The song of freedom was a somber one. There were cheers. There were yells. There was peace.
There was death.
The city of Mondstadt rejoiced at the death of Decarabian, and Venti could feel the prayers and hopes of the people surge inside of his chest. It was a feeling more potent than any drink, for a split second he could understand why the gods were so unwilling to give it up. It fulfilled him, a subtle promise that everything would be okay. That there were people who would be at his side. It was love. It was energy. It was godhood.
Venti was absent the day afterwards.
Cecil’s friends were by his side most of the night. The Lawerence and Gunnhildrs were talking about guiding the city. At least they knew he couldn’t do it.
He doesn’t know where Ragnvindr took him. The exhaustion of ascension had blinded him as the world became Much More. He could feel the breathing of Cecil’s friends at times. He can be annoyed at a single candle burning in his room.
Ragnvindr was gone. Southwards, presumably. Yet it still stung. Cecil was burred somewhere on that path, and Venti could only hope it was someplace that could see the heavens.
As the anemo god shaped the world, flinging mountains here and there, the path away from the city remained unscathed. Wherever that location was, he felt a primal urge to mark it sacred ground.
There was a veil on his head when he returned.
He can’t look at Cecil’s friends. They want to hold his face. He isn’t him. He isn’t him. He isn’t him.
Buildings, trails, and fences are put up. Northward they go, and they do not want his protection from the wolves in the woods. They do not want his help when he offers to chop wood. They tell him he looks tired, but Venti has never felt so alive!
In the end, he respects their freedom, and slips away into the streets that know his face but not his name.
Slips far far away, to a city with only one resident.
“…” He wants to open his mouth, but that would be rude. There is a candle in her hand, a tradition even older than him in her hands.
No body. No grave. No legacy besides her.
“He is gone.” She speaks, her voice soft.
“We are free.” He wants to say. That should be the right thing to do in this situation, right? Instead, Venti steps a bit closer to his friend. She places the candle on the ground, and sits down besides it. He mimics her, and places himself on the opposite side.
“Is it wrong… for me to…” Amos states, her eyes a tad wet. Fiddling with the band on her hand, she looks up to the sky above the broken tower. “Venti… “
“Yes, Amos?”
“Do you know where gods go when they die?”
The young god was silent. “Do humans know where they go?”
“The leylines.. I think.”
“Then… perhaps he is there as well. I did not feel his energy seep into the dirt, nor scatter across the globe. It was as if he was there and then he wasn’t.” Venti limbs are shaky, but he offers his hand to his friend. She was so small now that he was in this form. Every human was so small.
Amos ran her fingers through her hair as the two of them sat together. Second by second, minute by minute the wax dripped onto the dirt between them.
He looked at her, the winds blowing through her hair like a painting in motion. The huntress’s gaze was unfocsed ofor once, lost in memroeis and sorrow.
Yet he knows what she is thinking.
For he is thinking the same.
“How can I live without him.” Venti mutters seemingly to himself. Amos looks at him, mouth agape. “Cecil has been such a guiding wind to me. Even when he is gone, I define myself with him in mind. I know I shouldn’t do it. But its so easy. I miss him. I know this isn’t… That there has to be a better way.. yet…”
“A part of mind still calls myself his lover, “ She confesses. “I yearn for his gaze. His adoration. His anything. Perhaps… in a world without war.. where the two of us were humans…”
“It could have been happier? Permanent?” Venti can see the candle reaching its end, “A physical phantasmagoria?”
“I am living while he is dead. I know I… I wanted this to happen. Yet…” She looks through him, “Keep this whole thing a secret, please.”
“As long as you keep mine!” Venti smiled, trying to reassure him.
His gambit paid off, for as soon as the last embers faded into the wind, the two spoke to the other of what-ifs and dreams.
If decarabian had ultimate power and authority, and was the one in charge of most laws, then he theoretically could have quite literally asked amos to get a divorce, she could say yes, and he could legally just. Be divorced without any complications. do you have any ideas on some reasons why he just. didn’t do that (look where their relationship ended up smh)
Yes he could However he is full of delusion and can not think of a reason why they would ever be separate :D
"iThe ruler had believed that he had given his subjects a city free from the bitter cold, and to the end, he believed that they had loved him as he loved them." - Venti's Character Story #4
My interpretation of the guy is one who couldn't understand other people. This was his dream! "He tried so hard to make his dream come true, and so the fragments of that dream are still mighty." - Scattered Piece of Decarabian's Dream.
"He once was her love, but the unforgiving winds could never understand the softness of mortal flesh." No matter what, Decarabian was wrong. He was wrong to believe that his people loved the 'protection' he provided. He was wrong to believe that ignoring his wife wouldn't cause her to fall out of love. He was wrong to believe that a city surrounded by a never-ending storm would bring peace. Sure he had his reasons and for that I love to poke at him, but at the end of the day it dosen't erase what he did.
My own interpretation of him was much like Havria and Ei, gods who tried their hardest to protect the citizens they adored but ended up bringing them suffering. Like the electro archon he clipped the wings of his city and I do think he didn't realize how bad his own city was until it was too late. It's said that the outside world was covered by a certain wolf's blizzard, so the constant swooshing of wind(in his mind) should have protected his city from the chill.
This strays a little in hc territory, but I do think he had some relationship (PLATONIC) with the shade of time. The thousand winds temple was in his territory after all and I don't think he would have allowed another god- even one as powerful as a higer being, into his lands without some familiarity. And it is this familiarity is one of the reasons why I think Decarabian is Like This.
Sure it takes a bit of creative interpretation but god dam it im making a sandcastle out of these specks.
.
So you got this immortal who's friend (Isaroth) is MIA while he needs to take care of a city while a war is going on. A war that is being started by Celestia. A place that your friend used to live in but is now being owned by the presumed killer of your missing friend's creator. AND there is this wolf outside that is just waiting and watching, trying to get in. Get to where your children are.
You can't loose anyone else.
He dreams of his city being happy. His city. A "dream of prosperity [that] was created entirely by his divine might". The "capital city he had raised." A dream that "would have gone on forever." He thought everything was fine. Everything was perfect. That he was loved and they loved him right back
What a delusion
He would never have asked for a divorce. He wouldn't see the reason to have one. He was living in a dream world with a person he adored like the sun. The apple of his eye. His equal.
So even when she dreams of a time before this all. Dreams a different dream than him. Wishes for things that he wouldn't want. She's just being silly! She's just confused! This is what's for the best!
What a delusion
She has always held his divine gaze. Even when she aims an arrow at his fabricated heart. She may have his heart, soul, and eyes- but she never had his ears. His dreams.
#old Mondstadt probably loved short stories like A Monkey's Paw and uses those types of metaphors a lot#a promise from their god of love and safety being twisted so... so they find ways to twist up the twist
Thinking about Decarabian's story later being told as a cautionary tale against a controlling suffocating 'love', and the role Amos would have played in such a narrative....anyway I'm curious what you think of Decarabian and Amos' relationship specifically as 'lovers' 👀
HELLO! I, TUMBLR USER DECARABIAN DIVORCE IS TOTALLY NORMAL ABOUT THESE TWO AND THEIR FAILURE OF A RELATIONSHIP.
COME CLOSER
I WILL NOT BITE
oKAY SO
My interpretation of Decarabian and Amos is that of two people that really cared about each other and so thought that perhaps they should be romantically involved with each other. I have a couple writings about how I think they would first meet (Left in my bestie's ask blog like a cat)
But! To understand that I must share how I interpret Amos! She is my babygirl and I think about her a nooooormal amount. Okay so Amos was a hunter at the start of the archon war, but thanks to her courtship she was basically cursed to have the same lifespan as Decarabian. This sounded like a completely sane and normal thing to agree to at the altar, a literal til death do we part. She had been alive for centuries by the time of the rebellion, and when her husband's 'heart' stopped so did hers.
Decarabian on the other hand, has been alive even before the time of the archon war,,, cause ya know,,, he needs to found Mondstadt. Now the city itself wasn't the only place that Decarabian reigned from. The snowy mountains had villages such as Sal Vindagnyr, and he was there to witness the celestial nail be dropped. He saw the horrors gods could inflict on other beings and this shattered his trust in any other divine being. Such a tragedy also made him think about how fragile humanity is, and thus he vowed he would keep Mondstadt safe. At all costs.
They both had a couple of friendships before this all went down, I like to hc Deca as knowing Kairos and thus when she went MIA it only fueled his parania. His closest neighbors were Liyue, and he did not trust a single god from there, and we all know he and Andrius had beef.
Amos, however, was a pillar of Mondstadt's community. She was a hunter! She was strong and powerful and in present-day Mond terms she would be as reliable as Jean or Noelle. However, Mondstadt wasn't as.... free as present-day Mondstadt. With her parents dying when she was about 20 or so, many people kept implying for her to start a relationship.
She.. hated disappointing them. She had never felt the need to take a lover before, but a companion? A friend she coudl share secrets with and be by her side? She craved warmth.
It only got worse when the war started and Decarabian is like "oh shield time everyone! :D " and now she was Stuck. Stuck and unable to go out to hunt. She felt like a burden. A testament to her name. She would spend long days helping out the city as best she could, telling every one of her friends that were concerned for her lifestyle that she was simply too busy for a relationship.
She... never felt an attraction to a person before. Never felt Cupid's arrow sting her chest and cause her to yearn. She had close calls, but could never imagine herself in an actual relationship with either of them.
Yet days in the timeless city still moved on, and the storms cradled the city in their razor-sharp embrace. She dreamed of the forest and of the hunt. She dreamed of those foggy memories of joining the hunting party. She dreamed that someone would understand that she didn't need a lover to be happy.
If this was a story told in the future, this is where the Monkey's paw would curl.
One day, she met a man in the armory and he was so kind and polite to her. No one in the city had seen their god's face, so she just assumed he was a noble or a guard. They talked for hours. He wanted to meet a person that people kept talking about. She would go silent as he mentioned those words, but in the end they became friends.
Yet... she was still troubled by her friends. It sucked have to sit through conversation after conversation about her future. How that having someone by her side would be good for her when she gets older! How having a spouse was a wonderful thing.
After many nights of pressure and debate, she asked out Decarabian. She wanted to experience this. Perhaps she was wrong! Perhaps she was just missing out! He was her friend, so it would be just like hanging out.
Before she knew it, people were happy for her. She was happy that they were happy. She was happy seeing Decarabian smile at her. But was she happy?
It felt like an item on a list being crossed out. An obligation she had to fulfill. She got what she asked, but...
...
Its fine! She is fine! Its...
its nothing.
don't worry about it.
(^ doodled them while writing this all down ehehe)
Years later, she and him were wed. Everyone was so happy. It felt like a dream walking down the aisle. The type of dream that you don't remember happening. The type that fogs the mind as you try to recall it. There are rings on her fingers now. It's a cold feeling, the metal against her skin. The ornaments in her hair are heavy. It's... its fine.
She is glad her husband feels so happy looking at her.
As lovers, they didn't really date. Neither of them found the point of all of it. They were basically roommates+ that slept in the same bed. Amos found out she loved to cuddle him as she slept. It's been so long since she had felt a loving embrace, and he had never felt a hug before.
She taught him a lot of things about romance, not quiet understanding him at times but they managed! She yearned to be held, and so Decarabian did! He was doing such a good job at this! He loved the ways she laughed. He loved her dedication to her crafts. He loved looking at her.
Yet the years went by, and soon Amos wasn't leaving the tower as often. Her friends had lives of their own, and she should have a life of her own. Despite having someone by her side, she never felt so isolated.
Before long, she was the only one left alive from that friend group. Decarabian put his arms around her waist, happy that his beloved was spending more time with him. She seemed sad.. so a hug should do the trick!
They never.. talked about this. They never talked about anything! They just existed with each other after a time, enjoying the other's presence but something was missing.
She felt safe. She felt a strong bond between her and Deca. She felt... happy? Complacent. It was nice being in the tower... but it was as dull as the grey sky.
It was only centuries of this limbo before she would meet a duo that would bring that spark back in her eyes.
So yeah tldr neither of them should have been dating each other in the first place but the norm that people who are close together should be lovers pushed them into a situation neither of them was prepared to tackle. Neither of them communicated their needs and thus suffering was caused. At the end of the day, they do care deeply for each other, and this only made it all much more painful. F in chat
Anyways links to my writings and a couple hcs pals and I have about the two
The Sun Post <- THE MAIN ONE TO READ
Bestie's commentary on it (^^^) that I rotate and I think everyone should see
Gifts
Expressions and Metaphors
Everything is fine!
Amos means Burden thing again <- This one is a lot more short story -ish
I think deca’s life could have turned out so much better if he wasn’t the leader of old mondstadt. like who looked at this man and went “he should be in politics”??
I think it would be interesting to see if he did what andrius, rex lapis and/or focalors did - something along the lines of him faking his death (or at least enough to convince celestia to make him unqualified for the status of “archon”) and so venti could recieve it instead. deca still wanted to keep his powers and status as a god, but didn’t want to be the bearer of the responsibilities of leading a nation anymore
(also, this could bring some interesting ideas about him creating a new identity for himself and trying to be friends with the rebel crew (they think they managed to successfully kill him))
Local man caught crying at the rebels table going "please take me back i'll do anything?"
"Anything?"
"Yes!!!"
The rebels stare at each other before NB laughs, "if you give your crown and position to Venti"
According to the genshin wiki, amos’s name translates to “burden” (or at least the hebrew version of the name). Any thoughts on the implications of this?
:)
oh i have thought about that a normal amount. Usually, I love tying it into my backstory of her c: An archer needs to be strong and I imagine her taking care of her community a lot. It was her burden to carry, now that she was an archer without prey. It didn't feel right to not do anything. It could never feel right. In her heart, she was an archer waiting to strike- but stagnation for too long was something she could never fully accept. She has carried many things in her lifetime, from secrets to fears.
A burden is a responsibility that one can not abandon; a pressure from external and/ or internal matters. Physical and metaphorical I do think that Amos acts from the heart. She is so full of love that it's the only thing that could really damage her. She will take on the world for the people she cares about. (And the realization of who she really should be taking care of happens much too late)
It's one of the reasons she fell for Deca. A person that could carry her burdens for her. But life without improvement was a different sort of stagnation. To eternally dream causes muscles to weaken and minds to soften. Surrounded by a sea of grey, were her eyes as sharp as they were before?
Ough this is giving me inspiration to write more of Amos's thought process when it comes to her relationships with people :p I wonder what I should nickname this one, either Violetgrass (Bluebells by another name) or Endymionis somnum dormire
.
Amos was a strong person. She hunted in the woods beyond the city, brining back meat to share with her friends and family. She did not ask for much. She did not have much. Amos the hunter was her name. Her last name? She never cared for it. Being a hunter was nice. Staying still for the perfect shot. Just for her patience to be rewarded in one quick swish.
Her parents taught her the way of the bow. They urged her to put it down as well. To settle with someone that could take care of her. One day her bones will tire and her wrists wouldn't be able to withstand the arduous tasks.
Amos was strong. She cared for her parents til their final breaths. She cleaned the now empty house by herself. She had many friends she loved to help. Any burder they had, she could take on.
She taught the children of her friends how to be an archer. She did her deliveries and as the rumors of war broke out she didn't worry. It was a matter between gods.
Then the winds began to storm and her dreams of green were no more. Her tasks were no more. Still those she helped so long ago took care of her.
She felt like a burden. A hunter without her prey. All she could do was sit by the armourys of old and keep up the upkeep. The other hunters and soilders have already gone home. No one to inspect at the city gates nor a chance to take their own somewhere else. The greenhouses at least gained new members.
Despite her many years of waiting, she felt restless. There must be something she could do! Much like a maid knight in the future, at a simple call she would be there in a second. "Amos, could you please help with this?" "Amos could you please help with that?" She loved to help. The belt on her side was no longer filled with arrows, only lists and letters.
Like the mint plants that weave through the concrete cracks, she survives. She always had.
Day and night held no meaning to her. Task after task. She could do it all. She could do anything.
Her face grimaces as she notes the bottom of her shoes needing to be glued back in. Her boots were getting old and she would need the support of a clan to purchase a new pair. Tailor Skyle still owed her that favor, she could ask her later.
Walking past the kids playing in the streets, she smiled. They waved at her before going back to play their game. They had made a show out of the information coming from the few outsiders. Words about the Wolf King's newest strategy or rumors of how bad this war across the world has been. The stone gate's leylines protected them from the wrath of geo, but the anemo in the air had to have a victor.
The tower in the center of the town was the only place safe from the storm. Its sturdy walls stayed quiet. Season by season the number of guards lessened as the few who found themselves of use to their king wished to conserve their coin.
The tailor greets her, holding the hand of her wife Riza. The baker had made her beloved a container of soup for lunch and had dropped by to see her. Amos smiled as the trio talked and Skyle did calculations.
"Red looks good on you," She could hear her friend mutter to her wife.
"Everything looks good on me." Riza smiled back. Her hand playing with the edges of a napkin. She was wearing a crimson bracelet on her hand. "Hey Amos, you like it? It's our anniversary present to each other."
The tailor sighed, "I can't believe Mr. Whisker would betray me like that. How dare a fluffy face like his tear my bracelet to shreds the moment I place mine down. Our perfect anniversary ruined by that adorable bastard. It's going to take so long to remake the pattern."
As she looked closely, she could see the slightest pattern of flowers. Roses if she remembered correctly.
Riza bent her arm to give Amos a closer look, "It's based on a tale from my side of the family. My father was eager to share the tale of the red string with his future daughter-in-law." She kissed her wife and Amos looked away.
Her eyes wandered as the two began to talk. She knew the guy they were telling her about, how he would gift her parchments and books from the lands south for the holidays. He was a nice guy, but she blanked on his name at the moment. Her eyes rested on the harp in the corner of the shop. She had one of those big ones back at home, but it was way dustier than this one. The feeling of string in her hands that needed to be plucked at the right moment... Yet before she could say anything, her friend was finished.
She thanked them and embraced the storm outside. The kids were gone, perhaps off to their homes for lessons or mealtime. Besides the regular rumble that surrounded the city, it was quiet. Trees and flags rustled like instruments and she made her way back to where she was staying.
Tomorrow was the same. So was the day after that. And the day after that.
Of course, there were new developments. The person that used to take care of horses fell in love with the butcher's son. One of the head clan's harpists was arrested for murdering her rival. She was invited to the wedding of one of the kids she used to carry on her shoulders. Still, she was.
She was.
Content.
Her eyes and body tired as she put on her best clothes. It was a humble affair, a family friend of the groom was one of the Lawrence and allowed them to use their home as the venue. Everyone was in pairs. Some people even more.
She wore a violetgrass in her hair, one of the rarer plants in the greenhouses' glebes. It costed her a pretty coin, but she couldn't help but splurge.
The event was nice. The couple spoke their vows and their kin held a toast to their happiness. Til death will they part.
She smiled. She laughed. She was so proud of her friend.
Someone tossed something into the air, and on instinct she caught it.
Roses so red and Celcilias so white. They smelled fresh, but the bouquet felt heavy in their hands. Crimson splashed against the bone-white and faded grass. Yet there are cheers around her. Smiles and jokes. "Oh, when is the wedding for Ms. Amos?" "It's a sign for you to settle down Amos dear!" "Want me to make a dress for you like I did them?"
She smiles. She laughs. She steps aside. "Come on you guys! It's their wedding! We should tease them more instead!". The violetgrass feels heavy on her head.
The beginning of the end starts with such good intentions.
"Ms. Amos!" one of the children squeaks. She had just finished fixing a post one of the animals knocked over before she felt the small hands of her neighbor's daughter on her dress. "Don't tell Lance but I wanna marry him when I grow up!"
"Is that so?" Amos pats her on the head. "What about that Charles boy that likes you? Or Amelia?"
Her face scrunches, "They are so borrring. And Amelia hasn't returned my ribbon yet! Lance is so cool! He can use a catalyst!" she pulls on the hem as the kid jumps up and down. "When are you getting married?"
"I don't plan on it." is her usual answer.
"That sounds lonely." was the usual reply.
Amos smiled, "I won't be lonely. I have you guys!"
Her neighbor's child frowned at her. At least this one was honest about their thoughts. "You sure? Cause I think that would be sucky."
The pale-haired lady lowered her eyes, "It's time for dinner. I think I saw your father get fowl today at the market. You should get going."
"Okay, Ms. Amos! Can I be flower-girl at your wedding?"
"Bye!" Amos says back.
She closes her eyes. The party a couple weeks ago was nice. Everyone was enjoying themselves and reminiscing on old times was lovely. There was another invite in her mail. An engagement announcement right next to it. The Bakers down the street were having their 2nd child. The Smiths were having triplets.
She grits her teeth as she makes her way back into her empty house. The dust was getting worse. She would need all day tomorrow to tidy the place up.
Yet instead, she chooses to fall face-first onto her bed. The blankets were in the same position they were when she woke up. The wood underneath her creaked as she squirmed. It would be nice to have someone in her arms. Have someone hold her. Have someone greet her when she comes home. It would be nice to have someone to share her burdens with. To greet with a hug. To whisper the vows to.
Yet the only one in her bed was herself. She was never an imaginative person, only able to build upon memories. What would it even be like? How would it even work? How do you even meet someone like that? How do you know this is the person you would devote yourself to? How would you know you were attracted to them? Was it like that Red String her friend told her about, a moth drawn to a flame?
She knew what a pretty person was! She had eyes! Yet. It was always surface-level. She could never imagine sharing a life with that pretty boy at the southern gate. Nor the scribe who doodles hearts on her receipts. She didn't know them. She felt no connection to them. That's what attraction was... right? A connection?
She gripped her pillow tightly.
She needed rest for tomorrow. She could think about this another time.
.
The storm was quiet today. It ebbed with her lord's mood, but today seemed different. Perhaps she had been imagining things. Sap from dying flowers needed to be crafted into glue. The arrows she'll never use again deserve their tail feathers.
Washing her hands, she tidied the armory's workspace. Clearing away the stuff on the desks was her first task- she wouldn't want the violetgrass's poison to stain.
The soft chime from the door was barely audible. Turning around, Amos noted the person a couple steps away from her had green eyes. No pigment could describe the hue, only barely comparable to the crystalflies or perhaps seelies. A cape on his right shoulder and an even longer cape on his back. Stormy grey hair and skin sickly pale.
Who the heck was this guy? He didn't have the features of any of the townspeople. Was he one of the wealthier people that lived in the tower? Even then she would have heard rumors of such a person. There were only a handful of people with silver hair and she was acquainted with all of them.
A foreigner would make sense, but only if he had arrived before the storm. The gold accents on his pauldrons and clothing seemed flawless- and he did not look like the man who knew about metal upkeep. Wait. Then why was he here in an armory?
"Good day." She greeted as calm as she could be. She was not worried. Surrounded by her old companions, she had spent hours wielding and testing each one of them. Sure she may not be the best at a claymore or a simple short sword, but any one of them would do in a battle.
"Hello," His voice was calm.
"Looking for something?" She asked. He placed his gloved hand on his side, his movements almost like that of a marionette.
"No."
"...Well okay then?" Amos tilted her head. His voice had an accent? That odd way of speaking the Mason family had, with some breathiness to the vowels. Time flowed once more as she tried to concentrate on her work, but this guy was still there. She kept looking back, like they were playing a game of Ochs am Berg.
"So stranger what's your name?" she asked, but got no reply. "... I see. A quiet one, are ya?" The arrows were done, time to clean up and then move to the shields.
"Yes. I am a quiet person." came the short response.
Socially it would be a good move to laugh it off, perhaps add some lip service, but this guy was giving her nothing to go off on. Maybe he did want to just sit and watch, a cat laying on a windowsill. Perhaps she was standing in his way. Or worse: it meant nothing at all.
"Cool." She muttered.
Somehow this became a habit. The two of them, never really introducing themselves to the other, would spend a portion of the afternoon in the armory together. Occasionally, the green-eyed man would comment on the abandoned armors and weapons. The unsaid question of why she continued to do this task on his lips. There was no need for anyone to fight. There were no fights. Everything was at peace. So why was she standing in a room ment for battle.
She never answered him. How could she put into words that this was her choice. Her old friends. Relics from the times she would have hunting partners side by side. Artifacts of campsites and friendships. It was illogical.
Yet, the silence was nice. The silence could make one pretend the other understood the other.
One day, he handed her a cloak that matched the one he wore. "It's cold." He spoke, his voice soft and gentle. As she placed it around her shoulders, she could not help but smile at its warmth. So light yet so strong. Not a single stitch was loose and her only complaint would be how the accents shimmered in the light. Still, she had hung up her bow- so stealth need not be an option.
Her mistake.
"Oh, is this a courting gift?" Came the questions. "Are you finally settling down?" they asked. "Who's the lucky person?"
She takes the cloak off.
But he looks at her with such concern. She does enjoy his company, whatever his name is. She likes talking to him. Sometimes she finds things throughout her day that makes her want to show him it.
She wonders what it would be like to meet outside the armory. She feels like she wants to impress him, to take him out of the city and show off her sick moves in action. She dreams of them patrolling the area together, maybe even becoming neighbors.
The cloak is in her hands now. It's so soft. Would his hand be this soft? Would his chest? She never thought of it before, but she wants to run her fingers through his hair. She wants to hold him and laugh with him. To see that sunny smile peak through his clouds.
Yet, she tells herself. They are barely friends. She barely knows his name. His story is his to tell, and while she had confessed the circumstances of her life... he has always been her green-eyed mystery.
It's so heavy, all of it. The mutterings. The attention. This dance was tiring. She wants to rest. To ignore the questions and stop acting happy. Amos just wants to be Amos. It's not like she can be Amos the archer. She.
She.
She hates this. Can't they all just get off her back! Go away! What she is up to is none of their business!
They are just concerned about you, her mind whispers. Her heart aches. She knows they just want what they think is best for her. That they belive that she will be lonely for the rest of her life. That's absurd! She has them! Do... do they not consider themselves as valuable to her as they are?
The rustle of the storm hums around her. Like a lullaby, she can feel it drowning out her thoughts. Her friend had been giving her more violetgrass once he learned they were of her favorite color. Purple. Such a lovely hue. Imports of those dyes cost a pretty coin, but these flowers lived near the stone gate. Useful towards pests and can even be made into some medicines. "Should you ever turn one inside out, you would win your true love!" A common saying among the hunters.
Win your true love. What a joke. If love was a game, she did not want to play. Was she supposed to bring an inverted flower wherever she went? Or was the game set by the time the contested meets their prize.
It was bad luck to bring this bouquet into her house. The neighbors will talk. And so will the neighbor's neighbors. But that's all they ever do. Talk talk nag nag. It's just some flowers! It's just a gift!
"Decarabian give me strength," She muttered. Not one to be a nun, she only knew the basics for events. "I do like the guy. But. I don't even know him. It would be so much simpler to learn about him. I could tell the Masons or the Peggs that his family doesn't like me! I would be free from their questions."
But what if she does like him. That this yearning to watch stars with him was what they would call love. That the urge to sit around and do nothing- to be by his side and vice versa... what if that was love.
Why did she feel so lonely after making this connection? Why does she want this? Why does she want to give into the pressure and sink into his arms? Have that heavy weight upon her heart to go away once and for all.
Despite her many years of being alone, she felt restless. Was this fear, love? Was the desperation to have someone to talk to when she came home, love? Was the yearning for him to wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks, love?
She felt like a burden. An archer without her bow.
Amos closed her eyes and pulled the cloak close. It still smelled of him. If there was anyone she would be safe sharing space with... she guessed he was okay.
