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Little Halfling, Big Heart (Part 2)
She'd walked away from him without a word. Talc had still been deep into his slumber when she had awoken in the cell, his arms wrapped loosely around her and his warmth pressed up against her back. She'd almost smiled at the comfort she'd felt, knowing that he'd forgiven her for her actions and had taken to her once more as a dear friend. She'd thought to wake him when she heard the cell doors being opened, but she knew what she'd see in his eyes, that look of a child being left alone in the dark woods without a caring hand to guide. She knew she had walked away in fear of seeing her own tears...because it was one of the few fears she had ever known. She couldn't bear that strain upon her shoulders; not then, not now, not when everything she knew was falling down around her.
She took in the images, the memories of bitter faces, sounds of harsh tones and cruel words that rang seemingly to no end from the people back at Baldur's Gate. She pressed her face harder to her knees, bitting down on her now pale blue lip, until she felt the warm flow of blood break loose and flow onto her tongue. She'd only ever wanted to enjoy her life to the fullest, to remain where her heart had always resided; that of a child. She didn't want to take on the meaningless tasks of duty, right or wrong, or bound to honour deeds that so many others fell victim to. She wanted to remain free in every respect. She didn't want this responsibility. Not then, not now.
That was why she could not return there now, even in knowing that Talc would be sick with worry for her well being. She could not bear the weight of those mocking taunts and snide remarks at the expense of her values or her friendships now. She did what was right according to herself, and that's all she felt mattered. She never worried before about the teasing, the bullying; but now it all seemed so heavy, so real and intact. She knew that if he were to return to that village, blood would be spilt, and it would end in her undoing. They were to blame, yes, but the finger would be cast upon her in the end, as it always seemed to be.
Peeking up over the bend of her knees, she searched into the distance, staring hard into a blanket of snowy fog which never seemed to give any break in its rush across the bleak landscape. There, in the cold and bitter waistland of Icewind Dale, Sophie found something deep inside herself, and she choked hard upon it, letting it swell within the recess of her aching throat. Then, without so much as a whimper, a soft, steady flow of tears washed down her frozen cheeks, rolling down onto her knees where they vanished from sight, becoming just another victim to the bitter winds of the northern dale..
She took in the images, the memories of bitter faces, sounds of harsh tones and cruel words that rang seemingly to no end from the people back at Baldur's Gate. She pressed her face harder to her knees, bitting down on her now pale blue lip, until she felt the warm flow of blood break loose and flow onto her tongue. She'd only ever wanted to enjoy her life to the fullest, to remain where her heart had always resided; that of a child. She didn't want to take on the meaningless tasks of duty, right or wrong, or bound to honour deeds that so many others fell victim to. She wanted to remain free in every respect. She didn't want this responsibility. Not then, not now.
That was why she could not return there now, even in knowing that Talc would be sick with worry for her well being. She could not bear the weight of those mocking taunts and snide remarks at the expense of her values or her friendships now. She did what was right according to herself, and that's all she felt mattered. She never worried before about the teasing, the bullying; but now it all seemed so heavy, so real and intact. She knew that if he were to return to that village, blood would be spilt, and it would end in her undoing. They were to blame, yes, but the finger would be cast upon her in the end, as it always seemed to be.
Peeking up over the bend of her knees, she searched into the distance, staring hard into a blanket of snowy fog which never seemed to give any break in its rush across the bleak landscape. There, in the cold and bitter waistland of Icewind Dale, Sophie found something deep inside herself, and she choked hard upon it, letting it swell within the recess of her aching throat. Then, without so much as a whimper, a soft, steady flow of tears washed down her frozen cheeks, rolling down onto her knees where they vanished from sight, becoming just another victim to the bitter winds of the northern dale..