"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
press my nose up to the glass around your hearti should’ve known i was weaker from the start
Although during this time of the year many stallions find themselves driven crazy with the lust for women, the titan remains with a relatively clear mind. Clear enough, at least, that he makes trips to all the various places of his children’s births.
First are Kaida and Noori (his precious little twins, now off and in their own worlds) in their cocoon of safety in the Jungle. Their birthplace is overrun by a newly-created stream from the melted snow; one that the titan thinks will stick around for a while. He can still remember the intense hours waiting for his new lover and their new children, pacing back and forth until the ground wore away under his thumping hooves. And then the innocent dragon fire of their eyes, peering up at him, with Noori’s gentle little muzzle getting shoved into his strong, deep chest.
Next was Rain (their darling little girl, the filly who never grew into her gangly legs or even had the chance to stand) at the borders of the Valley. He does travel there, even when a strong wind picks up and brings in a short thunderstorm. He stands at the border, never going in, but simply breathing in the clear air and wondering and thinking and wishing and wanting and praying about all the things that could have been instead of all the things that were.
Then came Simeon (his brave son, the boy he didn’t know about until he was running away from his own shadows), within the same cocoon of safety as his previous sisters. Another labor the titan wasn’t able to experience, another event of pacing and waiting and fretting that he wasn’t able to partake in. But he can remember meeting his son – the multicolored flare of his eyes, the proud and electric way he stood tall as all young stallions do, the gleam of dragon fire inside of his heart.
Their next son, Shaharizi, born in a different part of the Jungle but nonetheless an innocence among the chaos of their home (the boy with no tail, the strong little heart only wanting to please his parents, the youngling with the soul of friendliness). The titan presses his nose into the dirt of the laboring place, remembering how his lover had giggled over the child’s lack of a tail. Finally, a boy in common with his mother rather than his father.
Finally, there was Ea (their dragon-hearted princess, their spitfire youngest, their ‘we better raise this one right’ daughter) as their last. A girl they could restart with. A girl they could focus on and bring good out of away from the mistakes of their first twin daughters. A girl with so much potential, it nearly flooded out of her entire being.
He lingers at the edge of Ea’s birthplace – where the giant rock marks the destination of her delivery. And he waits. He knows his fire will find him soon, as she always does.
04-21-2015, 05:41 PM (This post was last modified: 04-25-2015, 10:51 PM by Scorch.)
WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT
When she’s without Ea, without her sisters, without her husband, she’s with herself. Lonely, perhaps, but her mind encompasses all that she has had but does not anymore. Memories of Kagerou, of Echion, of Rain; they all gather to keep her world light when the outside world dims. In years long gone, Hestoni would visit her mind as well. For although many are not aware, Scorch will never forget the decade of loneliness spent on one night with Echion. She will never forget the sacrifice Hestoni made, the freedom he laid down at her feet. Never.
While he is adventuring, she is contemplating. Ea’s training has been going well – she’s everything Scorch had hoped and prayed her to be. She was the restart, the new beginning, the proper one. Her duplicate daughter allowed herself to be raised while simultaneously raising herself; a perfect mix of mouldable and independent. She could be the perfect final chapter, the ‘happily ever after.’ And yet…
Scorch wants more.
She has come to this conclusion when her eyes pick up a flash of fire moving between the vegetation. Excitement courses through her, heat rushing to places exclusively open to him. She is everything he wishes to be, just as he is everything she wishes him to be. Whatever imperfections belong to the couple, they are cast aside in light of what they have created – a family. A family which has more children than certain kingdoms have members, I might add. The thought flashes through her mind – but in one ear, and out the other, as they say. She is a creature of instincts, and a creature of love.
Pushing through the bushes and the vines, Scorch appears beside her red titan. ”Ciao il mio titano,” She whispers in her low, sultry voice. Electric blue streaks through her dragon eyes accompanied by slashes of silver. ”Become one with me again,” She murmurs with a roguish smile and a feather-light running of her teeth against his skin. Energy bounces between them, her skin and his fur colliding, their tattoos mingling, fire bouncing from her to him and back again until it seems as though the two are truly one.
”Be warned,” She whispers heavily, shorts coming short and quick, "I’ve something to give you.”
And as their child is made, a trip-wire goes off within her, and one life becomes two. This is not to be worried over yet, though. The time for groaning and rampaging will come. Yet however much Scorch wishes to indulge in this moment, in this ecstasy, in this man - her man – she concentrates. While they are bonded, she bids the Jungle magic upon him. As they unite as they have and will, immortality comes upon him.
press my nose up to the glass around your hearti should’ve known i was weaker from the start
It is odd, to him, how such simple words can take on an entirely new meaning just by the way they are spoken. When he hears her voice (purring and sultry and brimming with hidden meaning) his lips instantly work into a smile. He didn’t have to see her or hear her to know she is near – the fire and love and connection and honesty between them is an ever-present, alive thing and it only crackles more intensely when she is nearby. His entire soul, body, mind, heart, and spirit whispers for her – it only yells louder when she is close.
They are twined together quickly, but it is not too quickly. After ten years away from her (ten haunting, dangerous, scarring, brutal, terrible years), they are still struggling to repay each other for what they have lost. They are making up for the years away, and each time they join together is another final word written on the license of their marriage. And he whispers into her neck lovingly as they become one, saying all the things he could ever say about her both in their language and in their lover’s language and in their body language.
She admits to having a surprise for him between her gritted teeth and he continues patiently and lovingly with their exchange. He doesn’t feel the tripwire as she does (he doesn’t feel their lovemaking turning nothing into one and then one into two). But he does feel the Jungle’s magic caressing against his bones – igniting his tattoos with even more fire before it dims down to seep into his body. Suddenly he feels younger, he feels the hold of immortality dancing through his aging bones and fixing the places where time and elderliness might have been damaging him.
When they come apart, when they slowly wind down but still remain wrapped against each other, he nuzzles his lips into her cheek and whispers, “So we can stay together forever?” She should be able to feel the smile on his mouth; she should be able to hear the way he whispers forever as if it has always been a fantasy and now it is suddenly a reality; she should be able to sense the way his muscles quiver and shake with the excitement of being with her until they both decide to move past this world.
Hestoni’s nose is buried in her neck, so he can’t see her expression. He’s confirming what she had thought possible, what she had thought the Jungle to understand and give. But even as the current guardian of this kingdom, Scorch does not have full control. The Jungle’s magic rears stubbornly as she attempts to finish the transfer of magic from the Jungle to Hestoni; pursed lips and a crinkled forehead accompany the effort. It is only when he speaks in their beautiful language that she releases the magic, sharply exhaling her held breath.
She separates herself from him, pivoting so as to have a face-to-face conversation (a position so radically unusual for them that her frown deepens). What next she says comes out unstably, not angrily perhaps, but most assuredly not calmly, either. ”She wouldn’t let us. That is, the Jungle won’t grant traits to men.” Her nostrils flare, the fire on her hairless skin darkening. ”It’s bullshit… I’m sorry.” The final two words are a curtly stated, though genuineness lays within her eyes.
”Mark my words, we will stay together forever,” She chuckles. ”I’ve just got to find another way. Won’t be too hard, considering all the traits you see popping up for absolutely no reason.”
The wish for elongated rest-time with him is well within Scorch, but the chaotic woman pushes her desires away. To only Hestoni does Scorch speak of her anxieties. After all that he’s done for her, he deserves it. She trusts him to shoulder her load as she shoulders his. ”Besides us, Hestoni…” Navy eyes are averted from his fire-and-brown ones. She starts again. ”What I am trying to say is that we ought to make amends with Kaida and Noori, before it’s too late.” The words should be sincere, loving, but they are bitter, resentful, and reluctantly spoken. ”We’ve done so well with the others, it seems unfair to…” Bladed teeth click together stubbornly, damming in the foreign affection she feels towards her first daughters. Raising her gaze back to Hestoni, Scorch says no more, insistent on being as cold as Echion.
press my nose up to the glass around your hearti should’ve known i was weaker from the start
As suddenly as it came, it disappears. The Jungle’s magic seeps into his bones, giving him a thrilling sensation from within him, and then leaks back out – whispering words of ‘man’ and ‘impossible’ and ‘worthy but of the wrong gender.’ His brows furrow together, but he is caught in the storm that is Scorch and it forces the confused thoughts out of his mind.
They separate harshly, the storm abruptly blowing away and leaving them both stranded to recover from the damage. But both of them are thinking about the Jungle’s magic and neither of them is too worried about never being together again to seek out the storm and call it back. They always make time for each other, in all its ways of being together. She admits the Jungle won’t let her (something he sensed while it was moving through his muscles and between his blood vessels and among his bones) and he nods. “I am a man in a women’s kingdom. She is right to not allow me something that is intended for the women.” His shoulders rise and fall in a massive shrug, hiding the disappointment behind his serious facial expressions.
And then she is going on about Kaida and Noori (their dragon-bred twins, their first children, their magnificent accidents, their painful failures) and finding them and amending the shattered relationships. The titan’s mind grows loud and his body stills, puzzling over their two eldest children. The rest of their family is close, a tight bondage formed between the fires of love and Jungle-bred fierceness. “You’re right,” he whispers.
Her coldness toward their two children is a confusing factor, when she is the one to formulate the idea. Curious fire and brown eyes turn toward the Jungle queen and he smiles in a lopsided way. “But you will have to let go of the cold in your heart in order to make things better with them, Scorch.”
Even as his shoulders rise and fall in a massive shrug, Scorch begins thinking up more ways to elongate their time together. Ten years apart taught her that Hestoni stands on a pedestal in her life; without him, she shatters. He holds her together like the banks of a river, holding her firm and showing her the way. When she grows too strong and pushes him away, he gives. When he gives too much, she floods, and disaster strikes; but he always returns, soil firm, holding her together and showing her the way.
You’re right. He whispers. I know. She blinks.
Sickly feelings swarm her abdomen, a tell-tale sign of the anxiety she has always kept secret. The thought of even catching sight of Noori or Kaida constricts her throat. They’ve been gone so long; so long, in fact, that they have both had children. Twins and triplets, in fact. Perhaps it’s in their genes. It’s been in their genes for generations, in fact; Scorch is a triplet, and even Katriel was a twin.
“I know,” She growls, dropping his gaze. She holds the defensive stance for a moment, but it drops suddenly. Her shoulders sag, her head droops, and her eyes swim. “Oh, how I know…” A whisper now. Without raising her gaze, Scorch steps into him, reuniting them, rebuilding the river banks. She folds into his body, melts into his strength.
And so they stand, eyes wide and minds wandering from child to child, imagining just where they are and how they fair.
And as they stand, Scorch prays to the Jungle; asks for a sacrifice of herself, and a raising of Hestoni. She begs to bend the rules, though never break them.
And while they stand, her immortality splits in two, half remaining and the other shifting to Hestoni. The magic is less than before, imperceptible, but there.
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