Morgana Lupus had never been so shocked in her life as when she had stepped into her chamber and seen Ellyn, sitting quietly on the bed, smiling at her sister. She didn't look dead. In fact, she looked very much alive, with her black hair pulled back into a knot at the back of her neck, silver eyes gleaming happily at the sight of seeing her sister. Ellyn had always been the only one, apart from their father, who had looked like a true Pryte.
Morgana stared in total and utter shock, and in that moment everything she had ever thought about the Heirs, every ounce of resentment that had festered inside her head dissipated. To be honest, she'd never really thrown off the niggling doubt that Ellyn was dead, but here she was, sitting there in that white dress and smiling at her big sister. They Heirs had kept their word; Ellyn was alive and Morgana was eternally grateful.
"Morgana!" There was no flinging herself across the room from Ellyn. Oh no; always mature for a thirteen-year-old, she smiled brilliantly and made her way across the two metres separating them with dignity and decorum. The two girls hugged tightly. Morgana didn't want to let go.
"I...I thought..." She didn't want to get the words out, but they needed to be said. 'I thought I'd let you die'. Say the words and they'll be dead and buried, only ever visible in the treacherous fathoms of our minds. Ellyn frowned.
"Didn't the Heirs tell you I was alive?"
"Yes, but...it was hard coming to terms with the fact that I had to let someone else save you."
"Oh."
It was all you could say, really. Morgana tried to catch Ellyn's hand, but was rewarded with a glare and toss of the head for her efforts. Of course; Morgana had been the same. At thirteen, you were no longer a child to be coddled and sheltered. You weren't an adult, either, but in your little world you were as close to one as you needed to be and couldn't understand why anyone would treat you differently.
Ellyn led her towards the gardens. Usually, Morgana would not be in the habit of being led anywhere, unless the leader in question was bearing the royal seal, but it was her little sister. Concessions could be made. And besides, the gardens were a nice place to go. For somewhere so open, they were remarkably private, among the neatly trimmed hedges and carved topiary.
The garden was nice, and as they entered the open air Ellyn relented and let Morgana take her small hand in hers. It was warm and smooth, so unlike what it was usually, hardened from work; the Lupus family had been powerful once, but after that diastrous marriage they had been reduced to mere peasants, almost as lowly as the serfs they employed. Ellyn was used to hard work in the fields, and her hands were suprisingly moist when Morgana touched them. They obviously had very good handcream in Aurum's Seat.
A crisp breeze caressed Morgana's face as the two girls strolled through the maze garden, pointing out unusually shaped hedges or bushes. Imbued with the scent of roses, the air was cold and sharp, hitting her cheeks like daggers. Ellyn was also feeling the cold, face flushed as it was, but neither of them minded. Cold was a much better feeling than heat, though perhaps Morgana was biased; she'd once been told her heart was made of ice. Until a few weeks ago, she'd never had cause to disagree.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Ellyn had stopped and was looking at the sky. Clear blue, it was like a curtain spreading across the horizon, eneveloping all in view and hiding it from the watchful eyes of the puny humans treading the soil below. Clouds, puffed up like an overfed pig, floated aimlessly across that curtain, living their own inisignificant little cloud lives. Metaphorically, of course. Inanimate objects didn't really have lives.
Morgana nodded. It was an interesting vista, to be fair, beautiful even. Mesmerising, certainly. You could stand there and look at it forever, following the clouds as their shapes shifted and their lives changed, and their stories metamorphosed into something entirely different. Everchanging, really, until they disappeared. It was like a tapestry, really; each thread a life, distinct until it was woven fully into the finished picture.
"How are you, Ellyn?" Forgiveable question, really. The girl was looking remarkably good for someone who'd just been washed down a river. Okay, so she'd been saved, but...
"Me? Oh, I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about, Morgana. Emotionally one can be so different from how they are physically."
"Oh, me? Why are you asking?"
"Because you thought you saw your sister drown because you let her, and you've only just started to believe that it's true she's not dead, maybe?"
There was a sad smile flitting across Ellyn's face, and just like the twilight before dark it was gone as soon as Morgana looked.
"Fair enough, " she conceded. "I'm well. Better now."
"Ah, so it's not true what they say? Morgana Lupus, the half-Vilxen with a heart of ice. Ellyn, her little sister, so infatuated that she'll freeze her heart just to get her big sister's attention. But it hurt, didn't it? It hurt when you let me go. You have a heart Morgana. It's just...in need of a bit of thawing,"
Morgana laughed, but inside she was cold. Ellyn, evidently, had not forgiven and forgotten that night. Forgiven, maybe. But not forgotten. And really, could one ever forgive without forgetting what it was they needed to let go?