this is the fate you've carved on me
It had been some time since I had had an afternoon not filled with tasks and errands, and I had chosen to spend this one indulging my love of reading out-of-doors. Already dressed in my bathing suit and shorts, a towel hung over my arm, I stood in contemplation of the bookshelf, hoping it would be cooperative in my desire for something good to read.
What caught my eye instead was not a book-- likely the reason my eye was drawn to it in the first place. Among the novels and magazines, standing upright on its end, was a flat box made of dark wood that shone like satin. Curious, I drew it out, turning it carefully so as not to disturb its contents, which I could hear shifting inside.
As I turned the top to face me, my breath caught in my chest. It was painted with the seven-pointed star of Elua, the sigil of the royal line of Terre d'Ange.
With trembling fingers I lifted the cover, which opened silently on its hinge. A shaft of light from the window above my head was caught and refracted back onto my face in a hundred spots of rainbow, and my breathing hitched. I drew the brooch out slowly, feeling the satin rich beneath my fingertips, and held the Companion's Star up to the light.
It was not so large as diamonds went; certainly Melisande's gift dwarfed it by comparison. But as heavy as that collar was with the weight of my past, so too did this shine bright as proof of all I had worked tirelessly to achieve. I turned it between my fingers, the better to see the seven-pointed star etched in gold on the surface of the gem. For acts of extraordinary gallantry in service to the throne, I remembered the words well. The highest honor in Terre d'Ange, given me by the queen's own hand, and all that hung attendant on it with the giving-- it still tugged at my heart to remember. A boon of my choosing, which I knew my future self had claimed in the name of long-lost Imriel. The right to address my Queen by name before the peers of the realm.
For bearing this, I was royalty in every way that counted.
And yet, I would have given all of it just to have her returned to us here, one more day, one more hour to spend with my friend.
My eyes pricking with tears, at the same time I was startled into a laugh, thinking of how happy we had all been on that day, and how ill Ysandre would take it to see me melancholy at the memory. I resolved, then, to fix the happiness more firmly in my heart, and lifted my head, blinking back tears, to discover someone regarding me from the doorway.
[she might cry on you, but anyone old or new can feel free to tag!]
What caught my eye instead was not a book-- likely the reason my eye was drawn to it in the first place. Among the novels and magazines, standing upright on its end, was a flat box made of dark wood that shone like satin. Curious, I drew it out, turning it carefully so as not to disturb its contents, which I could hear shifting inside.
As I turned the top to face me, my breath caught in my chest. It was painted with the seven-pointed star of Elua, the sigil of the royal line of Terre d'Ange.
With trembling fingers I lifted the cover, which opened silently on its hinge. A shaft of light from the window above my head was caught and refracted back onto my face in a hundred spots of rainbow, and my breathing hitched. I drew the brooch out slowly, feeling the satin rich beneath my fingertips, and held the Companion's Star up to the light.
It was not so large as diamonds went; certainly Melisande's gift dwarfed it by comparison. But as heavy as that collar was with the weight of my past, so too did this shine bright as proof of all I had worked tirelessly to achieve. I turned it between my fingers, the better to see the seven-pointed star etched in gold on the surface of the gem. For acts of extraordinary gallantry in service to the throne, I remembered the words well. The highest honor in Terre d'Ange, given me by the queen's own hand, and all that hung attendant on it with the giving-- it still tugged at my heart to remember. A boon of my choosing, which I knew my future self had claimed in the name of long-lost Imriel. The right to address my Queen by name before the peers of the realm.
For bearing this, I was royalty in every way that counted.
And yet, I would have given all of it just to have her returned to us here, one more day, one more hour to spend with my friend.
My eyes pricking with tears, at the same time I was startled into a laugh, thinking of how happy we had all been on that day, and how ill Ysandre would take it to see me melancholy at the memory. I resolved, then, to fix the happiness more firmly in my heart, and lifted my head, blinking back tears, to discover someone regarding me from the doorway.
[she might cry on you, but anyone old or new can feel free to tag!]