Rhaegor
the playboy
Ever since that nightmare of a kingdom visit in Nerine, Rhae has been hard at work.
Of course, his first duty came by the name of Magnus, to whom he attempted to profusely apologize while they travelled back to Tephra. While the king accepted the apology, thereby acknowledging that Rhae had been somewhat at fault, he had done so with a wane smile. Clearly, the ancient one had dealt with much larger issues, and would not be put off by things as simple as love-struck teenagers and over-protective dads. By Rhaegor’s estimations, it had been probably a hundred or a thousand years since Magnus had been either of those things.
Thus, with task one out of the way, Rhae set immediately to task two, that being made up of a plethora of many smaller tasks. Having whispered the site of the party into Chryseis’ ear that day in Nerine, and having seen the way her heart broke in its ribbed cage when Leilan had spoken so rudely to the man she loved, Rhse knew exactly what he had to do.
Early the morning of the party, when the other more talented crafters were hard at work, Rhae slipped from Tephra to the Island Resort. He’d cleared this day off with Magnus earlier, utterly abashed, but delighted to be enabled in his quest for love; if Mag were smart, however, he would know that by letting Rhae go about his romantics (romantic antics?), he may very well come into the possession of an icy, passionate young woman willing to serve their volcanic nation.
Or maybe he’s just a sucker for young love.
Either way, sunset met Rhae on the other side of the twilight bridge – though it looked more like a panel than a bridge right now, made only for accessibility and not yet for decoration. Grinning from ear to ear and eyeing the way the snow fell and immediately melted atop his nose, the coltish stallion burst forth into the forest, gleefully unaware of the fact that he could do next to nothing without the help of one of the snow-fabricators.
Luckily, he eventually found one, and set about asking for their help decorating a private thicket, near the north-eastern point of the island. Although he had arrived early, by the time they were halfway done realizing the vision he’d had for this spot, he worried that they would never finish. Of course, this fear was horribly unfounded, and by the time they finished, he still had an hour to wait before Chryseis’ arrival. What on earth would he do?
Well, get to the spot where he’d promised to meet her, for starters.
Feeling as light as air (thanks largely to the generosity of a Tephran healer), Rhaegor raced across the land, barely seeing all the other fancy things put up along the way. Tufts of snow flew up behind him as he ran, and he wished for all his worth that he could spread his wings and fly; but the mottled appendages were useless in their current state, having suffered the worst of the symptoms given to him from the contagion. For now, he would settle for running; for the feel of the magically-cool air ripping through his mane and lungs.
Directly ahead of the bridge now, Rhaegor halted; and here, he waited for arrival with nervous anticipation.
--
Rhae!
At the sound of his name, the stallion starts, half-rearing in an attempt to see atop the ocean of intermingling strangers. While some have stopped to try and say hello, the male’s broody silence and feisty eyes sends them away rather effectively, a tool which he will have to remember for other times. Now, however, his countenance changes completely. The shadow lifts from his brow, revealing cool brown eyes which glitter silver in the snowy moonlight; and beneath his nose, his lips bend lovingly, their expression a mixture of exaltation and bliss.
“My girl,” is all the boy has a chance to utter before that selfsame creature barrels adoringly into him. He chuckles at her forcefulness, reminded sweetly of their first meeting, that day in Hyaline; he vividly sees the way her squinting eyes gave him a once-over, and feels the abrupt change from ice to warmth when she decided to smile upon him. Not able to speak any more due to the presence of so many others, Rhae only grins himself and burrows into the sweet-salty smell of his love, pulling her close one last time before allowing her to run her lips across his skin.
Don’t get used to being in control, darling, he thinks into her mind, utterly unable to resist the impulsive words as they blossom in the admittedly rated-R part of his consciousness. As she pauses in the hollow of his jaw, he slips the supple flesh of her own neck into his lips, sucking and biting it gently. No goddamn-marks, goddamn-Leilan-fucker… Not yet, anyway. I will take very good care of you.
Acting as though he hadn’t just used his telepathy on her for the first time, Rhae releases Chryseis’ and listens amusedly to what she says. When she banishes him from ever visiting, a glowering look comes over his visage, the roguish glint in his eyes now utterly undeniable. But, instead of pressing his idea of her moving with him to Tephra into her mind, he only cocks a brow in playful, teasing silence. After all, by the whispers in her mind, she is already thinking along those lines herself. Better for it to be her decision; he has had enough of asking women to come with him, and has had enough of the scorn that follows such questions.
Instead, he makes a smaller, more anticipated request. Making sure to maintain side-long eye contact as he steps forward and past Chry, the pegasus brushes along her length, nose reaching to nudge her rump around such that she might follow him towards their destination.
The journey north-eastward goes agonizingly slowly, but the man reassures himself that it will definitely be more agonizing for her than for him. As such, he adopts a suave disposition, pointing out each and every unique decoration and smiling warmly at each of her reactions. Occasionally he brushes the tip of his wing against the sensitive skin of her flank, but he always pulls away when she leans into him – always, until a particularly awe-some feature distracts him, and they end up side by side, his mottled wing strewn comfortably across the width of her spine, tucking around her rump to keep her warm. Not that the frosty girl needs it; in fact, get to close and she might just ice his face off.
He doubts it, though.
At long last, the entrance to their private thicket appears. To anyone except the two young lovebirds, it looks obsolete and uninteresting; but when Rhae steps forward, releasing Chry from his grasp, he knows that she will understand. Casting a final grin back in her direction, the male steps forward into an incredibly narrow passage, between a rock-face and many trees.
Although he couldn’t create an exact replica of their Hyalinian plateau, he hopes that Chryseis will appreciate this small ode to their beautiful hideout.
Slipping free of the chasm, Rhae prances anxiously on the spot, waiting for his love to step through and to behold their little room.
Overhead, hundreds of enchanted light-fixtures hang, each with a ball of softly glowing light encapsulated in pure, unmelting ice. The light reflects softly from one to the other, creating a dappled, star-like illumination within the thicket. Where trees would normally stand to enclose them, thin walls of ice stand, and upon each, an image: centrally, of Hyaline, their birth home. To the left, of Nerine, the kingdom of Chryseis’ sire; and to the right, Tephra, the kingdom of Rhaegor’s dam. Each image is painted in the best likeness that the magician who had helped him could do, but they were admittedly spot on.
Gesturing eagerly, Rhae steps further into the room and then looks pointedly behind him. Where his hooves have just been, a warm yellow glow now sits, fading slowly; and upon closer inspection, they could each see the dots of light nestled all around them between the ground and the ice walls. Lastly, a small pile of things sits atop the snow-strewn earth; upon first inspection, they seem useless, but when Rhae bends to grab them each one at a time, they clearly are not.
First, he speaks into her mind as he turns to face her, a feather from my wings so that I will be with you wherever you go. Reaching, he tucks the gold-and-blue thing into her mane, sweetly, and with care that he does not pull her hair in doing so (though such gentleness is not to be expected later).
Second, a piece of ice which has been enchanted to taste like your fondest memories. Smiling knowingly, he presses the cube into her mouth, and deftly splits it with her. When he closes his eyes, all he can see is her, standing by him as they looked upon all of Hyaline that very first day in their hideout.
And third, he thinks to her, a halo, for my angel. With the help of one of the twilight manipulators, Rhae had used his light beam emission to construct a temporary crown, which, enchanted, now floats softly atop Chryseis’ blue-gold head. Stepping back, Rhae appreciates his handiwork – but more than that, his eyes stray to the girl’s natural beauty, his breath taken by the very presence of her.
Smiling again, Rhae steps into her chest, as she had into his. Feeling her pulse and confusing it willingly with his, he part his lips and speaks the words most prominently on his mind.
“I love you, Chryseis.”
...my name on your tongue and your tongue on my...