Orys x Argella #6 for the meme thing! (i love your fiiiiics!!!)
things you said under the stars and in the grass
since she’d been a girl, the sound of the sea is soothing. even in storms when the wind whistles and waves crash, you can always count in it rolling in the background, constant and strong. it sounds tonight as it has always sounded, like the breath of her mother as she falls asleep.
“i do not mean to take your home from you,” he had said before he’d gone inside. “i am sure i will not be here often. i will be serving my king. you are and ever shall be lady of this castle and lady of this region, second only to me.”
i was supposed to be second to no one, she thinks bitterly. i was to be queen.
the thing she likes least about her new lord husband is just how likable he is. her men–such as she could call them hers, they who had betrayed her–had taken fast to him. he is charming and intelligent and polite. does he ever anger? does he ever shout?
ours is the fury. he’d taken those words from her as well, but, she thought, he did not know what fury was. she’d never once seen him angry, and one had to balance the rage of the storms off shipbreaker’s bay with one’s own rage. one could not be cowed by the world around them.
i will not be cowed, she thinks. she’d thought it too as she’d struggled in chains that were cold and rough against her skin. but he does not seek to cow her, her husband. “i do not mean to take your home from you,” and yet he had, for this place is not the same with him here. people look at her differently now that they’ve seen her laid low. they know that she is second to him, though hers is the fury and his is the polite smile.
it angers her. give her someone to fight, someone to storm against, to scream her rage at, to tear apart as the shipbreaker’s bay tears away ships.
but that is not her lord husband. he is something else altogether, and so nothing is the same, and only the tide is constant.
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