Help! I need somebody - Plant Ladies

[leliana]

Leliana

Leliana has found that retirement suits her just fine.

She worries, still, for those whom she loves. She worries for her family and the way that they have spread apart and fractured but her magic is not great enough to keep tabs on them at all times and she finds that, even when she can, she tries her best not to. It feels like an invasion of privacy to constantly shadow them with her gifts—to haunt them without their implicit agreement—and she pulls her magic back into her chest where it belongs. Resigns herself to the life of the normal mother, worried from afar.

That is not to say that she does not find ways to amuse herself, to pass the time. Her children, most of them at least, still come to visit her, and she travels to visit them when she can. When she does not look after them, she tends to the gardens that grow lush and overfull throughout Tephra, taking the soot and the ash and growing in grand designs—completely hiding the marks of fire that had once scarred them.

And she spends her days with Vulgaris, quiet and content, at least.

Today though, he is off wandering, and she turns her attention toward the gardens. She hums to herself as she walks amongst the various paths and trees, the groves that she has grown, and the flowers that bloom in impossible brilliance. It is only when she feels the same tremor run through her hooves that her hazel eyes turn to the border. She does not often interject herself into the political workings of Tephra—much like her role as a mother, she prefers to leave Isilya her freedom—but her curiosity gets the best of her.

She does not have the same qualms of teleporting as Isilya and opens up a window to the border and steps through in a flurry of leaves and petals that settle into the long roping of her flowering crimson mane. Her smile grows wide when she sees her dear friend and the young girl, dark lips curving gently. Walking forward, she comes to Isilya’s side, peering down toward the flower to give it the proper appraisal.

“How beautiful,” she breathes, her voice calm and steady.

When she looks back up, her eyes are kind.

“My name is Leliana.”

but there you go again, turning golden, right there in front of me