The Sentinels shillelagh

deirdre despised to see starbuck feeling low, and though she desired to reach forward and hold her, to tell her it was all alright, deirdre knew she could not lie. she herself was comforted by starbuck's own words. her worry over starbucks absence had been true and painful--she had worried, and every day the woman had been gone she felt something missing, as though starbuck were a limb upon her own body. it was a phantom feeling, but too real to deirdre.

starbuck spoke of larkspur then, and of a message. though deirdre had not been absolutely certain of starbuck's cause for leaving, the woman confirmed her role in the dark night. deirdre nodded to her words, understanding. she was not sure what skellige had expected from his protege to be--violence would (almost) never beget love! she begrudged larkspur nothing, but to hear of the honeyed girls love... it took her breath away!

deirdre closed her eyes tightly for a moment. she was unsure if she felt any guilt; all that deirdre had wanted was larkspur to be well again, and she had healed her, but had she played a role in her beloved friends imprisonment? deirdre wished to keep her there for selfish reasons, and she realized this, now. she could not begrudge skellige his actions against larkspur or mordecai, either--he could have killed the honeycomb, but he did not. and perhaps mordecai lived yet, as well--who was to know that for certain? even skellige would not!

i put you through too much, deirdre spoke apologetically. i want to know all of what you think, starbuck. please, do not hold back,