M O I R A
she looks into her mirror,
wishing someone could hear her, so loud
Moira knows her reaction is ridiculous, feels as it stings him like a bee, can see the moment he withdraws, retracts. Some days, she still surprises herself with how emotional she could be. As a healer for the Tonnerre Family, she is supposed to be cool and collected at all times, but Caine puts her on edge, riles her in ways she never knew she would still feel after so many endless days, months, years of practice. Really though, only two years of tutelage had pushed her abilities to be far beyond others her age. Florence and Gael often helped keep her awake, night after night, just so she could finish her book while they studied their laws and other things they needed for their own lessons. Grueling tasks both daunting and exciting awaited her day after day, conditioning her stomach for broken bones protruding from corpses, faces smiling in death in the most gruesome of manners, and children ill on their deathbeds. Mo was privileged enough to have worked with Eluoan as a healer, to see all he saw and come out all the smarter for it. She thought her nerves were made of steel, tempered in fires so cold they burned.
The phoenix woman had thought wrong.
As soon as she feels his wings snap away from her, returning to their position as a mere cloak upon Caine, a scarf of darkness encompassing his body, she feels the air move once more. So quickly does the room expand once again, filling with oxygen that was forced from her lungs. She pants as though she's been cast at sea, left to drown without knowing how to swim. Tears on her cheeks are shameful, and quickly they're wiped away - expunged from existence as though they never were. Moira would have left, rushing from the room with only the clattering of her feet on the marble floors below, were it not for the regret she hears in that single word. 'Wait,' he asks.
Calculating each step, she turns with brows high, defiance in every curve of her arched neck as shoulders square and she prepares herself for the onslaught. But as a cloak about him, unmoving, it is easier to deal with those hateful things at his sides that she herself wears. Now, her own wings cling to her sides, quaking just as her heart settles into a steady drum once more. However, it is not the man that holds her attention but instead the paper folding itself in the air. Forgotten are the books now neatly piled upon a table, she is transfixed as a crane emerges at last.
Soft words meet soft eyes, still bright from unshed tears that are once more held deep within her. Moments pass as his words die in the air between them, and it is minutes until she moves. Lifting the small offering of peace - of friendship? - and turning it in the moonlight until she can see every angle, every word crumpled and shifted until it makes no sense, she hums softly. When the inspection has ended, when her nerves once more ring with courage instead of fear, only then does she step close to him. Leaning forward, on the top of her toes, she places a gentle kiss upon his cheek. "I wouldn't even know what to wish for, Caine." It is an admission as quiet as she is after coming down to her own height once more.
Perhaps she's been too hard, she thinks, regret tumbling in at last. "I'm Moira Tonnerre. Will you teach me to fold a paper?" There's a lightness to those soothing lyrics that are so easily forgotten in a crowd, a hopeful edge to her tone as she peers up to him, and then turns to find a book she doesn't care for instead of those so rich in healing arts that lie upon the table. Plucking one from the shelves near the lower levels, Mo places it upon the tables and sits with both the novel and the crane in front of her. When she looks to him again, she waits, expectant and eager as ever. After all, she's missed learning new things.
@Caine what a lovely novel. what a lovely boy !
wishing someone could hear her, so loud
Moira knows her reaction is ridiculous, feels as it stings him like a bee, can see the moment he withdraws, retracts. Some days, she still surprises herself with how emotional she could be. As a healer for the Tonnerre Family, she is supposed to be cool and collected at all times, but Caine puts her on edge, riles her in ways she never knew she would still feel after so many endless days, months, years of practice. Really though, only two years of tutelage had pushed her abilities to be far beyond others her age. Florence and Gael often helped keep her awake, night after night, just so she could finish her book while they studied their laws and other things they needed for their own lessons. Grueling tasks both daunting and exciting awaited her day after day, conditioning her stomach for broken bones protruding from corpses, faces smiling in death in the most gruesome of manners, and children ill on their deathbeds. Mo was privileged enough to have worked with Eluoan as a healer, to see all he saw and come out all the smarter for it. She thought her nerves were made of steel, tempered in fires so cold they burned.
The phoenix woman had thought wrong.
As soon as she feels his wings snap away from her, returning to their position as a mere cloak upon Caine, a scarf of darkness encompassing his body, she feels the air move once more. So quickly does the room expand once again, filling with oxygen that was forced from her lungs. She pants as though she's been cast at sea, left to drown without knowing how to swim. Tears on her cheeks are shameful, and quickly they're wiped away - expunged from existence as though they never were. Moira would have left, rushing from the room with only the clattering of her feet on the marble floors below, were it not for the regret she hears in that single word. 'Wait,' he asks.
Calculating each step, she turns with brows high, defiance in every curve of her arched neck as shoulders square and she prepares herself for the onslaught. But as a cloak about him, unmoving, it is easier to deal with those hateful things at his sides that she herself wears. Now, her own wings cling to her sides, quaking just as her heart settles into a steady drum once more. However, it is not the man that holds her attention but instead the paper folding itself in the air. Forgotten are the books now neatly piled upon a table, she is transfixed as a crane emerges at last.
Soft words meet soft eyes, still bright from unshed tears that are once more held deep within her. Moments pass as his words die in the air between them, and it is minutes until she moves. Lifting the small offering of peace - of friendship? - and turning it in the moonlight until she can see every angle, every word crumpled and shifted until it makes no sense, she hums softly. When the inspection has ended, when her nerves once more ring with courage instead of fear, only then does she step close to him. Leaning forward, on the top of her toes, she places a gentle kiss upon his cheek. "I wouldn't even know what to wish for, Caine." It is an admission as quiet as she is after coming down to her own height once more.
Perhaps she's been too hard, she thinks, regret tumbling in at last. "I'm Moira Tonnerre. Will you teach me to fold a paper?" There's a lightness to those soothing lyrics that are so easily forgotten in a crowd, a hopeful edge to her tone as she peers up to him, and then turns to find a book she doesn't care for instead of those so rich in healing arts that lie upon the table. Plucking one from the shelves near the lower levels, Mo places it upon the tables and sits with both the novel and the crane in front of her. When she looks to him again, she waits, expectant and eager as ever. After all, she's missed learning new things.
@Caine what a lovely novel. what a lovely boy !
