isolt griffin

I'm more alive than I've ever been

It had been an undeniably lovely evening, the very picture of matrimonial perfection down to even the most subtle of details, and yet some not-inconsiderable portion of the young woman had to concede a measure of relief that the festivities had finally drawn to a close. Only as she lingered in the elevator as it lifted them to their suite, her fire-crowned head resting gently against the taut plane of Damon's chest, did it become readily apart how very drawn she felt and how very taxing just this single evening of social shuffling had proven to be. However, though exhaustion had undoubtedly perched its immense heft upon the vampire queen's shoulders, she would not have forfeited the experience for anything. To have been fortunate enough to share in the marriage of a close friend had bestowed upon the worn and weary woman a modicum of hope for what the future might hold.

For what she knew that the future would hold.

Isolt shuffles lightly into the lavish suite that Damon had been insistent upon, the young woman still quite unaccustomed to the byproducts of her fiance's immense wealth even after all of these years. She had, after all, come from admittedly humble beginnings and had not yet acquired a taste for the so-called "finer" things that this new life had to offer her. Perhaps she never would. The removal of a few strategically-placed pins sends a waterfall of gossamer curls tumbling around her shoulders as the youthful vampire makes her way toward the balcony, a wayward hand running absent-mindedly through the fiery cascade as she halts at the ornate iron railing. Azure eyes, gleaming despite the near-absolute darkness, gaze across the expanse of the city that stretches out in a visual feast below them, a festival of light, color, and sound. And yet none of it succeeds in penetrating the veil of distraction cast over Isolt's mind. She looks but does not see.

She must tell him, she needed to.

It was not out of some misguided need for secrecy that the flame-crowned Supreme hid this impossible truth from her lover; no... rather she had insisted upon acertaining the truth of it for herself before imparting upon him this particular bit of news. He would discover the truth for himself eventually, for the physical evidence of his fiance's condition would soon become quite troublesome to conceal. Even so, apprehension nearly crushes her in the merciless vice of its grip as she considers all of the ways in which she might reveal this... miracle to her husband-to-be... and all of the ways that he may react.

No sooner can she indulge further the maelstrom of considerations whirling about within her mind then she feels his presence at her back. Slowly does she turn, fixing him with an enigmatically alluring glance that is, perhaps, unlike anything she has bestowed upon him heretofore, a dazzling smile spreading unabashedly across her angelic features.