[P] Dew in the Valley

[Florentine]

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There is a quiet here, one born of respect and wariness. Divinity is an essence Florentine can taste upon the air. It is an elixir upon her tongue, sweet, enchanting and as electrifying as the four eyes that watch and blink and watch again.

For all of Tempus’ divine presence, her heart does not fear him. It beats slow and steady, thrilled for only a few rapid beats before it calms again. 

She had left behind paintings, sculptures - a myriad of art - of Vespera, yet as the Dusk Queen stands here, before Tempus, she knows this is the only got she might ever show adoration for.

Time twists and weaves about her skin, it’s morphs and turns, slows down and speeds up. She feels it all as a whisper along her skin, a static that rouses her own time-traveller’s magic. Her dagger grows light and ready.

In silence she feels the warmth of her brother and her sister; one by blood and the other by devotion to their people. Terrastella’s trio are bound by love.

In silence she watches as the Night Court regime arrive. Her eyes drift over each of them in turn but then her gaze returns to the alive statue.

She meets the stare of the greater god and she wonders what changes might come. There was always change, nothing was ever still. Existence was to forever be in a state of flux.

There is little more she can add to what others have said before her. This is not the place for petty squabbles. ‘I echo the words of the Dawn and Day regimes. I have been to enough worlds, enough times, to know that peace - however much we strive for it- is rare. Between circumstance, not loving enough and hating too readily, there is always unrest.’

Her amethyst gaze drifts briefly to the King of Stars, then to Somnus and Seraphina. ‘Our Court’s have worked together. We are moving more toward a time of peace - despite recent events.’ Then her eyes stray to Asterion, her lips smoothing along his shoulder. ‘Indeed, tell us, so we might be ready.’

florentine
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