the bitterness of winter or the sweetness of spring
you are an artist and your heart is your masterpiece
The wind suddenly whipped through the keep, it stirred the candles and made their flames dance wildly. In the firelight, Valan was an unrecognizable shape to Thomasin. The winter flame was now a creature of lore and whispers, something that would go bump in the night, a bogey-man.
How weak the little lamb must have looked – fragile and breakable, as if the wind would push her over and shatter her delicate body into pieces scattered across the cobblestone. A familiar pain grew in her; all she was was a glass doll, try as she might to become anything stronger or braver, she knew deep within her heart that she was always going to be a keepsake: something pretty, sure, but something you place on the highest shelf in hopes of not breaking her. A porcelain vase, a family heirloom to watch all the action from the inside. Never touched. Collecting dust.
God, how she longed to be something more. Not just a frail treasure. How she wished to be a scarf instead – something well worn and loved, wrapped around someone she could share her warmth with. Maybe a coat so that she could always give you a hug – or a quilt that is dirty and starting to fray at the ends, but nevertheless a comfort – a needed item.
Her mother had always told her that Thomasin was much too naïve to last long in this world, and it would only be a matter of time before reality would turn her hard and calloused. Kicked out of her childhood home, Thomasin insisted that the world couldn’t be as wicked and cruel as her mother painted it out to be. She would find her place, she would grow braver each day, make both her parents proud.
But as Valan noted her shaking and emotional distress, as this moon wraith continued to speak about how she chose to never end a life again, Thomasin could no longer keep the flood gates closed. Fat tears spilled down the soft curves of her mousy cheeks. She quietly chewed on her bottom lip and looked at the floor with shame. Valan was right: Thomasin was deathly afraid of her. She wrestled with the whine in her throat, forcing herself to remain quiet and just cry. She couldn’t even find the will to turn towards the exit anymore, she simply had accepted that this was her fate. Enchanted, charmed, and then destroyed. She had finally felt like - just maybe - she was being picked up off her shelf, like her adventure beyond these self-constructed walls was going to finally commence. But whatever vice held her did not seem friendly, and it threatened to crush her.
Vampire. Thomasin cataloged this name in her brain: blood-spiller, blood-drinker. Thomasin listened carefully, flinching at every candlelight flicker, waiting for Valan to come closer and rob her of her life. Yet, to her surprise, she did not move closer. In fact, the pale one swore in front of Caligo, that while a monster, she would never harm. The dusty mare kept her head down in submission, but those red-rimmed sorrowful eyes lifted to look at Valan. For a moment, she felt fear begin to be replaced by a different feeling: it was empathy. There was a sort of sadness in the other woman’s voice that sounded so achingly familiar.
Monster. The meek mare was used to that word – not used quite in the same context. For Thomasin would never be capable of harming a fly, but she did have others judge her based on her appearance – based on what they thought they knew about her. Memories of childhood tormentors fluttered across the back of her eyelids, children trying to pick the flowers from her ribcage, taking sticks and trying to poke and prod at her heart. Disgusting. Unnatural. Freak.
Thomasin lifted her chin, sniffled, and shook the tears from her eyes. She spoke at a whisper for it was all she could muster. “Forgive me, Valan.” She rapidly fluttered her lashes, trying to expel the last of her sadness. “You are right. I am very scared of you.” Her breath shook with every syllable she forced from her mouth. “But to be fair, Valan, I am afraid of everything. I am not brave. I am very weak and – “
Thomasin choked up again, but straightened her posture, and turned her raincloud eyes to Caligo’s likeness. “But I choose to believe that you would not harm me; I choose to think that you’re not a monster, just unfamiliar, and I feel like most of us are afraid of the unknown.”
“Caligo would love you.” Thomasin could feel her glow returning. Her heart was slowing and content in the bed of her moss. “You can’t change my mind on that. I am not a masterful work like the Gods. I have a terrible habit of my emotions getting the better of me, but if you could give me grace. . .” She finally returned her eyes to Valan – it pleased her to look at her. The glimmer of her necklaces hugging her marbled skin – why, it made Thomasin realize that there are delicate things out there that are probably well-loved.
“Valan, you scared me before you felt the need to tell me about yourself. You’re so lovely, well-put together. I would assume you are a woman of high stature, who enjoys the finer things. You intimidate me. ” A sigh of embarrassment puffed up her lips. “I have always been a bit of a scruff; elegance and beauty has seemed to evade me. Perhaps I am not meant to be ethereal, I am learning to accept this. My heart-“ The lamb shifted, blaringly uncomfortable. “My heart hangs exposed and I grow a garden from my bones. I am not the best at first impressions either. I have been looked down upon in disgust, like an oddity, like a burden because I am so vulnerable.” Her feet grew hot against the floor, screaming at her that there was still a chance to leave, but instead of listening to them, she chose to deliberately disobey her instincts.
Thomasin took a few steps forward to try and eat the distance between them. Her gaze was unfaltering as she drank in the creature's wild, cranberry curls and her pastel eyes, following down the valleys and depths of her body, to the collection of roses she adorned herself with. Despite her nerves, despite her body desperately yearning to leave, she felt compelled to stay, compelled to give Valan the chance that Thomasin so eagerly wanted herself. “I may be weak, and I do not carry the burdens you carry. I do not know your purpose in this life, I cannot tell you your place or where your fit in the puzzle. But I know Caligo loves me, and I know in my heart she loves you. So you don’t have to figure it out alone.”
Still a bit bleary, a small chuckle escaped the lamb’s pink mouth. “This has turned into quite the confessional, hasn’t it?” Her smile, though small, was warm and inviting.
“Please, it’s just Thomasin. I think we can move past the formalities.”
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"talking." thinking.
tagged: @Valan
vibing to: X
