Ravensblood Forest till i’m blind & hiding in the lion’s mouth

No: like her mistakes, she has also been slow to realize the toll this had taken on her children. It wasn’t that Aurëwen was callous and uncaring; it was simply that she tended to get unfathomably tangled up in a primary ambition — challenge Stigmata; find father; fight the Dread — that the woes of those around her went awry in the back of her mind. No, she hadn’t thought to sequester them somewhere safe, first, and it showed in the furrowing of her marred brow and further bow of her head. She never thought much, anymore.

And then her son continued, mistrust in the name of trust deepening, speaking of not doing it again and don’t make choices for us without us. ...They were family, weren’t they? And families made choices together; something she’d put aside a moon ago, when she’d stood against Stigmata and his ideals for her children.

And then: ‘Promise.’ What else could she say to that other than a low, oathful “Wedtā” and a quiet little nod? Aurëwen kept her eyes lowered, away from his so dragă-like testiness. She was a mother... but she didn’t want to be a thoughtless, insipid one.

After an uncertain lull — where her eyes hesitantly flickered to that burning hazel — she shifted in her seat, absently kneading her claws. “Is there anything else you would to discuss with me, Dragomir? Anything you want? ...Or anything I may do?” Wintry ears bedded back into her alabaster ruff, waiting, wondering, and careful to not show her ridiculous hope for now.