you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

Vhalla was so taken aback by how firm the Faerie King was, she expected him to snap back at her. That was something the assassin was good at, pushing people so far away from her that they simply refuse to be around her. Finding nothing she can snarl back in response, she simply flops back into the grass, the dampness soaking into her shirt but she doesn't mind, her hands finding a place, clasped beneath her head. When he asks, what emotions aided her in calling her power, Vhalla's face visibly drains of color as she pushes herself into a sitting position. Fiddling with her fingers in her lap, she pauses for a long while, deciding if she wanted to tell him.

Lying wouldn't help her in the end.

So, she tells him, dreading the look of disgust that is surely to grace his features.

When she finishes, she refuses to look at him, not wanting to see his reaction. There is a tense silence that follows her story and she almost flinches when Dorian begins speaking. She's entirely taken off guard by his voice that she almost flinches; her eyes widen ever so slightly at his words. They were... not what she expected. She halts the tearing of the grass from between her legs to peek up at the faerie, her brows furrowed slightly. She had little faith they would be able to master her magic; she only feared her fire, she couldn't imagine herself ever not being afraid of it.

Though, she would never admit that to Dorian.

Her frown only deepens when Dorian smiles at her. Vhalla had never seen the King smile before, it was... disconcerting. She wasn't sure what she felt in that moment, but confidence was surely not it. She wasn't used to such uncertainty that dances across her features. When Dorian comments again, her brows furrow; she didn't think Dorian was making fun of her and it took everything she had to bite her tongue from snapping at her. She was not an emotional person, she had a very solid grip on her feelings. The assassin hadn't set any buildings on fire in years, so, that had to account for something, right?

When he suggests she hold her hands in front of her, Vhalla simply wants to sit on them instead and stick her tongue out at him, just to be stubborn but it was hard to deny Dorian anything with his calming presence. Sighing, she does as he asks, holding her hands in front of her, palms up, a brow arched at the faerie in disbelief. Muttering to herself, what the faerie was saying made sense, but she very much doubted it would be that easy. "I don't think this is going to work," she says dryly, but still, she lets her eyes fall close, releasing a sigh.

She frowns as she rolls through memories that made her happy; and she finds it to be rather difficult. Her happiness was few and far in between, it was only when she arrived in Sacrosanct did her life have any sort of happiness; though most still ended in sadness. Sam and Will had both left her. Her frown only deepens as she ponders through the memories, "This is hard" she complains but her eyes remain close. Still she racks her brain for anything. She thinks of Sam; the way her friend had taken her in.

She can feel that pool of magic in the pit of her stomach, coiled so tightly that even when she reaches out to it, attempting to coax it out, it snaps back into place. Sweat coats her forehead as her face is a mask of concentration, brows furrowed. And still, she reaches for it again and again, that magic slipping through her fingers. Scoffing, she tosses her hands in the air and falls backwards into the grass again, "I can't do it," she mutters dryly, an ache forming in the back of her head. As she lies there, she can feel that anger boiling in the pit of her stomach. Everyone she had met with an affinity had such ease with her magic, she wasn't sure she would ever have that ability.

Grunting, she folds her arms across her chest in a very child-like manner as steam begins to literally rise off of her, Vhalla completely oblivious to the heat emitting from her body. "This is hopeless, Dorian."

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered