Ciri
Winter begins and she does not forget. Does not forget the pain in his golden eyes, the way he had broken in front of her. Does not forget the way Castile had shunned her when she had reached for him, when she had tried to open him up to assess the depth of his feelings. If they had even been real to begin with… She doesn’t know anymore.
Perhaps she had thrown away her life with the Dragon-King for nothing. But she knows it had to be done. Even if what she had felt was only one-sided… It wouldn’t have been fair to Amet. He deserved her whole heart, not half of one. She doesn't seek either of them out, instead keeping to the warm island and close to the red mare and her wisdom. She notes that neither of them come find her either. The silver strands of her eyes remain still and every night she turns her head from the stars, feeling their silence and betrayal worse then even the constant ache of heartbreak in her chest. She misses Amet. His laugh, his kindness, the love they had made. And then there's the endless guilt for she also misses the way Castile had looked at her. The way he had said her name, the way he had wanted her to be his. How quickly that had changed though when she had mentioned Amet's name. King Arthur still ruled his golden lake, Lancelot still went around the world making hearts melt for him.... And Guinevere? Alone in the nunnery.
Instead of wasting away, her stomach slowly begins to swell. It is only with the constant nagging mothering of Jah that she bothers to take care of herself at all. She should care more but she can’t find it in her. Not when her world has completely shattered around her. Curling herself within the ferns, her metallic gaze forlornly watching the come and go of the tide and the sandpipers running amuck in the surf. It’s so peaceful here, it’s safe. Quiet. It’s paradise but it feels like hell. A purgatory with no light at the end of the tunnel, no way out.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
@[Castile]