A Matter of the Heart

Apr 16, 2006 14:53

Something on the floor nearby her catches her eye as she settles back into her corner, trying to go back to sleep. It's a roll of the odd electronic paper the Second Age uses. Hesitantly, she picks it up.

To the Lady Nita Callahan:

Speaking with Asmodean a little while ago reminded me of a matter of no small importance to you. I have, by various and sundry means, come into contact with someone you know, Trillian's daughter. She called herself Lyrae Natael for quite some time. I was curious if you would like a meeting arranged.

Now, I must caution you. The girl who was once Lyrae Natael is now known as Astoreth. Since I was not privy directly to her transformation, I cannot exactly speak of the details, but it suffices to say that she felt abandoned by those she loved and turned to power and ambition instead. In short, she has become a powerful Dreadlord in my service through a complicated sequence of events.

I do not know how Astoreth would feel about such a meeting, and I will not have time to ask this evening as this note was all the time I could spare on the matter. That said, please send a note with a servant to me with your preference enclosed, and I will do as you deem fit.

My powers of observation being what they are, I should like to inform you of what Astoreth once thought of you since you seem to have been so woefully ignorant of her feelings. The girl who was once Lyrae Natael loved you, Nita. She loved you in that kind of impossibly romantic way that is born of knowing that it will never be returned (and indeed, she proved herself prophetic in this matter). A keen and heartfelt loving, and a desire to be loved even fractionally in return. Not even that though, she would just have been content to have a little of your time, but for whatever reason, she felt abandoned, and it broke her heart (while many would claim she did not have one she does, or did, at least).

I thought it best to inform you of that lest you go into such a meeting ill-informed.

Sincerely,
Ishamael

Post Signum: Astoreth once quoted something in passing about the matter, and as she often does, this is the most directly that she will state things. If I am remembering correctly it was as follows:

"You did not come,
And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb.
Yet less for loss of your dear presence there
Than that I thus found lacking in your make
That high compassion which can overbear
Reluctance for pure loving kindness' sake
Grieved I, when, as the hope-hour stroked its sum,
You did not come."

It leaves her more confused than anything, uncertain how to react. Random loved her -- loves her -- and now she's here.

What do I do? What does he expect me to do?

What she decides to do, eventually, is go back to sleep. But her dreams are full of shadowy rose petals and broken stained glass.
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