Apr. 8th, 2016
It had been a long month for all. Days without, days spent missing, lingered longer, time dragging its feet though its steady progression of hours. The searching, the hoping, the praying, the worrying made the sun slower in the day and the stars dimmer at night.
And then, to lose. To lose was to make time stop. The world moved on, but one's own reckoning of it ceased.
It had been a few days since Hild had realized Bianca was gone. She texted her more often than most and Hild's messages sat unanswered. She had visited her home, knocking on the door to receive no invitation. She had come back, hoping that she had simply missed the other young woman, had timed her visit badly.
She had never lost someone like this before. Hereswith, Fursey, they had only left; great distance separated them, but nothing that letters following the threads of trade could not connect. Begu, Cian, both had left and come back to her. This wasn't even death. Was Bianca back in her home, back with her old friends who had missed her, her family who loved her, her life left abruptly? Or was it something else.
The nagging worry and confusion refused to budge. She yearned, not for the first time, for a loom to occupy her thoughts and fingers. Lacking that, she turned to her kitchen. Cooking had not been a duty expected of her back home, not given her rank, not as king's kin, but she knew it. She had spent hours watching bakers roll out dough, cooks choose spices, farmers pick their best crops. She had had to feed herself, had she not?
She wasn't a pie-maker like Bitty, but the so-called shepherd's pie was still warm in her arms, the buttery, savory scents drifting up to her nose as she made her way to Derek's. At his doorstep, she paused to knock and hope that she was not interrupting time with his lover.
That was still a thing she needed to adjust to.
And then, to lose. To lose was to make time stop. The world moved on, but one's own reckoning of it ceased.
It had been a few days since Hild had realized Bianca was gone. She texted her more often than most and Hild's messages sat unanswered. She had visited her home, knocking on the door to receive no invitation. She had come back, hoping that she had simply missed the other young woman, had timed her visit badly.
She had never lost someone like this before. Hereswith, Fursey, they had only left; great distance separated them, but nothing that letters following the threads of trade could not connect. Begu, Cian, both had left and come back to her. This wasn't even death. Was Bianca back in her home, back with her old friends who had missed her, her family who loved her, her life left abruptly? Or was it something else.
The nagging worry and confusion refused to budge. She yearned, not for the first time, for a loom to occupy her thoughts and fingers. Lacking that, she turned to her kitchen. Cooking had not been a duty expected of her back home, not given her rank, not as king's kin, but she knew it. She had spent hours watching bakers roll out dough, cooks choose spices, farmers pick their best crops. She had had to feed herself, had she not?
She wasn't a pie-maker like Bitty, but the so-called shepherd's pie was still warm in her arms, the buttery, savory scents drifting up to her nose as she made her way to Derek's. At his doorstep, she paused to knock and hope that she was not interrupting time with his lover.
That was still a thing she needed to adjust to.
mood: 
anxious
anxious
horny
inquisitive