Addiah
Legacy Name: Addiah

It was all too much. Somehow, she found herself sobbing. How many years had it been since she'd sobbed?

"You're tired, aren't you? Why don't you rest? Let your worries drift into dreams."

His voice was so soft, so quiet. She didn't often hear it this way. Laced with charm, yes, but not quite like this - soothing, calming, in control. Sleep? She quite liked the sound of that. Perhaps it would help. It was easier to sleep. She flinched as she felt him move behind her, only to relax as she felt the warmth of his chest on her back. From here, she could feel his heartbeat. Slow, steady. There was no hesitation as his arms began to wrap around her, pulling the blankets over her shoulders to shroud her in warmth. She relaxed a little more. Softly, he began to whisper in her ear. A hand ran through her hair. Her worries began to melt.

It was easier to sleep.

~~~~~~

The Goddess awoke with a start, something she had begrudgingly grown accustomed to by now. He was gone, of course. A low growl left her lips as she rose, clutching the covers of the bed to her bare skin. It was always far too cold here. A dull yellow blazed on the horizon, its colour barely visible through the tiny window of her room. Dawn. For a moment, she glanced back to her place of sleep, considering the option of simply spending the day unconscious. No, that would never work. If she did not seek out the day, it would surely disturb her here. It always did.

Grimacing, the Goddess dropped the heaviest of her blankets, covering herself with the thinner, darker silk. She preferred silk. It felt elegant. As if adhering to her unvoiced wishes, a portion of the wall morphed into a mirror, reflecting the Goddess' full appearance. The form of mortals had always appealed to her; it was so easy to fit their idea of perfection. She toyed with her ego just a little, tightening the silk until it hugged her figure. If only the others saw her the way she saw herself, perhaps she would command more respect. Alas, no, she was not even worthy of empathy in their eyes. It made her sick. The thought brought forth a scowl, her flawless mirror image tainted by the disdain in her expresion. Enough child's play. The day may have been young, but she had much to attend to already.

Morning had just settled into place by the time she vacated her bedroom. The Goddess had to ensure that her appearance met her standards, of course. Not that the others would go near her to see it. As far as the mortals were concerned, they were blessed to look upon her but they had no idea who she was, even without disguising her true self. To them, she would only be a moment of bliss. Those who followed her ethos still did not know her face. She was too... new. For the faith that followed her to catch up with her existence, she would have to wait centuries... millennia, even. They probably still carved statuettes in the form of her mother, or perhaps even her grandmother if they were that slow. Word of mouth was a notoriously inaccurate and stunted method of updating a belief system.

The mental image of her mother brought another scowl to her lips, the thought hastily dismissed as she strode onwards. The palace corridors were dim today. She would have liked to wallow in the melancholy atmosphere, had she possessed the time. Behind her, she began to hear the scattered clacking of claws on stone, her left hand instinctively reaching down to pet the beast behind its ear at it reached her.

"Good boy," she murmured simply, her tone lacking the affection one might have expected. The hound didn't seem to mind, however, happily nuzzling her leg as she moved.

As she reached the landing atop the grand staircase of her palace, the Goddess paused, taking a moment to inhale the memories of this place. Her home changed as she did but this form had become particularly familiar in recent years. Looking down at the marble floor, she could recall many times when the others had burst in here, demanding one thing or another. Their requests were often anything but trivial, though she would still toy with them if she could - until either their need grew dire or her boredom grew stronger, whichever came first. None of them ever came here just to see her. Not that she was particularly fond of company, but that was hardly the point.

"Heel," came the sudden break in the silence, the Goddess glancing over to spy the strawberry-hued beast hesitating at the top of the staircase, front paws hovering over the edge of the first step. He was rather eager today, it seemed.