the girl with the glass.

acts of affection | accepting

@hamartio​ sent to maliinah: ☆ / getting them something they need before they ask for it. 

maliinah had been working on her shoes for a while,  darning the folds of silk around the box so they will lay flatter and thus,  make dancing easier,  especially on these weak,  broken boarded floors.  she reaches over for her pack,  where her ribbons and such should be,  but finds them just out of reach.

“sir could you-”  and before she can ask,  derya hands her one of her pink ribbons,  with the sewing needles ready.  “oh,  um.”

after the damage  |  accepting

@marshfirc​ said to maliinah, “ did i… s—sav… save him… ? ” 

      “oh,  elona...”  the healer’s hands are directly placed over elona’s chest,  and she is too busy pouring her energy into elona’s wounds to think.  save him?  was there anything to save  -  and it hits her as the skin stitches back together,  and poor maliinah hates to bear the news to her.  they’ve already almost drowned,  already had to escape.  brynjolf and karliah had tried to start some conversation about what to do,  silenced by one cold look from maliinah.

    placing her arms around her,  she pulls elona into her lap.  she’s not sure why  -  she just knows that her hands are shaking,  that the answer to poor elona’s question is a horrible,  terrific no.  

     “ Please, my dear, there’s no need for such formalities! ” She can’t help the giggle that escapes her, which is shortly followed by a forlorn sigh. “ They aren’t working me too hard, but I miss the guild. Can’t seem to find the time to slip away for a visit. ”

     He couldn’t describe the sense of relief that washed over him as he scanned over the letter. This was the closest thing to good news he could’ve asked for and silently thanked the gods for the small reprieve. Half listening and half focused on the letter in his hand Tullius simply nodded in agreement with her words, not that he really knew what she was talking about as he rarely ever had the chance to leave Castle Dour and was even less likely to go out on the road long enough to experience an eerie peace and quiet. No matter how much he wished he could.

     As Tullius folded the letter back up and tossed it onto the table he perked up at the mention of tea. “No more stressed than usual, though a cup of tea does sound nice,” he looked up from where he sat and eyed her disheveled appearance but made no comment on it, “ do you know how to make it?”

     she watches him place the letter down,  and almost takes a moment to laugh to herself.  she doesn’t,  of course,  but the idea that a woman from high rock wouldn’t know how to make tea?  she supposed she couldn’t blame him,  but maliinah still finds it funny.  it’s a culture difference she’s still acclimating to  -  in high rock,  you did not barge in,  but it seemed here that one would not be acknowledged until they were screaming.  skyrim was something else entirely.

     Tullius said nothing at first but simply set down his quill and waited patiently for her to enter. He made no move to get out of his chair and instead held out his hand and gestured for her to hand him the letter. He wasn’t eager to see what awaited him in his Legate’s message as she rarely sent anything that shouldn’t be read immediately and the day had already been long and full of problems he had to fix.

     “How is it out there,” he finally spoke, his tired voice breaking the silence that had settled over the room after she’d announced herself, “run into any trouble on the roads?”

     “none, sir.”  a rather bold faced lie,  given her general hurried state,  a rip in the pleat of her robes,  and a bit of stray blood still on her chin,  but maliinah brushes past it.  she hands him the letter;  contained is the general state of the troops,  numbers wounded,  and most importantly,  news of a captured fort,  in their favor,  of course.  the war was going surprisingly well for,  well,  being a war.  “it’s...  rather eerie,  how peaceful and quiet it can be out there,  sometimes.”

@tymesend​ | call

     “ Maliinah! ” The argonian’s voice is a chirp when her gaze falls upon the breton. “ I haven’t seen you for some time! How are you? ”