"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
Golden eyes watching our every move Losing time without the sun or moon
He has grown so comfortable within the darkness that it never occurred to him to question it. To watch for it within others. To him, the darkness is as encompassing as the light is for most, comforting and safe. He does not associate the shadows with a blackened soul or evil heart. Where others see them as foreboding, filled with ill-intent, he sees them only as benevolent and protective.
It is an odd way to live, perhaps. To be so closely associated with the darkness, with what others see as a manifestation of evil, yet distinctly not of that pre-determined nature. Perhaps it is why he has been alone so long, why others have avoided the dark reaches and shadowy corners he has always called home. Perhaps they believe him as blackened of heart as his skin is. As though the shadows have chosen to be terrible rather than benign things too often used by those with ill-intent.
But she does not seem to see such things, instead peering at the man he is rather than the creature he has become. Choosing to look past his darkened skin and eerie yellow gaze to the heart that beats beneath.
Perhaps if others were as she, he might have ventured from the safety of his shadows long ago.
The way her eye lights at the endless possibilities as he peels open reality causes a curious kick inside his chest. He cannot seem to pull his gaze from her as her lips curve into a delighted smile. She is enchanting like this, the emotions changing her features from attractive to mesmerizing, as though that simplest of things was all she needed to release the magic residing within her. Not magic like his, or like any other creature one might stumble across in these lands. No, something entirely different, but just as powerful.
It seems there is a great deal he has yet to learn of this world.
“Anywhere you wish,” he offers in answer to the breathy question, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. His skin shivers beneath her light touch, a faint wash of heat crawling across his dark form. A blush, though it is invisible in the pitch of his pelt. After a long moment he finally manages to tear his gaze from her. He steps forward without hesitation, allowing the shadows to swallow him with their cool welcome. He turns then, a silent invitation for her to follow him into his world.
She has often traveled in darkness, but not in the way that he is showing her. Quiet and alone, it was always easy to remain undetected when she kept to the areas light did not reach. However, no matter how much she preferred the solitude, not even she could live that way. She was always eventually drawn back towards the light, towards the voices, and the warmth of companionship. As much as a part of her desired to be it, she was far from being a living shadow.
She has never actually disappeared, however, and staring into the yawning, tenebrous tunnel, there is a mixture of wonder and apprehension at the idea of being swallowed alive. With her eyes on her newfound but already trusted companion, she follows him willingly into the dark.
It surprises her, how easy it is to enter, although if she were to truly think about it, how difficult would walking through a shadow possibly be? There is a coolness that cascades across her skin, like a gossamer veil, and it makes her tremble. It is impossibly dark, and even though her eyes cannot adjust, they are able to seek out his golden ones despite the lack of light. Drawing herself close to him, her shoulder brushing against his, her soft voice breaks the stillness of the shadows as she asks, ”Can they hear us?” She refers of course to anyone that may be lingering on the other side of the intangible shield, in the world they had just left behind. He tells her that he can take her anywhere, but Briseis has no where else that she wants to be. Perhaps to see Chryseis, if anything, but she knew her wild and chaotic daughter was enjoying her newfound freedom away from her overprotective mother. ”Maybe to Nerine,” she muses aloud, somewhat to herself, since she does not vocalize why she would pick there.
But she is too distracted; by the shadows that embrace them, and even more so by the cool skin of the stallion she has made sure to keep pressed against her own. She is captivated, and it shows in the way that even in utter darkness she is trying to watch him, listening for the sounds of his steady breathing. ”Is this where you live? In the shadows,” She isn’t sure she would ever leave them if such a gift belonged to her. She likes to think that maybe her nightmares couldn’t reach her here.
briseis. you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece
Golden eyes watching our every move Losing time without the sun or moon
It has been a long time since he has paused to consider the shadows he has so long called his own. It’s odd, in a way, to see them as though through the eyes of another. To consider them as Briseis must. What to him offers comfort and a unique sort of warmth must seem yawning and cavernous to another, empty of all things but darkness. As the portal seals behind them, he peers around with new eyes, taking in the impossible pitch of the shadow realm.
Briseis has tucked herself closely against his side, her dark skin lost amidst the endless pitch of this world. He presses closer, surprisingly comforted by her presence here with him. He brushes his muzzle softly against the curve of her neck, saying without words that he would not leave her side. She is warm against him, a living, breathing thing to counter the still coolness of the dark. He can hear her breath in the silence, recognizing with surprise that he is unused to hearing such things here. When the shadows had consumed him, they had driven away his hunger, and his breath too, he realizes. Only habit kept him breathing and speaking in the world of light. Here, he has never had need of it.
Her question brings a faint smile to his lips, his yellow gaze shifting to consider the darkness. “Only if I allow it,” he murmurs into the still hush. He could bring light in here too, he supposes. He had never needed it, but perhaps she did. It’s a simple matter to thin the veil that separates them from the outside world just enough to allow the faintest of gray lights to leak through, muted and diffused by the thickness of shadow. Enough for him to make out the shape of her features, the gentle curve of her ear.
He touches her again, his skin (as pitch dark as the world had been just moments ago) a stark contrast against the more lovely, gleaming black of hers. He doesn’t respond immediately when she suggests Nerine, as though unsure where else she might like to go. But then, she had no clue just how far he could go. Beqanna is so small in comparison to the places he could take her.
Her final question stills him, the faint warmth of his muzzle still pressed against her neck. He had been idly toying with a silken strand of her mane without realizing it, caught in his own musings (unused to company, too easily distracted by his own thoughts). He withdraws slightly, a faint frown touching his lips as he peers into the endless distance. “I suppose it is,” he answers slowly.
Then, as though recalling himself, he brings his gaze briefly back to hers before shifting those yellow eyes to a nearby point. There he peels back the shadows to reveal a sandy shore framed by cliffs, glittering waves lapping against the damp beach. They are tucked deep into a shadow beneath those towering cliffs. He does not step out, however, instead turning to consider his newfound companion. Letting her make the decision. She had requested Nerine, but they could just as easily go anywhere else or nowhere at all.
She doesn’t know why, but she trembles every time he touches her. He sends a wave of heat that washes over her like a full-body blush, and that makes her heartbeat quicken in her chest. She doesn’t know if he notices, and there is a small part of her that isn’t concerned even if he does; she is so confused by this new, foreign feeling that she isn’t sure if she should be hiding it. But she thinks it would be impossible for him to not notice how she shivers in response to his muzzle against her neck, and that he must know it is not out of fear when her reaction is to lean closer rather than pull away.
Gray light filters through, then, dim, but not at all dreary. It brings a small smile to her face, for she knows it was only done for her; she is sure he can find his way easily in his darkness.
She feels it again, the warmth that spreads like fire in her veins and fans across her skin as his lips play with the strands of her mane, occasionally finding the smoothness of her black coat. Her own lips have been lingering over the slope of his shoulder, feeling the way his cool, shadowed skin flows over muscle and bone. But she can feel the way he stills at her question, and she lifts from him, regarding his quiet gaze carefully. Her delicate head tilts a moment, noting his frown, and her lips brush gently against the curve of his cheek as she says into the hush of darkness, ”I think it’s lovely.” Far lovelier than anywhere else.
She tears her gaze from him as the curtain of shadow is pulled back, and once again she catches herself staring in wonder. They are still hidden in darkness, but she can smell the salt of the sea, can hear the waves as they crash against the jagged cliffs. She knows Chryseis is there, her pretty, gold-blazed daughter, and even though it tugs at her heart, so does something — someone — else. ”Not yet,” she says as her eyes turn back to him, her heart beating a quick cadence, the way it has so many times since the beginning of their meeting. ”You’re different from everyone else,” she says as she closes the space between them, searching his golden eyes — so close but not yet touching him again — as she wonders out loud, ”Why?” She isn’t implying that he is different because of his gift; he is different for her, the way he makes her feel and react. He is different, in such a new and wonderful way, and she isn’t ready to leave their shadow haven for the real world just yet.
briseis. you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece
Golden eyes watching our every move Losing time without the sun or moon
He is so closely attuned to her in the darkness that it is impossible to miss her subtle reactions. With no one else to share this silent space, to interrupt them from one another, there is only one thing to focus on. It makes each small movement and breath seem much more audible, more noticeable, than it might have been in the world of light. At first he had thought it simply her normal reaction to new things, to a mixed curiosity and fear. Certainly anyone might have such reactions to entering an entirely new world.
But they are alone, and with no one and nothing aside from her to focus on, it soons become clear there is something more. He can feel the subtle heat from her skin, the way she shivers each time he inadvertently brushes against her. Perhaps that is why, unconsciously at first, he had begun to touch her more. There’s something wholly pleasing in those small reactions, and as he becomes more aware of them, he grows equally more entranced, more curious.
Even now though, he has trouble putting a name to what stirs between them. It is something he has never experienced before. But he finds himself wishing to know more, to discover more. To find what causes her to draw closer rather than pull away.
I think it’s lovely. The admission brings a faint smile to his lips, an appreciation for her candor. “Me too,” he says softly, his lips hovering once more just over her skin, breath a mere whisper over her warm flesh. He skims his muzzle lightly along the sleek curve of her neck, this time more deliberately, his actions fueled by his curiosity.
She stares out into the seaside kingdom for a moment, and Ether stills, watching her rather than the view outside. When she hesitates, he shows little reaction beyond a slow blink of his yellow eyes. Her comment confuses him, and for a moment he can only stare, wondering what it is she asks for. He had always been different, but truth be told, he could not pinpoint why. Was it because he loved the shadows so well? Because he had lived a terribly lonely life? Or perhaps it was merely because he had known the love of his parents, and knew that kindness existed in the world. So many reasons and yet none at all, because surely he is not the only one to have known these things.
“I… don’t know,” he admits, a faint frown tugging at his lips then, betraying his bewilderment.
She has never been good with words the way everyone else was. She had a tendency of being blunt, and for offering no further explanation for the things that she says. Solitude had done that to her. Too many years alone, with just her own thoughts, and she had forgotten that they can’t read her mind and emotions. It wasn’t until she received confused looks that it occurs to her that she should elaborate on certain things.
Briseis realizes this at his reaction, the way he frowns just slightly and subtly withdraws. Her normally stoic features immediately soften, biting her lip before saying quickly, ”That came out wrong,” and she takes a step forward, her brown eyes soft and earnest as they find his golden ones. She was always so terrible at putting her emotions into words; showing was so much easier.
Her lips are hovering near his own, her warm breath expelled across his skin as she whispers, ”You make me feel different,” And with hardly another step forward her lips find his jaw, tracing the sharp angles of his face to his cheek and then the arch of his neck. Even the act of her touching him makes her pulse accelerate, her skin shivering as her glistening black coat almost melts with his. ”You must feel it too,” Her mouth is against the slope of his shoulder, her chest touching his, and so she cannot see his face. Her heart is hammering and she knows he can feel it, and even though she is so rarely incorrect about what she reads in others, she hopes this isn’t the one time that she’s been wrong.
briseis. you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece
Golden eyes watching our every move Losing time without the sun or moon
Everything with her is so new and different, unlike anything he has experienced before. He isn’t entirely certain he knows what to make of it, isn’t sure how she might wish him to respond. Her features shift subtly, softening almost, as he watches her, brows furrowed in his confusion. His golden gaze uncertain as she expounds on her previous statement.
She steps closer then, and he stills, his entire body freezing beneath the inviting heat of her skin and the subtle caress of her breath on his cheek, his neck. When her words sink in, his entire body blushes as he realizes he had misinterpreted what she had been trying to say. Though the color cannot show through the flat black of his frame, his skin flushes with heat, a stark contrast to the coolness of the shadow.
“Oh.” The single word escapes, colored with his surprise. His mind races as he tries to piece together a suitable response. The darkness shifts around him, melting together to hide the shores of Nerine once more. Only the muted glow is left, the light so subtle yet impossibly enticing against the dark lines of her feminine form.
She presses closer, her lips almost a brand against his skin, so aware is he of them. You must feel it too, she whispers. Suddenly everything seems to click into place. His unusual reaction to her, the shivers that race across her skin at every touch, the heat that seems to infuse him, spreading from every point of contact. Foreign and brand new, yet as timeless and ageless as the sky and earth itself.
“Yes,” he admits softly, his lips drawn almost involuntarily to the sleek curve of her shoulder, to the elegant slope of her spine. Another wave of heat flushes through him with the admission. Embarrassment at his delayed understanding, and something more. Something hot and wanting and demanding. Something he struggles to put words to, but maybe she would understand anyway.
She feels heat in his skin for the first time, before the shadows bring their cooling sensation once more. It makes her heart flutter nervously, to know that she had created such a reaction — that his body could flush warm just like hers did, in response to things she did or said. There is a tension brewing between them, one that she is familiar with and yet at the same time it is altogether different. Leilan had been bold and clear with his intentions, triggering a primal instinct that she had chosen not to resist.
But this, this is different. It is not simply primal; it is desire softened by her nervousness, a yearning that stirs but she is too shy to verbalize or act on. She notices that around her grows dark again, the image of Nerine disappearing, and if she can still hear the dull roar of the waves, she doesn’t notice. Her eyes find his face in the dim fibers of light, but she is sure she wouldn’t need the shield of his shadows to block out the rest of world right now. The air around them has grown still, and she is suddenly aware of every breath she takes, and the way her heart stumbles in her chest when he says yes.
His lips are on her shoulder, and then her back, and her breath catches in her throat at the feel of him. ”Ether,” She says his name on a breath, her black body fitting so neatly into the curves and angles of him when she presses into him. Briseis is rarely so bold to ask for anything, but she can’t recall ever wanting anything this badly. She only knows that no matter how close she is, it doesn’t seem close enough, even when her lips caress against his neck, his shoulder, and his chest, even when every trembling breath she expels is across his skin. ”If you want me, you can have me,” Her muzzle has trailed up his neck, realizing that she no longer has control over her words or her body. ”Because I want you.”
briseis. you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece
Golden eyes watching our every move Losing time without the sun or moon
He remains motionless beneath her touch, hardly daring to move for fear this might only be a fevered fantasy. But he has never known anything quite like this, never dreamed of such things. Until this moment, desire and lust had never been a part of his world. He hadn’t realized he could hunger so greatly for something, that his entire body could feel so hot and foreign. Never known that his body could belong so completely to another.
Ether. His name on her lips breaks the spell she had placed on him. He turns to look at her, yellow gaze heating to molten gold. She presses so closely to him, her soft, feminine body fitting perfectly against the broader, more masculine lines of his own. For the first time in his life, becomes aware of the distinct differences between them. Becomes aware of the needs flesh could have beyond hunger and thirst.
If he’d had any questions about whether she felt as he did, her words erase them, his mind blanking beneath a wave of desire. He buries his nose in the wild, silken tangle of her mane, his lips trailing helplessly over her skin. He presses closer, exploring her skin with his touch, suddenly finding himself wanting to explore every inch of her. To find and taste each sensitive hollow and soft curve.
“I want you,” he breathes, emboldened by her admission. She had offered herself to him, and selfishly he would take it. He should have stopped to question it, but long denied instinct now drives him, demanding he take what she’d so freely offered. No longer is he slave to the doubt and fear that has so long held him. Instead the beast that had settled in his soul so long ago rises to the surface, needy and wanting and possessive, bringing with it everything he’d forgotten he could be. He presses closer, his lips firmer against her skin now, trailing along her shoulder to her spine. He scrapes his teeth almost tenderly across her withers, mindful of their sharpness. Even the beast doesn’t want to hurt her, but it wants her to know without question she is his.
“I want you to be mine,” he rumbles, his voice dipping lower with possessive desire. As though daring her to say otherwise.
Her teeth rake longingly against his neck as he tangles himself in her mane, melting beneath his explorative touch, as she nestles herself into him. She is lost in her desire, drowning beneath the waves of it as her lips leave a trail of caresses along his neck, his shoulder, his chest — leaving nothing untouched that is within her reach. If she tried to think about how it had happened, how she so quickly lost herself to the shadow-stallion, she would never be able to find an answer — but she is unexplainably his.
It takes so much to shake her awake, to stir to life the parts of her that she has always kept hidden from the rest of the world. Briseis has always been quiet, reserved, speaking only when she had something worth saying, and oftentimes just a single sentence. She is even quieter when it comes to emotions, her face often stoic and withdrawn, careful to keep everyone out. There are so few that have seen the other sides of her, the parts of her where things like passion are kept concealed, and even then, she has only ever shown a diluted version of what she is actually capable of.
Something about Ether opens her up.
She blossoms beneath his lips, and the way his touch becomes firmer, hungrier. The response that he utters sends a rush of heat that races across the full length of her body before it settles inside of her, and the intensity of her want, her need, is reaching its breaking point. When his teeth graze the skin near her withers she bites her lip, still conformed against him even as his touch slides further along the ridge of her back, her breathing noticeably quickening as it is expelled across his skin.
”I’m yours,” And not only does she hear the difference in his voice but she feels it, like an electricity arcing between them, humming and intense. Her lips move to caress his jaw once more, his cheek, and then near his ear as she murmurs, ”So take me.” There is a breathiness to her words that is not usually there, a note that almost sounds like a plea. Through the dark her brown eyes find his, smoldering, so unlike the placid pools they had been not long ago. Here in the protective veil of the shadows, they belong only to each other — just as she is he is, he is hers.
briseis. you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece
