OOC: sorry it took a while for me to get to this..lol so so sleepy ><
IC:
Opehlia inhaled sharply and took a step back as the man suddenly approached her. She stood fearfully, her eyes watching as he took the fish. However, it wasn't registering in her mind what he was doing. All she knew was that he was too close. Too close; he could catch her madness, could he not? And, though she didn't dare to admit it, it had been a while since she had stood this close to a man, a knightly one at that. The woman was uncomfortable, not quite knowing what to do. Thus, she stood there, like a rigid doll, staring into the void, not noticing as he walked past towards the door.
Her breathing only became steady and even when he started feeding the noble creature and began speaking. She blinked and shuddered, coming back into focus. Ophelia didn't respond to his recitation of both of their names, nor of him calling her Lady. Instead, she just stared, still as startled as ever. Her hands twitched, playing nervously with the edges of her skirts. She only started to freely response once he mentioned that he wasn't a mage. That relaxed her, a little. She didn't think the curse be felled on nonmages.
Ophelia nodded vigorously several times before getting back to work to preparing the fish for cooking.
The woman listened quietly to Sir Daine- for that, she concluded, is what she must call him- and his tale. She didn't offer any sign that she had heard him, though she was in fact pondering on his very words. As she continued to work with the fish, adding spices and some vegetables, Ophelia began to think of journeys. She was too frightened to go out there. Too many voices, too many people who could use magic or could even recognize her. No, it was too dangerous, and not to mention noisy. But the lady knew the way to the Capitol, and she was rather curious about this ...Eye of his.
It relieved Ophelia that he had no desire to use it. She didn't know exactly why, but it did.
A wild thought ran through her mind.
He could help me be forever rid of this curse.
She frowned at the implication. It wasn't impossible, she knew that, but incredibly difficult, and he was a stranger, besides. Plus, she couldn't handle people...
Finally , when she was done preparing the food and popped it in the oven, she turned around to face the Knight. She gave him a questioning glare before striding towards the book shelf. She pulled out an Atlas that she had for quite some time now. Some of the pages were yellowing.
"I can help," she offered, her right pointer finger tracing the cover, as if she had just rediscovered the text. She slowly walked towards the table, her skirts gently flowing as she strode towards the man and placed the book in front of him.
"It illustrates the best routes," she explained, "The forests don't change much, but the cities might."
She shook her head with a small laugh. She almost looked normal and completely healthy.
"Actually," she mused, "It would probably be best if I..."
She stopped. She was about to say "if I accompanied you". Hadn't she, just moments ago, just reasoned why a journey would not be a good idea for her? What was she thinking?
You were thinking about getting rid of this dreadful curse.
So, instead of finishing her sentence, she just shook her head.
"Was a fancy, and nothing more," she muttered before rising to tend to the oven's fire, again. She started to mutter to herself, flustered.
She couldn't, she can't ,she wouldn't....Not again, never again.
Without realizing it, the fragile woman began to furiously mutter a poem from an old epic, something an old lover used to recite to her. It had been from her favorite story. It seemed to build up tension as she went along, until she was finally finished, and wiped her hands in her skirts. Again, if he had said anything during this time, she didn't hear it; she was too distracted by her own conflicting mind.
Again, she abruptly turned around, and plopped herself in a chair, opposite to the Knight.
"It'll be done after a while," she said in a soft voice, looking up at him. She couldn't hold eye contact for a very long time, however, and looked down at her gloved hands, which were twitching nervously in her lap.
Suddenly, she felt very tired.
" It's good that you don't use it," she said in her soft voice, going back to the subject of the Eye, "Magical objects are often dangerous, and ought not to be messed around with, especially ones such as this."
She frowned.
"But you say 'possess no hold', as if it were possible," she repeated, suddenly concerned, "Does that mean that it can?"