She is aware of his warmth beside her, as much as she is aware of the fire. More than anything he could say, it comforts her; a reminder, if nothing else, that she is not altogether alone. She leans into it without thinking, leans closer against him, and the size of him is a comfort too. It makes her feel small, but not unpleasantly so. It makes her think of another journey, years ago, in the opposite direction: when, as a small child, she had felt some of the same despair, the same fear of what lay ahead.
Edoras had not been the dread and doubt it had seemed to promise when she was a child. Perhaps, strange as it may be to think, exile may lose some of its dread too.
And she could be his wife in truth. Or she could be her own woman, alone, bound to no-one and trapped by no weak and wearied responsibility. Or his...
"Frylla?" The word sounds strange on her tongue - not nearly as alien as the Sindarin she has sometimes picked up from southern travellers, but strange all the same. It is not a word she has heard before, nor can she guess at its meaning from context.
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sforzinda
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Date: 2025-04-04 01:48 am (UTC)Edoras had not been the dread and doubt it had seemed to promise when she was a child. Perhaps, strange as it may be to think, exile may lose some of its dread too.
And she could be his wife in truth. Or she could be her own woman, alone, bound to no-one and trapped by no weak and wearied responsibility. Or his...
"Frylla?" The word sounds strange on her tongue - not nearly as alien as the Sindarin she has sometimes picked up from southern travellers, but strange all the same. It is not a word she has heard before, nor can she guess at its meaning from context.