Buried deep in the bedrock of Harrow's soul is an axiom that vulnerability leads, inevitably, to rejection. Two counterexamples enough isn't enough to uproot it; but the ground is softening.
She savors for a moment the companionable weight of Moiraine's arm. "My devotion to the Locked Tomb is not something I wish to see changed." The words come slowly, as she picks her way through the minefield "But I believe Griddle is right, that it need not be the only and all-consuming passion of my life. I believe that is what She wished me to take from her message, too. I hope so."
"I love her," she says softly. "But I believe I must know the true consequence of her waking. It is a truth I cannot shy from. And if the cost is what I have been taught to fear... then I will pray in truth, may the rock not be rolled away. May my wait to see her face be as long as possible."
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She savors for a moment the companionable weight of Moiraine's arm. "My devotion to the Locked Tomb is not something I wish to see changed." The words come slowly, as she picks her way through the minefield "But I believe Griddle is right, that it need not be the only and all-consuming passion of my life. I believe that is what She wished me to take from her message, too. I hope so."
"I love her," she says softly. "But I believe I must know the true consequence of her waking. It is a truth I cannot shy from. And if the cost is what I have been taught to fear... then I will pray in truth, may the rock not be rolled away. May my wait to see her face be as long as possible."