Running from the Daylight {Annalise}

[Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov]

    Nikolai was only seven years old when his nursemaid had disappeared. He had loved that woman, almost as much as he loved his own mother. But she had been growing sick and frail and sad and then she was gone. Then he was ten, and his father had brought in a lovely young tutor to teach him reading and writing. By this age, he had begun to realize things about his father that he didn’t quite like. He’d watched his father talk to other women in a manner that he never did with his mother, standing too close, touching too much.

    This tutor had been very kind, and very quiet, and she was very good at what she did. One day he came into the room and waited. He waited for her for an hour until she came in, flushed, tearstreaked, and disheveled, and announced that there would be no class today. Nikolai left. The next day she was back to normal, though she conducted herself with a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. She looked both ways when entering a corridor, and barely looked at his father when he spoke to her. And then the same symptoms showed up and then she was gone.

    It took Nikolai several years to put the pieces together. It took several years for him to realize what type of person his father was, exactly. Several years for him to realize that his father’s actions had had consequences. Living ones. That he was not an only child after all. But it was now, that he had found a reason to change, that he swore to himself he would not become his father. He would be better. Maybe that was why he’d pursued the topic of illegitimacy, even though the cook was drunk out of her mind. Maybe that was why he’d put on a charming smile for the scullion girls and asked them for names. Maybe that was why he’d come to Iris Academy. Why he was standing in front of the door to the Combat Instructor’s office, hoping she didn’t behead him for disturbing her. It was the reason he knocked on the door. His half sister’s door. Annalise Luce.

TAGS: Annalise Lorelai Luce

★fai

You and I sip the poison from the same vine.

[Annalise Lorelai Luce]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","Aster"]

[break]

Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov

348 words

Music

she's so iconic

[break][break]

I spent so long in a dark night [break]



But now we see daylight

[break]


Analise heard a knock at her door and took a moment to blink at the door. She had a sign that told people not to knock. It wasn't like she could tell them to come in. So she had a little hole below the knocker when a ladybug was meant to sit. Not a real ladybug. An enchanted ladybug. It was green when you could come in, blue when she was in but needed quiet, and purple when she was out. The sign explained all of that. Unless the ladybug had somehow flown away-- or Heqet tried to eat it again.... [break][break]

Analise glared at her frog who was perched on top of her bottle. "I'm going to lock you in your bottle again. she signed at her frog. Heqet would probably have rolled her eyes at her if she was not a frog, but alas, she was. Frog could technically roll their eyes, but Heqet preferred to convey her disdain through glaring. [break][break]

Analise sighed. They would probably need all the disdain they could get. The students seemed to have increasingly ridiculous questions. Or maybe she had just gotten more cynical. Either way. She stood up and opened the door. [break][break]

And then she saw who it was. Definitely not a student. Too old. She didn't recognize him, and she always remembered faces. But then she met his eyes, and she froze, because those weren't his eyes, those were her eyes-- blue, almost violet, ever-shifting. [break][break]

Analise blinked once and then closed the door. She turned around and walked back to her desk and sat down. She would have been pleased if he just left, but she didn't lock her door. He could come in if he wanted.  [break][break]

She picked up a piece of parchment and scratched out a message. "I thought I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with the East Court." She slid the message across the desk from her and waited to see if he would come in. She could have used any sort of glamour to demonstrate the message, but simple was best. No smokescreens.  [break][break]



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[Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov]

    Nikolai peered at the door curiously. He heard footsteps approach, and then it opened. He saw her face, and it was different than his, but not in the eyes. Where his skin was golden and tanned, hers was pale and milky, like most of the fae’s. Where her hair was jet black, almost like ebony, his was like gold, made more bright by the sun. But it was her eyes. Watercolor eyes, just like his. Even if the shape was different from his, there was no mistaking that color. The brightest blue an eye could possibly be, even for a faerie. And then the eyes blinked, and then they were gone, hidden behind the door which had been closed with a superhuman speed. He heard her footsteps recede, heard the flutter of parchment and the scritch-scratch sound of someone writing. And then nothing.

    Nikolai stood, confounded, wondering what exactly he was expected to do now. Well, she hadn’t told him to go away, so maybe he just needed to go in himself? What an odd expectation to have. He knocked again, and turned the knob, peeking in his head. There she was, sitting behind her desk. His sister. Well, half-sister, if he’d guessed right, but those were just technicalities. “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to leave or not. But in my defense, the door wasn’t locked,” he explained nervously. “If you ever get tired of me don’t be afraid to kick me out. This is your office after all.” Nikolai chuckled awkwardly. Was he rambling? Why was this so weird? He’d never had a sibling before, and the idea of having many was just so strange. Strange but exciting, he had to admit.

    He approached the dark wooden desk, trying to see the piece of parchment. Analise was oddly silent as she stared at him. In fact, everything about her was odd. There was a small green frog perched on a bottle on the desk, and there had been a sign about some sort of ladybug on the door. The fact that she hadn’t said one word to him should have been unsettling, but it only intrigued him. Was she mute or something? Nikolai reached for the parchment, lifting it up to decipher the flowy script. He peered at her over the paper. “Believe me, if I had the choice I’d want nothing to do with the East Court either.” He grinned at her. Though his initial reaction was to make a joke, he was confused, to say the least. “But you made it clear? Not to me.” Nikolai placed the paper back onto the desk for her. “Do you know who I am?” It was funny, he realized. How many times had he asked the question to some poor butler or servant, entitlement and privilege radiating off of him? Too many. And now he asked it, of a sister he never even knew he had, out of pure curiosity. He really was changing, wasn’t he?

TAGS: Annalise Lorelai Luce

★fai

You and I sip the poison from the same vine.

[Annalise Lorelai Luce]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","Aster"]

[break]

Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov

442 words

Music

she's so iconic

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I spent so long in a dark night [break]



But now we see daylight

[break]


Annalise stared back at him, blank faced. She technically had no idea how old he was. But she chose to look down on people anyway until they gave her a reason not to. Heqet didn't move. That was a good sign. If he was a real issue, Heqet would have shot him by now. Analise had gotten quite good at administering the antidote. Heqet always acted betrayed when she did, like she should have just let them die. But that could have become a problem pretty quickly. Killing the fae was no small thing. [break][break]

"I am not afraid of you in any respect." She wrote out in smoke. Just a puff. She blew out once, and there were the words. She had gotten better at glamours than most soldiers were. But Annalise wasn't a soldier. She was something better. She was a dancer. [break][break]

She wondered if she should know who he was. She guessed some things. East court from the eyes. Young from the nerves. Anything else she didn't know. She had been to the North and drawn bows strung from ice. She had been to the South and blinded her enemies with sand. She had been to the West and wielded swords that were forged over hundreds of years and could shatter any other weapon. She had been to the Undersea, and now she was one of the few land fae who carried their steel. She had never been East. [break][break]

She had heard of the East Court. Nights of revelry, drinking. Dramatics and fireworks. Glitz and glitter. She was so stern, so serious. It was strange to think that was where her mother might have been from. But of course, Annalise already knew her parents. The ones that mattered. The ones that raised her. [break][break]

They had been serious, both of them. They never made her feel silly or small. Now she didn't let anyone else, either. They had taught her to be strong and to be brave. They taught her to fight for what mattered and to have dignity about what didn't. Her mother taught her to dance. They were the ones that mattered. [break][break]

The question that lay before her was if this boy would come to matter, or if he would pass away like all the glitter that she had avoided. If he was made of substance or sunlight alone. Only time would tell, for the frog was giving her no answers.  [break][break]

"Should I?" She spelled out each word, slowly at first, then faster and faster. "You are from the East court. You think you are important. You are here because of my father." She shrugged. "I know enough." [break][break]

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[Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov]

    Nikolai watched her write out in the smoke. For a combat instructor, she was quite skilled at glamours. He had to admit, he was impressed. “Good,” he responded. “That’s great, actually. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. That wasn’t the reason why I came here.” He wondered if her defensiveness was natural, part of her character. It was very different to have been born defensive and then grow to be defensive out of necessity. Had Analise been taught to be this way, or was it some gene she’d inherited from her father that Nikolai hadn’t? Their father, he corrected himself. That man that he was so desperately trying to separate himself from. He was the link that was connecting the two today. For what reason, he had yet to figure out.

    He’d heard about the Combat instructor before when the whispers of bastard children had started floating around the palace. The changeling dancer, they’d said, was dangerous and graceful. She could kill him, he realized, with a flick of her wrist. And she could probably dispose of him faster than she’d killed him, too. He wondered what it was like, to live as a changeling. Technically, she didn’t belong to any Court, despite her parentage. It was such an odd thought for Nikolai. To never belong to a Court, to always be wandering. Some were meant for it though. Nikolai didn’t think he was one of those. His connection to his Court was something he’d always struggled with. He was proud of where he was from, though it was the place that had shackled him with a title. Shackled him with a couple of words that came before his name.

    He was grateful for all that he had, but he supposed he should really be blaming his blood. Why was it that he had been put under the pressure of royal etiquette and tutors but Analise hadn’t? She wasn’t tainted, just because her mother wasn’t the Queen. If Rex had really wanted, he could’ve married her mother or kept her as a consort. Then she wouldn’t have been switched, because her very existence wouldn’t have been a risk. “I’ll take that as a no,” he replied. “You are correct in only two of those statements. I am of the East Court, and I am here because of… our parentage.” But did Nikolai think he was important? Not at all. He knew it. It was a fact that was presented with each noble’s bow, with every coin in his coffers. This world considered him important, as much as he might feel like he didn’t deserve all of the pomp. He inclined his head in a small bow as he began, “I am here because of our father. I am Crown Prince Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov, heir to the throne of the East Court. And you, Analise Luce, are my half-sister. One of, what I fear, may be many.”

TAGS: Annalise Lorelai Luce

★fai

You and I sip the poison from the same vine.

[Annalise Lorelai Luce]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","Aster"]

[break]

Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov

508 words

Music

she's so iconic

[break][break]

I spent so long in a dark night [break]



But now we see daylight

[break]


Annalise watch the smoke dissipate in front of him, throwing him into haze. Sunlight slanted through the window onto her face. She did not squint. She was used to the brightness. [break][break]

Her office always looked chaotic. Bottles on the table and pictures tacked to the inside of drawers. Books everywhere. Mortal books on war and faerie books on mortals. The most important thing in her office were her pointe shoes on a shelf behind her. They weren't practical. She rarely wore them. But she had worn those shoes in Paris on her opening night as prima ballerina, and her mother was in the crowd. Her father was in the wings. They gave her flowers. The flowers were now pressed into the handle of her broadsword.  [break][break]


Whatever father he was talking about, it wasn't hers. [break][break]


"I'm afraid you're incorrect."   she wrote. "My mother's name is Caroline Luce. My father's name is Gabriel. They raised me. My mother taught me to dance and my father taught me to speak. Whatever father you are talking about has no bearing on me." [break][break]


She knew what he was saying. She wasn't naive. But she needed him to understand what she was saying. She would not be defined by any fae that she never met. No father that didn't want her or mother who gave her up. She didn't need to know about them and she didn't need apologies. This boy before her had nothing to give her but he also owed her nothing. She wanted space to be her own person. To be her father's daughter. To be defined by the legacy she chose, not one imposed upon her. [break][break]



"And even if you are right." she continued, knowing that he would continue to argue the point either way, "What do you propose? I have never shown any interest in the east court. Are you so arrogant to think that you can change that? Is your father so proud to think he should matter to me." This was a two-sided coin. This boy owed her nothing, but she owed him nothing. She owed nothing to anyone in the east court. Her parents were long dead and buried, their mortal bones growing cold. She was their legacy, their breaking dawn, and her life was a garden of possibilities. She would honor them every day. Annalise hadn't been alive long for a fae, but she had been alive long enough to know to only bother with the people that wanted her. [break][break]


Her father taught her to speak in the silence. He taught her that actions spoke louder than words. He taught her that everything had an echo, and in that echo was her true power. He taught her to focus on her legacy first. [break][break]

Those pointe shoes were her legacy. If she died tomorrow she would have done everything she had wanted. Could this supposedly important king say the same? All his legacy could ever be was a crown that would crumble and a daughter that didn't want him. Legacy was power.  Power she wouldn't give him.  [break][break]
 

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[Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov]

    What had Nikolai expected from her? Familial camaraderie? Acceptance? The understanding that he wasn’t the same boy that the Courts still thought he was? He couldn’t help but feel let down, but it was his own fault. Nobody had told him to get excited about having a sibling, and even though he’d refused to admit it to himself, excitement was exactly what he’d felt upon discovering Analise’s existence. He saw the understanding in her eyes and knew exactly what she was saying when she denied her biological parentage. Her biological brother. He bowed his head in apology, quickly returning to his princely mannerisms. “I understand.” I understand that you do not want anything to do with me because you do not know that I am not what this world has thought me to be.

    It was interesting, he realized, how they were both trying to escape their father in their own way. Nikolai watched the plumes of smoke dissipate in front of him, forming new words. The dread that had formed in his stomach expanded even further. Her words were brash and defensive. Then again, she didn’t teach combat for no reason. “My father did not send me here. As far as I know, he does not know you exist. He certainly doesn’t know you exist because of him. I am here of my own volition, my own curiosity.” Had he expected to change her mind? The true answer was no. The prince’s answer was yes.

    “My father will not always be king.” He hoped she wouldn’t read to far into that. It was the truth, and he could say nothing but that. “I suppose I came to visit you because I wanted you to know that you will always be welcome in the East Court when I am king.” It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. Nikolai had come to relay that message, even if it wasn’t the main purpose for his visit. “My father should not matter to you. I agree with you on that.” He paused debating whether he should say what was on his mind. “All I ask of you is that you consider whether you will let me matter to you.”

TAGS: Annalise Lorelai Luce

★fai

You and I sip the poison from the same vine.

[Annalise Lorelai Luce]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","Aster"]

[break]

Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov

596 words

Music

she's so iconic

[break][break]

I spent so long in a dark night [break]



But now we see daylight

[break]


He was a child. This was certainly obvious. But it almost felt tragic, like the hero before he made a choice that burned everything down. Yet the way he wilted like a withered flower made her pause. She was not gentle. She hadn’t been crafted for kindness. But she wasn’t cruel. She was just honest. [break][break]


“What did you expect?” She added, trying to convey gentleness in the font of the words. “You say there are more. Do you think they will take any more kindly to you? You are the one with the bloodright. Some who care more than I do will hold that against you.” [break][break]


She found it ironic. She certainly didn’t want any birthright– not one stained in blood, not anything else. But he was a child, with childlike naivete, who thought that everything could be fixed. [break][break]


“Having siblings won’t make him less awful,” she reminded him. “It might make him more so.” Nothing could fix the rift of parents who didn’t care. No amount of other siblings would be a proper balm to that. She had seen so many students fall apart because of parents who never wanted them. She had never found a cure. [break][break]


He wanted to matter to her. That wasn’t a balm either. That was just childlike hoping. [break][break]


“That” she responded almost wryly, “is something to be earned. Mattering is like respect. I don’t give it to everyone. I do not have the energy.” [break][break]


“And curiosity killed the cat.” she added. He had told her his purpose, he had told her his history. He had told her more than what most people offered in a year. She mattered to him, but he didn’t matter to her. She wondered at why blood were so important to these people. She had wondered at it before. [break][break]


These people. They weren’t her countrymen or her family. She knew, without a doubt, that if she had been the child she was in the East Court, if she had been claimed and reared like any noble girl, she wouldn’t have survived it. She was a quiet soul, a mysterious soul, a tortured soul. She wasn’t suited for court life, for intrigue, for drinking bile. She was a silent child, a curious child, and it was only the space to be an oddity that brought her to where she was today. [break][break]


But even now in faerie, she was an oddity among oddities. There were quiet faeries, watchful faeries, secluded faeries, but few were so stern or so serious. And while nothing lasted forever, enough time could be close enough to eternity. [break][break]


“Your father is immortal,” she reminded him, tilting her head, widening her eyes, not blinking. He could not lie. If she asked him outright, he would have to answer. “Are you asking me to kill him? I would.” Was that treason? No. She had never sworn anything to his court. She liked to keep her options open. She spoke her mind even when she shouldn’t and said nothing when it might be better to speak up. [break][break]


She wanted him to understand that it was not out of fear that she avoided the High Court. It was disdain. If he didn’t know that she existed, it was only because either he took so many paramours that he could not keep track, or, what she suspected, that her mother was afraid of him. Annalise had not found anyone worthy of being afraid of yet. Not that she thought that her so-called brother would necessarily be a better king, but driving her knife into his throat would certainly bring her satisfaction.

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[Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov]

    Nikolai had been naive. He realized that now. But it wasn’t his fault, not really. He’d been raised to expect kindness and respect from everyone, and though kindness and respect were things that any person should expect from anyone they come across, the kindness and respect that Nikolai was treated with did not come of free will. He was the Golden Boy of the East Court. The baby. He’d run around and cause mischief but those in charge of him, his guards, his maids, they had no choice but to love him for it. He’d never truly thought about it, but now he knew it had to have been fear of his father that drove them to treat his son so well.

    How foolish of him, to not realize that he was the legacy of the father whom they must hate. How foolish of him, not to see that they would have to hate him too. But Analise had changed her tone now, no longer as harsh as she had been before. Could she see that it wasn’t his fault? “I understand that now. But I did not wish to connect with you, or will I wish to connect with the others, simply to bolster my political reputation. I truly only wanted to know you.” The fae were a people of tricky minds and even trickier relationships. Whatever relationship he’d expected to come from this meeting was not one of happiness and sunshine, of lounging in fields of flowers. He’d known it couldn’t be that. It would be jagged, difficult, possibly even secret. By knowing his half-siblings, he was certainly putting them in danger of his father. But his father wouldn’t be king forever.

    “I know it makes him worse, believe me. But if I can try to do even this, to make an attempt at atoning for his sins, maybe it will make me stop hating myself for being the lucky one. Fate picked me to be my father’s heir, and every day after finding out that I had siblings, I couldn’t help but wonder why.” The smoke swirling around them distorted Analise’s face, those violet eyes the only clear feature across from him. It took him back to all the nights he spent on the roof, under the stars, with a cigarette between his lips, wondering why it was him who was the special one. He certainly was not perfect. “Then let me earn it,” he murmured. He didn’t want to sound like he was begging, but he certainly felt like it. “Let me earn your respect. Let me earn the right to matter to you.”

    He watched as his sister’s intrigue grew. He was not asking her to kill his father, but if she wanted to, well, Nikolai wouldn’t stop her. Rex was already dying. “Even immortals do not last forever. All things fade eventually.” He paused, thinking of his father’s wracking coughs, the physician who refused to tell him anything, and his mother, who looked like she felt every pain of his father’s mysterious illness. The circumstances were certainly suspicious, but he was not going to tell her about them. He didn’t understand why, maybe because he didn’t want his suspicions to be wrong. Nikolai would not be made foolish again. He would simply have to wait.

TAGS: Annalise Lorelai Luce

★fai

You and I sip the poison from the same vine.

[Annalise Lorelai Luce]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","Aster"]

[break]

Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov

596 words

Music

Dorian Northbow {mentioned}

[break][break]

I spent so long in a dark night [break]



But now we see daylight

[break]

Annalise studied him. "I have killed before," she wrote bluntly. "Everything must end, and I find it quite advantageous to be the one to end it. Perhaps this is a skill you could learn,"


[break][break]
Annalise didn't worry about fate or luck. Dorian had been brought to her and that was more than enough. He was her cool stream on a warm day. He was her peace. She was not good at peace, but she would end the world for him to have it. There would be no wars if there was nothing left to fight over. She would do it for him. Not much mattered to her. He did. Whether or not luck was involved, well, if it was, she was the lucky one. And if it wasn't, then she had done something to deserve this. She could not think of a good better than him.


[break][break]
"You are not the only lucky one," she stated, idly twisting a ring around her right middle finger. It was strung out of forget-me-nots. It was a gift. The flowers would never fade. In the same way, all fae were immortal. They would not fade either, so long as they were well-preserved. She didn't like to think of herself as fragile as a flower, but they were not so different either. "Immortality and invincibility are not interchangeable. We all have our challenges." The proof of a person was what they made of those difficulties. She had to concede that he was handling this the best way he knew how. She had to concede that it was unlikely that anyone had showed him anything better.


[break][break]
She wondered who she would be if she didn't know how to handle challenges because she had never had any. She wondered who she would be if her words were the same as everyone else's, if she didn't see everything in swooping fonts and glittering colors. She did not think she would better. "And you ought to allow yourself to not only be monochrome," she continued, tilting her head, narrowing her eyes. In a way, it was a response to his words on mattering. No one could be gilded forever. If everything faded and everyone struggled, then the importance of mattering, the importance of anything, was merely in the struggle.


[break][break]
No, they were not the same. Annalise's doctrine was one of struggle, one of survival, one of striving for peace and reaching goals. Nikolai expected everything to be perfect because he had been raised seemingly perfected. Annalise preferred a life that was real and hard over one perfected and plotted. She was not sorry.


[break][break]
He was looking past her. She rapped his knuckles with the back of her hand. "Focus,"  she demanded, moving on from her disdain. He had things to learn and she would teach them to him. "You want to matter, she said. "But you can't matter if nothing matters to you. What do you want?"  


[break][break]
Annalise had known what she wanted forever. She had wanted to dance at the Paris opera. She had wanted to be the greatest warrior in the land. She had wanted Dorian. She got what she wanted. She shed everything else. People wondered why she didn't take time to practice her speech, why she didn't have many hobbies. She didn't see why it mattered. She was not broken or flawed for being different. She was dedicated. She was unique. And being unique in her methods had left her unique in her success. After all of it, she was not sorry. 

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[Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov]

    Nikolai looked back into Analise’s scrutinous eyes. The same color as his. As his father’s. Being confronted with the death of his father put everything into a perspective that made him feel uncomfortably exposed. If his father was killed, he would ascend to the throne of the East Court. Was he ready for that? He’d been born and raised to be the next Duke, but any textbook knowledge of what a Duke was supposed to do had seemed to disappear from his mind. It wasn’t his priority anymore. Wasn’t that risky for the East Court? He could not be a careless leader, but he would not be a terrifying one either. Talking to Analise had brought a lot of things into a new perspective, and he felt like a child next to her wisdom.

    “I’m not going to kill my father.” He hadn’t wanted to tell her of his suspicions, but maybe he should. Maybe she would benefit from the information. He wasn’t going to commit patricide, but she could. Nikolai froze for a second. Was he really contemplating patricide like it was nothing? He didn’t love his father, and his father didn’t love him. The only thing his father loved was power, and he had no shortage of that. What good would it do to depose him? He was a terrible person, and Nikolai had come to know that he treated everyone terribly, especially vulnerable young women. Did he not deserve death for the crimes he’d committed? No one would miss him. The only good thing he gave to the world was stability in the East Court. Given what had happened in the High Court, he shuddered to think what would happen if he tried to rise to the throne.

    He wasn’t ready to rule, and it was obvious. But there were men amongst his father’s advisors who thought Nikolai was not, if he ever would be, fit to rule. He was brought back from his reverie by the sharp tap of her hand against his. There was a surprising amount of force behind a hand that looked so dainty. She looked like a dancer. He imagined she was graceful in combat. “Are you lucky?” he asked, pensive. “You would be lucky if you killed my father, but then you would also have a right to sit on the throne.” She already did have a right to sit on the throne, being his daughter and all, but she would not acknowledge him as having any relation to her, even if she differentiated between her birth parents and her adoptive ones. Would she ever acknowledge him as her brother? Was that what he wanted?

    What did he want? It was a good question, and he could tell by now how great of a teacher she must be. He wanted Talia. He wanted peace and comfort and stability. He wanted connection. After years of false connections, and pretend love that was really only lust, he wanted true connection. Was that why he’d wanted to meet her? Because he wanted some sort of connection with her? Yes, he found himself thinking. He’d thought of every pre-conceived notion of siblinghood and ran for it, not thinking about the other person involved. He was reckless, presumptuous. But wasn’t it worse to be hesitant? “I want many things,” he responded. “I want connection. I do not care for power.”

TAGS: Annalise Lorelai Luce

★fai

You and I sip the poison from the same vine.

[Annalise Lorelai Luce]

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Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov

465 words

Music

Dorian Northbow {mentioned}

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I spent so long in a dark night [break]



But now we see daylight

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So he refused to kill his father. Irksome, but not unexpected. “I am not asking you to do it,” she pointed out. “Simply say the word.” She still doubted he would. Saying something should be done was not exactly the same as doing it, but it was close.


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Annalise wanted to laugh, but that seemed to be cruel. She did not laugh. She did smile. What a curious question. “Of course I’m lucky,” she wrote back. She had Dorian. She had her ring. She had her home. She had buried her parents. She had seen them safely through their whole life. She had been a ballerina. None of that had been luck.


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“I am lucky because I have the love of my life, and though some may argue fate brought him to me, I truly don’t care.” She had Dorian. He was here and he was hers. That was enough. “I am not lucky because I have so many other things. Those things I fought for.” She wondered what he wanted. She wondered which of those he wanted enough to fight for. Maybe none of them. Maybe that was his problem.



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She did not know who she would be without her goals and fights and doctrines. Not as fierce. Not as determined. She did not care about being the best. She cared deeply about doing the journey well. She was often misunderstood or misconstrued. She could do little about that. A productive journey was better than public opinion. She had been loved. She was still loved yet. That was enough.
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He did not have enough. His dissatisfaction seemed to roll off of him in waves. She did not know enough about him to decide if that was endearing or exhausting. She knew he was getting things mixed up again.


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“Why does killing your father make me lucky?” she queried. “Why does having a throne do that either? If I killed your father, it would be intentional. It would not be luck. And plenty of people have a throne and do not want it. I do not think it would make me lucky. I think I would hate it."

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He could have the throne, and the balls, and the expectations and the court life. He could keep it. She did not want it. She was satisfied. That made her lucky, not some crown.
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“Perhaps power is not for you,” she said. “But then again, who else is there?” She was not so naive or close minded to think that only those of noble blood could rule. But if he did not rule, he would need a successor. There must be some order to it, even if the order was, at times, nonsensical. “Connection is good. Being loved is better.” She had tried both. She would know.


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