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all the weight of my intentions; offspring <3 - isle - 04-01-2016 hold my hand, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river Isle RE: all the weight of my intentions; offspring <3 - Offspring - 04-02-2016 BROTHER, LET ME BE YOUR FORTRESS, WHEN THE NIGHT WINDS ARE DRIVING ON. I CAN BE THE ONE TO LIGHT YOUR WAY; I WILL BRING YOU HOME.
The winter had been brutal and insufferable for many - mostly those who had not yet acclimated to its ferocity and intensity, especially the thick blizzards of flurries that traveled through and the whipping winds that followed. His mass of muscle and fur had left him with a strong defense against the colder elements, but now he had simply become one of them. His flesh was more often than not covered in a sheen of frost (especially when venturing into warmer territory, which he now felt was more uncomfortable than ever) and there were always thick, albeit small ice crystals hanging between his tangled tresses. He had become one with his own kingdom, and it suited him well. He could not imagine leaving its icy embrace, for it brought him more numbing comfort than any other land mass ever had. The memories of his loss and devastation had ebbed - his mind was much more rampantly filled with the concerns of others, with the welfare of those who would carry the world on their shoulders for decades to come. Time was fleeting, and with every day that dredged on, he'd become more and more acutely aware of it. His weary body moved through his altogether familiar kingdom, dark eyes traveling along its familiar walls of ice and waning, melting piles of snow, which trickle away beneath the bright, warming sun of spring. It is difficult to believe he had been away so long, so often - diplomacy took time, days at a time, and winter had come and gone before his very eyes. A melancholy ache rose in his chest as he thought of his precious Isle, who he had only been able to steal away between the evenings of his leave, trailing soft kisses and unspoken words. It had been tense and terse between them in the past months - she, struggling with the weight of his responsibilities, and he, struggling with the pressure of caring for so many. They had drifted, separated, and though he had seen her at a distance, he now only craved her touch. He could feel himself growing more tired by the moment - he had not rest much, intellectually or physically, and he wanted nothing more than to melt against her and allow his tense worries to melt away. Wordlessly. He could not burden her with his heaviest thoughts, for she was gentle, fragile and he wanted desperately to protect her. He wanted to offer her solace and comfort; not trouble her with his obligations. His hefty weight left thick prints in the melting top layer of permafrost, small specks of green peeking out from beneath the slush that lie across the flatland. Another reminder of time. The death of the land had resulted in the birth of a new season, and he had been away for most of it. He wondered, as his crimson eyes strained and bored into the valley, if she had gone. Would he have noticed? A lurch within the pit of his stomach told him no, and a heavy wave of dread washed over him in the form of thick ice, which encased his spine and tangled itself between the individual hairs of his mane. He would not have noticed, for he had been too preoccupied securing the future of others - and himself. He missed her, gravely, and would be swept with angst and anxiety if he were to find she had gone away. He could only hope that she understood he had not stayed away on purpose. Alliances were of such importance, and once established, would result in safety, in growth, in comfort. He wanted nothing more than to provide that for his men, and for their women. For their children. Still, he had spent too much time away, and his bones and heart ached for her again. The bleak morning light bathes the terrain in its warmth and pure illumination, causing the melting ice to reflect brilliant hues of red, blue and yellow, welcoming him home and he cannot imagine anywhere else he would rather be. He searches still, nostrils pressed to the breeze as he tries to catch her sight, his eyes peering to catch sight of her - to no avail, until .. he can feel his heart skip a solid beat, and she is there. Relief floods through him with such intensity that he finds himself overcome with emotion for a moment. His lazy stride turns into a hefty trot as he closes the space between them, but pulls himself at a full stop as he takes in the sight of her. She is beautiful - ravishing, even - awash with light from the pale morning sun, highlighting her soft, feminine features - her bright, albeit uncertain eyes - her thick, voluptuous and now heavy curves. He stares for a long moment, stunned - the breath escapes him, and he forgets to breathe. Her warmth presses against him, and he draws her close, though his eyes never move away from the obvious, swaying swell of her belly. Her kisses (he had missed them so) trailed along his neck and his jawline, and her sweet, soft words (the first he had heard in many months) ring in his ears. Father? The word was bittersweet. He had been a father many times, and the familiar anxiety of loss begins to flow through his veins, filling him with apprehension. He could remember their sweet, innocent lives - the way their innocence painted his days with broad strokes of hope and affection. He remembered their undue deaths, the way losing them weighed so heavily on him. Eternity was a long time to spend alone, to spend waiting for the inevitable end of the ones he loved. He tries to shake it (steeling and burying his thoughts, not wanting her to see), his lips moving to travel along her own neck, though his eyes remain settled on her belly. On her pregnant belly. He thinks of Thaniel, of Maribel, of the closeness he has gained with each of them. He thinks of the soft kisses of the beautiful mare standing before him, revealing a secret she was evidently tentative to give away, and how he had once thought love was something he would never find again. His lips touch her shoulder, and then he steps forward to touch the bridge of his nose to her belly, to nuzzle and nudge it, before he looks to her again, wide crimson eyes inquisitive. "Isle, you're pregnant? How have I not known?" The past slips away, evoking regret in the depths of his chest. How did he not see it sooner? "You look stunning," He murmurs, his lips to her ear now before he nibbles along the length of her neck, drawing her close to his chest. "forgive me for not seeing this sooner. You're really pregnant?" He knows the answer, but he needs to hear it. The weight of its reality dangles over him, and there is wavering hope on the edges of his deep bartion. He knows the consequences, he knows what the future holds - but time is fleeting, and he desperately hopes she says yes. OFFSPRING the ice king of the tundra
RE: all the weight of my intentions; offspring <3 - isle - 04-02-2016 hold my hand, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river Isle RE: all the weight of my intentions; offspring <3 - Offspring - 04-02-2016 BROTHER, LET ME BE YOUR FORTRESS, WHEN THE NIGHT WINDS ARE DRIVING ON. I CAN BE THE ONE TO LIGHT YOUR WAY; I WILL BRING YOU HOME.
He feels breathless in these moments; speechless. Her radiance draws him in and pulls him closer to her, and it is within these seconds caught as a glimpse of the hundreds of thousands of minutes he has spent living that he finds himself lost. There is nothing around their existence that can possibly pull him away, distract him or perturb him - he can feel the weight of the world still settled firmly on his shoulders, and yet simultaneously, his heart feels alight with a fire that now burned brightly within his chest. He had longed for this moment for so long (for a second chance), and to have its fragility within his grasp was both invigorating and terrifying. His lips travel her shoulder as she falls adoringly against him, and he loses himself in his thoughts as he observes her swollen belly again. Their passionate time spent together had blossomed into something breathtaking and beautiful - a miracle that could only add to the glistening glow of pride and enthrallment that begin to fill his veins. A welling giddiness lingered in his throat as his kisses became more pressing; his eagerness more present. Her words echoed in his mind again - I am definitely, really pregnant - drowning out his immense doubt and overwhelming guilt of not having noticed sooner. She forgives him, graciously, lovingly and he decides in that moment that there could never be another like his precious, dappled Isle, who he so adoringly begins to rain affection upon. "You have no idea how unbelievably happy that makes me." He murmurs feverishly, eager for her to hear the captivation and enchantment in his deep baritone. "There is no better news you could give to me. I only wish I had realized sooner." The sunlight begins to wane in their presence behind thick, rolling clouds, but their mingling joy is the only light he can feel for miles. Her murmured promises of devotion warm him to the core, in spite of the ice that lingers just beneath the surface of his marred, scarred flesh. He could not ask for anything more, and he too was devoted to giving her what she so desperately needed. A thick pool of lava now filled a nearby cave; a promise of warmth and comfort when he could not be there. A merciful gift given by an allied King. And soon, another ally would deliver upon a similar promise - the hearth of a bonfire to mingle near, to bathe in the light of during the darkest, loneliest months. He would build up their dwelling to be everything that she needed, and in time, his own time would be hers again too. Yet somehow, she managed to be empathetic to his valiant efforts and he could feel her veneration to the very depths of his bone marrow and it urged him harder to do everything within his power to meet her few, meek needs. A tremble ripples through him as the bridge of her nose touches the sensitive skin of his leg, crawling across his obsidian pelt and through his nerves. She curls into him, and he drapes himself over her once again, as they always did when they came together. Whether apart for minutes or days, their sessions of affection and adoration always began the same way - hot, lingering kisses and gentle caresses. He told her many things with his touches that he could not say with words. He was a well spoken man many a time, but with her, he so often found himself speechless. Unlike now. Mirth bubbled up from within, overwhelming him to his very core. Though he had grown close to young Maribel and Thaniel, fatherhood was a word that was all encompassing - and to experience the birth of his own again - it was more than he could have ever hoped for. Though a small pit of doubt simmered beneath the surface, his delight could not be dampened by the fear that would eventually be drawn to the surface by time and its inevitability to destroy every shred of happiness it could grasp onto. His joyousness began to fill every crevice of his being, welling up again as he began to pace around her, nose pressed to the feminine curve of her hip, nudging the swell of her belly again (feeling the movement of life within her) and he is altogether bursting. His glee begins to seep out from within, washing him with a thick blanket of ice and frost as every square inch of him becomes encased within its icy embrace. It travels swiftly across his skin, tangling itself within the individual hairs of his tresses - both mane and tail, braided with ice crystals that develop quickly into small shards of ice, reflecting the delicate light of day. The ice follows the lengths of his legs as he circles her, breaking away and falling away from his skin before growing again - a never-ending cycle as his glowing excitement becomes evident through ice and sleet. He barely realizes he has become enveloped in the very same material as their age-old walls and the slush that remains at their hooves; he is too enamored with her to pay it any mind. His lips - icy cool to the touch, and yet still warm - trail along her skin as he presses whiskered kisses to her cheek, to her jaw. "I have too," He whispers against her dappled, perfect pelt, nostrils pressed against her warm skin as he inhales her familiar, intoxicating scent. "and I want nothing more than I want this. You will be an incredible mother, Isle - you are radiant, inside and out, and generous and kind and there is no one I could possibly imagine loving our child more. I wonder if it is a boy, or a girl," He muses softly, but it matters not. "and when they will come. I will be here. I promise you." A promise he had made before, and failed upon - but she did not know this, and he would not fail again. OFFSPRING the ice king of the tundra
RE: all the weight of my intentions; offspring <3 - isle - 04-05-2016 hold my hand, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river Isle |