Eirika, Princess of Renais (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heartofarapier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
museboxingring2013-07-11 06:22 pm
heartofarapier) wrote in museboxingring2013-07-11 06:22 pm
/dumps self-indulgent arpee all over this comm
Does he like music?
It was a thing she had wondered as she had her face nearly pressed up against the panel of glass of the department store. On the other side, a violin fashioned of European maple and spruce, intricate scrolling filigree designs along its upper and lower bouts, and a proper pike-head bow strung up along with it. The instrument itself was not foreign to her, but it was something that the very sight brought along nostalgia.
It had been a while since she'd arrived from Magvel, and still her heart felt heavy. But Connor had certainly helped with that, while adding some weight of his own. The kind of weight that sat right upon her heart and reminded her precisely of where she stood in relation to him. And how, with each day, that seemed to matter less and less.
"I should like very much to play for him sometime," she murmured to idle air in a single breath.
Reluctantly she pried herself away and straightening out her tunic, Eirika looked about. It had been her sincerest intent to meet with him. Any company of his would do and she was hardly particular, but she'd hoped to put some professionalism aside. None of the Native and the Princess, but rather simply man and woman.
So as she made her way - and likely tardy - to their deemed meeting place (a blooming tree of little renown), her steps held her with bated breath and a silent anticipation that could only be described in books as prickling and numb.
It was a thing she had wondered as she had her face nearly pressed up against the panel of glass of the department store. On the other side, a violin fashioned of European maple and spruce, intricate scrolling filigree designs along its upper and lower bouts, and a proper pike-head bow strung up along with it. The instrument itself was not foreign to her, but it was something that the very sight brought along nostalgia.
It had been a while since she'd arrived from Magvel, and still her heart felt heavy. But Connor had certainly helped with that, while adding some weight of his own. The kind of weight that sat right upon her heart and reminded her precisely of where she stood in relation to him. And how, with each day, that seemed to matter less and less.
"I should like very much to play for him sometime," she murmured to idle air in a single breath.
Reluctantly she pried herself away and straightening out her tunic, Eirika looked about. It had been her sincerest intent to meet with him. Any company of his would do and she was hardly particular, but she'd hoped to put some professionalism aside. None of the Native and the Princess, but rather simply man and woman.
So as she made her way - and likely tardy - to their deemed meeting place (a blooming tree of little renown), her steps held her with bated breath and a silent anticipation that could only be described in books as prickling and numb.
no subject
Her free hand, she lifted, and with the lightest touch she could manage - no difficult task on her end - she settled it against his cheek. With no other incentive than to simply hold him, as if the very extension of a mere touch could possibly convey how much his words stirred her. Too surreal, honestly. He spoke with such determination, such a strength about him that he sounded almost knightly.
Connor was no prince. She had known it from the beginning and was well aware of how it could be interpreted. In a normal world, she'd be expected to wed into nobility. With Connor at her side, what would people think? Would he be ridiculed? Would he be shunned? Could she protect him? Eirika had a plethora of worries and concerns.
"You speak so brazenly with me," she finally managed to utter. "As if I am not the crown princess of Renais at all." But she was amused by his confidence and how direct he was being. It really was quite the sight to witness and the flutters he birthed were of a delightfully foreign sort. "If you would consider me yours, my strengths and influence, my diplomacy and compassion, then I would heartily consider you to be mine."