[private] I wish I could feel it all for you; Ivar

[Kellyn]

I wish I could feel it all for you, I wish I could do it all for you

She doesn’t raise her children, or almost never does, but that doesn’t mean she never experiences the urge to check on them. Call it morbid curiosity. And, well, this one could have been special. Kellyn had rather liked the bloodthirsty creature she’d flirted with and eventually taken to her metaphorical bed, had speculated broadly about staying around and attempting to raise the potentially bloodthirsty son that had been growing inside of her. That had all stopped when she found out that Ivar was also consorting with her eldest daughter; at that point, she’d birthed the colt and dumped him in Ivar’s godforsaken land with his sister and his nephews and the little red mare had fled.

The last thing the daughter of Elite and Cagney, granddaughter of Brennen, was going to do was take second place to her own offspring. You take second place to them in so many ways, the voice is quite acerbic, nasty even, the ghost of her aunt expressing her usual disapproval of everything in Kellyn’s life. You left yet another child in the hands of others. Why do you even bother? The condemnation is quite clear, though she can vaguely hear her uncle coming to her defense – naming all the things Kellyn isn’t: she’s not a killer, for instance, no matter how terrible a mother she is. But they all three know the scales are pretty heavily weighted on the side of her sins.

They’d all thought she was redeemable, once. Even the ever-doubtful Bethanie, who certainly hadn’t haunted her all these years for the excitement. Even her father, who could see Elite in the nuances of her behavior. Even Brennen, who’d raised her. Maybe the child had been redeemable. Maybe once upon a time, the woman had been too. Nobody really believes she is anymore, though they’re all quite glad she never lived up to her mother’s possibilities either. Rather than an evil mastermind, she’s never been much more than a capricious wanderer. Her ghosts fall silent again as she moves in the shallow water, knee-deep, hazel eyes scanning the shores. Surely her son is still here – where else would he have gone? He’s barely more than a child.

Kellyn wants to see her youngest son. She wants to know what he is like. And maybe she wants to see Ivar, too – just to tell him she’s still better than her daughter.

Kellyn

the girl who walks in time and talks to ghosts
daughter of cagney and elite

@[kahzie] /@[Ivar] I don't care if this is a two-post thread or we can go back and forth but you said Ivar would kill Kellyn :3

[Ivar]

The kelpie has never put much thought to ranking his lovers beyond their success in bearing him kelpie children. Those that do he makes an effort to keep, and so the speed at which Kellyn had slipped from his grasp had been bothersome. Her daughter – while compliant and uncomplicated – has been more of a dissapointment. The blue boy is much more satisfactory than his piebald brother-cousins, who Ivar has considered culling a time or two. There is no use in keeping boys who are not kelpie, and yet their mother is fond enough of them – and pliant enough to Ivar’s needs – that he has allowed them to survive nearly to adulthood.

He can hear them in the distance, splashing about in the water, not far from where he drifts belly-up in the shallow sea.

Nearly asleep, a last long inhale of the warm salt air brings with it an unexecpted scent. Ivar tilts his body slowly, his long finned tail drifting toward the seafloor as he pulls himself upright.

A familiar red figure stands in the shallow water, and Ivar moves toward her without a second thought.

“Kellyn,” he says against the roan curve of her neck, his dark lips tracing the edge of her mane as he pushes compliance and desire into her. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

He drifts away now, and she follows.

Another touch to her side encourages her to dive beneath the water. It is unnatural, but to any observer she’s done it of her own free will. He lets her surface, watching with emotionless golden eyes as she gasps for air, and then commands her down again. By the time they’ve reached the far side of his island, free of prying eyes and nosy nereids, Kellyn is exhausted. Yet the hyponotic commands Ivar murmurs against the too-fast pulse of her throat keep her smiling, and Ivar’s golden eyes have grown impossibly bright.

He is not thinking of children in this summer season, but his instincts are undeniable.

She dies happy, like they all do, and Ivar swallows her last scream with lips bloody from bites along her neck and shoulders. He pulls her body further down beneath the water, wedging it between two rocks. It’s been some time since his last kill, and he will likely stay here for a few days, stuffing himself. When he emerges he intends to find Carwyn and give her one final chance to produce a kelpie before dragging her down here with her mother.

@[Kellyn]
voila