She does’t remember how long she stood there leaning against a rock that had been stained by scrapes of her blood. She doesn’t remember how long it took her to cry it out; how long after her leaning stance she had laid down on the grass that smelled of sex and blood and musky sweat - a sweet scent that sickens her now and will for a long time.
She does remember standing up and shakily waggling away; slowly her dull and trembling gait was quickened into a walk, so that from above, if Solace had been flying over and hadn’t looked out for Ilma too well, it may have been a leisurely walk that she undertook to the lake.
Because apparently her queen hadn’t been flying over during the conversation, the rape or Ilma’s soft cries either. Occupied by the political matters of Hyaline’s latest refugees no doubt.
She doesn’t want to think what Solace or Kagerus might say. She doesn’t want to think about Svedka either - his words earlier that summer now have a bite to it. I was meant to show you that everyone in Hyaline is welcome and cared for. I’m only sorry it wasn’t me. How sorry he would be now when word came to him, she doesn’t know.
But ultimately there is one thing she does know.
She can’t see her daughter in this state.
And so her pace quickens once more. Bound for the lake in a straight line - perhaps it’s not too late to wash off the filth, she rocky pieces and crumbling dust that has settled into her coat and sting into her scraped wounds. They will heal; perhaps she will tell her ebony girl that she has fallen. Perhaps she will tell everyone that that is what happened. For the sake of believing that Hyaline is still the safest place to be. Yes. Word cannot get out.
Somewhere deep down she feels she has a part in this, too. After all, if she’d picked up the signals sooner, she might have gotten away in time. She will never be this naive around any man again. Ever. This, she promises herself.
Unlike normally, she doesn’t hesitate to go into the icy cold water of the lake. In fact she just keeps walking and doesn’t stop until she is fully under. There, she blinks a few times to wash away the tears. And she wonders if she can find the strength to turn around for a moment.
She takes long - a little too long for anyone watching - but then she does surface. Clean; if the same could be said for the bloodstained water, she could just be taking a summer swim to cool down.
-mature for the subject of the thread
She does remember standing up and shakily waggling away; slowly her dull and trembling gait was quickened into a walk, so that from above, if Solace had been flying over and hadn’t looked out for Ilma too well, it may have been a leisurely walk that she undertook to the lake.
Because apparently her queen hadn’t been flying over during the conversation, the rape or Ilma’s soft cries either. Occupied by the political matters of Hyaline’s latest refugees no doubt.
She doesn’t want to think what Solace or Kagerus might say. She doesn’t want to think about Svedka either - his words earlier that summer now have a bite to it. I was meant to show you that everyone in Hyaline is welcome and cared for. I’m only sorry it wasn’t me. How sorry he would be now when word came to him, she doesn’t know.
But ultimately there is one thing she does know.
She can’t see her daughter in this state.
And so her pace quickens once more. Bound for the lake in a straight line - perhaps it’s not too late to wash off the filth, she rocky pieces and crumbling dust that has settled into her coat and sting into her scraped wounds. They will heal; perhaps she will tell her ebony girl that she has fallen. Perhaps she will tell everyone that that is what happened. For the sake of believing that Hyaline is still the safest place to be. Yes. Word cannot get out.
Somewhere deep down she feels she has a part in this, too. After all, if she’d picked up the signals sooner, she might have gotten away in time. She will never be this naive around any man again. Ever. This, she promises herself.
Unlike normally, she doesn’t hesitate to go into the icy cold water of the lake. In fact she just keeps walking and doesn’t stop until she is fully under. There, she blinks a few times to wash away the tears. And she wonders if she can find the strength to turn around for a moment.
She takes long - a little too long for anyone watching - but then she does surface. Clean; if the same could be said for the bloodstained water, she could just be taking a summer swim to cool down.
-mature for the subject of the thread
Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time