The raven-haired Highlander bard had fallen silent for a long time, simply enjoying her glass of wine as she resumed her seat, precariously balanced on the railing of the Quicksand. She had heard that lalafells had once perched in this very spot, and overlooking some of those gathered in the tavern, she could see why. She had happily listened as the chattered continued, wondering why everyone was sporting such a loose tongue that echoed their deepest thoughts. She had only taken part because it was fun, she had no such compunction. At least until the two that posed the most recent questions met each other's gaze. She took note with an arched brow.
"Love and death. Within a breath of each other. Mm." She hummed. "One ponders one's end..." her green eyes sought out the broody Mister No-fun who had asked. "And the other ponders what cost one is willing to pay for love." She glanced to the redhead.
She smirked. "Perhaps one answer applies to both. "I wish to face death with no regrets. No second thoughts. No what-ifs. I would spend that last week doing everything and anything I ever wanted to do. There shall be no man I would wonder what his lips felt like, no sweet delicacy I would not try, and no music I would not dance to." She leaned against the railing with one hand, her belled bracelets jingling. "I would ask to die in my bed, well fed, well loved, and in the arms of a handsome man that adored me."
"No regrets, Miss Somber and Mister Serious." She raised her glass. "Love is a forbidden joy, meant to bring ye to yer knees, risk all that matters, and still bring ye heartbreak in the end. And yet, and yet it is still worth it all." Her eyes drift back to the brooding man with a slow nod. "Everything." She drained her glass of the last drop of the dark wine. "Or so the bards say when we sing of it."
"Love and death. Within a breath of each other. Mm." She hummed. "One ponders one's end..." her green eyes sought out the broody Mister No-fun who had asked. "And the other ponders what cost one is willing to pay for love." She glanced to the redhead.
She smirked. "Perhaps one answer applies to both. "I wish to face death with no regrets. No second thoughts. No what-ifs. I would spend that last week doing everything and anything I ever wanted to do. There shall be no man I would wonder what his lips felt like, no sweet delicacy I would not try, and no music I would not dance to." She leaned against the railing with one hand, her belled bracelets jingling. "I would ask to die in my bed, well fed, well loved, and in the arms of a handsome man that adored me."
"No regrets, Miss Somber and Mister Serious." She raised her glass. "Love is a forbidden joy, meant to bring ye to yer knees, risk all that matters, and still bring ye heartbreak in the end. And yet, and yet it is still worth it all." Her eyes drift back to the brooding man with a slow nod. "Everything." She drained her glass of the last drop of the dark wine. "Or so the bards say when we sing of it."
