There's blood on your tongue
when you kiss me goodbye
She’d been surprised when he asked her to join them for this trip. To attend a winter gathering with him. It has been so long since she’s been to a social gathering like this, but she had readily agreed. Once she might’ve been one of the first to know about such a thing. But those days are long behind her, left behind when the land and heaved and the kingdom’s she had known disappeared.
She is happy though, for perhaps the first time in a very long time. She has been troubled for so long, and though those troubles have not disappeared, having a home and having a purpose in life, even one so small, is a balm to her wearied soul.
The children are with them, his two beautiful souls and another with her, a boy she had brought home so recently. He may not truly be an orphan, but he is hers now as much as her other children are hers. Just watching him brings a smile to her lips and a glow to her eyes. She had missed this, so very much. It makes her impossibly happy to have him here with her. With them.
As Ruan encourages his children to go and play, she does the same for Fraction. Here he would be safe at least, surrounded by the protective force of those who wished only cheer and healing. He could play like any other child, and she could worry just a little less.
Her gaze trails after them for a long moment, watching them leap and play and in the snow, enjoying this rare moment. She only draws her eyes away when Ruan turns them towards the festivities, drawing her along that they might enjoy some time with those who are less interested in play and childish ventures.
She halts alongside him when another set of rambunctious children dash in front of them, an amused smile touching her own lips as she watches them. When Ruan speaks however, she turns to peer at him, bright gaze curious and intuitive. She finds the question not at all odd or rude, especially given the little ones they had just sent off to play. And though Fraction might be easily enough mistaken for hers, given his color, Ruan would know he was not. Even if his sudden appearance were not a clue, her rather obvious lack of pregnancy would no doubt be telling.
“I do have children,” she replies easily, though a faint hint of sadness tinges her words. Even now, she misses them greatly. “But they all grew up a very long time ago.” Even her youngest, her beautiful twins, were long since grown and gone, living their own lives. Perhaps if she hadn’t slept, she might have been able to keep track of them better. But now, though she has tried looking, it seems none of them are to be so easily found.
Elysteria