#selunight

you forget, at times, just how strong she is: how steadfast, the bedrock of her devotion forged in temple and feathered out into every part of her. there is something kindred in that, for you, something whose particulars escape you but that sings in your soul, just south of the rot blackening your ribcage - the fierceness with which celeste swears her fealty is, in some fashion, familiar to you. it is also idiotic, but [ and you are beginning to realise this, with the slowness of someone who has to catch up very quickly to truths readily apparent to the rest of the world ] such is all love. the shadows choke her goddess' light, here. no moonlight bathes her in silver; no beams of clarity part your veil of violence. still, you take her hands in yours, making mirror of a moment that seems lifetimes old already.

" it's not about what is owed, " you bite, and you are choked, too; tears tighten your throat, but you refuse them, swallow them, not because you revile weakness but because you know they will soak into the cracks of celeste's already made-up mind and strengthen her resolve still further. " where you belong, what you deserve, what divine purpose you have found in me - all meaningless if i - "

deep beneath the waking world and buried under countless feet of stone and dirt, entrenched in the cursed shadows of the underdark, they've found a secret haven in the last light inn. fable sets a tall mug of ale beside of celeste as they sit watching the placid waters surrounding the islet, feet swinging off the dock. she turns a smooth stone in her hand absently, before skipping it along the surface of the lake.

while his words often gave him an advantage, there had been times where he'd managed to talk his way into trouble rather than out of it. a bad call, judgements made wrongly, aksel had fallen into every trap - keeping himself hidden away for so long hadn't served him well, seeing the same customers day in, day out had mad him rusty - he'd let his guard down, his tongue loose.

he was grateful at least on this occasion that he'd not walked into another of his own traps, even if he'd gotten off to a bad start. " i have a feeling i would not want to get on your bad side. " he offered her a smile before he broke his gaze, curious eyes taking a quick glance around at the grove from where he stood. " do you plan on staying here? "

❝ it's a bloody shame, ❞ the bard sighed. her orange-black hair rippled like a flame in the setting sun. she observed the druid grove from a distance, the refugees packing their wares, preparing to leave the only sanctuary they had.