He is granite, and she is gold. He is smooth and unblemished in his array of dark stars, a perfect statue that is a pleasure to view. She is tarnished and unnatural, dull and plain, but she shines when someone shines their light upon her, and she supposes that’s…enough. He is like a prince from some other world, a dimension walker who pierces the souls of every stranger with ice blue irises. Distant, perfect, careful. Always aware of the emotions that flutter within his eyes, Athena knows he hides so much from her, but she can’t wrap her mind around any of it being cruel. How can it be, when his lips curve kindly and his eyes warm under her gaze? But she feels out of place, here with him. He is perfection, and she is imperfect. They simply do not match, and Athena knows it. Wonders quite often what he sees in her that strikes a tentative friendship between them. Does he do it for a reason? Or is he truly the only unfrozen soul in this cold, cold world? He seems so warm, her Knight of Granite, and yet she is hesitant to touch him in fear she will be proven wrong. Dreads the possibility that the princely stallion was as untouchable to her as he rightly should be. Was it wrong for an imperfect flower with a few petals torn to yearn for the sun that would give it life and hope? Or should it wilt and give up the struggle? He is the sweetest peach at the topmost branch of a dangerously high tree, and Athena longed to climb towards its heavenly post even if it meant she would be hurt in the end. She’s so terribly lonely, and here he is like a shield to the cold wind of it, protecting her and warming her. Predictably, this chivalry drew her like a helpless moth to a flame, blind to the possibility of being burned.

They’re such opposites, and Athena knows she’ll never be on a level where he will see her as his equal, because why would he when he is so regal and she is so much a peasant? Even so she draws forth, tentative steps that crunch snow, sounding like thunder in her ears with the silence they only break with their breaths. She wishes he’d speak, if only to show her that he’s real and not some mirage from her lonely daydreams. As his name tumbles down her tongue, past her teeth, and swirls adoringly into the night air his boyish smile grows, and she feels as if she has accomplished a great and important feat. Velvet noses brushed kindly, sharing scents, and he is imprinted in her senses fully. In this moment she feels that maybe she isn’t so invisible, that maybe he wouldn’t mind her being at his side for company? Not her own, she would be there only for when he desired her, as she always did back in the endless sands of her home. Athena is used to being the unnoticed one, the bypassed copper coin as gold and silver are sought out in demand. Their shadows dance, pale little things that shiver and twist beneath the lights that play out overhead. They are not bound, and can flicker where they desire, but still they are limited, and cannot meet each other fully. Much like the bodies they are hooked to, there is no way they can be equals, friends.

Even so, she looks to him for guidance, this all-knowing wise son of snow. Trusting him to guide her, to protect her, even if a slowly building cynicism hisses that it is foolish to think that when she is shackled so fiercely to the land she stands upon. It is washed out by the warmth of her soul, the naivety she is reluctant to shed on her own. There is a silence that spins on, and the broken man she spies in his orbs makes her heart sink and eyes soften in sadness for him. Saying nothing, she instead listens. His voice is velvet, but his words are jagged and despaired. It is clearly an old wound, one she shames herself for prodding. Small golden fae hates herself more than she should be able for pushing, for forcing him to relive painful memories. But so long as he lends her his voice, she’ll lend him her ear. It is only fair, and would hopefully keep him from having to repeat himself once more.

The tale he had to tell was enough to keep her enraptured, emotions swirling in her features and glowing in her eyes with every turn of the story; awe over his status as King, sympathetic pain over Mirage and the betrayal the Moon had gifted his people with. Pale irises turn to her own mottled amber and her heart pounds painfully for him. What had he done to deserve such a cruel fate? It only continued to crumble as he softly continued, speaking of the faith and love he and his followers had held for her, and how she had thanked them with a knife in the back. It hurt, to hear such things, and it greatly confused her as well. How hard it was for her to imagine this cruel mistress was also the kindly mage who had granted her conference so long ago. Gaze flickered away when he speaks of her own situation, ashamed that she had followed the mistress of night so blindly. Had the celestial queen known that she would? Done it because of that? It made her eyes sting and swell with tears she wouldn’t let fall, knowing they would pass. What could she possibly say?

Nothing, for a while. Lips quivered but didn’t part as she searched all this new information for how she was feeling, trying to decide where she stood. Soft breath was eventually sucked in, and her eyes flickered up to find his once more, as if they were her anchor in a storm that had to be weathered for her own benefit. "It’s…hard for me to think of what to say…” she murmured weakly, feeling as if she’d been kicked cruelly awake. How blindly she’d worshiped the Goddess, how foolishly she’d followed her instructions into danger! "I think I always suspected…but she had been so kind to me, so willing to help me and gift me with healing, that I didn’t want to upset her. She was the only one who looked at me, who saw me…” Athena whispered, the glow in her irises dulling. "For so long I’ve been invisible…and to be noticed out of all others, and by a Goddess at that, I felt indebted to her. I think I still do. But I can’t ignore what you’ve said, Mauja,” she glanced up here, feeling weak and insignificant once more, as if she was unworthy of a shadow because she held no actual presence in the world. "I’ve never met another God. I don’t know if they’re all the same, and I don’t know if I want to. Without her though…” trailing off, Athena glanced up to stare at the pregnant moon that hung over them, as if spying on their conversation. "Without her, I’m invisible again. But I’d rather be invisible than follow someone capable of such cruelty.” Her conviction was hard to find, but it was there. A decision had been reached at last within her thoughts, and though the verdict was one she had mixed feelings on, it was not to be changed. Feeling as if already she’d been stripped of whatever the Goddess had seen in her at the Veins, Athena stared down at the flowers between her hooves, eyes sad and posture limp and defeated. Gathering the courage to look up one more time, locking eyes with Mauja to show him how sincere her words would be. "You never deserved that kind of fate, Mauja. I wish I could have helped, could have kept that from happening to you and your family. I’m so sorry that you were the product of her twisted little game.” Only now did the embers spark within her, but with unfamiliar anger she’d never experienced before. Anger on behalf of Mauja and his family, who had been innocent and loyal, loving, only to be chewed up and spit out, laughed at. It was easy to see now why Mauja disliked her, why she managed to claw her way into Athena’s insides without so much as a protest from the tiny doll. In a way she hated herself for the wool that kept her safe from the outside world, and yet put her in more danger than was good. Without Mauja, would she too have suffered such a fate?

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WC: 1,471
Notes: That sucked really bad ;___; I'm so sorry