03-13-2018, 01:53 PM
Hephaestus
Mesmerized he watched as her eyes darted beneath her lids. She was dreaming, but he could not guarantee that the visions she saw were pleasant. His brow furrowed as her legs twitched and her face screwed up in an expression of anguish. He stepped forward wishing that he was able to reach in a pull her out of her nightmare.
Hephaestus was no stranger to scars. Physical or mental, both left ugly marks on a person’s soul. Like ugly pink marks upon the skin, it was hard to mistake the ordinary trials of life with that of pure torture. Since the time he was a young foal he grew painfully familiar with the out-casting truth of his own deformity. Always on the outside looking in, he’d forced himself to build up walls around himself. However tall his protective barrier towered, fingers of torment always seemed to snake their way through the cracks.
He’d done everyone a favor when he left. His own mother was free to live the life she deserved – to find happiness with the stallion that had shunned Hephaestus so cruelly. It wasn’t too long ago that thinking upon things would have left a bitter stain upon his tongue, but today the memory only served to cement the truth he’d been force feeding himself. She was better off without him. They all were.
Shaking himself from his thoughts he forced his attention to return to the slumber creature at his feet. Somehow he’d moved closer to her and his massive shadow covered her like a blanket. She was beautiful. Her petite stature was almost overcome by the peacock feathered plume upon her back. A gift, no doubt, to somehow cover up the immense pain of her past.
Hephaestus had never been offered such a gift as the one that the strange mare bore. Throughout his life he’d escaped the notice of the fairies and had been forced to bore the whole ugly truth of his misfortune shamefully upon his face.
Desire filled him and frightened him all at once. It’d been too long since he’d last felt the soft touch of another. Prone at his feet, the mare lay, oblivious to his presence. Harmless in it’s purity, Hephaestus slowly lowered his muzzle until he was a breath away from her. He closed his eyes and reveled in the very existence of her. She smelled sweet, like the scent of pine after it rained or the sweet tickle of spring flowers as they broke through the frost of morning. Just as he was lowering his lips the rest of the way she jolted and her teary eyes fluttered open.
He scrambled back toward the shadows, his heart pounding loudly in his ears as shame filled him once more. It was foolish of him to have attempted such a thing. He was beyond that – beyond deserving the chance to find solace in the company of others. Besides, what could a kiss from him accomplish? More than likely he would have only worsened her suffering – not improve upon it.
Her voice. As she called out to him his muscles tensed, ready to flee from the shame her beauty elicited. Pure as a song bird she begged him to reveal himself and his feet carried him out of the shadows. He braced himself as his body moved without his approval, bringing him around and into her line of sight. A thousand times before he’d received looks of disgust and heard the uncontrollable horror hidden behind stiff formality. He’d learned to guard against the disappointment that their unacceptance would bring.
Hers would be no different than the last, though he knew it would sting in a way that it hadn’t in a long time.
Hephaestus was no stranger to scars. Physical or mental, both left ugly marks on a person’s soul. Like ugly pink marks upon the skin, it was hard to mistake the ordinary trials of life with that of pure torture. Since the time he was a young foal he grew painfully familiar with the out-casting truth of his own deformity. Always on the outside looking in, he’d forced himself to build up walls around himself. However tall his protective barrier towered, fingers of torment always seemed to snake their way through the cracks.
He’d done everyone a favor when he left. His own mother was free to live the life she deserved – to find happiness with the stallion that had shunned Hephaestus so cruelly. It wasn’t too long ago that thinking upon things would have left a bitter stain upon his tongue, but today the memory only served to cement the truth he’d been force feeding himself. She was better off without him. They all were.
Shaking himself from his thoughts he forced his attention to return to the slumber creature at his feet. Somehow he’d moved closer to her and his massive shadow covered her like a blanket. She was beautiful. Her petite stature was almost overcome by the peacock feathered plume upon her back. A gift, no doubt, to somehow cover up the immense pain of her past.
Hephaestus had never been offered such a gift as the one that the strange mare bore. Throughout his life he’d escaped the notice of the fairies and had been forced to bore the whole ugly truth of his misfortune shamefully upon his face.
Desire filled him and frightened him all at once. It’d been too long since he’d last felt the soft touch of another. Prone at his feet, the mare lay, oblivious to his presence. Harmless in it’s purity, Hephaestus slowly lowered his muzzle until he was a breath away from her. He closed his eyes and reveled in the very existence of her. She smelled sweet, like the scent of pine after it rained or the sweet tickle of spring flowers as they broke through the frost of morning. Just as he was lowering his lips the rest of the way she jolted and her teary eyes fluttered open.
He scrambled back toward the shadows, his heart pounding loudly in his ears as shame filled him once more. It was foolish of him to have attempted such a thing. He was beyond that – beyond deserving the chance to find solace in the company of others. Besides, what could a kiss from him accomplish? More than likely he would have only worsened her suffering – not improve upon it.
Her voice. As she called out to him his muscles tensed, ready to flee from the shame her beauty elicited. Pure as a song bird she begged him to reveal himself and his feet carried him out of the shadows. He braced himself as his body moved without his approval, bringing him around and into her line of sight. A thousand times before he’d received looks of disgust and heard the uncontrollable horror hidden behind stiff formality. He’d learned to guard against the disappointment that their unacceptance would bring.
Hers would be no different than the last, though he knew it would sting in a way that it hadn’t in a long time.
Break My Shackles To Set Me Free
@[AuroraElis]