[P] sweet like cinnamon

[Elena]

“I hope that was worth it,” Heartfire had once said to her when she had thrown herself to her possible death in front of a man she had never met before. Elena had stared up at her from the pit she had fallen in with her own reckless nature. And despite herself, she had smiled. Was it worth it?

She runs to the sea because it is where she feels alive, stands on the rocky shore like she is perched on eternity. Snow blankets down, cold, and it coats her skin like scales of ice. Night fell in Terrastella, and the whole world seemed to become varying shades of inky black, fading into pale silvers as the moon washed down across the land. Her golden coat seems almost insignificant under twilight as opposed to the daytime sunshine. She knows behind the clouds, far above in the sky, there were stars everywhere. Pinpricks of flickering gem-bright colors you could make out the longer you stared, but looked plain and cold and silver at a glance. She closes her eyes, wishes those clouds away and she fills the sky with them as far as she could see. They are stunning. She wonders if there were ever once a time when everyone was not enthralled by the starlight. She wonders how long ago it was. Maybe at the beginning, way beginning, when darkness still swallowed the world.

She is dreaming of people far away. Of Lilli and her blue eyes, of her mother and what she would have thought seeing her own smile reflect in that of her granddaughter’s. Of her grandmother, who sits in Windskeep, alone, but not quite. She dreams of her godfather, and whether he still holds that kingdom up with both hands, or if he has learned to let go for the sake of his family. 

Elena is still dreaming of them, shivering, standing beside the water, not far from her home. She should go back inside. If Elli woke she would be worried, she would go find Nic in the spare bedroom and awaken the young solider and both would be out here and freezing, slipping in the snow. This was no place for children. It was no time for children. 

She is thinking of a star man, who she likes to imagine was not born, but shed from the night sky. Her own piece, her own star, made just for her. It is a selfish thought, but one she thinks all the same. Even if she shouldn’t, but Elena, lately has been doing so many things she shouldn't do. She continues to stand in the cold, so close to the sea that it sings icicles into her lungs with every breath. She should be going back to bed, back to her daughter, to Nic. She should be going back. But she looks to the sea and to winter and those blue eyes burn like glaciers. 

“I hope it was worth it.” Heartfire had said. 

“It probably wasn't.” The man had told her.

picture by cannon <3
@Boudika