finalflight | DEDICATED HENRATURRA POST;

[ wiggle wiggle. she sips her tea, gazes sidelong at the slumbering mushroom. she doesn't know where the others have gone. ]

I suppose it is due time I reenter society...

[They could be playing elsewhere. Maybe napping, too. Maybe looking for a card deck they shouldn't be touching. The possibilities are endless.]

With me at your side.

[Proudly, because he'd love to be the one seen arm-in-arm with her, should she begin to make her presence known in everyday social circles.

But, a pause. He realizes that might sound like he's saying it'll be easy simply because he's there, as though she couldn't manage on her own, and he knows her pride would balk at it. So, an addendum:]

The places you like to visit... I want to see them, too.

[ sips... her tea. he has wisely circumvented any difficulty in thinking him coddling, but the thing is, is her mind still works on the idea regardless. that without him, she would have just begun to... drift away, out of life. she thinks maybe she would have.

it's not a nice thought. ]

I cannot recall last time I meant to go visiting anywhere.

[Drifting out of life versus chained to the anger of an old one. They’d both be mired in stagnancy if they didn’t have each other.]

Well. What do you want to do? To see? Now, I mean.

[From her toes to the underside of her foot. A slow but deep massage.]

[ she hisses out a breath, shifts where she sits, arches her foot. feels good. ]

I want to go to library. They do not want me.

[As always, he'll work the tension out for as long as needed, thumbs pressing in deep.

Henry's brow pinch, considering.]

Who cares what they want? If you really want to go, we could get you in.

[His powers would make that easy.]

I am caring, Henry. I want them to want me. I want to be seen passing through those halls again, absolved.

[Again, she cares how others perceive her. Again, the chains of the past remain around her ankles — though it would be unfair to expect otherwise, since she's still living in her world, and Henry is not.]

Then... isn't there a way we can make that happen?

[To salvage her reputation? If that's what she really, truly wants.]

You know I'd help you.

[ tiredly, ] I don't know, Henry.

[ she has to ruin Eunoia and Selcouth Vaux. she has to mend her reputation, burnish away the tar. she has to make something of herself—make up for her family's deficit, replenish all that was lost. wizards have a very long memory, and the books that are gone... are gone.

after a moment, she exhales a bitter laugh. ] Maybe I am needing to move.

[ Waterdeep is all she has ever known or loved. the idea is farcical even in the abstract. ]

[And he knows that.]

But you love this place. They shouldn’t take that away from you, too.

It does not love me.

[That's such a heart-wrenching thing to hear her say.]

We'll make it work. I want you to be happy, no matter what happens.

[In a place where she loves, and a place that loves her back. Even if she has to make that a reality via her own determination — with his ever-willing help.

Henry releases her foot, then wiggles his fingers at her. Other foot, please?]

I am happy.

[ but it's a narrow happiness, only found when turning the lens away from what happened. after a moment, she tucks the slumbering mushroom higher on her hip so she can adjust and poke her other foot out for him. ]

…That means a lot, you know.

[That he can aid in what happiness she does have, as long as she doesn’t focus on the negative of everything else.

The mushroom murmurs sleepily, a disgruntled noise of not wanting to be awakened from its nap. It’s easily moved, though, and dozes again soon after, leaning against her.

Henry takes her other foot and massages it just like the other.]

I just wish everyone could see you as I do.