She tries not to think of her own immortality often.
To do so only reminds her that there will never be any going home (what is home anymore?), that she will never be able to reunite with her family. Her parents will gray with age and eventually pass (and will she know when that time comes?). Her siblings will cross over - one by one - until she is the sole heir of a dynasty that had once stretched spanned realms and worlds.
There had been a time that all one would have to do was look at the fire-forged sheen beneath her copper coat and see the brilliance in those blue eyes to know who she was. Generations before, there would have been very places that Lilliana could have gone and remained unknown. She had the sky in her eyes and the flames on her skin and they would have known the legends and the tales of the herds that remained secluded away in an ancient valley, in a place where the horses were said to have been descended from the golden rays of the sun itself.
It's been such a long time since she has felt the sun.
It's dark all around them. The night feels never-ending, even with Leonidas' light. Had Lilliana been alone, she might have felt the usual stifling feeling it often brings. The way it wraps around her throat, the way it burns against the lids of her eyes. A presence that always reminds her that it is there. Perhaps after all this time, it should be a familiar comfort; she has come to know this far more intimately than any lover.
Lilliana turns to look at the expression of the Watcher, the way he studies the star and presses his lips together like he still doubts something that he can see with his very eyes. She looks up then, too. Should she be more reverent in the presence of her bonded? Leonidas has never said anything of gods or creators that might exist in the world above. He has said things that she has heard before (from Orani and it isn't a coincidence that Lilliana had pleaded with the star-talker; it isn't a coincidence that she begged for something to chase away her dreams and that Leonidas appeared).
"Your father had stories about the stars?" she asks, surprised that he hadn't mentioned it before. There is the stamp of his hoof against the frozen ground but she can't help the small burst of hope that blooms in her chest despite the frigid winter chill around them. Lilliana glances back up to Leonidas then, the way that the star has started to float towards them again.
@[Warden] is grumbling and Lilliana has to fight back a smile.
"For now, perhaps." She is musing, dreaming. It feels almost heavenly to do so after so much time away from it. It feels like falling into the embrace of something lost; of finding something that went missing long ago. It feels like a broken piece of her soul finally clicking back into place.
"Your horns," she says with a breathless laugh existing on the tip of her tongue. "Your wings." The start of a smile quirks to one side and Lilliana glances to the Watcher. "I imagine you could take up the entire sky," and with that Leonidas brightens, dims, and retreats to his bower, rather affronted at the idea. "So dazzling that you'd even eclipse the sun."
It never occurs to her that the sun could be eclipsed by something sinister.
It never occurs to her that the very stars they contemplate beneath could flicker out.
To do so only reminds her that there will never be any going home (what is home anymore?), that she will never be able to reunite with her family. Her parents will gray with age and eventually pass (and will she know when that time comes?). Her siblings will cross over - one by one - until she is the sole heir of a dynasty that had once stretched spanned realms and worlds.
There had been a time that all one would have to do was look at the fire-forged sheen beneath her copper coat and see the brilliance in those blue eyes to know who she was. Generations before, there would have been very places that Lilliana could have gone and remained unknown. She had the sky in her eyes and the flames on her skin and they would have known the legends and the tales of the herds that remained secluded away in an ancient valley, in a place where the horses were said to have been descended from the golden rays of the sun itself.
It's been such a long time since she has felt the sun.
It's dark all around them. The night feels never-ending, even with Leonidas' light. Had Lilliana been alone, she might have felt the usual stifling feeling it often brings. The way it wraps around her throat, the way it burns against the lids of her eyes. A presence that always reminds her that it is there. Perhaps after all this time, it should be a familiar comfort; she has come to know this far more intimately than any lover.
Lilliana turns to look at the expression of the Watcher, the way he studies the star and presses his lips together like he still doubts something that he can see with his very eyes. She looks up then, too. Should she be more reverent in the presence of her bonded? Leonidas has never said anything of gods or creators that might exist in the world above. He has said things that she has heard before (from Orani and it isn't a coincidence that Lilliana had pleaded with the star-talker; it isn't a coincidence that she begged for something to chase away her dreams and that Leonidas appeared).
"Your father had stories about the stars?" she asks, surprised that he hadn't mentioned it before. There is the stamp of his hoof against the frozen ground but she can't help the small burst of hope that blooms in her chest despite the frigid winter chill around them. Lilliana glances back up to Leonidas then, the way that the star has started to float towards them again.
@[Warden] is grumbling and Lilliana has to fight back a smile.
"For now, perhaps." She is musing, dreaming. It feels almost heavenly to do so after so much time away from it. It feels like falling into the embrace of something lost; of finding something that went missing long ago. It feels like a broken piece of her soul finally clicking back into place.
"Your horns," she says with a breathless laugh existing on the tip of her tongue. "Your wings." The start of a smile quirks to one side and Lilliana glances to the Watcher. "I imagine you could take up the entire sky," and with that Leonidas brightens, dims, and retreats to his bower, rather affronted at the idea. "So dazzling that you'd even eclipse the sun."
It never occurs to her that the sun could be eclipsed by something sinister.
It never occurs to her that the very stars they contemplate beneath could flicker out.
Remember when our songs were just like prayers
Like gospel hymns that you caught in the air?
but it's all in the past, love
it's all gone with the wind