shri: (» people talk to me)
lakshmi· ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴅɪsᴀsᴛᴇʀ · bai ([personal profile] shri) wrote in [community profile] station72 2017-10-07 11:04 am (UTC)

"Had, yes, I did." She threads the material of her veil between two of her fingers, as she thinks, speaks, smoothing the motions out to measured pace and measured words. "I grew up in Varanasai, in what you would call India, I suspect."

The veils glitter, swinging with the gold. "My father was a poor man, and my mother died when I was young. I married when I was 13, to the Maharaja of Jhansi. Jhansi is a kingdom, far into the deserts of Bundelkhand. From then, that is where I resided."

It is without emotion, as it ever happens. The story of another woman. Or else, what is her option? Weep over it? "I bore him a son. The one. He..." a pause, and that, she cannot pretend over - that, she blinks, looks at - something. A place not here, not Shepard, not herself. The flicker, of a little boys laugh. "We adopted another, a year later. I had to leave him, after the war." The material unwinds and she lets it sit loose in front of her. "I do not know if my father's second and my half brother survived, by I am a daughter and sister as well to them, respectively."

She might be miserable, if it were someone else that - did not know war. That was not familiar with the notion of these stories end. But they simply are.

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