[ Merrin gives the other woman as much time as she needs to think it over, waiting in silence until Aloy entrusts the paper to her. Then, quietly but clearly, she reads the words aloud to the fire—words that miss and hope and wish. And try. They ache a little, under her breastbone, out of familiarity, but her voice doesn't waver.
When she's done, she turns back to Aloy, holding out her empty hand, palm up in offering—Aloy is meant to put her hand in Merrin's, if she chooses. ]
no subject
When she's done, she turns back to Aloy, holding out her empty hand, palm up in offering—Aloy is meant to put her hand in Merrin's, if she chooses. ]
Shall we burn it together?