Svajonė

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It had happened again. There was another of Vidarr’s conquests in Dawnbreak.

– and even Euphemia, at her worst, could recognize that was a harsh position to take on a woman who was doubly wounded; a broken leg, and the trauma of recovering from a stillbirth.

However, if one could look at it from Euphemia’s perspective, the new woman’s presence was a continual reminder that Vidarr had not chosen her, and was continuing not to choose her. In fact, he would rather shack up with this broken thing and her fatherless pup than choose her. He would not share her den, and likely never would, and it was ultimately clear that it was because of who she was because there was no circumstantial evidence she could blame it on.

Still, sometimes at night, she told herself that he was just oblivious. He was too dutiful to consider her a real option – too loyal to Father, even in his absence. She was a cub to him, as young and nascent as the newborn that mewled on the floor of his home.

This was not the astounding, astonishing, soul-shattering news as it might have once been. Euphemia was largely becoming used to this, and was trying to be more mature about it all. It didn’t matter that she was the unchosen one, not when there was a woman who was likely in need of support and female companionship.

It wasn’t this woman’s fault she felt so shitty.
Honestly, it was Vidarr’s.
Euphemia was certain to assign blame as such.

In one of her better moments, the silver maiden deigned to swallow her ire – for the betterment of Dawnbreak. She thought about bringing something, but she could not figure out what she wanted for, so Euphemia arrived empty-handed. She could bring herbs later, when she was more aware of the pertinent health conditions. Perhaps her presence would be enough, for now.

She was sharing her homeland, was there truly more that was required of her?

Euphemia stood awkwardly outside of the den, sniffing the earth to ensure that the occupants were inside. However, uncertain what to say, Euphemia just stood there, waiting for the words to fill her and intention to move her.

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skill: [none]

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The new lady had noticed her before she could announce herself. Great, now she looked like a creep.

She was invited inside, but in truth; Euphemia didn’t want to go inside. She had never before been within the confines of Vidarr’s den, and it felt far too intimate – and since the invitation had not come from Vidarr, and inside the woman he chose to inhabit it, the closeness felt misplaced.

Yet Euphemia was far too well-trained to deny such an offer. Even more so, Euphemia remembered what a feeble physical condition she heard the woman to be, and it was rude to expect her to exert the physical effort to answer her own summons.

So, the maiden glanced inside; then walked inside. Before she could even acknowledge the woman (whose name she had regrettably forgotten to remember at that moment), her attention was stolen by the smallest, roundest, more adorable pup at her breast. A flurry of strange emotions burst within Euphemia, some which were positive and some that were negative; all that were confounding.

Hi, I’m… I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to introduce myself, the maiden stammered, quite flustered at intruding upon such an intimate scene. But she had been invited in, hadn’t she? Euphemia could have sworn she had heard a rather snarky welcome, but perhaps she had been wrong...

Despite everything in her mind telling her not to, Euphemia could only watch as her hips sat themselves where they were, firmly planting herself in the moment. Unbidden, the words came to her lips – I’m Euphemia.

She wondered if perhaps the injured mother already knew who she was. Maybe Vidarr had spoken of her, Phia though hopefully – hopeful, only since the man no longer spoke to her.

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