[It takes a few paces to find her own proper stride. The certainty of Faramir beside her, solid and warm and still nearly surrounding her with his presence, continues to draw a steadiness she's been lacking properly back into her core.
By the time they reach the fresh bright air of the garden, Ophelia is walking without leaning--holding on without struggling for her own feet. She doesn't quite feel entirely herself again (it will take time, she knows, for the strange new edges of her home to be dulled, so their bite will be an ache rather than a searing pain), but the tears feel much farther off now.
(This, she knows, is proper love, steady and deep and true. This is a love that gives, that nourishes, that pulls the pieces of her back together rather than growing into the cracks so that her seams begin to burst.)
Her voice still feels small, but there's an edge of determination back in it.] Your... men are well?
[Just a moment's normalcy will help solidify this calm. Just a few seconds of pretending that they've simply stolen another quiet night together from the hell they've both been living.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-02-17 03:39 am (UTC)By the time they reach the fresh bright air of the garden, Ophelia is walking without leaning--holding on without struggling for her own feet. She doesn't quite feel entirely herself again (it will take time, she knows, for the strange new edges of her home to be dulled, so their bite will be an ache rather than a searing pain), but the tears feel much farther off now.
(This, she knows, is proper love, steady and deep and true. This is a love that gives, that nourishes, that pulls the pieces of her back together rather than growing into the cracks so that her seams begin to burst.)
Her voice still feels small, but there's an edge of determination back in it.] Your... men are well?
[Just a moment's normalcy will help solidify this calm. Just a few seconds of pretending that they've simply stolen another quiet night together from the hell they've both been living.]