"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
They say curiosity killed the cat. Despite this pearl of wisdom, she is quite hale and very much alive. But then, she is not a cat, even if her curiosity is very much like one.
That is not to say that it had not caused her trouble before, because it most certainly has and no doubt will again. But she is no shrinking violet, not one to shy away from the more dangerous walks of life. No, not the blue and white once-queen. She did not gain the title through fear.
She also did not gain it by being a pushover. There are those who would soon learn that fact in no uncertain terms. She is curious, but by no means kind. She harbours revenge deep in her breast, and she would use what is hers to gain what she seeks. So it should come as no surprise that she keeps tab.
Of course, she spies for more purposes than revenge, as one might have already surmised. Having gone so long without her particular trait, she has much catching up to do. But having ensured her family's safety, she now seeks to assuage that aforementioned curiosity.
When her sight catches upon the deeds of one stallion, a man who seems quite determined to cut a wide swath through Beqanna, she decides to find him. One cannot live entirely in the ether after all. And for a woman like her, such a feat is not difficult.
The meadow is as familiar to her as the inside of her eyelids, so it is no great difficulty to locate and find him. When she does, she approaches with a confidence born of long years of experience and leadership that belie her true age. A creature of many facets and just as difficult to read.
”I find you everywhere, it seems,” she greets him casually, almost familiarly, foregoing all traditional niceties. Besides, she has seen enough to know it is unnecessary.
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
He'd done it. Like a fool.
He had to at least try. Just the once. Just to see.
It was Zor's fault. He put the seed of doubt in him, implying that Cerva had been dying. But her body wasn't there where she'd stayed back. Where he'd left her as she had asked of him. Did that mean she really did abandon them? How was he supposed to tell Atrani her own mother didn't want her. Didn't want them. Why? Why couldn't she love him anymore? What was he supposed to do with her, his perfect little Cerva-child that didn't want his touch. Just like her mother.
He turned his eyes away, the rejection cutting into him anew. His heart bled agony through his bone-thin body, seeping into the blackness that powered the rest of him. As his hard eyes lifted, he noticed the woman immediately. She was staring at him, not away from him as he was used to. There were not many that would openly stomach his appearance, thick blood crusting around bone plates tearing through his sickly skin. And if that didn't turn them away, the dark and dangerous look in his eyes usually did.
And still she stared.
And still she approached.
"I find you everywhere, it seems." Confident. Seemingly accepting and unimpressed with any part of him. Probably fairly stupid, then. Or something else. Certainly attractive in her way, he supposed, and a bit regal. Self-entitled.
You want a nightmare, just close your eyes, he drawled sweetly, barely a hint of a smile tightening the spot of blue in the corner of his mouth. His voice was surprisingly smooth for one made of such sharply defined edges and harsh features. An odd contrast reminiscent of his childhood as a soft and attractive colt with alluring bottomless, black eyes.
Once affectionately tucked so close, treasured, and now rejected and repulsed by all.
He blinked. And waited for her to get to her point if she had one. He had a daughter to return to. And blood to wash off.
Oh yes, he is very intriguing indeed. The sharpness of his protruding bones matches the glint in his eye. She studies him openly, uncaring of any note he might make of the boldness of her gaze.
He possesses an unusual appearance, it cannot be denied. All angles and ridges and white bone, with a deep, fearsome demeanor and fathomless dark eyes. But she has seen far, far worse. So, no, he does not surprise her, does not cause her disgust, nor even fear. With her ability to flit from sight to sight on a whim, there is little that surprises her anymore.
Besides, she can make no great claim to beauty herself. With her angular body and narrow frame, she is rather unassuming. The blue and white of her body is not unpleasant, but nothing of any particular note either. And on her chest she boasts a rather gnarled scar, courtesy of decidedly sharp raptor teeth long ago. No, her only claim to physical uniqueness is the vibrant shade of her stunningly blue gaze.
But that is neither here nor there.
Instead, she smiles, dark lips stretching into a cool grin that displays little true humor. She tips her head slightly at his words, icy eyes staring at him as one might stare at a wayward child.
”Oh, it is not nightmares I worry of when I close my eyes,” she responds with a pithy air, her words light, as though she is harboring a good joke.
No, it is definitely not nightmares she fears. Indeed, she fears little, at least when that emotion is not forced upon her (but that is an anger best saved for a later date). Certainly not this silent stallion with the unusually fearsome visage.
Easing sideways in order to face him more fully, she eyes him a bit more intently, blue gaze speculative. ”Though if it is nightmares you seek, I am certain that I could provide.”
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
Oh, it is not nightmares I worry of when I close my eyes. Her voice was light, carefree, but there was a soberness to her eyes. A strength buried deep that probably made her stubborn, driven. Her smiles were chilled, her eyes sharp and just as cold. She shifted herself to view him better. His ears flicked back in annoyance, but he made no move otherwise. Though if it is nightmares you seek, I am certain that I could provide.
He didn't really know what that meant. Didn't really care. He smiled. So what do you worry of when those pretty eyes close?
This encounter was rather strange. Did she have a purpose in approaching him, or was it merely misplaced curiosity? He edged a little closer, stepping into her personal space but refrained from touching her. For now. His hot breath passed over her cheek, her neck. She was a puzzling thing. He didn't much care for puzzles. He liked soft, warm, with a little bit of firm. Craved goodness that could counter his blackness. But maybe there was still hope for her.
Perhaps its a dream you seek then? he suggested quietly, his eyes drawing in every line of her face in careful detail.
Perhaps this was some sort of test, sent by the magician. A test of loyalties? Well, the mage would find he still knew who he belonged to. There was nothing anyone could offer him that could change that. Even a healing couldn't remove the brand on his flank. An ash tree, burned and claiming. Even without it, he'd might still be loyal. He was dark and cruel, but faithful.
He circled around, taking in her sweet contours as he passed slowly. Mostly because he was bored. She seemed so sure of herself, and yet he felt she didn't know what she truly wanted. He lingered at her hip, tempted. But eventually continued. You all alone in this big world, then, hm? That would be tragic, he said sadly, not meaning a word of it. Not giving a damn at all. He sure as hell wasn't going to bring her home, or offer her one. Somehow he didn't think that's what she was after, though. But did she even have goals in mind? Or was she just wandering about life aimless and miserable.
He came around to pause at her opposite shoulder, muzzle drifting closer. She probably tasted good. She probably wouldn't scream though. Wouldn't even gasp. Probably just stand there as solid and dull as she was now.
That faint smile still curves her lips as he edges closer, his suggestive words whispering past equally dark lips. She can feel the nearness of him, the faint heat, the coppery scent of blood, the soft huffs of air from his easy breaths. Smile deepening, she lifts her head, shifting her stance as her muzzle turns to find his neck, turns to nibble teasingly at the strands of hair there until she finds his ear.
”Secrets,” she whispers softly, almost enticingly, against him before abruptly withdrawing from him. Her gaze is no less bold than before as it finds his, grin just a bit on the wicked side.
Oh, she could play with the best of them.
His next words startle a laugh from her, one equal parts amusement and disbelief. How fanciful he is. ”I had a dream once,” she responds easily, though her words contain just a hint of something else. A hint of something deeper, almost melancholy in its feel. ”But dreams are not made to last.”
Had he asked, she would have quickly disabused him of the notion that she has any purpose here other than curiosity. Though, in all honesty, it would only be a part truth. She does have a purpose here, but it is a game long in the making, one few could ever hope to see the end to. She cultivates acquaintances as one might cultivate flowers. Friend to no one but known to everyone.
He really is an amusing diversion though. Especially coated in secrets and blood as he is. She would find his secrets, she always does. Indeed, a brief peek is all she needs. He might even hardly notice the way her gaze goes distantly for a few long moments, as though she is no longer seeing. Perhaps because she isn’t seeing him. At least, not right in that particular moment.
The smile slips from her lips than as her gaze sharpens, blue eyes focusing once more. ”Hardly,” she says quietly in response to his probing question, a sudden edge to her words. ”Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me.”
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
She reached for him and his head curled around naturally to breathe her in as she did. A fragrance both delicate and strong, with a spicy bite to it. The soft velvet of her muzzle touched his neck, heating his skin instantly and heightening his senses. She toyed with his hair until she reached his ear. His lips parted in a quiet exhale, eyes drifting closed. He liked her nearness, wanted to yank her further into him but held still. Secrets, she whispered, then retreated.
I had a dream once. But dreams are not made to last.
There was a heaviness to it, a faint reflection of steel. His dreams had not lasted either, he supposed. Lost everything. Abandoned.
She seemed to slip away somehow, grew distant. Lost in thoughts. His eyes grazed over her openly, and he still was taking her in when she spoke again. Hardly. Don't tell me you don't recognize me. Dark stare hardened at the edge in her voice and returned to her. Of course he didn't know her, had just barely met her. Why should he recognize her?
Don't know you, he said firmly, Never seen you. He was ready to walk away then, hating the sting of a very different memory: his own being lost as he trained. As though she could mock his lapse, pretend he'd forgotten her too. Or had he?
He immediately thought of Zoryn, wondered if the bastard was toying with him. Sending a pretty girl to laugh in his face for him. His ears pulled back, wary and annoyed. Whatever. He wasn't playing Zor's game. Not today, not any day. Not until he got his payback. He grit his teeth and turned away, ready to escape the pain she probably hadn't intended to bring back.
Please tell me if this is not OK, I can definitely change it <3
show them the joy and the pain and the ending
No, of course he would not remember her. They have never met. But the familial resemblance is strong.
Still, she is not one to give her secrets away with ease. And since he had not guessed, she would not tell him. Besides, she is not one to judge too harshly, even if obligation made this necessary. She has not been precisely well behaved herself.
But she would not let him escape her that easily. Without her ability to turn something into nothingness, to make matter dust with only a thought, she is not particularly dangerous. At least, not immediately so. Without any cliffs in the near vicinity, he really is in no danger from her.
That does not mean she powerless by any stretch of the imagination however.
”Of course you haven't,” she responds darkly as he turns to walk away. But that would simply never do. ”I never said we were through.”
Then, between one heartbeat and the next, she steals his sight. His vision. Leaving him in a world of blackness.
She smiles then, though he cannot see it, following so that she can slip up beside him once more. Even without sight, he would be able to feel her. The heat of her narrow frame, the gentle touch of her muzzle along back and shoulder until one last caress is placed lightly upon his neck.
”Don't tell me you would run frightened from a mere slip of a girl like me.”
Nevermind the fact that there is nothing ‘mere’ about her.
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
Of course you haven't. A brief pause. I never said we were through.
Her voice was a blunt weapon to his back, a hard thump filled with purpose he could only guess at. But he ignored it. He would not be called to heel, not by her. His master was a very different beast, and no other could sway him from a course he chose. So he didn't stop, didn't hesitate.
Until everything went black.
He froze, shoulders tight as he kept his head still and tried to look around. His nostrils flared and his hearing focused, naturally trying to make up for the sudden absence of his vision. More than that, his skin prickled as though grasping through the air for her. This wasn't the blackness he always sought by force, the one to drag him under and into blissful sleep. Because he was still awake and wishing he wasn't.
The first thing in his mind was Atrani, always his Atrani. But she was born this way, and wouldn't truly understand the loss. Because she didn't have a loss. She simply was this way, blind because of him. Because of his cursed blood running through her and soiling her, stealing her very eyes from her skull. Still so perfect though, his little Cerva. Still his heart stolen and beating outside of himself.
And then as she passed closed to him, her heat mingling with his, he thought of Leliana with him in his dark cave. She probably didn't realize how she toyed with his memories; how she tossed him into sweeping emotions, one so different from the next.
Now he was subdued, because that is what Leliana does to him.
Back in his dark home with her, feeling her warmth next to him and barely being able to see her in the deep blackness. It didn't matter that he knew he was still here, in the meadow with a stranger. Day, and not night. Not Ischia. It only mattered that he could feel her, her soft muzzle brushing gently against him, across his back and shoulder, along his neck. Disappearing over armor plates and coming back again with soothing heat.
His head curled around toward her in reflex, in memory, reaching for her too. He wanted to press his mouth to her cheek, her neck, her throat, and tried to. Tried to sweep gently parted lips over that graceful curve of muscle in her neck, breathe her in even if it wasn't the right scent, just different. Still beautiful, still soothing. Still so warm and tempting.
She spoke again, and he shook his head no, just barely. He didn't think he was answering her, wasn't sure if he heard her. Only gave that little shake, Don't speak, and tenderly reached for her, blindly sought out her perfect skin through the heat in the air around her.
no, it is fabulous <33 she has magic and she should definitely use that however the hell she wants or i will be sad.
His reaction is unexpected, to say the least. Indeed, at first he appears to have no reaction at all. But then, instead of anger or indignation or fear or demand, he softens towards her.
She has no need to hide her surprise; he cannot see her. But the way he reaches for her instead of expressing any number of other emotions she might have expected over this gives her pause. She has seen quite a bit of him, but not enough to explain this unexpected reaction apparently.
She cannot know his thoughts, cannot know who his mind lingers on besides her. For a moment, she almost doesn't care. She has not been touched so sweetly in such a long time that for a moment, she simply closes her eyes and savors it, unknowingly allowing a soft, nearly inaudible sigh to escape her lips.
Too many believe her cold, calculating, and uncaring. All of those things are true. But beneath that icy exterior, her blood runs as hot as any other woman made of flesh and blood. So she can enjoy the simple, soft touch. At least, until a flood of memories intrude, memories of a long ago dream and a long ago love.
Stiffening, she recalls herself to the present, to the man she is with, ignoring the delightful, inconvenient flutter in her chest. Lips pressing into a hard line, she does not hesitate in rifling through his vision, through his past. She may not know who he is thinking of for certain, but she can guess.
There is another, it seems, so very recently. Though she cannot hear or feel what he had, she can see. And she had long ago learned to read lips (her talents would only half so useful had she not), so she can easily sound out what she needs to know.
Giving him his sight back is easy, but she gives it back changed. They are still in the meadow, still standing in the strong summer sun, but her face had changed. She is now a lovely dappled brown with touches of dark red and wings tucked neatly against her sides.
Though she can change her face (perhaps not literally, but he would see nothing of her true form), she cannot change her voice. So the words that escape those red lips are said in a voice belonging to Heartfire, not to this lovely girl she had stolen from his sight. ”You do not wish to play such games with me Dovev.”
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
02-12-2017, 03:45 PM (This post was last modified: 02-12-2017, 03:46 PM by Dovev.)
He reached tentatively toward her, a tender ache urging him on, a warmth spreading and expanding in his cold and hollow chest. She couldn't know how he hurt inside, how he was so solid and protected on the outside and yet so shattered and suffering within. How he needed this. Her act was meant to be malicious, and when he thought he would rage and lash out, he instead welcomed her blackness as though she gently covered his eyes rather than stole his sight.
He felt more than heard the soft sigh beneath his touch, the natural pleasure in being so cared for, given such endearing attention. Yes, he wanted to encourage her quietly, but she stiffened so quickly before he could. He felt regret at that, that something would haunt her and steal this from her.
The distance was there again, though she hadn't moved. He sensed it as she went away to that place she goes, somewhere in her mind, and he tried to call her back to him with another gentle kiss against the steady pulse in her neck. He took a step closer, and kissed her again, sweet and slow. Let me see you, he nearly whispered, but again she was already changing things, already lifting the cover over his eyes and returning his sight. He blinked, he breathed.
But it wasn't her anymore. She became Leliana to him, delicate brown and flowing crimson hair. He hid the sting at seeing her here and knowing it wasn't truly her. His eyes roved over her openly, slowly soaking in every last flawless detail of this new magic. He gradually made his way back to her face, and as she spoke his gaze slid to her lips, watching the true voice leave the image of Leliana. You do not wish to play such games with me, Dovev. He breathed and took another step closer, gently pressed his lips to her cheek, sensually kissed his way to her ear.
Oh, but I think I do, he whispered. He dragged his mouth leisurely to her throat, grazing his teeth across her skin to try and stir her senses as she was stirring his. He lay another kiss into her warmth, then his lips brushed against her in a quiet murmur. Let me see you, he requested softly. Because she was beautiful too.
