10-02-2019, 09:13 PM
V u l g a r i S
He has never cared for magic of any degree and so it took him quite some time to become accustomed to Leliana’s flowers. Now, he still finds himself flinching internally but he manages to remain stoic on the outside, at least. Slowly, at the same pace the ocean devours a mountain, he is growing to love the flowers that bloom so suddenly as he passes by. Isilya’s vines and petals remind him of Linnea and he finds himself softening at the edges despite the way she seems to brim with energy and vigor. His muscles relax and his shoulders lose their tense posture as he reminds himself not to be so tense all the time, Leliana’s teasing echoing in his mind.
His ears perk forward and he watches her burst with some small, simple joy as she repeats his name. They have been together for years now but he still feels his heart bashfully flutter at being called Leliana’s husband. He offers a nod and a small smile, laughing with his quiet embarrassment as he turns to stare off at nothing for a moment before regathering his composure. It used to be so unlike him to become nervous and yet he finds himself entirely vulnerable these days. He likes it.
“She excels at anything she attempts – being a queen, a mother, or a gardener,” he agrees with a proud smile. “But she pushes herself too hard. She sleeps like the dead after a particularly long day.”
It comes out as a joke but the smile that follows is shallow and weak, framed with his concern. This jungle is nursed by his wife’s magic but there is no one to nurse her when she grows exhausted. He can only kiss her brow and encourage her to rest for at least a short while. He’s never cared for magic but he would learn to craft the vines and leaves on his own if he could, if it only meant she could take a break.
“I’m very glad you’re here to help her with her work, Isilya. I hope we’ll become good friends.”
The corners of his lips find a way to curl upward once more and the warmth comes pouring from his lips as easily as breathing. He has never had many friends, in truth, and even the ones he has now are so busy and far away. It would be nice to have someone to talk to while Leliana is busy or away.
His ears perk forward and he watches her burst with some small, simple joy as she repeats his name. They have been together for years now but he still feels his heart bashfully flutter at being called Leliana’s husband. He offers a nod and a small smile, laughing with his quiet embarrassment as he turns to stare off at nothing for a moment before regathering his composure. It used to be so unlike him to become nervous and yet he finds himself entirely vulnerable these days. He likes it.
“She excels at anything she attempts – being a queen, a mother, or a gardener,” he agrees with a proud smile. “But she pushes herself too hard. She sleeps like the dead after a particularly long day.”
It comes out as a joke but the smile that follows is shallow and weak, framed with his concern. This jungle is nursed by his wife’s magic but there is no one to nurse her when she grows exhausted. He can only kiss her brow and encourage her to rest for at least a short while. He’s never cared for magic but he would learn to craft the vines and leaves on his own if he could, if it only meant she could take a break.
“I’m very glad you’re here to help her with her work, Isilya. I hope we’ll become good friends.”
The corners of his lips find a way to curl upward once more and the warmth comes pouring from his lips as easily as breathing. He has never had many friends, in truth, and even the ones he has now are so busy and far away. It would be nice to have someone to talk to while Leliana is busy or away.
In this shook-up, twisted world, I'm gradually growing transparent and vanishing
Don’t look for me; don't look at me
Don’t look for me; don't look at me
