Timestamp: Evening of the 14th day, Summer season, 513
There it was. It belonged to her. It was beautiful, exquisite, breathtaking in all the ways that an instrument should be. And she wanted to weep for the perfection that called to the depths of her soul. She'd been restless for days, she'd been without purpose for days. And then he'd come... and then he'd gone.
Dasreide had gone. The day before, in a rage, in a tearful misunderstanding, he had gone.
And now, the harp was there in her room, waiting for her.
In solitude, in silence, she went to the instrument and sat without moving... just feeling. The words that had been trapped within her mind and the sensations of her heart found themselves tangled together in threads of lyric and sound and her hands felt compelled. She put them to the strings.
In delicate contralto tones, her voice spoke the song that lived in her veins, alone and enraptured in the perfect solitude, at last able to give expression so many things... She was restless. She was hurting, she was alone, yet she hoped for so much and felt so full of life... even as the curse of death still haunted her. Time was more than a precious commodity now, it was an obsession... with so much lost and nothing found to replace it, all she had was the desperate echoes of self that cascaded from the walls and threatened to drown her.
God, I feel like hell tonight...tears of rage, I cannot lie. I'll be the last to help you understand - are you strong enough to be my man? My man...
Nothing's true and nothing's right, so let me be alone tonight... You can't change the way I am. Are you strong enough to be my man?
Lie to me - I promise, I'll believe. Lie to me... but please, don't leave.
Don't leave.
If you asked her, she could not tell you who she sang to - herself? Her father? Dasreide? To someone she had never met...?
It didn't matter. All that mattered was the reality of what she was feeling, the reality of what was crawling around in her head and threatening to shake the foundations of her sanity.
Being alone had never mattered before. Not like this. There was always him, always shelter, always something to come home to. Always Tromik. And his kind, fatherly eyes would always be there, his strong hands would always be alive, his strong arms always embrace her. There was never a time when she thought even for a moment that he'd be gone... not for many, many years.
And yet gone he was. Stolen from the height of his vigor by a simple misunderstanding.
She should've been there. Could've been there. Should've saved him.
I have a face I cannot show, I make the rules up as I go - it's try and love me, if you can... are you strong enough to be my man? My man...
Are you strong enough to be my man? Are you strong enough...
And then there was the whisper of another.
Dasreide's Lakan left its mark on her throat and his words left a mark on her heart - he was so damned complicated! and yet so easy to understand. The two sides of himself seemed at war and whenever she was with him, she'd felt almost second to his internal conflict... but she was herself. She was here. Now.
Fiercely, she was herself. Bravely, without excuse or explanation, yet with every fear in the world... she was herself. Vulnerable, delicate, passionate and strong - alive in every way that counted.
When I've shown you that I just don't care, when I'm throwin' punches in the air... when I've broken down and I can't stand, would you be man enough to be my man?
Lie to me - I promise, I'll believe. Lie to me... but please, don't leave.
She was herself. And yet so uncertain...
(OOC: Absolutely 100% credit goes to Sheryl Crow for writing such an incredible song.)
