The magic licked over her skin pleasantly and she shivered only once, delighted at the freedom there was in being touched by magic that was natural to these people, that was common and beloved. It still baffled her. She adjusted the tunic somewhat as Calla worked and, for a moment, she looked at herself in the mirror. Symon's blue and her strange silver eyes had changed back to what they once were, perhaps a sign that her connection to Asora and Emorr had grown weaker, its hold tentative. The person she saw in the mirror looked healthier, stronger, than she'd seen in weeks - though she knew she had also avoided mirrors since the fight in Aallotar, for more than one reason.
Briefly, she looked back at Kell from the mirror, and she gave him a warm smile at his approval.
Calla brought other clothes which she tried on, one by one, letting her fit them to Neria's specifications. They flattered her form very well, each and every one, and she did not know how to thank her.
The gown was the last to be tried on. It took Neria some time to step out from behind the curtain, so enamored was she with the material, the color, and the way it looked when she moved. Further still, she did not know what she would look like, and she hesitated.
But in the mirror, she looked...different. The tops of her shoulders and back were visible here, enough that she could see the top of the scars that ran down her back, and the whorls of the brand on her left shoulder. The person that stared back at her, even with her hair up, small strands askew from the various clothing changes, she looked foreign and strange. She appeared regal, as if she was someone important. The gown flattered her figure, even the places where she was still too thin, and the bronze accentuated her skin color in ways that hid the lingering paleness that was nearly gone.
She was silent, looking at herself, looking at this stranger. The gown made her feel...beautiful and worthy in ways she had not felt in months. Her throat tightened and kept her unable to say anything. But when she recovered, she turned to Calla. Her smile was heartfelt, if sad. "This is... I don't know what to say. It's perfect." It was a far greater gift than she deserved or could ever repay, just to look at herself in the mirror and to see this. "Thank you."
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Briefly, she looked back at Kell from the mirror, and she gave him a warm smile at his approval.
Calla brought other clothes which she tried on, one by one, letting her fit them to Neria's specifications. They flattered her form very well, each and every one, and she did not know how to thank her.
The gown was the last to be tried on. It took Neria some time to step out from behind the curtain, so enamored was she with the material, the color, and the way it looked when she moved. Further still, she did not know what she would look like, and she hesitated.
But in the mirror, she looked...different. The tops of her shoulders and back were visible here, enough that she could see the top of the scars that ran down her back, and the whorls of the brand on her left shoulder. The person that stared back at her, even with her hair up, small strands askew from the various clothing changes, she looked foreign and strange. She appeared regal, as if she was someone important. The gown flattered her figure, even the places where she was still too thin, and the bronze accentuated her skin color in ways that hid the lingering paleness that was nearly gone.
She was silent, looking at herself, looking at this stranger. The gown made her feel...beautiful and worthy in ways she had not felt in months. Her throat tightened and kept her unable to say anything. But when she recovered, she turned to Calla. Her smile was heartfelt, if sad. "This is... I don't know what to say. It's perfect." It was a far greater gift than she deserved or could ever repay, just to look at herself in the mirror and to see this. "Thank you."