We Bear Our Cloaks
Posted: Wed Apr 12, 2017 3:45 pm
Like many others, Padraig wasn't comfortable speaking about death or slavery in particular. Hearing about them either. Perhaps his views of death might have evolved some, given Faith's style and focus of worship, though he couldn't claim he'd every embrace it. But as she spoke to the others, at least he more than most realized that all of these things, her past, her present, the rest of it, were what made her exactly who she was. And for that, he was grateful.
And when she finished speaking and joined him again? He smiled, took her hand and leaned in to whisper. "You are a wonder. And I am very, very proud of you." But Immortals forbid that all of this result in her going into labor early. Then again, he wondered, what was early? Time had been turned on it's head of late, and better not to tempt the fates by questioning it.
He grinned a little when she was handed the goblet, knowing what Mattieus did not. He said nothing though and was impressed by how well Faith hid her distaste for the stuff. And so when she handed him the wine, he took a sip and passed it on to the next one.
He'd rarely seen her so delighted with an article of clothing. But this? This was different. It was a symbol as much as a garment. A symbol of what she'd accomplished and would accomplish still. She'd earned it. So why not put it on now and wear it proudly? So if the time was right, then he'd help by taking the garment and slipping it over her shoulders.
And when she finished speaking and joined him again? He smiled, took her hand and leaned in to whisper. "You are a wonder. And I am very, very proud of you." But Immortals forbid that all of this result in her going into labor early. Then again, he wondered, what was early? Time had been turned on it's head of late, and better not to tempt the fates by questioning it.
He grinned a little when she was handed the goblet, knowing what Mattieus did not. He said nothing though and was impressed by how well Faith hid her distaste for the stuff. And so when she handed him the wine, he took a sip and passed it on to the next one.
He'd rarely seen her so delighted with an article of clothing. But this? This was different. It was a symbol as much as a garment. A symbol of what she'd accomplished and would accomplish still. She'd earned it. So why not put it on now and wear it proudly? So if the time was right, then he'd help by taking the garment and slipping it over her shoulders.