[P] we're not meant for history;

[Asterion]

Asterion in sunshine and in shadow* Asterion had always thought the same – that family love must be enough, must be as wide and deep as oceans even when it recedes like the tide. But Talia had proved him wrong. She had torn herself from him, and warned him not to follow, and left nothing but a rime of salt on his skin, on his heart. He had thought then that surely that was the mark of their father, but Florentine made him wonder. Made him think that whatever broken thing sharpened the insides of his twin didn’t need to apply to him. So as the bay listens to her speak of Gabriel, nothing to him but a stranger who wore red, he only watches her with those deep-dark eyes. His gaze lingers on the dagger and, as she continues, he lets himself consider (just for a moment, only a moment) such a reunion. But there are too many questions, a deep pool of unknowns where the surface only reflects a rippling, distorted version of himself. Finally he nods, helpless but to respond to the fire in her eyes, in her heart. “I would like that,” he says, and surprises himself by meaning it. He even smiles, as she goes on about his worrying – whether Flora knew it or no, Asterion had a feeling that is something he’d inherited. Aridela had always been carefree as the stars; his twisting doubting inner thoughts could never have come from her. “Maybe we’re not meant to,” he says, and bumps her cheek with his still-painted nose. I have no idea what a Regent does either… At this he actually laughs, though it isn’t long before the cloud of all the coming responsibilities (whatever they may be) settles on him again. “It sounds like we have a lot of work to begin with. Who else is in your…counsel?” When her voice drops again, when he sees her gaze go elsewhere, he sighs softly and moves to press his warm shoulder against her own. “Luckily there can be a difference between what we feel and what we are,” he says softly, and thinks of his conversation with Eik beside the sea. And then, softer still: “How is he? You can go to him, if you want. I should get cleaned up, too.” For another moment he lingers, reluctant to leave her, but with a last nudge to her cheek he turns to go, his thoughts echoing louder than his feet. @Florentine bleh not my best effort