Alphabet Challenge: "B"
B: “Bonum vinum laetificat cor hominis”
It was a rare thing for any of them to sleep in a bed. Whether by the hospitality of someone they’d come to the aid of, or by their own coin in a tavern or inn, it was always a treasured luxury. But even more rare than the bed itself was when Cara would allow herself to indulge in drink. Though the Mord’Sith claimed to be able to hold a great deal of liquor, she freely admitted that she preferred none in her system to keep her sharpness. If she drank, she felt safe, and if she felt safe, then she was more at ease. And the wine certainly did help further that as well.
And it was always wine; D’Haran wine. She grimaced at the lingering sent of port if ever given a less-than-clean glass, and wouldn’t even ‘stoop so low’ as to drink some of the finest brandy from Thrice. Her insistence on this was the closest thing to nostalgia that the Mord’Sith ever expressed.
And honorable as the Mother Confessor might be, she still knew when to capture a favorable wind. When they would lay down in the bed side-by-side, in the privacy of the dark and the walls around them, Kahlan would ask Cara things. And, more importantly, the blonde would readily answer, and sometimes even smile.
And in the night Kahlan would wake up, and feel a body curled up close to her back. Without touching, without reaching, but as close as could be. She wished that Cara didn’t feel she needed the wine to let herself be this way with the Confessor. But Kahlan made sure, on those nights, to settle as close to the middle of the bed as possible.
Translation: Good wine gladdens a person's heart
It was a rare thing for any of them to sleep in a bed. Whether by the hospitality of someone they’d come to the aid of, or by their own coin in a tavern or inn, it was always a treasured luxury. But even more rare than the bed itself was when Cara would allow herself to indulge in drink. Though the Mord’Sith claimed to be able to hold a great deal of liquor, she freely admitted that she preferred none in her system to keep her sharpness. If she drank, she felt safe, and if she felt safe, then she was more at ease. And the wine certainly did help further that as well.
And it was always wine; D’Haran wine. She grimaced at the lingering sent of port if ever given a less-than-clean glass, and wouldn’t even ‘stoop so low’ as to drink some of the finest brandy from Thrice. Her insistence on this was the closest thing to nostalgia that the Mord’Sith ever expressed.
And honorable as the Mother Confessor might be, she still knew when to capture a favorable wind. When they would lay down in the bed side-by-side, in the privacy of the dark and the walls around them, Kahlan would ask Cara things. And, more importantly, the blonde would readily answer, and sometimes even smile.
And in the night Kahlan would wake up, and feel a body curled up close to her back. Without touching, without reaching, but as close as could be. She wished that Cara didn’t feel she needed the wine to let herself be this way with the Confessor. But Kahlan made sure, on those nights, to settle as close to the middle of the bed as possible.
Translation: Good wine gladdens a person's heart