Written in Code, Written in Blood, Written on My Heart
'Twas a strange thing, this love of which she read. Her mother spoke disparagingly of it, telling her tales of men's duplicity and women's weakness for a word that was more lie than truth.
She grew up nursed on lessons of how to use this weakness against others, and if some part of her mind doubted all of her mother's lessons, what basis did she have to decode the truth from the lie?
'Twas a strange thing, this feeling that grew in her, nurtured in blood and death, trust and sacrifice. Every time she tested him, expecting him to fail, he surpassed himself.
What woman could say her lover slew a dragon, the dragon for her? He spoke of love, and the word thrilled in her blood. He used her weakness more masterfully than her mother had ever trained her to - she saw and still she allowed it.
More the fool was she.
'Twas a strange thing, when she saw him once again at the Eluvian. All the times that she had derided bards' songs of devotion and forgiveness came back to mock her thrice over. Stranger still the way her heart leapt before she turned to face him.
She spoke of curiosity, but it was a lie.
She spoke of change, and that was a truth. There was change to come, and there were changes that had already come to pass.
Her mother had taught her that love was a weakness, etched that belief right into the muscle of her heart.
He rewrote everything and she allowed it. Perhaps that was strength - to stand on the precipice of change and then to leap.