Mar. 5th, 2012

queenofmay: (Lady: Headstrong)
[A few hours after these ooms]

Marian wasn't expecting this Door.

You can tell by the peasant-girl black dress and matching thread-bare cloak, the thick leather satchel across her middle, and the completely insensible up-the-calf be-ribboned strappy black shoes. Maybe even more so, because of how she looks back toward the dark inner-castle house-alley that is sprawled out in the deep shadows of night behind her first.

Torn. But she had finished, and she had been heading back.

Milliways had at least let her do the important parts first.




Which means that resolute, but graceful, blur, who echoes the muffled clink of glass bottles at her hip, was Marian headed up the stairs. To be returned, not too much longer after, by a girl in a more proper gown, with night-wind-tossed curls recklessly still to escape her fingers as she was pinning them back. (The shoes as far more sensible, as well.)

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queenofmay

May 2014

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