[ and like that, her careful composure evaporates and her face crumples with grief. her own, and for bringing galadriel's to the fore. something she has carelessly not even thought of, not considered. when others hurt, so does she. her heart is tender and gentle, perhaps too much so; for it takes on the pain of others, and she feels it as they do. ]
God in Heaven, please forgive me! I knew not that you had suffered the same. [ her eyes sting, and she averts her gaze in shame. opening up to strangers is a difficult task. it requires trust, which is why she has avoided it until recently. yet here, she finds it also requires something that has slipped her mind: consideration of others.
perhaps she really should simply go back to bottling everything inside. she bites her lip to restrain a sob, instinctively laying a hand over galadriel's. so much about her feels as a mother should. she finds comfort in it, despite her shame. ]
I have never been able to make a choice pertaining to the direction my life will take before. That was always the under the purview of my father. I.. know not even which paths lie before me.
[ how can she choose that which she cannot see? it's terrifying. ]
From a.. friend of mine. Her name is Ilde. She says there are whole books devoted to the history of my land. And what they say.. I would rather die here than return to England. I will not bear a son who will marry six times only to humiliate two wives and murder two more.
I cannot marry a man whose order meant the death of many of my male relations. But I.. [ she glances over at her, shifting awkwardly in place. she is nervous, and the tension in her could draw a bowstring taut. ]
I can see things, sometimes. Unbidden. Things that will happen, things that are happening.
[ galadriel is from a different world. maybe. just maybe, she will believe her. and also not throw her out and accuse her of witchery before the entire ship. maybe. ]
no subject
God in Heaven, please forgive me! I knew not that you had suffered the same. [ her eyes sting, and she averts her gaze in shame. opening up to strangers is a difficult task. it requires trust, which is why she has avoided it until recently. yet here, she finds it also requires something that has slipped her mind: consideration of others.
perhaps she really should simply go back to bottling everything inside. she bites her lip to restrain a sob, instinctively laying a hand over galadriel's. so much about her feels as a mother should. she finds comfort in it, despite her shame. ]
I have never been able to make a choice pertaining to the direction my life will take before. That was always the under the purview of my father. I.. know not even which paths lie before me.
[ how can she choose that which she cannot see? it's terrifying. ]
From a.. friend of mine. Her name is Ilde. She says there are whole books devoted to the history of my land. And what they say.. I would rather die here than return to England. I will not bear a son who will marry six times only to humiliate two wives and murder two more.
I cannot marry a man whose order meant the death of many of my male relations. But I.. [ she glances over at her, shifting awkwardly in place. she is nervous, and the tension in her could draw a bowstring taut. ]
I can see things, sometimes. Unbidden. Things that will happen, things that are happening.
[ galadriel is from a different world. maybe. just maybe, she will believe her. and also not throw her out and accuse her of witchery before the entire ship. maybe. ]