06-26-2018, 02:43 AM
kagerus
and in my dreams, i kissed your lips a thousand times
He is exhausted, and it shows in the way he breathes and the way he wears that thin line upon his lips as if a single mote of emotion could at this point shatter the foundation of his being. The dark voice inside me cackles to see him in a state so similar to the one it had put me in, but I silence it in the same severe tone as I silenced Warrick's. We are not what those voices say we are - that is, not for as long as we fight their lies.
But then, at the mention of his accursed father's name, something snaps. Those ice blue eyes close, followed by a stretch of his navy wings and a roll of his rugged shoulders. As the toss of his head falls into stillness, those self same eyes reopen, but this time with an intensity that I'd not glimpsed before. The pressure in my chest drops, though I don't remember breathing; but his movement is gentle despite the chaos which swims in the depths of his gaze, reassuring me that I have not gone too far in my attempts to rid him of his traumas.
Thank you, daughter.
The words are far more than I deserve, but I do not rebuke them. Indeed, a warmth spreads through my chest at being called such from the man who I hold in the highest regards; for despite the frigidity and intensity of our conversation, the underlying current of our familial bonds courses powerfully. No act of war or of gods could separate us; our connection is immortal; is of a father and daughter.
He reaches for me, and I tilt my head in towards the affectionate touch. Although his eyes have taken on a hue of numbness again, there's a tenderness to his touch that inspires ever more warmth within me, and for a moment, I believe that my work here is done; but his next words chill me to the bone, and the gentle sway of my skin against his grinds abruptly to a halt.
(Scared of being the vulnerable one darling? Always the selfish whore, wanting everything for yourself and expecting others to give it to you. Warrick will never be able to trust you if you don't put out, emotionally anyways; but do you really want the world to know about me? Isn't it enough that Solace saw you literally drowning? How much more embarrassment and shame can you realistically handle? Everyone has a breaking point and I'm counting down the days until you reach yours.)
"I do." The sound of my real voice cuts off the rambling of the fake one, though it still whispers and giggles and scowls just beyond where anyone but me can hear. "I... I submitted to the darkness and its voice some time two years ago when it was brought to my attention that I will die upon birthing my first child. My character and behaviours spiraled far past eccentric and towards catatonic."
I swallow, brows creasing as I glance at him and then quickly away, my hooves sending me a step away from him as if to be near one such as I might be a disgrace to the Tephran King.
"When labor came, I avoided birth via my dreams, and -" My voice breaks. For some time, I remain silent as the words clog up in my throat and fail to gain access to my mouth. I become intimately aware of the detailing of the leaves on the ground where we stand, not knowing how to recover from this sudden inability.
(At least Warrick was able to actually talk about it. I don't even need to say anything for you to be ashamed; you just are. Fucking hilarious. What a joke.)
My brows crease further, and I swallow again, closing my eyes as if that could silence the voice. "I'm sorry, I've never - told anyone this story - in full." Solace knew it all of course, but she'd not needed to be told of the worst - she had been there.
Looking up, my nutmeg gaze grapples his blue one, hanging on for dear life as the clog suddenly gives and the words come tumbling out, desperate to be free from my throat as tears threaten to obscure my vision. "And so I watched my mate give birth to my son, and a sickness of the heart and mind overcame me - I was a mother but not, my rightful pain of birth had been stolen from me, the child was not mine - I fled the scene and entered a dream with a desperate queen, I was too tired, I shouldn't have - that night I birthed a second son as a demon used my dreams as a portal from his realm to this one." My lips suck in a huge gulp of air, but not without first eliciting a single sob. "And so by the time morning came I found myself at the lake, and - I went in."
My eyes refocus, my face draining of emotion, the tears clearing from my eyes as that all too familiar numbness settles over me.
"And I didn't try to get out."
(You should have died that morning.)
"Your daughter saved me that day. Physically. And from there, mentally, too. I wouldn't be here were it not for her; were it not for her undying love for me."
Silence befalls us, and I flit between holding his gaze and looking away. The newer, better part of me, the Queen of Hyaline wants to present a strong and united front: but the foolish, emotional girl that I'd been when I abandoned my son and attempted to kill myself is too present for me to deny her rights to my actions. So I stand, looking to him and away, terrified of his reaction especially since it was he he needed help in the first place, and not me.
But then, at the mention of his accursed father's name, something snaps. Those ice blue eyes close, followed by a stretch of his navy wings and a roll of his rugged shoulders. As the toss of his head falls into stillness, those self same eyes reopen, but this time with an intensity that I'd not glimpsed before. The pressure in my chest drops, though I don't remember breathing; but his movement is gentle despite the chaos which swims in the depths of his gaze, reassuring me that I have not gone too far in my attempts to rid him of his traumas.
Thank you, daughter.
The words are far more than I deserve, but I do not rebuke them. Indeed, a warmth spreads through my chest at being called such from the man who I hold in the highest regards; for despite the frigidity and intensity of our conversation, the underlying current of our familial bonds courses powerfully. No act of war or of gods could separate us; our connection is immortal; is of a father and daughter.
He reaches for me, and I tilt my head in towards the affectionate touch. Although his eyes have taken on a hue of numbness again, there's a tenderness to his touch that inspires ever more warmth within me, and for a moment, I believe that my work here is done; but his next words chill me to the bone, and the gentle sway of my skin against his grinds abruptly to a halt.
(Scared of being the vulnerable one darling? Always the selfish whore, wanting everything for yourself and expecting others to give it to you. Warrick will never be able to trust you if you don't put out, emotionally anyways; but do you really want the world to know about me? Isn't it enough that Solace saw you literally drowning? How much more embarrassment and shame can you realistically handle? Everyone has a breaking point and I'm counting down the days until you reach yours.)
"I do." The sound of my real voice cuts off the rambling of the fake one, though it still whispers and giggles and scowls just beyond where anyone but me can hear. "I... I submitted to the darkness and its voice some time two years ago when it was brought to my attention that I will die upon birthing my first child. My character and behaviours spiraled far past eccentric and towards catatonic."
I swallow, brows creasing as I glance at him and then quickly away, my hooves sending me a step away from him as if to be near one such as I might be a disgrace to the Tephran King.
"When labor came, I avoided birth via my dreams, and -" My voice breaks. For some time, I remain silent as the words clog up in my throat and fail to gain access to my mouth. I become intimately aware of the detailing of the leaves on the ground where we stand, not knowing how to recover from this sudden inability.
(At least Warrick was able to actually talk about it. I don't even need to say anything for you to be ashamed; you just are. Fucking hilarious. What a joke.)
My brows crease further, and I swallow again, closing my eyes as if that could silence the voice. "I'm sorry, I've never - told anyone this story - in full." Solace knew it all of course, but she'd not needed to be told of the worst - she had been there.
Looking up, my nutmeg gaze grapples his blue one, hanging on for dear life as the clog suddenly gives and the words come tumbling out, desperate to be free from my throat as tears threaten to obscure my vision. "And so I watched my mate give birth to my son, and a sickness of the heart and mind overcame me - I was a mother but not, my rightful pain of birth had been stolen from me, the child was not mine - I fled the scene and entered a dream with a desperate queen, I was too tired, I shouldn't have - that night I birthed a second son as a demon used my dreams as a portal from his realm to this one." My lips suck in a huge gulp of air, but not without first eliciting a single sob. "And so by the time morning came I found myself at the lake, and - I went in."
My eyes refocus, my face draining of emotion, the tears clearing from my eyes as that all too familiar numbness settles over me.
"And I didn't try to get out."
(You should have died that morning.)
"Your daughter saved me that day. Physically. And from there, mentally, too. I wouldn't be here were it not for her; were it not for her undying love for me."
Silence befalls us, and I flit between holding his gaze and looking away. The newer, better part of me, the Queen of Hyaline wants to present a strong and united front: but the foolish, emotional girl that I'd been when I abandoned my son and attempted to kill myself is too present for me to deny her rights to my actions. So I stand, looking to him and away, terrified of his reaction especially since it was he he needed help in the first place, and not me.
@[Warrick] KAG SAD.
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
dreamweaver