[WEEK 5: SATURDAY, POST-TRIAL: Lucina]

[spinatalltale]

[she doesn't care. why should she? she knows how this ends. she knows how it's always ended. she opens her heart to someone, and is a disappointment enough for them to cast her aside or leave her]

[she doesn't know why this place would be any different]

[. . . and yet, this evening after the trial, her feet guide her without input from her brain. she checks their mutual hut first-- nothing. she wanders for some time, weaving in and out of the wicker houses]

[until she finds herself at Bellamy's hut. she doesn't know why she didn't try here first, honestly. . . she knows how close the two are, how close they remain, despite the exchanged glances at trial]

Lucina?

[no dramatics. no theatrics. no cheer or usual peppiness. just Magilou, searching for her partner, and totally not because she actually cares or anything like that]

Comments

[spinatalltale]

[what did the snow ever do to deserve this!!]

[at least Magilou is there, with her hand on Lucina's back, trying not to make faces]

[rightfully]

[ Eventually, she eases up, wiping her mouth. The taste of sour liquor and bile is likely going to remain until well into the morning, but Lucina's medieval, so you know she's been through worse.

She's never had a hangover before, though.

Tomorrow will be interesting.

In a small voice, she says, ] Thank you.

[spinatalltale]

[it sure will be. drink lots of water, Lucina]

Don't mention it. I just want to make sure you don't accidentally wind up puking up your stomach.