Destrid Engagement (#6 Waterfire Saga)

ENGAGEMENT

Astrid was floating at the gate of the Karg, taking a break from the major task of bringing supplies that were at the Black Finn's camp to Cerulea, where they would be used to not only protect people, but to arm them, an idea that Astrid agreed with. How were people supposed to defend themselves without being armed? It was a controversy that had stared in not only Miromaran vs. Ondalinian culture, but also Qinnish, Atlantican, Freshwater, and Matalin. Looking over the expanse of sea reminded her of how she was no longer alone.

"What are you smiling at?" said a voice from behind her. It was a voice she knew well, that she jumped up at the sound of, that lit up her eyes more than the intonation of others. Desiderio Di Merrovingia, the current Regente of Miromara, had sneaked up on her. She turned abruptly, to find his eyes staring warmly into hers. A smile played on his face, and his eyes, an emerald green, winked and smiled in the dim light of the North Sea.

"Nothing. Just... everything." She said, giggling mildly at her own joke, that nobody else understood. And that was the thing. She wanted him to know all about her, all her inside jokes, secret handshakes with Becca (that were, consequently, ten minutes each), little weird things about her, that she had never wanted anyone else to know. She had never even thought about feeling this way, because it just wasn't the way it was in Ondalina. You had to hide yourself, your emotions, your tears, any weakness, and even when you thought there was nothing else for people to sneer at, hit you for, ambush you with snide remarks for, something new arose. You had to hide your heart.

"Well, you were smiling very radiantly, though perhaps I would find even a glare of yours radiant."

"Most people swim for their lives at the sight of them, so that's mildly touching, Des."

"You are mildly touching. Oh, my flirting skills need work don't they?"

"Mine need more," She said, trying to fight laughter back in her throat. She let a tiny bit out, just a small gasp of breath, but it was all Desiderio needed for his mouth to be on hers. A sweet prickle of excitement rose in her, and she smiled faintly against his lips. For a moment, the world started into slow motion, and it was just her and Des, life's lens focused inexplicably on just them. Just her hand placed gently on his chest, just her mouth resting softly against his. He leaned his forehead on hers, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her neck and back, and for a moment, there was emotion, expressed vulnerably in their eyes, written plainly on their faces.

Love.

Astrid drew in a breath, feeling excited and terrified at the same time, love, it was new and amazing, it lit up her icy eyes, that hadn't been lit for a long time. It flushed her cheeks flustered shades of pink and red, and gathered many questions from her friends, that, Astrid, as stubborn and closed off as she may be or seem, didn't mind. She thought about it often, and sometimes, she over thought, and in those moments she would convoca Thalassa, (bless her, she has listened to many, many goings-on involving Astrid and Desiderio, that she probably thinks she did NOT need to hear, but she was a great listener, and an even better advice-giver). Love threw a dizzy excitement into the way she talked, and the way she moved, and whatever fear she sometimes felt was gone the moment she laid eyes on him. She was herself in front of him, really, truly, herself, as she had never been before.

Love, it was terrifying. She and Becca chatted about this sometimes, Becca expressing her thoughts about Marco and their relationship many times to Astrid and the rest of the Six, who she trusted with her life. It was not that Astrid didn't think she could show these feelings. Feelings that told her to be wary, feelings that were almost too overwhelming to sort out, feelings that now even though she could sing, and was capable of magic, perhaps it was still a standing fact that no one wanted her. Feelings that horrified her, sometimes making her hide nervous tears into her pillow in the merls' bunker of the Karg. Tears of excitement and happiness, tears forced upon her by the hate of others, by her father's treacherous whip, but the snickers of people she once called friends, tears that spouted from the pure terror of denial in her heart.