Sunbeam Lair ❝merintel tirië nissi, híni i artassen mí tárë oronti,❞

Vaguely written & dated a day or so after this. For @Bhediya!

Envinyatar:
she revisits the mem'ry of the fälscher in a veiling of lashes; the tips featherlight o'er the tome that tells the story of how she had beheld his eyes; traces over parchment, wherein the melody of his musings had been scripted. Cradled in this gentled, flushed chamber of ivies and petals and simple leaves; the fraying, earthy waft of sunlit autumn, she feels deeply at ease. And though she is unraveled with shivers which her  ( steadily so )  flourishing Court brings it is thoughts of the musiker which soothe her; end her.

Onwards she forages;
undressing as she goes all that which have brought uneasiness; all that which anchor heavy the pale shoulders but never the shy dimpling of shorn lips.

Once upon a time, when Andraste had been Aurëwen, she had surrendered to a full-throated wander. Had delved into the expressions of nature’s travails; had longed, untried, messy; had laboured, as birthblood met her unproven thighs. In the harvesting before both she had pored over all she could, of the seasons and the seeds. It all might have seemed like a thrashing rebellion, then; the wonderlost that had wended its way so wistfully through her.

Felled leaves; those drying plants;
her wolves were here and him—!

Growing pains; necessary, transitory beneath the Moonspire and all for the present. Foolish still, perhaps. It smolders like a star, and she is following its constellations as she had once so many moons ago; guided. Settled, if only for the realm she means to reign.