"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
hold my hand, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river
Mother had warned her what it would feel like, so when she felt the muscle in her stomach rebelling against her, she knew it was time. There had been no words spoken aloud as she pressed her trembling pink mouth against Offspring’s dark neck, but he had understood. Slowly, slowly they made their way to a small cave carved out of stone and ice in the base of the mountain and disappeared inside. The tundra king had sealed the mouth of the cave with a thick wall of ice that reminded her much of the wall that protected the kingdom. It was clear enough to let light through so that they weren’t buried in the dark, but thick so that the shapes through it appeared vague and distorted. She noticed too that it didn’t quite reach the roof of the cave in one small place, ventilation so that they wouldn’t choke on too much stale air.
Time passed slowly as discomfort turned to pain and pain turned into gritted teeth and quiet moans with her face buried stiffly against Offspring’s dark shoulder. They stood together like that; her mouth on his skin, his neck cradled over her back, filling the small cave with the heat from their bodies until at last the contractions came closer together and she urged him away. It wasn’t as though he could actually go anywhere, or that she even would have wanted him to, but she couldn’t help wanting some small amount of privacy as her legs buckled beneath her and she lay stretched out and rigid, breathing raggedly on the ground. She had picked a spot by the mouth of the cave where rain and snowmelt in the warmer months had carried in dirt and sparse, brown plant - the latter of which was dead and brittle and flattened by many hooves – and where Offspring had pulled away the frost so that it wasn’t as cold as stone.
It happened more quickly than she would have thought it might, or perhaps she had just lost track of time amidst breathless groans and muscles crushed so tight she thought her bones must bend pliant and apologetic beneath them. But then suddenly she is no longer alone in the mouth of the cave and as she rises exhaustedly to turn and see her child for the first time after loving him for so many long months. The moment her eyes alight on him she is certain her heart will evaporate within her chest for the way it burns so fiercely. She is a symphony of low nickering, sounds both possessive and affectionate as she draws her tongue across the dampness of his dark body to clean and dry him. He is a perfect combination of them, she realizes, seeing the deep black of Offspring on his body and her own stark white markings spilled like fresh snow across his legs and face and belly. He is more perfect than she ever could have imagined and he is hers, he is theirs.
She nickers again, a low humming sound that tickles her chest, and presses gentle lips to that impossibly small face. They trace the curve of a delicate jaw, the arch of a neck so small and dark, trailing kisses all the while. When she turns back to his face, to fall into those wide, beautiful eyes, dark and brown and bottomless like her own, she cannot help but to cradle his small head against hers. “Argo.” She breathes at last, and her breath is warm and sweet where it settles against the marbled white and black of his damp, perfect skin. “You are my everything.”
BROTHER, LET ME BE YOUR FORTRESS, WHEN THE NIGHT WINDS ARE DRIVING ON.
I CAN BE THE ONE TO LIGHT YOUR WAY; I WILL BRING YOU HOME.
He remained as a pillar of strength for her in her time of need, and when her time came, he was there, as he had promised he would be. Stoic and stern, he hid away the grinding anxiety that lingered within the deepest part of his chest, where his heart thrummed rougher against his rib cage than usual and where his blood began pumping vigorously through his thick, sinewy body. He worried tremendously, for the last time he had experienced this - over seventy years ago - he had lost someone he cared for dearly - two, actually. His son had never even taken his first breath and had remained a crumpled, stillborn heap at the rear of his dying mother.
He tried to shake the image from his mind, he tried to anchor himself in this moment. Her warm breath on his shoulder pulled him closer to her as he draped himself over her as he always does, attempting to soothe and comfort her with his presence, with his soft kisses and gentle caresses of encouragement. She was in excruciating pain, he knew, and he could do little to alleviate it. He did what he could though to give her privacy and comfort in such harsh, icy conditions.
With a thick block of ice shielding them from the whipping, whistling wind on the other side, receded frost on the ground floor, and forced repression of glacial covering on his own body allowed his own mass to fill the tightly knit space with his own body heat.
At last, she presses away from him - and he does not question it. He pulls back a step or two to allow her room, turning his large skull away and averting his searing red eyes from her as she falls weak to her body's demands. Her gentle moans and panting grunts grate deeply onto his nerves, but only because he cannot help her, he cannot do anything but wait and listen. He is there if she needs him, if he must pull the child away from her himself, but he knows that she is a strong willed female and that she will allow her instincts to guide her. He says nothing, but allows his lumbering presence to be of some comfort.
And suddenly, it is over. He breathes in the scent of birth deeply (a confirmation; a reality sets in) and he finally allows himself to gaze at her as she lays out along the mouth of the cave, a sheen of sweat covering her dappled body but she has never looked more radiant. He peers along the length of her form, finding a small, squirming mass at the end of it – and his heart begins to pound against the old structure of his thick chest plate. The smallest form of obsidian and alabaster (and blood and mucus, but none of that matters) with spindly legs, gentle curves and fragile, youthful features moves as she croons to it, to him, he sees, and his heart is filled to the brim with an overwhelming, suffocating joy he thought he would never feel again.
The sounds of his lover nickering gently to their child, to their progeny, his heir, echoes softly in the tight confines of their cave dwelling and he listens closely. Argo. She has named him, and he could not possibly imagine any name more fitting. He steps forward, closing the space between them as he leans his thick, massive neck down; the bridge of his nose nudging gently at her cheek as he traces soft kisses along her salty skin with his whiskered lips. "He's perfect," he breathes, studying the way his son's wide, innocent brown eyes – the very same color of his mother's; perfection – bore into his own. He kisses Isle's jawline gently, his voice rumbling deeply within his throat as he bears his heart to her, as she bore his child. ”I love you, Isle.”
someday i'll soar, someday i'll be so much more, because i'm bigger than my body gives me credit for.
Everything is blurry. What was once warm, cradling comfort was now met with the cruel harshness of ice and frost, but the only thing that he could register within his mind was cold. The radiating warmth closest to him beckoned to him and he ached to move closer, arching to it as a gentle, blooming blossom stretches towards the sun.
Soon soft, gentle kisses are upon his skin and he hears the familiar rumble of a kind, loving voice. He bleats weakly in response, as his little heart hammers excitedly within the small entrapment of his newly formed chest. Her whiskered lips brush over his splattered two-toned pelt as she cleanses his skin and caresses him with adoration, and he knows instantly. Mother.
She peels the birthing sac away from his damp flesh, drying him with her tongue and he longs to be closer to her. His gaze begins to focus and he looks deeply into her dark brown eyes and her warmth overtakes him. She cradles him close and he bleats again, softly, nestling into her, desperate for her comfort. It is only then, as she breathes his name - Argo - that he sees the massive, scarred male leaning towards him.
He knows no fear, for the same grinding, gritty voice that rumbles from his chest (as he whispers those three words so softly to his mother) is the same one that so often caused his mother's heart to pitter patter so quickly, so close to him within the womb. It was the same voice that mingled many times with hers, and so he knows instantly. Father.
Everything is cold, damp and uncomfortable, but beautiful, soothing and warm, all at once.
He is where he should be; and where he would always be.
hold my hand, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river
She is transfixed by his perfectness, hypnotized by the rhythmic rise and fall of his ribcage as he remains nestled beside her. It feels impossible to look away, impossible to look anywhere but the shape of his dark eyes and the delicate curve of his wobbling ears, to trace the angles of his delicate face and the curl of eyelashes as black as soot. This feeling is incredible, if not unbelievable, that she could ever be capable of making anything so perfect, of deserving this new life that feels so dangerously like a piece of heaven carved out especially for her. Yet here he is, and he is everything, and she is certain her heart will burst within the walls of her chest for how it thrums there so wildly.
Then Offspring is beside her and she knows her heart has indeed burst because there is only a warm weightlessness blossoming there as she turns to press a quick, tired kiss to the soft hollow just above his mouth. She hadn’t realized quite how tired she was until he had joined them by the softly lit mouth of their cave. But his closeness soothes her, it settles the tumble of tumultuous emotion churning in her belly and so she leans greedily closer still, soaking up the affection he so readily rains down upon her. Borrowing this strength, she struggles to her feet, swaying a little with exhaustion until she can lean against him for a moment. But then he says something that coaxes a shiver of delight down the length of her narrow spine and she turns her face quickly to his, touching her nose to the black fur along his heavy jaw.
“And I, you, Offspring.” She whispers back as her nose drops to his muzzle so that she can leave kisses like promises against the satin of his dark skin. “I will love you for the rest of my days.” She pauses to peer up at him, her dark eyes soft and kind in their tiredness, and she wonders if he knows how deeply she cares for him. It is not just carnal pleasures, not a passion like wildfire that burns too hot too fast only to die out in the end. Hers is a love that burns like the sun. It is bright and steady, as steady as she knows how to be, and it is forever because once it ends there will be nothing else. Her heart quivers in her chest and she reaches out once more to touch him, to taste him, to feel wholly bewildered that she could ever deserve someone like him, a love like this.
Then she pulls away from him again, inching carefully closer to their perfect son so that she can touch her lips to the white on his damp forehead, can tousle the soft tuft of forelock between his ears with a puff of breath from her nose. She can remember how cold she felt as a child, how different this world was from the one everyone came from. She longs to lay back down beside him, to curl protectively around his small, dark body and ward off the cold and the unknown with touches and kisses and promises of love. But instinct warns her that he needs to stand, to nurse, so she remains standing as she nuzzles his shoulder and his hip, encouraging him with gentle nickers to unfold those spindle legs and thrive.
