03-27-2022, 03:32 PM
Lillibet
The flames that emanate from Fyr and dance across the inky black surface of the river are beautiful, and his control over them helps, too, grow the flame of jealousy that curls in her stomach. Its reappearance is sudden and misplaced, taking away from the new closeness she feels for the fire-wielder in a way that is unfair to him. It’s not Fyr’s fault that she had been born nearly devoid of magic, or that he had been lucky enough to be granted it. Lillibet tries her best to temper the green monster inside herself and listens adamantly to the dapple stallion as he continues unfettered and unaware of her inner turmoil.
What Fyr reveals soon distracts Lillibet from her personal hang-ups. She thinks of Oceane and Ledger, how supportive they had been during her childhood, and how traumatic it would have been to grow without that. Without them. She presses her shoulder a bit more securely against Fyr’s, turns her gaze to watch his face as he speaks, but does not break her one-sided silence. He does not need her condolences, and furthermore, she does not want to impart the impression that she pities him for his upbringing in any way. He had been lucky that Aela had found him, that the Pampas had become his family.
And then the sea had swallowed it all whole.
Lillibet frowns at the thought before dragging her attention back to Fyr as he tells her of his biological father. A wielder of shadow instead of flame. She wonders who his mother had been, if she had possessed magic capable of razing forests. Her golden eyes return to the water and its spectacle of fiery blooms, this time without jealousy or malice, and lets a quiet sigh fall from her lips.
”I’m just so tired of being hopeful that everyone is still alive." She pauses, knows full well that this new pessimism will do naught to help them or console their worries.
"We should have found them all by now.”
