[ Cassian can't recall a family outside of his sister. But perhaps if he did, all recollections of any father or mother - paternal or figurative - would be met with a deep well of inexplicable sadness. Sadness and anger. There's a thought that always trails after that emotion, like something inevitable that happens every time he does before it slips through his fingers like grains of sand. One that has haunted him for the last several hundred years that he can't shake.
So to hear the use of a name practically only River has any privilege to use has a shock run up his spine. It should make every hair on the back of his neck, draw his hackles up because that's what his instincts usually dictated. But it doesn't happen. Something else does instead. ]
...Istredd.
[ Gazing up at the god made of stars in confusion has less to do with what he says about River and more about the name that rolls off his tongue unbidden. Like his body had always known it and had never forgotten it like his mind had. This is how is memory returned to him. In fragmented pieces of a puzzle. With care, and patience, and love. ]
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So to hear the use of a name practically only River has any privilege to use has a shock run up his spine. It should make every hair on the back of his neck, draw his hackles up because that's what his instincts usually dictated. But it doesn't happen. Something else does instead. ]
...Istredd.
[ Gazing up at the god made of stars in confusion has less to do with what he says about River and more about the name that rolls off his tongue unbidden. Like his body had always known it and had never forgotten it like his mind had. This is how is memory returned to him. In fragmented pieces of a puzzle. With care, and patience, and love. ]
That's right, isn't it?