“You’re Soul Mates?” she’s used to being asked, whenever it slips around someone new, “What’s it like?”
Terra’s never sure how to describe it. Sometimes it’s like a string attached to her heart - pulling her forwards, leading her to him. Others it’s a whisper of warmth, or reassurance, once they’ve reconciled - a thrill through her spine at his touch, or a burst of sparks at a glance.
Occasionally - like when they’d parted on bad terms, in the Shiverpeaks - it’s an ache, deep and hollow, as though her heart had been mourning the distance and harsh words.
“It’s hard to describe.” is usually her answer, because how do you describe that, properly, to someone who doesn’t have a Soul Mark? They’re not rare, per say, but nor are they common - she knows several people with them, but more without.
“What if you weren’t Soul Mates, though?”
“Would you still love him?”
She thinks of the first time they’d met, when his face had lit with relief at her offer of help.
Of their Journeys through the Maguuma, when he’d stood by her side and trusted her, no matter Mordremoth’s meddling - letting her mourn Trahearn when he himself needed to mourn.
She thinks of the way he’d protected she and the others against falling rocks, despite any lingering anger - and the way he kept the children of Atholma safe from the Inquest’s attack.
She thinks of his laugh, and his smile, and the peace she feels when he’s near, how content she is when he’s at her side - how safe she feels in his arms.
And the answer is simple.
“Of course I would.” Terra says, smiling softly, “Because he’s Braham.”
[I don’t know where this came from but clearly the muses wanted fluff so. Have some fluff that fits TP canon.]
