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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


    just let me cry a little bit longer, sunny
    #1

    DAWN

    i just killed off what was left of the optimist in me

    As ever, she finds herself wandering when she cannot sleep at night. 

    Darkling is safe in Pangea with his father, and for once she does not let her mind wander two her four other children, left behind in the Cove. She knows she has to visit soon – Isilme ruling the peninsula alone makes her nervous, as the girl is so young for such a responsibility – but for now she doesn’t dwell on her eldest child ruling a territory. Her mind is as far away as the stars as she leaves the east behind, traveling on large white paws as often as golden hooves. She will return by morning, most likely, but for now she puts her duties behind her. 

    She considers turning towards Tephra, where her mother’s friend is queen, but she doesn’t want to go sniveling to Leliana with her problems once more. It seems she has no end to them, even when her life feels at peace for the first time in years. It’s not like Rhaegor is there, either – there had been no sign of him before the war ravaged the volcanic kingdom and she’s assuming no sign of him since, though where he disappeared to is a mystery even to Dawn. She once believed she knew him better than anyone else in the world, but now she isn’t so sure.

    The golden mare arrives on the banks of the river and shifts back to horse form, splashing into the summer-warmed waters to cool her sweaty hide. She swims for a few minutes before drifting back to shore, climbing the bank and shaking the excess water off. The moon is bright overhead as she grazes peacefully, and though she isn’t alone in the common lands, for once she lets herself feel entirely alone. She doesn’t know if it will stay this way, but she certainly wouldn’t mind some company.




    @[Rhaegor]
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    #2

    Rhaegor

    the playboy

    Sickness chased him relentlessly. Despite the warmth and joy of his return to Beqanna, his return to health proved more tedious; whatever strain of the plague found its way into his blood so many moons ago begrudged him his wellness. Nights spent at Chryseis' side often dragged on sleeplessly, and the days thus fell to shambles too. Not always to be certain - but always, to be certain, when it finally seemed as though he might be healed.

    Of course, during the interim of half-healthy half-sickly, much... rejoicing... was had between the two lovers. Rhaegor liked to joke about such activities being his strength-and-stamina training, considering that he still couldn't gallop properly without popping a lung, or something as equally dramatic and far-flung. For a half-dead, family-less twerp, he certainly maintained the roguish attitude of an utter teenager. At least, he did as much as Chryseis would tolerate - but like any male, he found amusement in pushing each of her boundaries.

    Suffice to say, all was well in their little world; sickly, sexy, miserable, and wonderful, at any given point.

    At tonight's point, however, sleeplessness once again kept Rhaegor company. His lover's gentle snoring no longer played to the tune of his favourite lullaby as he usually imagined, but instead felt like needles in his ears. Hypersensitive as he sometimes tended to be, the mute eventually found himself rushing to his hooves, overwhelmed by a fire-like urge to be away from the surrounding stimulus. An unexplainable impulse.

    So, with a quick press of a thought to Chryseis' mind (she by this point had become accustomed to the insomniac's wanderings), he set off.

    The moon followed the stallion like a curious and toddling child as he meandered from forest to creek to river. Night-animals cooed anxiously at the sound of the veritable behemoth's treadings, but their noises simply provided Rhaegor some background music to his night's escapades. Before long, he found himself splashing contentedly into the warm thigh-high waters, oblivious to his surroundings. As easily as his hypersensitivity clicked on, his hyperfixation replaced it; and, without noticing the breathtaking woman standing just to his right and on the bank above, the once-prince played a game on his own.

    Splashing, dancing, and phantom-laughing.





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

    [Image: rhae]
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    #3

    DAWN

    i just killed off what was left of the optimist in me

    Until recently, she had completely forgotten what it is like to have fun. Her adventurous day with Valek had been just that – fun, adventurous, and completely irresponsible. For so long now she has had so many things on her plate, and her children just barely begin to cover that. Having five children in such a short span of time – six, if you count dear Ori, who had never returned from Loess – has forced her to grow up at quite the young age. Caring for them and the Cove and dealing with the emotional fallout from the Tephran war has left her exhausted, physically and mentally, and some days it is all she can do to just keep going every morning.

    The moon has barely moved from its place in the night sky when she hears the splashing, and lifts her head curiously to see who could be taking a dip at this late hour – other than her, of course. When her eyes fall on the blue-marking buckskin stallion – so familiar, and yet so alien to her – it takes everything in her not to gasp, because it is as though she is seeing a ghost as she watches the man play in the waters, completely oblivious to her standing not twenty feet away.

    She wonders briefly if he’d even recognize her – the years and bearing children have changed her body, though she is just as muscular and put-together as ever – but the thought has already died in her mind as she steps closer to the swirling waters, her hooves sinking into the muddy bank with soft squelching noises. Surely, he’s noticed the sound by now, but he doesn’t turn towards her, transfixed in his games, the games that she had once joined in on so fiercely.

    The golden woman slides into the water once more, a soft smile on her lips as she draws nearer to him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you so carefree,” she says in lieu of a traditional greeting – or throwing herself into his embrace as she longs to do so badly. The last time they spoke, she had professed her love for him and he had turned away from it, breaking her heart in ways that have yet to mend. What will he do now?



    @[Rhaegor]
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    #4

    Rhaegor

    the playboy

    Life, he decided, took up too much time being difficult. If the universe deemed it acceptable to crush him at every turn, he found it only reasonable to thumb his nose at the universe by enjoying himself (even at the strangest times). In the wake of a terrible sickness, he found joy in boyishness, in unresponsibility, in all the things he once prided himself on avoiding in the name of princehood and muteness. The steadfastness of his lover left him with a too-secure foundation, one that he unknowingly pushed and prodded more and more each night.

    Most of all, this night.

    At the first note of her voice, the stallion spooks. Water shoots every which way as his legs (just before playful and confident) stumble in the warm river, catching on smooth rocks below. He immediately thinks of his mothers - Kagerus? Solace? Mother? But when his brown eyes attach to the figure as she steps out of the gloom and into the moonlight, he knows she is someone else entirely. Not mothers - but still beloved.

    He brings his consciousness against hers, briefly - but at the sound of her true voice, he mentally retreats. Feels the seal of his lips as heavily as he did the first time he tried to speak. When she slips into the water, her gold pelt gone silver beneath Luna, Rhae catches his breath. Feels it in his hands like melted flowers, thick, unruly, demanding attention. She (Dawn, Dawn, Dawn!) murmurs of his new, carefree disposition.

    Boyish.
    All the things he once prided himself on avoiding.

    Bitch.

    The memory of that word being put in the space between them (whether she knew it or not) stills Rhae's body but only acts as a catalyst to his chaotic but privately had thoughts. Where he should have been rushing forward to embrace the woman he loved (the woman he so desperately, irrationally desired), only the sound of the midnight river stood. Running. Trickling. Warm.





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

    [Image: rhae]
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    #5

    DAWN

    i just killed off what was left of the optimist in me

    She should have realized that speaking would startle the mute boy, but she can’t help but giggle when he spooks, water spraying all over the pair of them as he scrambles to find his footing in the water. She feels his mind brush up against hers – an ability that is new to her, but she remembers his parting mind-whisper when he left the group in Tephra, as easily as if it had been just yesterday: I didn’t want to lose you either. She wonders if his newfound power is one that makes communicating easier, and as the silence between them persists, she wonders how to speak now.

    Is this easier for you? she thinks, her dark eyes meeting his as she waits for confirmation. Drawing closer slowly, she reaches out to brush her nose against his shoulder, hoping he doesn’t draw away this time. It has been so long, so, so long, and she wants him to pull her into an embrace and she wants to never let him go again. The years have changed her, shaped her into a queen and a mother, and here is the one thing left that reminds her of happier days, even if he also reminds her of the worst days of her life.

    I’ve missed you, she thinks, closing her eyes and drawing in his too-familiar scent. So much has changed since we’ve seen each other last. She wants to tell him of her children – of Isilme and her ambition, Austra and her shyness. She wants to explain how Nolin and Athena, though twins, are so different in so many complex ways, but they complete each other only as twins do. She wants to gush about Darkling, her perfect little shadow boy, and tell him about all of the things that have occurred in the past few years.

    But the golden girl holds back – she doesn’t want to overwhelm him, or frighten him away. A part of her wonders if his really is Sunny, or just a figment of her imagination. She wants him to be real so much, but she feels as though this may just be too good to be true.



    @[Rhaegor]
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    #6

    Rhaegor

    the playboy

    Her laughter reminds him.

    Images fly behind his eyes, distorting what he glimpses of the present; all at once, he's in the playground again, his first outing sans triplet siblings. Somewhere behind him, his grandfather stands, languidly keeping watch of his own father's namesake. Beyond Kavi's familiar scent, everything is new to the little prince. New. And loud. And - coming to him in the shape of a young girl. Gold-skinned as he is. As unapologetically accepting of his silence as the moon to the sun. Sunny, she dubs him. It's not quite Ray but he didn't complain - and he never did as the months passed.

    Years.

    A childhood ripened by friendship.

    A teenagehood rottened by flirtatiousness and recklessness.

    An adulthood fermented by confusion - second thoughts.

    How easily she laughs at the dumbfounded boy, stumbling as he does through the shallows. No amount of willful aloofness could make this situation laughable for Rhae. As much as he wants to give in to the ripeness of their youth-years (to the memories of the past which could easily become the present only to be memories once more), something holds him back. Someone. Everyone.

    Himself. Chryseis. His family. The emotionally-driven thoughts of children that run murkily through Dawn's cognitions. Each one another piece in the puzzle that is their endlessly interwoven live - except most pieces don't match. Not just here - but everywhere in Rhae's life.

    Why hasn't he sought out his family yet?
    Why hasn't he sought out Tephra yet?
    Why hasn't he been honest about his feelings yet?

    The severity of his confusion increases as he feels the gentle probing of her mind towards his. Perceptive Dawn, hearing his internal voice as well as she always had, even before he earned telepathy. Rhaegor flinches, meeting her gaze with hostility. Something sends him skittering away from her touch yet again, as though wounded at the exact point she had reached for; the vulnerability she expects of him only reinforces the defenses he's been so steadily and unknowingly erecting. Her simple love from him calls into question every decision he's made - maybe ever.

    Eventually, her thoughts quiet, and her body stills. Rhae finds himself with three planted legs and one raised in mid-step, withers flinching repetitively. Seconds bleed into minutes as a storm of words jostle for the right to be spoken. Many times, the perfect phrase comes, and it repeats over and over in the private corner of his mind, phrases like My love for you has never changed and I'm scared it never will and I can't cope with the thought of ever losing you again, please, please stay with me and No one knows me like you do and that terrifies me.

    She'd asked for his vulnerability, had reached for their once-physical connection in a hope that perhaps it remained.

    His silence speaks to a hidden panic (panic at his inability to speak to his own best friend, panic at being disabled, panic at the decisions he's made that brought him here and panic at where the decisions he makes now will take him, panic because even if he could speak he wouldn't know what to say, panic because he loves her, god he loves her). The world around them seems to shrink. Nothing exists now except them, this river, and the trees. A peripheral existence, not seen from straight on.

    At long last, some words break through the barrier.
    They aren't as climactic as he would have liked.
    He's not as bold as he is in his dreams.

    I'm sorry, he thinks to her. The cool brown of his eyes remains steadfastly attached to herself. Tethering him to this reality - loosely. I hope you understand...





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

    [Image: rhae]
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    #7

    DAWN

    it must be about as hard as forgetting your best friend

    She had never expected their reunion to go quite this way, but by now she should be used to him shying away from her touch. He flashes back to their first meeting, where she had dubbed him Sunny, but her mind flashes back to that night in the Cove, with him pulling away and the anger that crossed his face and was gone as quickly as it had come. Bitch. She had pretended at the time not to hear, but now it is the only thing she can hear echoing across her mind, and any semblance of amusement fades from the golden unicorn’s face as she trembles, stumbling away from the man that once, she had loved as purely as the moon loves the stars.

    Dawn doesn’t miss the flinch, nor the hostility on his face as he glares at her, and even as he shies away she is stepping back, back towards the shore and further away from him. He doesn’t want her touch, physically or mentally, and it breaks something deep down within her. She doesn’t understand – maybe she never truly understood the beautiful prince; maybe she had only loved him selfishly, and claimed him as her own when he has never belonged to anyone or anywhere.

    Maybe they aren’t meant to fall back into their old careless ways – maybe they’re too old for all of that nonsense now, and all of the innocent love they shared as children has faded into the backs of their minds.

    She is so wrapped up in her own internal panic – though it displays itself oh so externally as well, with heavy breathing and sweat beading along her brow – that his own silence is deafening as he stands there, a leg raised as though to flee if she were to draw nearer again.

    When the words finally break against her mind like a wave breaking the shore in the Cove, she trembles and steps back again, shaking her head as if to clear his connection from her mind. No, she thinks, trying to restrain the tears that prick at the corners of her eyes. No, no, no. She squeezes her eyes shut tight as her hooves met solid ground, and it takes her a few more moments to open them and meet Sunny’s eyes, feeling her heart breaking again. “I can’t,” she whispers as a single tear traces its way down her cheek. “I can’t understand.”

    I can’t understand why you keep leaving, why you keep breaking me every time, she thinks, trying desperately to throw up a barrier, to shield those thoughts from him. She wants him out of her head. She can’t do this anymore; she can’t keep putting herself through hell for someone who refuses to open up to her – she can’t, she can’t, she can’t. She loves him so desperately that it is shattering her very soul, but she needs him to give at least a little.



    @[Rhaegor] i literally can't stop crying now
    clean.
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    #8

    Rhaegor

    the playboy

    His actions - transparent expressions of his internal turmoil - send her skittering away. Even before the catatonia lays claim to her mind, he senses her resolve crumbling. All at once he sees split realities, futures where he is with her, where he is with Chryseis, where he is with someone else or no one at all; he sees children of various parentages and he sees happiness with every potential partner but heartbreak too. The unavoidable weight of precognition groups itself between his shoulder blades and bears down, crushing him with a persistence known only by the parts of himself most intimate with pain and fear.

    In a moment, they both spiral into a panicked delirium, each suffering the consequences of not being able to control every aspect of their existences. A curse for every mortal, he imagines calmly, as though only a viewer to his body and mind's sudden decay. Dawn barely speaks. But her mind races and its racing does little to slow the ever-rising flames which lay claim to what remained of his confidence and self-compassion.

    I don't fucking understand either Dawn and I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I can't be more for you, that I keep breaking you every fucking time, it's not what I mean - I never wanted to hurt you - I'm so fucking scared of hurting you - and I always have been. A pause, its silence seeming to ground the pair for a moment. But Rhae's thoughts continue, projecting into his soulmate's mind despite her reluctance to hear him. I'm sorry that I love you and I'm sorry that I'll never be enough, I can't live with the thought of hurting you and maybe that's why I always do.

    That statement brings him to a full stop.

    The wind blows somewhere above them.

    The river runs near.

    It is nighttime, he remembers; Chryseis is sleeping, he remembers; and I am here, he remembers...

    For the first time, his eyes meet hers - really meet them.

    His voice rasps dejectedly when he speaks.

    "What is there for us, even if we do choose one another?" His eyes trail to her barrel. "I am a nobody. I am barely a man. And you have children. And a kingdom." The admittances leave him wounded, deflating. "Tell me that the logistics support this, Dawn."

    "Tell me that my love for you in this version of reality is worth anything beyond being a catalyst for suffering, when the universe insists on tearing us apart."






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

    [Image: rhae]
    Reply
    #9

    DAWN

    it must be about as hard as forgetting your best friend

    She tries so desperately to build up her defenses to keep him out, but he crushes them effortlessly, grinding her walls into dust as if they were the dried, crumpled leaves under her feet. A strangled gasp escapes her as the tears begin to flow in earnest, and half of her is tempted to flee and put this all behind her. Half of her wants to forget that this moment has ever happened, though she knows that it will be imprinted in her memories forevermore. She can’t run from this, she can’t hide from it – it seems that this is going to be their destiny, always breaking one another’s hearts over and over and over again.

    He apologizes over and over again and Dawn can feel her heart seemingly shattering in her chest, even as he forces the words into her head. I love you echoes the loudest and she swallows hard, trying to imagine what their life would be like if he had never found Chryseis; would they be happy? Would all of her children be his instead? Would they be living comfortably in Tephra now, or would they bring as much peace as possible to the East? Would she go to sleep tethered to his warmth every night, instead of waking up alone and cold?

    The silence between them grows as the world goes still around them, as though they are the only two beings in existence. When his chocolate eyes meet her own she feels calm; though the turmoil still lurks and the tears that stain her face are still fresh, all it takes to slow the panic is for him to truly look at her. Something within her clicks into place and she realizes that this is why she has always been so distant with Lie, with Clayton – they were companions, but nothing more. The broken man standing in front of her has always been the one, and as she understands this a peace washes over her, even as he opens his mouth to speak.

    “Rhae,” she murmurs as his eyes leave hers, wanting to return to his side but afraid to frighten him. “I will always choose you.” She stops to let that sink in, her eyes never leaving his perfect face.

    “If you’re just a man, I am but a woman,” she tells him, voice soft. “When we met, I was nothing more than a peasant girl and you a prince. If I’ve learned anything over the years, titles mean nothing. As for my children? I have mothered them well; one of them rules the Cove now, and the only one still at my side is Darkling. I am sure that soon enough, he will be off on his own as well. They are strong, all of them, and they are not tethered permanently to my sides.”

    She longs to touch him, to run her nose down his neck and ruffle the feathers where his wings meet his shoulders; even amidst the heartbreak, she is desperate for his touch. Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, she takes a single step forward, back towards him and the water swirling around him.

    “Knowing that you love me will always be enough for me,” she whispers. “I would let myself be torn apart a thousand times in a thousand ways if it meant I could spend the rest of my days at your side.”



    @[Rhaegor]
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