& i will be the house that holds every part of you

branching away from the main struggle, mostly for @Elowyn & @Olive but lmk if anyone wants to join ig

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there had been no frightful fury when last she had clutched the cobbles of this shore; all riannon knows is that she is spent, and that the dune-woven woman at her side is wived to the helm of windmere, and that her palantír — farseer is sent to short by the golden-fleeced pilgrim from before. going to the shadowed seer was better than this; better than thinking of how to clumsily fill the strained silence that follows after men have gone to war and husband's go to hunt and lovers surrender themselves to lusting for blood. when she goes to the waif that straggles ashore, whatever green she has brought with her is abandoned; ever nearer, nearer until she and her are as close as a heartbeat and the nightingale shrugs off her shawl of shame in favor of wending her moonshed neck 'round olive's shoulders and towing her into her slight embrace.

there are no words, yet;
there is no need.

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The touch of Riannon is sweeter than honey. She is drawn in like a salmon leaping upstream into a waiting, woven net; the sudden sobs that rise in her throat were totally unbidden, and the woman collapsed into a quivering pile of shock and terror. Not even ten minutes ago, she had been held captive by the blubbery King and Queen, who deigned to fatten her and wrap her up like a most-unwilling present — now she was with the ghostly woman who haunted her past and present; now looking much like an angel, one pale pelt against another of gold against the bright, cloudless, sky.

"Oh, Gods..." she gasped between uncontrollable, racketing shivers. Oh, she wanted to believe she was safe, but her mind could not let go of the possibility that this was actually death; that she had really died, and her pain was all over. now she was laying here, with several seraphim that had come to usher her spirit home. It all seemed to dissonant, that it was almost plausible; almost possible...

Olive convulsed gently as she struggled to take a smooth breath, and cried into the snow.

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Elowyn followed the woman. It was definitely better than fighting. She was a little nervous to be away from her husband. She was also worried about his safety. Luckily they now could focus on the woman that had been kidnapped. Olive. Elowyn instantly moved closer to her.

"Hello, we are here to help," she told the other softly. She watched the female, possibly going into a state of shock. The woman stayed close to her, wanting to check her over for any injuries, but it might be that all her injuries were rather mental than physical. "I'm Elowyn, if that soothes things for you," she added. She let Olive decide what to do with that information.
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