly told a different tale — Fandral’s words had planted a seed of doubt in her heart. It grew stronger the more she thought about it.
She shuffled mindlessly about the balcony.
He was correct of course, as she herself reckoned. But how could she bridle her feelings and love with moderation? It was not in Morgan to use only half her heart, though she did have wisdom and temperance to spare in all non-amorous matters.
Her feet came to a halt. Her gaze fell on the floor. Why was he warning her? Did Fandral know something Morgan did not suspect? Was this protection promoted by a charitable disposition or born from more selfish a feeling?
If her interpretation was correct to begin with, that is.
The softness in Morgan’s romantic heart had weaved a warning of Fandral’s words out of a belief he had no reason to be anything other than good to her, for what harm had she caused him to justify a different mood between the two? But the lady had noticed the lack of what might be perceived as entertainments and the bellicose disposition of the people around her, even though she could not complain of being greeted with blatant hostility.
It was possible she might be painting Fandral with more noble colours than those of his real palette — in his hypothetical boredom, the god might have thought it a good idea to mess with her head. Why should mischief be exclusive to only one deity?
Morgan repeated Fandral’s words in her head. They sounded more ominous this time and that made her consider a third option that had nothing to do with worry or futility.
A threat wrought with words so pretty that one with a gentle heart could easily mistake for advice. Not everyone cared for Morgan’s presence, or indeed her person. No person can be loved by universal consensus and the lady felt this was an anthropological truth that was not limited to any given realm.
Could this be the way Fandral had found to tell Morgan her days of fun were numbered; a message so ambiguous anyone eavesdropping on their nighttime chat could dismiss as poetry with ease? Who would believe Morgan should she share Fandral’s words interpreted as a menace to her person?
She did not know the soldier well so all options sounded valid in her mind, each as plausible as the next. Morgan quietly put the subtle distance of a couple of steps between herself and him as she recalled the fact with urgency, lest he leave words behind and move on to less verbal methods.
Morgan lifted her knitted fingers to her bosom. The pose was not so insecure anymore but rather firm, strong of will and strong of heart. She could know no fear. After all, it was not without reason she was here, a mortal in the middle of deities. Morgan had to be a bit cleverer than them, further evidencing why another god had chosen her of all women.
Her lips pursed ever so lightly before relaxing again.
❝ Such is the nature of things. The more you give, the more you can lose in the end. But not every time. Why are you telling me this, I wonder? ❞
