Val’s Musings – Part 1

I can often feel people’s eyes on me. But I have grown adept at being able to distinguish between looks of fear, and those that belong to desire. 

Having a complicated lineage such as mine—having to fly under the radar on a regular basis—I understand more than most how to watch others as they watch me. They think I don’t know, but I can feel their stares burn into the back of my head, into my body, sinking into my skin when they think I’m not looking. Tilia, in particular, is exceptionally inept at hiding her hot gaze raking over my body following most physical encounters.

I am stunning—I know this. It’s equal parts delight and torture to know that I can still draw the attention of someone as unattainable as the Firbolg. But fate has always been a cruel mistress, because even as I relish the attention from the beautiful creature, there’s only one other’s heart that I truly desire, only one other’s lips that I long to kiss.

Good Lord. That kiss. I’m still reeling from the sensation of Ula’s breath escaping her lips and ghosting across my face, before connecting with mine. I know why she did it. I know why she couldn’t help herself. But in doing so, she broke my heart all over again. Surely, she must know that we cannot be together? Surely, too much water has passed under the bridge? 

My mother is gone, my home is lost, all because I let our feelings get the better of us. The turmoil of fighting for my family—of them fighting against me, has changed me. A clarity of thought has been developing in my mind over the last two years. I am harder, and I feel less now. I am not sorry for who I had to become to survive.

Yet, I cannot shake the feeling that Ula and I are destined for one another. She is precious to me. 

But what if you find your soulmate at the wrong time? 

These feelings are impossible, I know. On most days, it’s easier to look away from them, to not examine these thoughts too closely. I’ve succeeded in doing this for the most part, but there have been moments when I’ve let the tenderness escape their cage. 

Tilia is usually the one to blame for these moments of weakness—the tall, fuzzy creature is endearing as she is fascinating. Like the time she nearly lost her arm to that infernal mummy’s curse: I let myself get carried away with my concern. I pushed our team too hard through the night, risking our safety, all because I couldn’t bear the thought of Tilia suffering a moment longer than she had to. It was stupid, and reckless, and I knew that even as strained to carry Travis back with me to the Glade. But I’m a proud creature, and I will never admit to being anything other than completely certain about my decisions. Just as I will never admit to the tender ache that bloomed in my chest when I watched the black tendrils recede on Tilia’s arm that morning. 

Even if I didn’t show it, the intensity of my emotion was jarring, threatening to split open the space where I keep my complicated feelings for my companions. With Tilia, the pull is entirely physical. But with Ula, it’s never that simple. I don’t know how long these wounds will take to heal, but I hope they don’t grow tired of me. I hope this has a happy ending.

Be patient with me, my companions. My heart is heavy.