• Logout
  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    i've never fallen from quite this high | aegean
    #1
    and since you’re the only one that matters,----------------
    ----------------tell me: who do i run to?


    Pteron canters a few paces behind Asena, following the pale filly as she weaves her way through the Tephran jungle. Though he feels the loamy soil beneath his hooves, what he sees in front of him is one of Tephra’s long beaches. Asena spins the illusion as she runs, and while he can sometimes catch flashes of greenery or animal life she had moved to quickly to cover, he is still impressed by her skill.

    He tells her so as he ruffles the purple and white tufts of her mane. Asena responds by laughing and butting the nubs of her soft antlers against her father’s chest. Pteron grumbles at that, having reminded her often that they are growing and could prick someone if she’s not careful, but he can tell she is being gentle and says nothing aloud. Pteron had found Asena playing in a stream not long after he’d returned from the Forest, and had asked his youngest daughter where her father was. She had offered to lead him – and show him her new trick – and he had accepted.

    Aegean’s smell is strong here in the thicket where they often rest, and Pteron sees him through the tangle of greenery, whickering a call long before he is near enough to brush his lips against the stallion’s glowing cheek. “I have wonderful news,” he says before drawing back just far enough that their breaths mingle easily in the warm summer air. “I’ve been recruited to Ischia, to mentor Halcyon.” Pteron has told Aegean of Halcyon, and of his relationship with his mother, Aquaria, hiding nothing. “Aquaria has recently become the Dame of the island and is understandably busy. I told Hal yes.”

    Now Pteron waits for a reply, though he is sure that Aegean will be as excited as he is. After a moment he adds, just in case listing the benefits might help: “The kids will love it there, and I’ll have something to do, and we’ll still be close enough to your family here to visit any time.”
    @[aegean]

    -- pteron --

    #2
    Aegean

    I should have loved a thunderbird instead
    at least when spring comes they roar back again

    Aegean stands with Aureus, listening to the boy share stories of his latest adventures outside of Tephra. His son is a quiet soul—introverted, soulful—but also shy. Aegean knows that his quietness is not the same as his own. He has always lived in his head, but it was never out of fear of the outside world. Aegean had simply preferred the creations of his own making to those of the world around him.

    Aureus, he fears, lives there because he does not trust the world. It is a stark difference that cuts to the core of Aegean and he does his best to coax the young boy out of his shell. To wander without fear—to make friends, make mistakes. To make the kind of stories that he had always known were worth making.

    So he is pleased to hear of his son’s latest adventures.

    To hear of the glowing girl in the playground and the girl of glass. To hear more of his son’s strange starlight familiar who accompanies him whenever the sun is down. He smiles down at him, only glancing away when he sees Pteron and Asena make their way toward him. Aureus immediately grins, the smile wider and more genuine, when he sees his sister, and Aegean smiles as they scamper off together.

    He returns the show of affection, brushing his lips against Pteron’s cool cheek. When Pteron pulls back, he listens intently, ears perked and his amethyst eyes steady. He knows of Ischia—knows of Pteron’s ties there—and he understands the appeal of returning there. “I told you that I would gladly follow you anywhere,” he says easily, a corner of his lip pulling up into a smile. “Tephra, Ischia—it makes no difference to me.” The children would be happy wherever they ended up too, he knows.

    “Are you excited to go back?” he asks, studying Pteron, wondering at the implications of returning.

    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)



    @[pteron]
    #3
    and since you’re the only one that matters,----------------
    ----------------tell me: who do i run to?



    Pteron’s gaze follows the pair of lanky foals until they disappear into the trees, and when he turns back it is with a fond smile. Aureus and Asena looked much the same as they had the last time he had seen them, something that he cannot say the same of when it comes to Halcyon or Elio. The months of his search for Aegean had passed without his being truly aware of them, the single-minded focus distracting him from all else. As he meets Aegean’s gaze, feels the warmth in his chest as the smile is returned, Pteron knows he does not regret that choice. He would have searched the Beyond if he’d not been able to find the antlered stallion in Beqanna, the difficulty of the task not even a concern.

    Aegean speaks of following him and Pteron hums happily, pressing another kiss to the plane of his cheek. In this way Aegean is unlike the moon, he thinks. Or perhaps the tide of Pteron’s desires are strong enough to exert a force even on celestial bodies, though the grandiose folly of that brings a brightness to his olive eyes as he nods in response to the other stallion’s question.

    “I am,” he continues, “It’s been nearly four years since I was last there.” Pteron had counted the seasons on the flight back to Tephra from the forest. It seems strange that so much time had passed, and yet the memory of Halcyon – a young tiger instead of a cub – was indisputable proof of that. The image of the striped creature is accompanied by the memory of what the other had said: that he has a younger brother born the spring after Pteron’s last visit.

    The pegasus had been careful – they both had been – every time except the very last.

    Some part of him had wondered why Aquaria had never searched for him the way that he has searched for Aegean, and now he is certain he knows why that is. She is likely furious with him, and he cannot even blame her. Pteron means to atone for his wrongs to Aegean, and he knows that a return to Ischia will surely mean doing the same. Yet Halcyon and the idea of a child, even one that he has never known, emboldens him enough to face the consequences of his actions. Let Aquaria met out whatever anger she has; Pteron is willing to face it for Halcyon and the chance to know Cormorant, who Pteron is nearly convinced must be his son

    He glances away, just the once, to be sure that the children are long out of earshot, and continues. “Halcyon also mentioned a younger brother, born the spring after my last visit.” He lets that hang there, the implication clear as he searches Aegean’s face for a reaction to this news of a potential sibling of their children, one that Pteron had clearly not known of. “It will be nice,” he says hesitantly, thinking of the many ways in which Aquaria might react, “if we already have family there, don’t you think?”

    @[aegean]

    -- pteron --

    #4
    Aegean

    I should have loved a thunderbird instead
    at least when spring comes they roar back again

    Aegean has never known jealousy in regards to Pteron. Whether it was hearing he had a wife or hearing of his exploits with Aquaria or his flirtations with his Uncle, such things as jealousy have never truly touched his mind. He knew despair when Pteron was ripped from his life—the touch of true, unending sorrow at the thought of it—but never jealousy. Never the desire to keep him locked away for good.

    So he feels nothing of the kind when he hears this latest revelation.

    The poetic lines of his face tilt to the side and his amethyst eyes grow a touch more somber. “A young boy,” he says, thoughtful as the implications become clear to him. He says nothing for a moment, letting the thought settle and wondering at what that would mean for them both, but more concerned what it would mean for Pteron. His sweet Pteron who carried the world on his shoulders.

    Aegean knew just how much guilt the other would carry for missing out on another important person’s years. How much he blamed himself for things beyond his control. So he doesn’t delay the conversation further. He simply steps into Pteron’s space even closer, letting his chest rest against the pegasus’ and letting his lips wander down the other’s spine. “I think it would be marvelous to find family there.”

    His voice is quiet as he explore’s the knotted muscles and ridges of Pteron’s back, his glowing lips sweeping over the flesh and smoothing the hair. “It would be a gift for you to share in his life,” he speaks of the boy. It does not cross his mind that Aquaria would be anything but delighted for Pteron’s return or that she would be anything but overjoyed to share their son with Pteron so he doesn’t touch on it.

    “How soon would you like to make the journey?”

    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)



    @[Pteron]
    #5
    and since you’re the only one that matters,----------------
    ----------------tell me: who do i run to?

    “As soon as we can,” he says, the words in disharmony with the languid way he slides his mouth across the slope of Aegean’s neck.

    In the beginning, Pteron had not understood the unhurried manner in which Aegean lives. The dun had made the mistake of mistaking lack of haste with lack of desire, and it had come at a cost. Somehow though, Pteron does not feel the poorer for having paid those years – it only serves to make him all the more grateful for what he has now. He still dreams of the future - makes grand plans for it, even – but knows there is value in the small moments too, that life does not need to be lived at speed to be fully lived.

    “We can say our goodbyes, tell the children, and be away before the frost comes.” Not that the frost will come to these jungles, Pteron thinks with a smile, nor to their tropical destination.

    A sharp squeal draws his attention, but it is followed by matching peals of laughter, and Pteron shakes his head as the sound of their children playing grows fainter with distance. They have grown so quickly, never slowing from the moment that he had learned of their existence. He kisses the glowing white skin that had once stretched wide around their children, and marvels in the miracle of their creation. It is not something that he dares hope for a second time, even this near to the magician who had aided them. It would be only fair for Pteron to take his turn at carrying children if he were to hope for more, the dun stallion thinks, and he is not eager to do so.

    He is ever amazed that Aegean had, and makes no secret of it.

    “Perhaps one of the little islands will be in need of Beachmasters,” Pteron says as he lays his chin across Aegean’s glowing back, closing his olive eyes at the gentle touches along his own sides. “We can have a place all our own. Maybe even name it Aegean Island.” His tone has been somber until the last, and Pteron is grateful for the way they stand, which at least hides the amusement on his face.

    @[aegean]

    -- pteron --

    #6
    Aegean

    I should have loved a thunderbird instead
    at least when spring comes they roar back again

    Aegean has never known anything but this languid pace of living. Perhaps it is a consequence of living so much in his own head instead of in the world around him. He is unlike his companion in that he has never followed in his parent’s foot steps. While they were both born of leaders—of Kings and Queens, in the Beqanna of old—Aegean has never hungered for any touch of power. He has never allowed it to be hoisted on him or, rather, perhaps it was simply apparent from a young age that he had no talent for it.

    Pteron was born a leader, Aegean thinks, tracing circles in his pale flesh.

    It is no surprise that he was given it, has earned it, throughout his life.

    Aegean was too introverted. Too solemn. Too interested in the illusions and dreams.

    Such interest leaves him calm and peaceful, but slow—gentle in his lazy pace. He does not push back against the quick timeline though. He has no reason to stay here longer than Pteron wants. They are, after all, here because of Pteron’s initial wishes. It makes no difference to him where he lays his head at night.

    “Tomorrow then,” he murmurs, stretching out to lay his cheek against Pteron’s back. He stands there like that for a moment, a single ear flicking in the distance at the sound of their children playing. They would love the adventure, he knows, although it would maybe take some convincing before Aureus agreed.

    His attention comes back to the present time at Pteron’s musing and his wide chest rumbles with laughter at the though. “What an unappealing name,” his self-deprecating humor rolls off his tongue somewhat unnaturally. The pale stallion was many things, but he did not suffer from particularly low self-worth.

    “I would say we could call it Pteron Island, but we would be overrun with suitors.”

    The joke is light and without barbs. Aegean has no qualms of whatever dalliances and lovers that the stallion has on the side—not when he makes time for lazy moments like this with him.

    As if to prove his point, Aegean nibbles down his spine and leaves a soft bite.

    “How would I get a wink of sleep with those kind of crowds?”

    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)



    @[Pteron]
    #7
    and since you’re the only one that matters,----------------
    ----------------tell me: who do i run to?

    For a moment he closes his eyes, taking in the moment between them with a soft sigh of contentment. He can still feel the warmth – both of Aegean’s glowing back and the sunlight filtering through the canopy – and hear the distant shouts of their playing children. The thick smell of flowers never fades in Tephra, though whether that is a result of the geography or the constant meddling of the local magicians Pteron is not sure. Perhaps both.

    “Tomorrow,” he repeats, opening his eyes as he speaks.

    Smiling at Aegean’s suggestion – and smiling wider at the proposed result of such a name – Pteron leans against the white stallion with a soft laugh.

    “Ptegean Island it is, then.” He concedes, “Or even Aurena, after the children.” Though he’d meant it as a joke, the name sounds nice when spoken aloud, and he amends: “No, no, I want to keep that one. It’ll have to be Ptegean.” Perhaps they will have another child someday, and Pteron would like to be prepared with as many ‘A’ names as possible, least Aegean find another that does not match.

    Pteron leans into Aegean’s touch, his eyes half closed until the soft bite that has Pteron twisting his head so he might better meet the antlered stallion’s violet eyes.

    “Would you even want to be sleeping?” Pteron inquires with a raise of his brow, while his lips move slowly up the curve of Aegean’s hip

    @[aegean]

    -- pteron --

    #8
    Aegean

    I should have loved a thunderbird instead
    at least when spring comes they roar back again

    Aegean marvels at the easy rhythm he has fallen into with Pteron and yet, he finds that it feels completely natural—exactly as it should be. He is glad to feel the ebb and flow of their lives. The paternal instincts of raising a family with him—watching over their children. The wanderlust of moving from the common lands to Tephra and Ischia. And, in these moments, the passion that simmers so close to the surface.

    Pteron knows exactly how to draw it out from the dreamy stallion’s chest. Taking the easy, languid pulse and stoking it until he feels that small fire burning in the pit of his chest. That need slowly growing.

    It causes something to spark in Aegean’s dark eyes, something to pull at the crease of his velvet lips. He laughs deep in his throat at the pegasus’ suggestions. “Ptegean it is,” he affirms, finding that he too likes the sound of Aurena. It would perhaps complicate things when trying to call for the children—it was too easy to mix them up as it was—but he liked the poetry of having names so similar to one another.

    “Sleeping can be nice,” he muses, humming in the back of his throat. His skin twitches underneath the pegasus’ touch though and he feels it like a live wire, his ear twitching as the sounds of their children fade further and further. They would be going to explore the other side of the island, he knows. They liked to get as far away during their adventuring as they thought their fathers would allow.

    Content to know they were having fun, he brings his attention back solely to the pegasus. Continuing to hum, his lips skim over Pteron’s back before finding the hip. “Not sleeping is fun too though.”

    His teeth sink into the flesh there before he replaces it with a kiss.

    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)

    #9
    and since you’re the only one that matters,----------------
    ----------------tell me: who do i run to?



    Pteron watches for the smile, for the subtle change in those familiar amethyst eyes. He is by nature a lascivious creature and drawing out the same in his lover is an endlessly satisfying endeavor. Aegean’s tranquility is one of Pteron’s favorite attributes, which somehow makes the fanning of these flames all the more delightful. A shiver runs down his spine just ahead of Aegean’s touch, and there is a sharp intake of breath at the feel of teeth against his hip.

    By the time the children return, Pteron is smoothing out the mess they’ve made of Aegean’s glowing mane (his own already groomed) and describing what he remembers of Ischia.

    @[aegean]

    -- pteron --





    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)