Work Text:
Her vision still reeling from the barrage of memories she had experienced in an instant yet a lifetime, Stelle looked upon Tizocic II, the Empress, royalty, murderer, executioner, monster.
The woman’s eyes were red, tears streaming down her face as she gazed about, a dazed look in her eyes as if trying to compare her blessings(improve) in Penacony with her sins in Pupsha.
“Gray Knight…” she mumbled. She looked to Stelle, but she didn’t see her, as if someone else stood in the trailblazer’s place. “Gray Knight…”
“What’re you crying about?” Illifan demanded, his righteous anger still burning before her deluge of tears. “As if you didn’t do any of those things!”
Swanga said something to his friend, perhaps another comment to soothe his anger, but Stelle didn’t hear what he said.
Stepping forward, she gently took the sobbing woman into her arms, soft words whispered into her ear as she gently held her in her embrace.
She had moved without thought, but what was there to think about?
For all she could see was the young, innocent girl buying flowers to help her people.