And finally, a bit of game fic.
Jan. 17th, 2006 09:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanBecause everyone likes the game fic. Sort of. As always, if you play in Zoyala's campaign, tis OOC knowledge. Though nothing too spoilerific, as it's set before last session.
Zoyala packed her bedroll and supplies away, lost in thought. Her face was schooled into her careful mask of neutrality – the expression that had served her so well for the past eleven years. Or at least…she hoped it was a mask. More and more, Dilan seemed to be able to see right through her, and she suspected Kyrin was more observant than some would give him credit for as well. Perhaps she was the problem. Perhaps the stress was getting to her. Angrily, she pushed the thought away. Self-pity wouldn’t get her anywhere.
The others were engaged in preparing to pursue Nathaniel, everyone more or less preoccupied in their own way. Zoyala snuck a sidelong glance at Galadrìan’s clothing to confirm the similarity she noted in her dream. She followed his gaze to Alora and inwardly sighed. She didn’t know what to make of the half-elf anymore. She had to be in pain, with Nathaniel captured, but her passion was blinding her. It was ridiculous of her to have believed the rumors, but it was her conduct towards Galadrìan that was the largest source of concern.
Zoyala caught herself pursuing the train of thought to avoid making a decision about the dream and scolded herself mentally. She was, perhaps, going soft in the head, allowing herself to loose focus this way. Without any change in her features, she debated with herself.
On the one hand, sharing the dream might distract the group, causing them to ask questions she couldn’t answer and wasting precious time. Time which might make all the difference to Nathaniel. On the other, sharing this dream might set a good precedent for openness that the group so badly needed. If there were to be comrades in arms much longer, they were going to have to learn to trust each other a little farther. Zoyala almost, but not quite, smiled to herself. Not that the pot’s calling the kettle black or anything, my dear…
The problem was, although she did trust some of the group members, there were others that made her hesitate. And she couldn’t very well share with some and not others; traveling on the road was not condusive to such privacy, as she’d already learned with Alora’s little drama. She could hold off and share later, though she imagined that everyone would jump to question the delay.
Finally, just as they were about to break camp, she reached a decision. They could question her on the road, if they liked. She would share the dream but emphasize that they should go after Nathaniel now and work on deciphering it later. They needed to trust each other, and she was going to take a step in that direction. She just hoped that she, or Nathaniel, would not pay the price for doing so.
Zoyala packed her bedroll and supplies away, lost in thought. Her face was schooled into her careful mask of neutrality – the expression that had served her so well for the past eleven years. Or at least…she hoped it was a mask. More and more, Dilan seemed to be able to see right through her, and she suspected Kyrin was more observant than some would give him credit for as well. Perhaps she was the problem. Perhaps the stress was getting to her. Angrily, she pushed the thought away. Self-pity wouldn’t get her anywhere.
The others were engaged in preparing to pursue Nathaniel, everyone more or less preoccupied in their own way. Zoyala snuck a sidelong glance at Galadrìan’s clothing to confirm the similarity she noted in her dream. She followed his gaze to Alora and inwardly sighed. She didn’t know what to make of the half-elf anymore. She had to be in pain, with Nathaniel captured, but her passion was blinding her. It was ridiculous of her to have believed the rumors, but it was her conduct towards Galadrìan that was the largest source of concern.
Zoyala caught herself pursuing the train of thought to avoid making a decision about the dream and scolded herself mentally. She was, perhaps, going soft in the head, allowing herself to loose focus this way. Without any change in her features, she debated with herself.
On the one hand, sharing the dream might distract the group, causing them to ask questions she couldn’t answer and wasting precious time. Time which might make all the difference to Nathaniel. On the other, sharing this dream might set a good precedent for openness that the group so badly needed. If there were to be comrades in arms much longer, they were going to have to learn to trust each other a little farther. Zoyala almost, but not quite, smiled to herself. Not that the pot’s calling the kettle black or anything, my dear…
The problem was, although she did trust some of the group members, there were others that made her hesitate. And she couldn’t very well share with some and not others; traveling on the road was not condusive to such privacy, as she’d already learned with Alora’s little drama. She could hold off and share later, though she imagined that everyone would jump to question the delay.
Finally, just as they were about to break camp, she reached a decision. They could question her on the road, if they liked. She would share the dream but emphasize that they should go after Nathaniel now and work on deciphering it later. They needed to trust each other, and she was going to take a step in that direction. She just hoped that she, or Nathaniel, would not pay the price for doing so.
