( a song for the reader's benefit )
Moonlight streams in from the window, casting a beam of silver across the room, softly illuminating the darkness. She is not sure how long ago she had awakened from a sound slumber. Her dreams have blended with the living night so perfectly that it is as if she had never dreamed at all. Or perhaps she is still dreaming yet?
The faint sound of soft silken fabrics rustling follows in her wake as she rises from bed, fingers trailing through her love's dark locks, neither catching on tangles nor rousing her from her own slumber, which she can sense has been restless as of late. As she crosses the room to descend the stairs, she passes her chilled hands idly over the stack of leather-bound tomes she had poured over during the daylight hours, searching for answers, respite, and memories. Yet, answers remained elusive, respite but fleeting, and memories... not wholly hers, thus, they could never bring her either the comfort or fear that comes from her own.
Her deep, dark gaze pierces through the lingering hours of night with ease as she crosses into large hallways, feet making not even a whisper of noise as she treads over stone, wood, and fabric. She finds herself wandering aimlessly for only a moment until her path detours to the left, toward the domed indoor garden situated in the northernmost part of the house. It is as if she is drawn by some unseen tether, not grating like an iron chain but, rather, soft but unyielding like a ribbon, tugging at the space between her ribs; insistent but gentle.
Within the garden is the tree, Tuile, branches swaying ever so slightly that it could be missed by those without the eyes to see them. But, she does not miss it and she knows when she has its attention.
The soft skin of her elegant and strong hands meets the roughness of bark and she observes the way her long fingers, pale like the rest of her, splay wide and press in; as if she could find her answers, respite, and memories in this way, as if she could see through the eyes of Tuile and gain understanding in perspective.
She casts her gaze upwards, through the branches and the glass panes of the dome up above her. The sky is not dark like in the deepest hours of night. It is a deep hue of sapphire shot through by the light of twinkling stars; one second white, one second green, one second red...
In a moment, just as fleeting as her respite, her multiple trains of careful thought are stopped. In a moment, the tether between her ribs comes undone. In a moment, she feels both joy and sorrow in equal measures and does not stop to wonder how that could possibly be. In a moment, she is neither a burden, nor a broken piece slowly becoming whole. She simply is. And, in that moment, that is more than enough.
Time stands still and then resumes again. Though she feels as if she is coming up for air after a long time spent underwater, her breathing is even and soft, barely echoing through the space, inhaling and exhaling in time with each barely noticeable sway of Tuile's branches. The space beneath her sternum feels hollow, but not painfully so. How could it when the beating of her heart within it seems to echo with the names of those she loves and those she has lost.
Her hands train down the bark of the tree until the hang by her sides once more. lets her gaze return from the starry sky, slowly but surely giving way to the earlier morning hours of the late watches. It passes over leaf and wood and down to the base where the roots are buried deep beneath the grassy earth on which she stands.
Her willow, curved frame bends then, dark, wavy hair spilling over her shoulders, obscuring her pale face, almost touching the ground, as she bows low to the ground.
There is strength to be found here. And, even though it may be like many other things - fleeting in the moment - she will take it with a grateful heart and use it while it lasts, never questioning why it was given or whether she is worthy of it at all. There is one she loves that will have need of it in the days to come. And, still one other who has come under their collective wings, who needs a steadfast heart just as much as she needs a refuge.
And, for a moment, that, too, is enough.
