Lovis
I am made of
Memories
He gave himself to her touch, "And I too; am charmed to be met, Cerridwen," a hesitant smile and a dip of his head were meager offerings, "Lovis of Delumine." He gave his name without flourish. But oh! Oh, how reverently he uttered the name of his homeland.
He followed her. His steps stuttered and unsure. Should he walk before her? Or after her? Or alongside? Lovis was unpracticed in social etiquette. He kept his gaze forward. Unsure of what to say. Fidgeting he adjusted the fabrics he wore. He stole away a good look at her face. A look at her. A look at her to anchor himself in the present. A woman decorated by all the beauty he supposed fae themselves must too be granted.
However pretty a face it can only be a distraction for so long.
"My son--," his voice crumbled and failed him. They caught in his throat. He wondered if his ghosts would ever allow him a reprieve from their existence, "My son," he had cleared his throat, "he loved to visit here. He loved how open the land is. Though I only came for herbs." Sheepish, "You must excuse the mood you found me in, for I am not one to leave home."
Cedoc had inherited the adventurous spirit of his mother. Lovis had so admired their willingness to venture.
Nowhere had tethered his boy. Thus there was no place that Lovis could go where he was not haunted by remnants of tattered memories. Sometimes it was a comfort; to see a loved one peering back at him through the veil of time.
Lovis smiled thinking of how Cedoc would have likely already charmed the woman with wit and charm that so readily came to him. "Do you have children of your own?" A gentle pry.
@Cerridwen thank you so much! Means so much to hear <3 I think your girl reads anything but choppy. Your writing is lovely!
