[P] I dream in blue [tenebrae]

[Elena]

every day it feels like I’m holding back an ocean

Elena finds herself longing for the peaceful days of her youth. 

For the times spent in the secret fort with her red haired cousin, where Alvaro would so often come to seek them out. “What are you girls doing? It’s getting dark, time to go home,” he would say in that gruff voice of his. And there they would sit, with innocent smiles on their faces, begging him to join in on one last game, and Alvaro begrudgingly doing so. The times where they sat looking at clouds talking about their future. (“Would you travel beyond the mountains?” “I don't know, maybe. Would you?” “I don't know, maybe.”)

Only if you come with me.

She aches for those times when they could just be little, silly fillies, thinking their whole lives were ahead of them. 

She looks as if she had everything together. Elena had found her direction in life, and despite the great sorrow Elena has faced in her short life, she looks assured, determined, graceful. She looks so strong, the immoveable, unshakeable Elena, but in truth, her heart has broken a thousand times over and she thinks maybe it just cannot break any more, otherwise it may never be able to repair itself again. 

She heads to Night Court, like she never has before. She has heard about the land. A festival! They are having a festival and there is such a girlish, giggling part of Elena that says she must attend. Denocte holds some sort of mystery for the golden girl and she vainly looks at her reflection, satisfied when it looks like every blonde hair is in place. She doesn't know that she walks to the land where the blonde man with those devastatingly blue eyes that look like flecks of sky lives. Elena has no idea that Michael  resides in these lands, that his stories echo in walls. 

She is going to a festival. 

The sunshine child arrives in the meadow as her senses are tickled by lavender, excited voices of strangers, and the taste of excitement settling on her tongue as soft as cotton. Blue and gold are etched on every banner. The scent of lavender reminds her of a particular bend by a particular river in a particular place in a particular land that Elena has not seen in quite some time. 

(And it reminds her of a particular friend which brings a particular smile onto her face.)

She settles herself against the backdrop as she watches the groups dance and sing on the main floor, with flowing hair and wild steps and Elena content to be their humble audience member. She knows as the sunsets further that they would spark a fire, perhaps the part the girl is most eager for.



* e l e n a
in the dark I’ll pray for the return of the light
the sunflower daughter of benjamin and beylani
medic of dusk.

@Tenebrae