Niviene Larethian

Seeing

Niviene glared at the woman sitting across from her, the woman looked back with an air of obstinance, her blue eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed. The priestess looked closely at the woman’s features, trying to trace the furrows of grief and pain in her eyes and the lines of her face.

She wondered if anyone who looked at her might read the trials her own life had taken. Could they see that she’d been married twice before, both men leaving her for something they considered better? Could they see that she was a mother though she’d never given birth? Could they see the shadows that lurked beneath the surface, always ready to seep through her consciousness, to shrine through the blue of her eyes, making them gray pools of madness?

If someone looked at her would they see the battles she’d fought against demons, demons of the void as well as those that were her own? Were there signs of addiction defeated, loved ones lost, and gained?

Could they see sorrow and joy in equal measures? Or was one more dominate that the other? Surely anyone who saw her would see that the tiny lines at the corners of her eyes were the stamp of laughter and not regret.

Niviene glanced over her shoulder, Braghaman was late getting home; he’d gone to Stormwind Cathedral to take care of pressing matters. The children were sleeping upstairs and the house was silent, there was only the priestess and her silent companion who stared at her with condemnation.

Just when she thought she could bear no more of the woman’s assessing gaze Niviene heard the front door open and her husband called out her name. At her response he entered the room, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. He glanced at the woman across from her, noting the lines of displeasure on her face. “Why so glum Angel?” he asked, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.

Niviene gave him a soft smile before lowering her eyes once more to the mirror where she scowled at her own reflection. “Do you love me Braghaman?” she asked, her voice almost sounding defeated.

“Yes Angel, I do.” he answered.

“Will you still love me when I’m old and frail?”

He leaned over and kissed her again, “Well, other than the fact that I don’t think it’s possible for you to be frail, yes. I will love you even then. I’ll love you always.” his own blue eyes met hers in the mirror, ‘But tell me, what’s got you in such a mood?”

Her eyes rested once more at the woman who looked back at her in the mirror, “I found something awful today.”

Bragh looked at her searchingly, his imagination racing away with him, his mind's eye seeing tragedy and curses, “Are you okay Niv? What did you find? What did you see?’

She signed heavily, “A gray hair… I found a gray hair.”