"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
09-11-2015, 12:12 AM (This post was last modified: 09-20-2015, 06:15 PM by adaline.)
your mouth is poison; your mouth is wine
(you think your dreams are the same as mine)
‘That’s not going to happen.’ She wishes that was true, but she knows it’s not. All will die, but she knows that her death would be much faster than others. Where others may have decades (or centuries, in the way of many Beqanna residents), she would be lucky to have years. Not that she simply accepted the fact, although she should. She railed against her fate with all of her might—quietly. On the surface, she remained peaceful, serene, with her dreamy eyes and soft smiles; but beneath it all, she was all storms and impossible dreams. There was adventure in her breast and hopes that impossibly filled her chest.
But she doesn’t share either the idealist or dreamer side of her, merely nodded with a shy smile at him. “Let’s go then,” she cannot deny the excitement in her breast at the idea of it. She had been so sheltered that the idea of visiting a kingdom seemed so grandiose and mighty. She only wishes that Contagion could be with her as they traveled.
She would love to see his kind eyes light up with wonder.
And so, the pair travels from the meadow washed with morning light to the kingdom. The journey is mostly silent with Adaline concentrating on the path before her, determined to make her way without falling and breaking open in front of him. (Something that seemed mortifying for more reasons than she could explain.) She wonders, for a moment, if he finds her dull company, but she does not have a long time to dwell on the fact, for before she knows it, they are there—and it is magnificent. “Oh,” she breathes in pleasure, her rosy eyes bright with her joy. “It is amazing.” The light is still soft on the kingdom, and the hills roll gently in the backdrop. It is enough to cause her heart to constrict in excitement, and she feels herself grow dizzy with it. “How wonderful it must be to live here.”
The night has faded and he had barely even noticed. Had failed to see the moon start to shrink in the sky as it retreated to it’s hideout. There’s a thin call from the early birds who can sense that dawn will be coming soon. A perfect time to head back to the Gates and showcase his home. He walks slowly beside her, not minding the fact that the steps they took were extremely slow. She concentrated so hard on her walking that it left no room for conversation. So he couldn’t help but watch her throughout the trip, wondering what it was like to be so physically breakable. What if she fell? What if he tried to catch her? Could his touch be worse than if she hit the ground? The anxiety bubbles in his stomach at the thought, not wanting to be the cause of any more destruction. Perhaps this had been a bad idea after all. Her being in his very proximity might be enough for fate to remind him that anything he touched didn’t turn to gold, it simply trickled liked sand through his fingertips.
He worries so much that something bad might happen, his gaze becoming scrutinizing with every step she takes, that he doesn’t realize they have arrived until she exclaims with her soft breathy “Oh”. His own gold-flecked eyes turn to the kingdom which is washed in the pale rays of dawn. Another night with no sleep and yet he doesn’t feel as exhausted as he usually does, her excitement enough energy to feed on. Coming to her side to view the kingdom in it’s glory, arching his neck as his head turns slightly to see her reaction. In the light of day and being so much closer to her now, he can really see just how delicate she is. The thin paper skin which has lost it’s silvery translucence when the moon had fled. Every detail of her insides is exposed to him, the edges of her wings looking more forlorn than before. The glass bones though, they still sparkle the same.
Her image is still jarring but he can’t help but feel some affection for her, the way her eyes light up as she takes it all in. He’s somewhat sheepish for it seems almost empty, as if this wasn’t a kingdom at all but an old folks home. It’s so still minus the songs of the birds who have fully awakened. ”I do enjoy it.” He admits as he finds solace in her wonder. ”I’m sorry it’s so quiet. It’s not as busy as the other kingdoms I suppose but I like the peace.” it’s not even like the Meadow which she is so use to at this point but maybe she would see what he saw and enjoy it just the same. He glances around, remembering something. ”Come this way…” He ambles by her side till they make it to the large tree in the heart of the kingdom. The trunk is massive and reaches high while it’s branches hang low and sweep at the ground. He’s still not quite sure what to make of it and turns to her to see what her take is. ”What do you think?”
your mouth is poison; your mouth is wine
(you think your dreams are the same as mine)
What he viewed as quiet, she viewed as peaceful—the kind of peace part of her longed for. The kind of peace that meant she might actually get to live past her youth. She did not see that same that he did; she saw safety and sureness and absolute. It was relieving to be in a place where she did not worry that she might be jostled and fall to the ground, where she wouldn’t be overlooked by the louder of meadow folk. (Still, there was a piece of her hear that longed for the adventure and danger and thrill.)
So her eyes are bright when she looks at him; so happy that she reaches over to nudge his neck with her delicate nose, breathing out with joy at the newness of the land washed so clean with the dawn. “I don't mind the quiet,” which is a half-truth. She didn’t mind it sometimes, although there were times when she wished for anything but it.
She wished she was strong enough to weather the loud.
When he motions forward, she follows quietly, watching her step as the grass reached up to tickle her. She paused for a second and threw her head back, closing her eyes as the warmth of the sun fell over her. She breathed in deep, the air sweet and floral. If she had to imagine a heaven, it would look something like this. Perhaps that is why the name is so fitting. She had never known. When she opens her eyes, he is by the tree, and it is majestic. The branches sweep around it, and the leaves unfurl in the morning light. “It is absolutely grand,” she breathes and she moves toward it, circling the trunk in wonder as she glances up toward the sky spotting through the leaves. “Does it have a story?”
She cannot hide the excitement in her voice; she so hoped that it would have a story.
He feeds off her joy as he can’t remember the last time he himself had felt anything so pure and light. The way she looks at the kingdom, he understands it. Understands that feeling of peace for that’s what he felt the first time he had came here, had seen what she had seen. It was always an awing experience and one he never got sick or tired of. It was even more lovely to see the way she takes in the tree. He can’t help the smile of delight that finds his lips as he basks in her wonder. So long since he had genuinely and openly smiled. So long since he hadn’t felt this heavy. If only he knew how quickly that would be taken from him. It was always ripped away. Silly boy, it would never changed.
She asks for a story and he obliges the best he can. ”Every tree has a story Adaline.” He responds quietly, his gold flecked eyes taking in the tree with renewed interest. ”But this one’s story is special. Granted I only know bits and pieces of it.” He pauses, thinking. Trying to recall what the mare had been telling her child when he had first returned home and stumbled upon them. ”Once a magician placed it here to protect the land. As long as the tree stood, the kingdom would remain unharmed by any. But then something changed. Beqanna changed. The magic left the tree and now resides here…” And he gestures with his muzzle to the garden at the foot of the trunk, littered with juicy fruits of various kinds. ”I’ve heard that eating the fruit makes the eater speak nothing but truths. They cannot tell a lie. Or sometimes grants the eater a gift of some sort. However I’ve never tried it or seen anyone eat it.”
He laughs gently, taking his eyes off the garden to look at her. ”So now the tree is just a symbol but a beautiful one. That's what I think anyways.” He is quiet for awhile, letting her absorb everything he had told her. ”You can always stay here you know…” He finally manages to say, through gritted teeth as his nerves get the best of him. ”Your story could always start over here in the Gates. With me.”
your mouth is poison; your mouth is wine
(you think your dreams are the same as mine)
As he talks, Adaline makes her way back toward his side, breaking the bubble that had opened up between them to place her cheek against his shoulder. It sounded so lovely, the idea of a tree that could protect everything around it, and her heart broke when she learned that the magic of it had slipped away, the idea of something so majestic being bled of its wonder enough to make her bones ache.
“That is both wonderful and terrible all at once,” she sighs when he is done speaking, and she looks up from beneath her forelock to the twisting, knotted limbs of the tree. “Perhaps you should eat some of the fruit, Ledger,” she teases, feeling more confident by his side than she had in a long time. “Then I could ask you all kinds of questions.” Her pulse quickens and she closes her eyes, feeling dizzy with his closeness; she had never been this close to another with the exception of her brother.
This was different. Similar and yet entirely different.
“Like what you are actually thinking beneath those sad eyes,” she pulls away slightly so that she can look him in the eyes, her breath catching, “and what you actually think about me.” She is taken back to that first look of disgust and her heart wrenches, but she ignores it. Perhaps he could look past that. Perhaps he could manage to not see the horror of her and see something else—something even she couldn’t see.
But then he suggest she stay and the world tilts below her, both fear and hope blossoming in her chest. “I could?” she asks tentatively, looking around them to where the land glowed with the sunshine. It seemed like an impossible dream that she would be able to call this home. Seemed impossible that she could be happy.
Although he craves nothing more than affection, gentle touch is not something he is use to. Magnus’s embraces and nudges were different, it was the bond between father and son that made them easy and expected. However he has never been touched by a female, not by a mother or a lover. The gentleness of her cheek against his shoulder makes his entire body go stock still, not sure if he should even breathe for fear that she will be disrupted and pull back. The muscles tighten beneath the layer of skin, looking for all the world a statue as she leans against him and speaks about the tree. There is a pounding in his ears and her words are muffled and hazy. He dares to arch his neck and tilt his head to look at her, not knowing that perhaps this is the last time he will ever be able to lay both eyes on her again. A ghost of a smile on his lips at her gentle teasing of the fruit and unable to keep the flash of worry in his gaze at the thought of such a situation. To eat the fruit and be completely exposed, unable to keep the box locked with all his horrible memories. ”I don’t quite have the appetite for that.” He laughs, a rather nervous quiver woven in the soft tones. ”But you can ask me any questions and I promise to tell the truth.” He doesn’t want to hide anything from her but somethings are better left unsaid and forgotten.
She pulls away and there is a sudden ache where she had once been. It confuses him and he looks at her and doesn’t see what he had first saw standing there in the moonlight. Although the brightness of daylight makes her less ethereal and her translucent skin almost seems to disappear, making her insides look exposed and real, he isn’t disgusted by her. Those glittering bones of her wings still sparkle and there’s something familiar about her vulnerability. It reminds him of… himself. He wants to protect her from the cruelty of others, wants to make sure that she never goes through the horror and abuse that he has gone through his whole life. ”I don’t feel sad when I’m with you.” He quietly responds as his gold-flecked eyes calmly meet her raw pink ones. And it’s true, in the short time they have spent together, worrying and carrying about her feelings and her fragile body has made him forget about himself and his own problems.
There is a flame of hope that flickers in his chest when she looks around the Gates and considers calling it home. If only he knew what danger he might be putting her into and the cruel hand of fate that laid before him… Perhaps he would have taken back the offer. He is blind to the future and can only see a world of possibilities for them both, a chance of connection and friendship and happiness. ”Of course you can stay. I want you to stay.”
your mouth is poison; your mouth is wine
(you think your dreams are the same as mine)
She dims slightly at his answer, feeling chastened although he had been kind about it. Perhaps there was something that he didn’t want to tell her—thoughts that he did not want to see. So she smiles weakly at him, shrugging her fragile shoulders. “Another time then, Ledger,” letting the moment pass before he speaks again and the bottom of her stomach drops from both sadness and joy—the result both confusing and dizzy. “You don’t?” her voice is soft and she looks up at him from a slightly lowered head. “Why?”
She wonders at what she feels around him—the uncertainty and stability, the confusion, the initial hurt that has since led into a faint glow. Adaline didn’t understand it. She barely knew him and already she was considering staying here with him, making this her home. Yet, in the back of her mind, she knew that her brother was waiting. She knew there was another place that she was supposed to call home with Contagion and the wolf-girl—the mare who made her sick to her stomach at the slightest mention.
It would be so easy to abandon that and just stay here.
Stay here with him and create something new for herself.
But she can’t. As much as she wants to, she can’t. She sees the bruised eyes of her brother, and there is something that beats in her heart for him—something she can’t ignore. “I want to,” she says truthfully, her voice bitter as she walks up to him, “but I can’t.” She presses her mouth to his cheek and lets it linger there, breathing him in deeply. “I have to go.” Her pink gaze catches his for a moment, and she has no way of knowing that their next encounter will be so incredibly different. “Find me again, Ledger.”
