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  • Beqanna

    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


    [private]  ...with my name on your tongue and your tongue on my... || Chryseis
    #1

    Rhaegor

    the playboy

    The sickness took longer to heal than he'd ever imagined.

    When the day came that the contagion fled from Beqanna by command of the souls brave enough to face it (mother, he thinks to himself, mother!), a small hope had grown in his feeble chest. A hope of a return to health, a hope of life and love and happiness. Hope. He pondered the term more often than not, again and again until the days bled into months, and he still struggled to be.

    To live.

    The small hope turned sour and curdled into despair.

    In vain, Rhaegor sent telepathic pleas out into the surrounding void. While he could not access the dreamlocked state he knew his mother's to be in, his absence from consciousness remained effectively as complete, his sense of reality twisting. The messages he left wavering for the minds of others to pick up on often went unanswered, or else were quickly brushed off as intrusive thoughts that needn't be attended to. Eventually, the sickling grew tired even of this minimal effort, submitting to a quiet and restful existence.

    ***

    In trembling fragments, memories of his triplets were the first to remind him of his place on earth. Mothers came next. The notion of trees, and wind, and water were quick to follow, igniting a dry fire in his throat and a caverness void in his stomach. Moonlight brought a smile. Sunshine a twitch. The face of the woman he loved wrenched his heart from its comatose state, jumpstarting his will to live with the veracity of a lightning bolt. The first thing he knew when his eyes opened was that he had to find her; the first word he silently formed with his mouth was hers.

    Dawn!

    But the name's meaning abruptly changed as his nutmeg eyes beheld the sun's rise, his lips turning up and cracking in the process. Dawn, he thought again, the word a prayer of thanks to the gods as he witnessed his rebirth to life, christened by the reds and oranges and pinks of the morning. The picture inspired rapture. Tearing his eyes away for but a moment, the stallion struggled to his hooves with outstretched wings and a rattling cough; clarity hadn't yet come to him, but for now, being alive was thrilling enough.

    Nostrils and ribs trembling, the once prince took in his surroundings, eyes lifting to the upward slope of the land around him. He'd fallen asleep in a miniature valley near the eastern border of the forest. Pines and birch trees intermingled on the slopes above, the stark reds and oranges of autumn leaves bathing the verdant green grass; in one direction, the shadows of the towering trees stretched endlessly, and in the other, the sun rose.

    Then, blackness. The stallion stumbled, nearly becoming sick as a vision overtook him. In it, he came face to face with the woman he loved, and again, his heart wrenched; when he came to, delirium claimed him, desperation written plainly across his sloped face as he awaited her arrival.

    Chryseis!





    ...my name on your tongue and your tongue on my...



    @[Chryseis]

    ...please excuse my terrible writing.
    [Image: rhae]
    Reply
    #2
    you were a vision in the morning
    when the light came through,
    i know i've only felt religion
    when i've lied with you
    and i'm still waking every morning
    but it's not with you
    .

    She had waited for him, just as she had promised.

    At first, she had waited in Tephra, because that was where she had last seen him. The volcanic kingdom was intended to be a fresh start, a new beginning, just for the two of them. Without him there, however, it never really felt like home. Their faces were all strangers, and the usually vibrant and energetic girl found herself suddenly withdrawing, preferring instead of just watch. The girl that had once placed herself at the center of attention soon found herself morphing into a wallflower. She watched as the crown changed hands, she watched as it briefly stirred the quiet kingdom into a buzz, but it did nothing to sway her in one way or another; she simply didn’t care. She just wanted Rhaegor to come back.

    Even when the first talks of war reached her ears, she could only summon a half-hearted interest. Nothing could have prepared her for the attack Loess as intending to launch. She had watched in confusion when the first firebreather had come – her brother, Ophanim, golden and sending a torrent of flames into the trees and brush, followed soon by the dragon stallion. Once the land was plunged into darkness, she had fled.

    That was what she had always done, though. She ran from Hyaline, she ran from Nerine, she ran from her father. She had never meant to become the girl that ran away from everything, and never in a million years did she think she would be the girl that blended into the background, but somehow, that was precisely who she was.

    The flames of Tephra sent her back to the mountains of Hyaline, and even though it felt strange and unfamiliar and nothing like home anymore, it still held with it an odd sort of comfort. The land was quiet now; quieter than it had been when they were children, but it didn’t feel like a bad quiet. But she still felt empty, and a little lost, and she found herself spending her nights in the hidden, small valley she had shown Rhaegor so many years ago.

    She isn’t sure why she comes to the forest today, but she leaves Hyaline when the sky is still dark. The promise of morning lingers just above the treetops, and the way the sky begins to brighten with the pastel colors of the sunrise manages to lighten the heaviness in her heart, but only minimally. The forest was alive with the colors of autumn, and the metallic of her blaze looked like it was made to be set against the golden yellows, crimson reds, and burnt oranges of the leaves.

    Chryseis. She hears his voice inside of her head, and when she freezes to a stop, her heart stills along with her. For the longest moment, she does not breathe; she does not blink. She listens, silent and hopeful, but already scolding herself for daring to do such a thing. When she moves forward again it is with cautious steps, cringing at every dry leaf that crunches beneath her hooves, and every brittle twig she snaps. Slipping through the slender trunks of the trees, she finally finds who she had been looking for.

    “Rhae,” she had meant to scream his name, but her voice fails her. With her heart leaping into her throat his name comes out as a weak whisper, and while she is at first elated to see him, it quickly turns to devastation at the state he was in. But it does not keep her from rushing forward; it doesn’t keep her from pressing her chest to his, from lowering her head to place it beneath his and curl into him in a familiar embrace. “You’re alive,” she whispers against his neck, her eyes closing as she breathes him in. “But you’re still so sick,” she says as she pulls away just slightly, just enough for her worried brown eyes to take him in again. The idea of asking him where he had been never even crosses her mind; she was far too grateful to have him home at all to even care anymore.

    chryseis


    @[Rhaegor]

    only if you forgive me cause mine was all over the place
    Reply
    #3

    Rhaegor

    the playboy

    He hears her internal scolding before he hears the snaps of twigs beneath her hooves.

    The sound thereof causes a veritable cacophony of emotions to cross the once-prince's face. He dumbly attempts to call for his lover, throat clicking quietly while his head tosses. Impatient. Needy. Feeble though he feels, Rhaegor trots - or rather, quickly stumbles - towards the sounds he now knew to be coming from the one he had called. Chryseis!

    And, all at once, it is as though not a moment has passed. With a suddenness indicative of pure devotion, the woman enters his embrace. There, Rhae feels the daggers of his bones pressing into the softness of Chryseis' flesh, becomes aware of his sickness compared to her health. For now, it matters not; nonsensical words of love and gratitude seep from his mind to hers, the prayers he'd been holding inside while comatose no longer obeying a command of silence. He concentrates most on the sound of her breathing, and the sensation her breath brings as it wafts across his gaunt shoulder.

    I'm alive, he mimics, not quite sure whether he questions the statement or issues it as a reassurance. At what the mare says next, the pegasus grimaces; a quick shuffle of his half-lost wings confirms as much as she presumes. But then, her eyes find his, and all thoughts of sickness evade him. Needily, his lips clap together and reach for hers, toying with them as perhaps he might once have, a long, long time ago in the lowlands of Hyaline. Just a quiet prince, then; lucky enough to have ran into the gold-faced girl before she found one more qualified of loving her. Luck does not begin to describe that which lead me to you, he thought to her, chin tilting back such that his eyes might meet hers more seriously. Whatever ailed me for these months, it now retreats. I'm yours, Chryseis.

    Inopportune and embarrassing, a loud rumble issues from the emaciated stallion's stomach. A sheepish expression breaks up the intimacy of the moment, but it does not succeed in making Rhaegor feel any less at home. After all, he thinks to himself privately, I am home now. You are my home.

    Trembling slightly as he steps forward, Rhae lowers his head and gestures as though to begin travelling. What do you say we continue this reunion nearer to a stream and some grass? He attempts to keep the suggestion light by shaking out his mane, but the forceful movement sends the stallion stepping sideways to regain his balance. A long huff of air follows. And then maybe we could lay down together... But I want to know, what have I missed? Carefully this time, Rhae reaches to caress the slope of Chryseis' jaw. Anything you want to tell me. I'm happy to listen.





    ...my name on your tongue and your tongue on my...



    @[Chryseis]
    [Image: rhae]
    Reply
    #4
    you were a vision in the morning
    when the light came through,
    i know i've only felt religion
    when i've lied with you
    and i'm still waking every morning
    but it's not with you
    .

    His bones are sharp where they jut from his skin and into hers, and even though the feeling makes her sick with worry she decides to push that aside for now. It was temporary, she tells herself. He just needed time to heal, and he would be back to normal. He would be the vibrant and daring prince he had been when they were children, and they would be back to their adventures and their grandeur dreams. They were older now, and their dreams were a little different; or hers were, at least. For this last long, seemingly endless stretch of time she had only dreamt of him. Wondering when he would come back; hoping that he hadn’t forgotten about her. Her other dreams – of having a home and a family, with him – had been put entirely on hold.

    “I missed you,” she breathes across his skin, her lips caressing the nearly skeletal point of his shoulder with worry. “I missed you so much.” She can feel an alien ache in her chest, a swelling of emotion that she had been keeping at bay the entire time he had been gone. Chryseis has always tried to feign strength, she had tried to ignore the unrest that twisted into knots inside her while he was gone. But something about him being back, and being in front of her caused that resolve to crumble. Now, she is raw and open, with her face buried in the strands of his mane and breathing in his familiar scent that was now mixed with all the place he had been.

    There is a muffled laugh into his neck at his suggestion, but she untangles herself from around him and nods willingly. Ducking her head beneath his wing so that it rests across her back, she falls into step alongside of him, cautious to not walk too quickly. “You mean besides missing me?” She says with a tip of her head and a flirtatious tug of his mane. “Loess burnt half of Tephra down, so I’ve been staying in Hyaline.” She casts him a sidelong glance, a ghost of nostalgia clouding her eyes as she adds softly, “It’s not the same without you, though. Nothing is.”

    chryseis


    @[Rhaegor]
    Reply




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