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He looked at her, anger still in his shimmering eyes. “What do you want? Not your family, not your duty, what do you want Emilia?”

She could only shake her head. “I’m not playing that game Levv.” Her eyes, aligning with his. “I have had to tell people who care about me this situation I am in. I have had to watch them react as you are. With anger, with disgust. They have repeated how wrong it is, as if I couldn’t understand unless they explained it to me. They have cursed at how archaic and ridiculous it is as a practice as if it could change anything.”

Her fingers curled, hands forming tight balls at her sides. “Their words hurt. I know it’s out of love but it stings. Each word cuts into my heart over and over, as I see that what is happening to me, is hurting the people I love. Then they ask, what do I want? As if to torture me with the very concept of choice.” She shook her head in defiance. “I’m not doing it anymore. I’ve accepted what has happened. That is going to have to be good enough for you too.”

The man looked down at his feet, “If that’s what you want Emilia… so be it.” Then he turned taking his leave, abruptly and completely.

{{ @levvnightfall // Gentle mentions of @galenthraece & @thesistersdastorio }}

#mister levv #heartbeats & heartbreak #rp snippet #Adapted from RP

She was left, as the wind from the harbor picked up and mussed her hair around her shoulders. She watched him walk away and wrapped her arms around herself before lowering to sit on the wooden bench. It was a hollow feeling. The recurring theme of feeling trapped had faded to this oddly pleasant numbness.

She didn’t want to be responsible for the feelings of others anymore. She didn’t want to apologize for what was happening to her. She didn’t want to try to explain in language that sounded like excuses, that she was fine. It felt misleading to say she had simply accepted the situation as it was. The truth was she was quite content in it. She had mused that the Light works in mysterious ways and yet had to battle for her own opinion to be valid against the claims she should be allowed one.

Still it was her cross to bare and she was doing well enough without anyone’s help. It seemed, in fact, help only caused her pause, slowed her down and held her back. It made her feel guilty for what she couldn’t help, ashamed for what she was content to accept. She was caught in a spiders web, every move tugging her in every direction.

Now, in the cold of the late night and alone in her pretty satin dress she closed her eyes. In her mind there was an endless horizon of calm seas. Pale ancient trees full of lush golden and fuschia leaves. The smell of a perpetual autumn and the thrum of historic battles still vibrating through the fine grains of sand. A handsome man with dark hair and sparkling emerald eyes pressed a lingering kiss to her lips and whispered to her that she was beautiful.

A tear slipped down her cheek as lashes fluttered open to be looking upon gray stones of Stormwind once more. She was allowed to be happy, despite the circumstance. She was allowed to accept. She was allowed to move on within the parameters she hadn’t chosen but learned to navigate. She wasn’t an object. She wasn’t a commodity. Despite what her Cousin may think, despite what close-minded traditions he may hold to, she knew who she was.

So did her darling Lord, Theron.