Atop a tower
Posted: Tue Jun 22, 2010 11:16 pm
Midnight rapidly approached. A lone figure stood on the catwalk of one of the towers. As the wind from the approaching storm whipped her skirts about her, Esmerelda watched the lightning play across the sky in the distance. The few stolen moments alone gave her time for herself. She knew shortly someone would come looking for her. They always did. Especally now after the mishap with the kidnappers. But for now she'd enjoy the few moments she had alone with her thoughts.
Letting her hair out of her snood, she let the wind blow it about. Closing her eyes she outstretched her arms and leaned over the railing of the catwalk. It almost felt like flying. Or whirling around the camp fires of her mother's people, dancing with wild abandon. The last six moons had been so different from the previous two years that Es hardly knew what to do with herself. No war to plan. No constant running in fear of discovery. No scrimping and saving to buy supplies for the army. There was time to insure that people could start their lives over. Could possibly prosper after all the hardship.
That also meant she had time to be a young woman again. Not just a sole focus on regaining her home. And in some ways that frightened her. When Aeric was dead, she could push past the guilt of the harsh words traded the day he died. And while she was so thankful that he was returned to her, there was still a tension that existed between the two of them. How do you bridge a year and a half of the distance of death parting you? She was not the girl who had stumbled blindly into the woods with Gol anymore. Sometimes she felt like she'd grown up into another world and left her brother behind.
And romance. Would she let thoughts wander down that dangerous road? It was so hard when her personal life now had ramifications that went beyond herself. Where was Atrum? Why was he always gone? And how long before he decided to leave for good to search out his family? And then the startling confession of a dear friend. Could that become something more?
A crack of thunder brought her back to the present. The storm was growing closer. Closing her eyes again, she leaned into the wind, waiting for the rain...
Letting her hair out of her snood, she let the wind blow it about. Closing her eyes she outstretched her arms and leaned over the railing of the catwalk. It almost felt like flying. Or whirling around the camp fires of her mother's people, dancing with wild abandon. The last six moons had been so different from the previous two years that Es hardly knew what to do with herself. No war to plan. No constant running in fear of discovery. No scrimping and saving to buy supplies for the army. There was time to insure that people could start their lives over. Could possibly prosper after all the hardship.
That also meant she had time to be a young woman again. Not just a sole focus on regaining her home. And in some ways that frightened her. When Aeric was dead, she could push past the guilt of the harsh words traded the day he died. And while she was so thankful that he was returned to her, there was still a tension that existed between the two of them. How do you bridge a year and a half of the distance of death parting you? She was not the girl who had stumbled blindly into the woods with Gol anymore. Sometimes she felt like she'd grown up into another world and left her brother behind.
And romance. Would she let thoughts wander down that dangerous road? It was so hard when her personal life now had ramifications that went beyond herself. Where was Atrum? Why was he always gone? And how long before he decided to leave for good to search out his family? And then the startling confession of a dear friend. Could that become something more?
A crack of thunder brought her back to the present. The storm was growing closer. Closing her eyes again, she leaned into the wind, waiting for the rain...