be near me when i fade away;

[cailisairgid]

Who: Nuala and Anna
What: A binding.
Where: Hellsing Guild Hall
When: Backdated to shortly after this post.
Warnings: Possible creepiness.

Upon Anna's arrival, she's escorted directly to Princess Nuala's office by one of her department aids; perhaps that Nuala sees fit to conduct this in that office is an indication of her confidence.

The room is dimmed and a little over-warm, though the fire isn't burning now and the embers are hidden behind a steel fireplace guard. The scent of the candles that were lit earlier lingers, soothing and not immediately identifiable; Nuala herself sits in her usual armchair, an embroidery hoop in her lap that she has yet to begin stitching into, the silver thread waiting, glinting in the low light.

"Come," she says, extending a hand to invite Anna into the seat opposite. "Sit."

Comments

[cailisairgid]

There is an odd ritualized formality about the smooth motions as Nuala draws the last stitch taut, knots it and bites the thread free; the Huntress will sleep and dream, and Anna will have her peace a while, to better decide how to achieve it through other means.

The spell draws taut as the thread, and she unscrews the hoop to discard it, taking a neat pair of gold sewing scissors to cut the symbol from the pale fabric. She selects a ribbon, quiet and patient as she waits for Anna to stir herself into this new equilibrium, to see what's needed now.

[indiscreet]

The hush settles, solidifies around her, and she feels herself disappear with a last sigh of storm clouds.

Anna is awake; she is gone. The panic hits, then, like an epiphany. She doesn't say anything, but it's apparent on her face, in the widening of her eyes and sharp intake of breath through her teeth. Already her fingernails are digging into the palms of her hands.

"I am...alone." It's not quite true; she is subtly aware of of the Huntress within her, a kind of pressure against her bones, threading through her muscles and hovering at the back of her mind (and strange, too, to give that presence a name, instead of its just being as much a part of her as her Beast, or as whatever she had that passed for a soul) -- but she also hadn't realized how much she had come to depend on the Huntress's cruel sort of wisdom to lend eloquence to her words.

[cailisairgid]

"A part of you sleeps," Nuala corrects her, gently, stitching the fabric to the ribbon neatly, smoothing seams together with equal parts craft and enchantment. There is an odd, answering ache that underlies her own words in response (she is alone, but she is not; he is there, he is only out of reach), but she smiles, very slightly, as she finishes her work. "And will sleep for perhaps a week. You will take this with you when you go, and keep it by you."

(I have been wanting to -- no pun intended -- tie this thread up, since it is lovely)

[indiscreet]

The shock of it all (as gentle a shock as it could be, but still so different a feeling from what she had, without realizing, become accustomed to) is numbing; Anna holds her out her hand to receive this gift a second time.

Just the feeling of the embroidery as she traces it with her thumb is reassuring, somehow. She never thought she would believe in magic. In God, yes, and His rightful damnation, but magic had been pagan foolishness. How is it that she had forgotten to consider all these questions for so long?

"...Thank you, Your Highness." The gratitude in her voice is genuine, and it gives her pause before asking her next question. "And...when the week is up?"