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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    where the stolen roses grow - kagerus, any
    #3


    kagerus
    and in my dreams, i kissed your lips a thousand times
    Of course, I notice immediately when her pale figure rends itself from the dreamscape back to reality; as she awakens, I am left next to something hollow and imagined, but I hold her anyways. There in our silken bed, I lie with my nails in my teeth and my knees tucked to my aching stomach. Even though it's her hour, even though it's she who deserves the pain and the beauty of this moment - I cannot help but to feel sickeningly anxious.

    I've watched a lover give birth before. I've watched as I failed to be enough for a child in the ways of motherhood. And I've heard the cries - I want to be strong enough to hear them again, but as my chest tightens and threatens to burst, I know that I am not.

    Deep breath, says a voice that I don't recognize, light, airy, a part of myself that I've never met before. Think of her, for she is your strength. And she needs you - now.

    Waking with a gasp, I'm immediately pressing my nose to Solace's swelled belly, feeling it harder than it's ever been before. A light rain falls just outside our grotto, making an earthy music in the mid night air. Murmuring words of encouragement and support, any selfish and vain thoughts I'd had in the dreamscape are absent now. My mind and heart knows only her - knows only my love for her.

    The process is long, twice as long as I'd expected, though I ought to have. Strewn across the bed I'd carefully arranged for her over the past weeks building up to this exact moment, my beautiful queen struggles and moans for the pain and exertion of it all. Throughout the process, I never leave her side once, pressing my mouth to her jaw and reminding her that these five minutes of pain will produce a lifetime of happiness.

    And when those five minutes pass, we lay in silence, the lives of our newborn children heralded by the steady song of the rain.

    "Solace," I murmur with tears glistening in my eyes. "They're beautiful." I nuzzle her, overcome with emotion. "I love you so much," comes my choked words. Sniveling, I step back, allowing the exhausted mother to heave up, to reach out and begin grooming her children. For a moment, my certainty as to where I belong in this picture wavers, and I hesitate to touch the twins - but in the next breathe, remembrance of our unity and our understanding of the queerness of this family comes to me.

    Stepping forward, I lower my nose to the colt's head, grooming him instinctively. His maleness reminds me of my own son, and for the first time as I remember Abysm, I am met with a warm, motherly feeling of tenderness, and not fear or revulsion.

    "Hello, baby," I whisper. "I'm Kagerus, and I love you, too."


    @[Solace]
    [Image: kag]
    dreamweaver


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: where the stolen roses grow - kagerus, any - by Kagerus - 05-21-2018, 04:35 PM



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