I Can't believe my Goddess of Death is this dense.
It was done - after centuries of plotting, and waiting, and countless sacrifices, at last Isha had been freed of the Plague God's clutches. The Aeldari rejoiced as Isha assumed her role at the head of the aldari pantheon, accepting rulership over the living as Ynnead surrendered her regency with ernest eagerness. Isha was glad that there had been no friction with the hand over, and Ynnead herself had proved intriguing. She was surprisingly deferential to Isha in matters outside her domains of focus, something Isha found deeply refreshing to receive from a peer.
In truth the young goddess had been a great comfort to Isha as she recovered from her long nightmarish imprisonment. Having someone to lean on when it became clear how little of Kurnous was left had been a balm upon her grief, and Ynnead's quiet presence had calmed her greatly during her few panic attacks. The reserved goddess' mere presence seemed to calm Isha's niggling fears, her hesitant gentleness never failing to remind her that she was loved and safe. Isha wasn't exactly sure when that moved from appreciation to love, but in matters of the heart clear lines are rare.
For the Aeldari empathy is more than simple body language and implication, they are a psychic people and their ways reflect this. When an Aeldari lets their feelings show there is no risk of miscommunication. Isha did not need to ask to know Ynnead was interested in her, her unhidden heart was as obvious as a bouquet of flowers. In theory Isha would simply have to mirror the honesty of her would-be paramour to signal she wished to court her. In practice things did not go so easily.
At first Isha wondered if she had somehow misread Ynnead's feelings, mistaking a deep platonic bond for a romantic attraction. But her blushing and stuttering retreat when Isha briefly wore
that dress put an end to that notion. So Isha began slowly increasing the blatancy of her affection. She smiled overly brightly, she let her hand linger on Ynnead's, found excuses to hug her, all manner of things that were about as subtle as a brick through a window. All were met with (adorable) stuttering and little more, save a hasty exist if Isha got too blatant.
Frustrated Isha turned to those that knew Ynnead well. Cegorach was deep in one of his laughing fits, so would be unavailable for a while, her conversation with Eldrad however proved enlightening. The man simply could not go more than three sentences without being ominously vague, and seemed to be instrinctly incapable of any great deal of emotional opness. Isha considered what spending millennia with only the likes of Cegroach and Eldrad as the peers would be like, and suddenly the entire situation made a great deal more sense.
Matters of the heart where almost never simple, and even the strongest and greatest of creatures could be hurt by incautious action, yet often inaction could become a small ever bleeding wound. The path forward would be fraught and full of risk. Fortunately, connections can solve
many problems.
Ishas attempt to solve her relationship issues via application of divine divinations rapidly ran into a roadblock. Namely someone had beaten her to it, and Ridcully was apparently full up on his yearly quota of relationship drama. Retreating in the face of his grousing Isha at least took heart that Yennead had realized
something was up. Even if she apparently still hadn't realized what. With knowledge that Yennead has sought the Blind Oracle's help, her offer for a nice walk in the hungering desert seemed promising.
The desert was a
wonder! A land shaped by death and horror, yet its very nature of transgression had been turned upon itself. Beasts made from a million maddened souls striving to overcome their nature, creatures of hunger devoting themselves to art glorifying the power of love and hope, a beast of a million stolen faces preaching the virtues of compassion and redemption, dead things striving to Live,
flowers cultivated in defiance of the desert! It was awash with monuments to the power of love, and those trying to unify life and death, that Ynnead had chosen so well was breathtaking.
The lord of the land greeted them with unpracticed ceremony, a vast leviathan struggling to learn how to be a queen. Her customs where crude, and quite clearly new, but Isha accepted the gesture in the spirit it was given. As she thanked Ynnead for taking her to such a place, and was rewarded with a subdued smile, Isha set out to finish the half made miracle in front of her. The strange creature that had begun this transformation had worked in the medium of flowers, but had not truly understood them so it was incomplete, something Isha would relish the chance remedy.
It was not going well.
Something was missing. Her attempts to feed the flowers worked, but for some reason attempts to get them to grow without a feed of power where failing. She could
feel energy locked and stagnant somehow, waiting for the right catalyst. She had grown so absorbed in her task that she was caught by surprise when Ynnead gently squeezed her shoulder, clearly intent on helping her. Isha favored her with a smile before taking her hand in hers and once more reaching out.
Slowly, hesitantly, Ynnead reached out to the flowers, Isha blushed silently as she felt their powers entwine. Then, Ynnead's power spoke of endings, of Rot… and rebirth. Isha froze for and for a fraction of a second she was elsewhere, the stagnant pool of potential became a vibrant cycle and the field bloomed with a riotous burst of new life. Isha laughed in honest delight, forgetting Propriety and simply pulling Ynnead into a tight embrace babbling excitedly about what the blending of their powers had birthed. Isha paused for breath and felt Yennead reach out to call one of their creations to her hand. With a nervous smile, she reached slowly and set the flower into Isha's hair. Isha went stock still, stunned by her beloved's forwardness, only to realize a heartbeat later than
Ynnead had no idea of what the gesture meant. Isha's composure broke and she burst into giggles as she buried her head in Ynneads neck giggling openly at how utterly ridiculous her love was.
A breathless few minutes of later later, a soft silent cough drew their attention to their attendant. As she silently apologized with silent eloquence for the departure of her lord Isha felt quite embarrassed. That their new attendant seemed to be vaguely amused rather than offended by her rudeness did not exactly help. Still, the rest of their outing was wonderful. Their new guide proving to be a far better host than her lord. Ensuring a high degree of privacy while showing them a series of breathtaking vistas. While Ynnead never showed such boldness again, she seemed far more comfortable in Isha's presence, even if she seemed quite thoroughly unaware of the meaning of her actions. On their way out, their mute attendant handed them each a small box.
Isha peeked in hers, finding the first petal of the bloom somehow worked into a pendant, and inscribed with the words "
May your love ever give death a purpose." Isha smiled and turned to a puzzled Ynnead, and advised her to wait until she was alone to open it.
Later that night, a ripple of shock and embarrassment tore through the palace of the gods. Isha smiled, and decided to make a point of wearing the pendant tomorrow.
@Durin Another bit of silly shipping floof.
