Content Warning: Dubcon minnie gets turned into a whore
Being back in the Stronghold was...odd to say in the least. She had not felt the need to step foot into this awful place. Looking around made her uncomfortable. How could a place to perfect on the outside be so rotten on the inside? It made no sense, but then, she had not returned that evening in order to ponder why such a place was so deceptive. The Stronghold was a place of bad memories and a bleak past, but this evening was not about her. She was here to celebrate Ferrah’s birthday, nothing more. That, at least, made it easier for her to push down the unpleasant emotions bubbling in her gut as she made her way down the filthy side streets of her childhood. This is for Ferrah, she reminded herself. Only for Ferrah.
There was a reason she was here, beyond commemorating Ferrah. She had done that every year since her aunt died but this? This was the first time she had the courage to come to the Stronghold itself to do it. Her plan was simple: go to their old meeting place with her paints and burn incense while she painted another, newer portrait of her aunt. It was a tradition of her own making. A time to cry, to relive, to remember, and perhaps, remind herself that she was not forgetting her aunt’s face, that the portraits weren’t starting to look different. As much as he wanted to be anywhere else but here, she refused to turn around. Ferrah did not raise a coward.
That was what she repeated to herself as she approached the one place Ferrah had always told her to go to should they ever be separated, stomach twisting with dread. It felt wrong, knowing no one would be looking out for her or even concerned where she might be now but...that was the world, wasn’t it? Full of cold, uncaring people who wanted to hurt her? The cynical voice in her head certainly agreed, even as she herself strove to find beauty in everything. It was foolish. It was the reason she’d been so afraid to come here, but this was for Ferrah.
She could be brave.
It took her only a moment to shake off her bag and set up the small vigil. The incense was lit and then she took a seat, closed her eyes for a moment and opened them to the blank canvas she intended to fill with the paints sitting by her side.
For you, Ferrah.