05-01-2020, 06:57 PM
bottom of the deep blue sea
Their years together are spent in arrangements. Their love has struck hot and quick like an armorer’s hammer against raw metal, squealing and red. Blood draws and pools in old scars upon her withers, the scaleless and naked patch at his throat where her teeth had once sunk as she dragged him below the waves.They know pain and glittering glass words, sharp and small, but hurtful. They laugh, sneer, and bicker when the other leaves to only return to the bed they share on silky sand beaches as crisp as fresh snow. Between them, the bringer of kelpies, a legacy that haunts the waters of Beqanna. Isobell is proud of her man and his accomplishments, meeting his violence that is barely quelled beneath his eyes.
Their world is calm now, Ivar brings her kelp and thin-boned fish that snap delicately between her teeth. Her silver eyes glint and reflect love for him as she watches the way he eyes her curves but she does not turn away or chastise his open lust. Isobell lays upon the secluded beach just through thorn and thicket. Ivar found this place that can only reach by expert navigation though channel and tide. Here she lays luxuriously in her aquatic form, her body warmed by sunlight as the ends of her tail billows are tugged to and fro in the calm caress of a tide pool.
Their love has been calm as of late, an eye of a hurricane, blissful. He is not far off and even wonders if he still lay near her or has taken to the water as she daydreamed of their eternal life, satiated in his scent, her primal need to have him always. ”Ivar?”, wondering if he would reply. She does not pick her head up but merely stretched her legs straight and the curve of her hip upward to feel if he still remained on the sands or not.