Lady Alia, I am always so cold. I am here sweating down to my drawers, and I am still so cold.
[ She is, after all, an abyss — nothing could ever sate her, nor would she have the wherewithal to know when to reasonably stop. ]
'Tis the mark of the Carpații Meridionali within us. The mountains are my spine and ribs, cold streams and rivers my marrow and vessels, the frosts live in my lungs. Stoking the fire is not enough.
To throw herself into the flames to ward the chill that lives in the depths of her soul, the dark space within her that has never been touched by another's warmth? And if she does burn, will her insatiable hunger gather mouthful after mouthful, until everything within her is writhing and screaming — until she must flee to the arms of the howling wind and beg it to quench her? ]
I like the water, Lady. [ Meekly written.
She remembers Alia's — not fascination — her reverence. They had met in the bath, after all. ]
Lately, I am beginning to explore what it means to make wishes for myself. I am poor at it, but I believe... whatever w̸i̶s̷h̴ will come from me, it will be for the water and what is there beneath the waves.
[clever, clever woman – more so than she credits herself. alia is pleased, for her choice has also always been the water, sacred and life-giving and unknowable, relentless and unyielding and patient, coveted and craved and revered on her beloved homeworld.]
Just so. Water is the element all must fall to, eventually – it quenches fire, it will not allow air beneath it’s depths, it is the beginning and end of snow, it breaks down stone and earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, say the scholars and philosophers, but I think, in truth: we are water, we have been water, we will become water.
It is wisdom, to await your wishes and desires from the depths of water. You will know when it comes, because it is already a part of you, your vein and breath.
When it comes for you, you must tell me. I wish to hear what the water gives you.
[ how can she tell another woman that she is infatuated by the way she speaks and writes? alia is a prophetess, a creature of brilliance and wisdoms beyond mithra's dreams. she looks up to her, admires her, feels herself become the shadow deepen and darken below the strength of alia's shining might. ]
I dream often of the sea. It has always been of great fascination to me. A world indescribable and unto itself. Infinite, dark waters. The greatest mysteries below its waves. Unknowable and frightening, thrilling all the same. An endless realm. Did you know water is the only thing I cannot use in divination practices? It has always closed itself to me. I came to believe it is waiting for me to be ready.
So, of course I will tell you, Lady Alia. Whatever the water gifts me, I feel it will be important to share.
[mithra is neither worshipper nor kin to alia -- she is something else, something Other, something that calls to the strangeness woven within alia's veins. like her homelander, like roza and caroline and wally, every other strange creature, every bright and shining thing.]
My planet is desert, sand, sun. There is no water save for what is held in the core of my Dune, save for what those who tread it's surface create, release, contain. We have never seen the sea, we Fremen, we of Arrakis.
Yet it lives in my bones, my blood. My father's family was of Caladan, planet of sea and storms.
Perhaps the water waits for us both. Sacred and unknowable. Water is life, is everything. There is no sea here, but the lake is beloved to me, even in the deepest winter. I would show it to you, if I may.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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You may share mine, if you desire.
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There is a fireplace, though. And I fear I have stoked the flames far too high. The room is oppressive now.
[ img.jpg ]
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Is this so, Mithra of covenants, of enduring, of heat on your skin?
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[ She is, after all, an abyss — nothing could ever sate her, nor would she have the wherewithal to know when to reasonably stop. ]
'Tis the mark of the Carpații Meridionali within us. The mountains are my spine and ribs, cold streams and rivers my marrow and vessels, the frosts live in my lungs.
Stoking the fire is not enough.
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Do you wish to burn, then? To be consumed, to surrender to the flames? Or is your frozen vigil contentment, to your fretful soul?
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To throw herself into the flames to ward the chill that lives in the depths of her soul, the dark space within her that has never been touched by another's warmth? And if she does burn, will her insatiable hunger gather mouthful after mouthful, until everything within her is writhing and screaming — until she must flee to the arms of the howling wind and beg it to quench her? ]
I like the water, Lady. [ Meekly written.
She remembers Alia's — not fascination — her reverence. They had met in the bath, after all. ]
Lately, I am beginning to explore what it means to make wishes for myself. I am poor at it, but I believe... whatever w̸i̶s̷h̴ will come from me, it will be for the water and what is there beneath the waves.
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Just so. Water is the element all must fall to, eventually – it quenches fire, it will not allow air beneath it’s depths, it is the beginning and end of snow, it breaks down stone and earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, say the scholars and philosophers, but I think, in truth: we are water, we have been water, we will become water.
It is wisdom, to await your wishes and desires from the depths of water. You will know when it comes, because it is already a part of you, your vein and breath.
When it comes for you, you must tell me. I wish to hear what the water gives you.
no subject
I dream often of the sea. It has always been of great fascination to me. A world indescribable and unto itself. Infinite, dark waters. The greatest mysteries below its waves. Unknowable and frightening, thrilling all the same. An endless realm. Did you know water is the only thing I cannot use in divination practices? It has always closed itself to me. I came to believe it is waiting for me to be ready.
So, of course I will tell you, Lady Alia. Whatever the water gifts me, I feel it will be important to share.
no subject
My planet is desert, sand, sun. There is no water save for what is held in the core of my Dune, save for what those who tread it's surface create, release, contain. We have never seen the sea, we Fremen, we of Arrakis.
Yet it lives in my bones, my blood. My father's family was of Caladan, planet of sea and storms.
Perhaps the water waits for us both. Sacred and unknowable. Water is life, is everything. There is no sea here, but the lake is beloved to me, even in the deepest winter. I would show it to you, if I may.