"Oh, love," she says, voice full of sorrow, empathy. "It had occurred to me that Before might have so deeply wounded your being as to prompt such desire, but I had hoped otherwise."

She sets the last line of the design into place, now the dye will have to sit for a time. "I am sure that he must have done precisely that, for he felt enough at ease near the spring that he dozed off."

Her smile warms, turns a touch amused. "From his sleep, he heard someone bathing in the spring, heard a woman's voice singing softly. He knew it must be the goddess, for no one else would have dared to bathe in the spring. He did not wish Her to think he had lain in wait to spy on what was not meant for him to see, but he wanted to see her, to know the being responsible for so many wonders, for this place that felt more like home to him than any other."

She chuckles. "And I suspect that the stories saying she was supposed to be quite lovely didn't hurt his desire to see her either."