Fiona enjoyed such get togethers as the one Florentine had put together, irregardless of the obvious obstacle she faced when in the company of so many others. The lavender painted girl moved steadily through the crowd, offering a smile to everyone who met her eye. Although she held her notebook and pencil close, as always, she had yet to use it. There were so many other ways she could show her affection and appreciation for her fellow court members than words alone could convey. A friendly brush of her shoulder, a simple nodding of her head. Over the years she had learned to speak without having to utter a single syllable.
Fortunately for her, most seemed to understand her silent language.
When Flora called them together, standing strong before her people—gilded and wreathed in soft petals—Fiona stepped toward her, pausing just on the edge of the crowd. And when a body stepped up beside her, familiar in its red hue, she could not help but turn her head slightly to regard the mysterious man from the swamp. Had he received her sketch, she wondered, and if so, what did he think?
The words that slipped past Florentine’s lips caught the lavender girl off guard. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she breathed in sharply. Her, a champion of the court, and Champion of Community, nonetheless? Although her gaze searched her queen’s face for anything other than the truth: that she believed in Fiona, her own thoughts searched within herself for the same belief. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t a big step for someone who was mute, but it was a step she was ready to take. She nodded her head just once, her expression slowly shifting from surprise to determination as she stepped forward to accept her place.
Momentarily, she had been distracted by the rest of Flora’s announcement, though one in particular stole her attention quite completely. When the man next to her stepped up to accept his position as Champion of Healing, Fiona realized she finally had a name for the face that had occupied her thoughts often since their meeting in Tinea. So, he was Atreus… and yet, there was still so much more she did not know. Perhaps, she thought, as she came to stand beside him again, she would have a chance to learn more.
Writing.
Fortunately for her, most seemed to understand her silent language.
When Flora called them together, standing strong before her people—gilded and wreathed in soft petals—Fiona stepped toward her, pausing just on the edge of the crowd. And when a body stepped up beside her, familiar in its red hue, she could not help but turn her head slightly to regard the mysterious man from the swamp. Had he received her sketch, she wondered, and if so, what did he think?
The words that slipped past Florentine’s lips caught the lavender girl off guard. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she breathed in sharply. Her, a champion of the court, and Champion of Community, nonetheless? Although her gaze searched her queen’s face for anything other than the truth: that she believed in Fiona, her own thoughts searched within herself for the same belief. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t a big step for someone who was mute, but it was a step she was ready to take. She nodded her head just once, her expression slowly shifting from surprise to determination as she stepped forward to accept her place.
Momentarily, she had been distracted by the rest of Flora’s announcement, though one in particular stole her attention quite completely. When the man next to her stepped up to accept his position as Champion of Healing, Fiona realized she finally had a name for the face that had occupied her thoughts often since their meeting in Tinea. So, he was Atreus… and yet, there was still so much more she did not know. Perhaps, she thought, as she came to stand beside him again, she would have a chance to learn more.
