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THRITY-FIVE —— OH SIMPLE THING, WHERE HAVE YOU GONE?
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116 AC, Riverrun.
Morrigan's hands are shaking a little, fingers cramping together with the letter still clutched in her palm. Something inside her is cracking wide open and she isn't sure if she can hear it like thunder cracking across the sea or if she can feel it breaking wide open like spiderweb cracks over ice falling apart at last— but it is there and it is inevitable and it hurts and she cannot breathe around her lungs caving in.
She curls into herself as she sits, eyes burning, mouth open but no sound comes out, the scream stays silent. No voice to her agony, only hurt as the rotten, old wound in her chest bleeds, bleeds, bleeds.
Silent sobs wreck her body as she rests her forehead against her fists, like a grotesque prayer, and she closes her eyes, rocking herself into a comfort that she will never feel. THat has abandoned her years ago.
Loneliness is a lover, and Morrigan Tully knows him intimately. She knows him better than anything else.
Except, perhaps, for grief and regret, twin stars that have left a bitter taste on her tongue so long ago, she doesn't know what their absence tastes like. Doesn't remember a time where it was ever different.
Some women take lovers of flesh and sinew and bone.
Morrigan Tully took hers of bitter rot, years ago, making a home inside her bed.
———————
At first glance, Mya and Andrey Tully could have been twins. Morrigan has been told many times how much her daughter looks like her cousin. With the same sky blue eyes, and wild hair curling from their head, anyone can see the family resemblance at one glance. The only stark contrast is the time of a little over a year separating them in age. Where Mya can already run and move freely, curious about all she finds, Andrey has just learned to stagger after his cousins on his own two feet without aid.
