[private] You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Explore (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: The Common Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=72) +---- Forum: River (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=82) +---- Thread: [private] You flee my dream come morning [Castile] (/showthread.php?tid=16825) |
You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Ciri - 10-19-2017 Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Castile] RE: You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Castile - 10-25-2017 Without a heart-wrenching allegiance to root him anywhere, Castile is most commonly standing at the river bank lulled into a trance by the gurgling water. He blinks slowly, his body shifted to cock a foot and droop his wings. Beneath the autumn sunlight he is at ease, feeling the gentle warmth blanket across his back. There is occasionally a soft gale to tousle his unruly mane and offset his forelock to reveal his mismatched eyes. Alone and like this, he is able to lose himself in the serenity of the river’s music and ignore the conversations of those mingling around him.
That is, until the heavy sound of panting lures his curiosity like a moth to a flame. The sound of stress ignites an instinct deep within him, a monster that has always been caged and unable to surface, but Castile turns his attention with a nonchalance that doesn’t disturb the tranquility of his pose. He sees the silhouette at first, then her scent gropes for him with urgent desperation, and then everything in him has piqued. Something churns in him as his heart climbs to his throat. Before he can think and weigh the situation, Castile is already closing in on her with adrenaline-pumping strides. The changes across his body hardly faze him – mere prickles across his skin – but he more reptilian by the time he is standing above her. His eyes – one molten gold and the other silver – have slit pupils and an array of black and white scales crawl down his body. His wings mirror that of a dragon, reaching and expanding out from his sides like a curtain to protect her from prying eyes, and when he speaks, his teeth are crocodilian and jagged. ”Ciri,” he breathes her name in a far gentler way than one would expect from hi appearance, ”Who did this to you?” Prior to answering, Castile takes a quick sweep of their surroundings as though the guilty would be staring them down. RE: You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Ciri - 10-30-2017 Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Castile] RE: You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Castile - 11-03-2017 My dragon, she says, and his heart clenches wantonly. If only she means for him and not Amet, but isn’t he the real dragon? Isn’t he – couldn’t he – be the stronger one? Surely, he can take care of Ciri and protect her from harm.
No, no. Amet is his friend, a childhood friend, and he can’t betray him. But, Ciri. When they met in Hyaline, she didn’t reciprocate Amet’s affectionate touches. For a moment, it had only been him and her, but the gilded king somehow cut through them like a knife and put a halt to all ideas and imaginative thoughts. Curiously, Castile glanced between them, but hadn’t seen anything too alarming until just prior to his departure. Now, however, Amet isn’t here and Ciri is looking up at him as the gash across her cheek slows its bloody dribble. Their eyes meet, and Castile can’t hold himself back from touching the curve of her jaw and breathing her in. ”I---“ he almost corrects her, but something holds him back – it’s that wrenching in his gut, that want for her – so he stops himself, resigning to slip his muzzle down to her neck, her shoulder, her withers. ”I will find who did this to you,” he is afraid to promise her this just as he was afraid to make promises to Isobell; he doesn’t want to fail either of them or to break his word. She is too precious for broken promises. And too beautiful. A kiss hovers above her skin, but Castile stops himself – the internal war rages on – and instead looks at her face and lowers his wings. He could take her back; they aren’t far from her home, but he finds himself unable to move and act on her wishes. A sigh slips from him as he looks across her body then back to her stormy eyes. ”You need to rest, Ciri. We will stay here for the night,” again he touches her, unable to control himself. His lips trail down the crest of her neck tenderly and a wing extends across her body. ”Lie down, Ciri. We can rest here. I will protect you.” His voice is gentle and reassuring as he tries to help ease her down and curl around her, savoring the warmth mingling between their bodies. RE: You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Ciri - 11-03-2017 Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Castile] RE: You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Castile - 11-04-2017 How is this so wrong, but feels so right? Perhaps, it’s because Castile has never known the warmth or the touch of a woman. This is his first time to have anyone melt into his side or to search his eyes in the way she does. Butterflies flutter throughout him when their eyes meet, his mismatched to her swirling silver. ”Ciri,” he whispers her name with closed eyes, his hot breath fanning across her skin as she comfortingly leans into him, fitting perfectly against his side. For a fleeting moment, it’s only them as the world passes them by as a whirling blur of chaos. There is a serenity encasing them as they succumb to their desires, their bodies heating with want. A breath catches in Castile’s throat as she nestles against him, the space between them entirely gone so that he feels every curve. Silence is most fitting as he embraces her with both wing and body, his lungs drawing her in addictively.
But then she sobers them with that one word, that one name. Castile is rattled, confused, but he doesn’t yet pull away just as she doesn’t. She had said his name first – it was honey on her tongue, so sweet and alluring – but she reminds him of Amet, of the time he saw them Hyaline. Confused, his ears swivel as his gaze flickers to the nearby river as though it will give him answers to their dilemma. It responds with a choked gurgle that he decides to ignore as he lifts his head from the crest of her neck. ”Are you his?” He asks with a furrowed brow, not entirely certain how to handle the way she also says his friend’s name. ”But you didn’t reciprocate the way he touched you in Hyaline… You both didn’t act like—“ he cuts himself off because it really doesn’t matter what he did or didn’t see between them. A groan slips past his lips as he tries to peel away with her, but fails. ”I’m a terrible friend,” he murmurs as his brows furrow for a heartbeat before lifting as he tries to search her face and eyes. Emotion takes hold of him for truly the first time – never has he experienced this sinful lust – and he isn’t entirely sure how to control it or how to let it go as to not ruin her, or them. While he has always nurtured others, now he is suddenly selfish and greedy. With a hissing sigh, an almost ashamed tone twists through his voice. ”Despite everything, I still want you to myself.” RE: You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Ciri - 11-04-2017 Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Castile] RE: You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Castile - 11-08-2017
Yes, she says, and something burns deep inside Castile, hurting. He didn’t know, or did he? With his eyes cast down he tries to piece together a puzzle to help him realize the clues that he ignored. Subtle glances were exchanged between them and Amet had flinched when he noted the minute flirtation bubbling between Castile and Ciri. He had touched her (but she flinched!). He took a place closer to her side.
The clues were there, but he was too dumb, too ignorant to take notice. His eyes only craved her and only flickered to Amet occasionally out of respect. So, so dumb. Yet he doesn’t pull away, not yet, because her muzzle is hovering mere inches from his own. When she speaks, it’s with a heavy breath from a lover. Beneath his forelock, Castile’s mismatched eyes slowly blink. His mind reels, his heart patters. It had been only them moments ago, but when she admits to being his – being Amet’s – suddenly Castile can see more around them. His head turns so that he can see the river race by and see the adults and children clustered in conversational knots. Their voices are so loud now and almost drown out the sound of Ciri’s voice as she asks why her. Hesitant, Castile musters the strength to look at her again as though she will disappear should he meet her eyes. There are so many things he could say, but they mash together to form a lump in his throat. Silence reigns for another moment longer – a period long enough to allow his mind to reflect on Amet – before he can bring himself to answer her with a question. ”Would it even change anything if I told you?” Emotion threatens to choke his words, but somehow he suppresses it enough to sound level while mentally attempting to distance himself from her. But it’s so hard, so hard. Swallowing past the lump, he nods to Ciri – his Ciri, he almost thinks – and regretfully peels himself from her side. ”Amet,” he doesn’t know why he mutters the name of his friend, maybe to burn it into his memory of her? To deter him from holding her closer for longer? His foot drags backward to still ease himself away and feel a cold breeze nip his side that had been warm against hers just minutes prior. ”I can take you home – to Amet – if you are strong enough for the trip,” despite his lust for her, he can’t bring himself to hold her here against her will, not when her heart flies with the Hyaline king. With the melancholy soaking through him, Castile’s body smoothly transitions entirely back to his norm, his wings feathered and his piebald coat taking place of scales. When he blinks again, his pupils are no longer slit and hungry for her, but soft and beaten - destroyed but hidden beneath his forelock. RE: You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Ciri - 11-08-2017 Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Castile] RE: You flee my dream come morning [Castile] - Castile - 11-08-2017
Mad? No, never mad. Hurt though, yes. There is a pain in his chest that is unfamiliar to him, and it grips him relentlessly when he finally looks at her. She is uncertain, but so is he. This entire thing – this awful predicament – is a torrent of suffering that he struggling to see the light of. When he looks at Ciri, he wanted to see an embodiment of his parents and the love they hold, but alas, this fateful world has other plans in the making. Quietly, he shifts his body just as a cold gust whips through the trees and tousles his locks. For a long while, he is at a loss for words while trying to still hold together the cracks ripping through his heart. He is too young for this, he tries to reassure. If he continues to look, if he respects her wishes, if he tries to preserve his friendship with Amet. If, if, if. There’s too many. Castile shakes his head, but among everything, he is still able to curve his lips into that familiar boyish grin. It lightens the shadows of his face, but there is still pain in his eyes as they meet Ciri’s. ”I should have never,” he begins, but doesn’t finish. Things could have been different had he only been observant and not so consumed by the swirling pewter of her gaze when they found him in Hyaline. ”My mistake,” the chuckle is forced as he inches away, even after she edges closer again, missing the warmth his body provided her. It shouldn’t be so difficult to reject her closeness and her reach for his cheek, but it rattles him enough to divert again. Silly boy, he tells himself with a toss of his head. But he is able to glance at her as he pivots to face the beaten trail ahead, considering how relatable it is. ”He brings you joy, Ciri. How can I be mad about that?” It isn’t an outright lie, but a slight fabrication of the truth. He doesn’t want to betray how much he is crumbling. It would do nothing now. Slipping past her, his gaze fallen, he moves away toward the trees before glancing back over his shoulder. ”I will walk you half way, Ciri,” he doesn’t want to be seen by Amet, but he knows that with her lathered in his scent, it will only be a matter of time until their paths cross. When the treeline thins and the hills of Loess are in the near distance, Castile draws to a stop. He greedily drinks in the scent of her before turning to face her. ”Be safe,” he murmurs, not entirely sure what else to say than to repeat what his parents often told him. Up to you if you want to end it here or not since Amet is coming to find Castile haha |