Post by Ophelia Harrington on Aug 9, 2015 3:57:43 GMT -5
Ophelia had never considered marriage, or children – she had wanted neither. Instead, she had wanted the life of a Bard: the constant travel; never settling in one place; the freedom that she had long desired. Yet, she had given up that life to be with Kythin, to give him what he had desired and while she loved him, she couldn’t help the simmering anger that was brewing in her heart. It was a black spot forming where nothing but light should have been.
The young healer sat watching her two new-born infants as they resting in their cribs. Two children! She had only ever counted on one, enough to keep them content. It was her family, and she was happy with that. Yet, she was also discontent – not with the children but with her new found situation; while he rode off to yet another battle, she was forced to stay in their house, watching the children: she felt like a prisoner in her own home.
This discontent was spoken to no one; she did not even tell her siblings, for she knew what they would say. They would crow about how they had been right but they would never understand: she had trusted his love, and his devotion. She was, as ever, the consummate actress and so while he rode back and forth to Dunsany, she remained behind – her dreams awash, and her heart slowly melting.
The only creature in the entire world that understood Ophelia fully was Sage, the purret that was her constant companion and eventually, she became her only confidant. Only Ophelia could hear the feline and if she forgot to speak inside her head – it oft looked like the Bard was talking to herself, rather than holding a fully-fledged conversation.
He had made promises, promises it seemed he now found easy to break.
The young healer sat watching her two new-born infants as they resting in their cribs. Two children! She had only ever counted on one, enough to keep them content. It was her family, and she was happy with that. Yet, she was also discontent – not with the children but with her new found situation; while he rode off to yet another battle, she was forced to stay in their house, watching the children: she felt like a prisoner in her own home.
This discontent was spoken to no one; she did not even tell her siblings, for she knew what they would say. They would crow about how they had been right but they would never understand: she had trusted his love, and his devotion. She was, as ever, the consummate actress and so while he rode back and forth to Dunsany, she remained behind – her dreams awash, and her heart slowly melting.
Ophelia Harrington was not happy and there was nothing that she could do about it.
The only creature in the entire world that understood Ophelia fully was Sage, the purret that was her constant companion and eventually, she became her only confidant. Only Ophelia could hear the feline and if she forgot to speak inside her head – it oft looked like the Bard was talking to herself, rather than holding a fully-fledged conversation.
“You could write all of this down.”It all seemed for nought before she could even think another thing, or articulate another feeling. She did not know what secrets she would have given to the cat had Jacen, the boy, not awoken to tug on her heart strings so she could coddle him, while he cried. It wouldn’t be long before his sister awoke too, and she would have to contend with both of them. Silently, she admitted to herself, hidden from even Sage: “I can’t do this.”
“No, he would see it.”
“Tell him, Ophelia – remind him of his promise.”
“And have him feel the way I do? I wonder how easily his love would turn, would cross the line into hatred?”
“And how long until you feel the same towards him? Do you think yourself so above the darkness that you cannot sink into it?”
“You know that isn’t true, Sage! That’s why I trained to be a healer… but even now, I can’t follow that calling.”
