this war is mine - stillwater

[Djinni]

djinni

Djinni has watched her son sink beneath the water enough times to know that he is something different.
 
He is no more able to tell her what he is than his father is willing to, and time and time again the grey mare turns away rather than presses forward. There are always other things with which to occupy her time; that is a benefit of monarchy.
 
It’s been nearly a week since she has thought of him this time. That is a new record, the dun mare thinks as she looks down at the spread of red and orange trees below. From up here she cannot see the lake. From up here, everything seems distant and safe and harmless. From up here, she can almost pretend that none of it had ever happened. It would be easy, she knows, but there are always unforeseen consequences. Caution had come around at the same time as the rest of her emotion discovery, and it is one of her least favorites.
 
A decade ago, she’d have changed the trees from fire red to sky blue in the blink of an eye – simply because she wanted to. But now there are other things to wait for, better and more responsible ways to spend her magic.
 
What has she become?
 
She’s not sure she recognizes herself anymore.  
 
Feeling anger is better than wallowing in regret, she decides, and appears in an instant beside @[Stillwater] (wherever it is he had been before her intrusion). Djinni is never settled after an encounter with the black stallion, never calm or at peace or feeling even slightly like the responsible creature she is expected to be. Poking at him is always better than poking into her own mind.
 
It is not wise to prod a beast, but Djinni has spent an entire week being wise and she is bored of it.
 
When she appears, she is ready with a verbal jab. Her mouth even beings to deliver it, but the words don’t come. In her week of Stillwater-empty thoughts she seems to have forgotten exactly why she had imposed the ban in the first place. The grullo mare is far from stupid, yet she curses her idiocy as her stomach plummets. Love is not always a happy thing, her father had once said, and it echoes in her head as she stares with misleadingly cold green eyes.
 
“What’re you doing,” she says suspiciously, as though she’s come upon him in the midst of some terrible misdeed and not something so dull as dozing or grazing or even looking out at the sea. It’s easy to hide behind suspicion, she finds.

all my fragile strength is gone

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

Either she was away more or he had gotten too accustomed to seeing her. It didn't really matter, the results were the same. His temper was short and he was moody as hell. It wasn't her though. It must have been something else. What the hell did he care what she did, where she went. He didn't, of course. That's why he was lounging there carefree on the shore, damp from a swim and staring over the black water.

The instant he smelled her, he bit back a growl. How long had she been gone this time? It didn't matter. He didn't care. "What're you doing," she asked, and it almost sounded like an accusation. As if he were doing something wrong. Suspicion. Good, she should probably always suspect him for something. She didn't know what he was, but she knew enough. He was a monster. And he liked it.

But she'd told him to leave her alone, so long ago.

He pulled himself up to stand, sand and clay clinging to the curves of wet, sculpted muscle that had been pressed into their eager grasp. His demon-black hair rested against his neck in dark, twisted tendrils, dripping water as he turned and walked up the short slope to his cave. Ignoring her. He still said nothing, held back any acknowledgement at all for her aside from removing his presence, as he slid deeper into the darkness and leaned a shoulder against a stone wall.

If she were here for his son, she could see well enough on her own that he was away just then. He preferred to let the boy roam free, so long as he returned home alive and well. Otherwise another part of the world would get something they were not prepared for. And a hell of a lot of havoc. A bloody massacre. His favorite.

Hm. Who knew a creature like him could be protective.

[Djinni]

djinni

She still remembers his roaring. It had shaken the air of Sylva, had cemented in Djinni her decision to keep distance between them. She’d gone back for their son eventually, when she knew that Stillwater was away, and had done her part in raising him. Keeping a child alive is not so exceptionally difficult; it is the shaping them into something a parent can be proud of is so strenuous.

Of course, Djinni would rather Ivar be happy than herself be proud, so she’s always let the little pied colt go and do what he pleases. He ended up sweet despite that, genuine and honest even with minimal guidance. The grey mare loves him and ended up proud after all. That must be what her parents felt, she has often thought. That is why they had one child after another, until Djinni’s half-dozen siblings crowded the Desert. Of course, her mother and father each had the other to turn to. Stillwater and Djinni have raised their son together, but always separately – at least physically.

She is thinking of Ivar as she looks at Stillwater, searching for the similarities that the man in front of her shares with their son. They are there, she knows, but she cannot help but look for them again. Does she hope to be disappointed? To not feel the thrill of uncertainty and desire when he’s near? If so, she hopes in vain.

He doesn’t meet her gaze as he stands, and she takes a half step back, expecting him to turn to face her. Instead, when he turns it is a turn away. Djinni is left standing alone on the lakeshore as he disappears into the darkness.

No.

She wishes it gone, and there is no more cave, just a sloping hillside and a stallion suddenly standing in the sun. She could teleport to beside him, but instead feels it better that she stomp instead. At least she takes her frustration out on the decades of leafy debris rather than his face. The grullo mare rounds him, turning so that she can face him again and pin him with glittering green eyes.

“I didn’t want you to listen to me.” She says, and despite her stomping and scowling its somehow clear that she didn’t mean listen to the question she’d just asked him. She’d wanted him to argue when she’d said to leave her alone, to fight back, to not follow orders. But he hadn’t, and she had known for sure. He was humoring her, and while he might have gotten some sort of predatory satisfaction on the night of Ivar’s conception, there was nothing else to it. She’d wanted him to read her mind, and he hadn’t, and she’s taken it to heart.

Djinni has never been skilled at emotion, after all.

“Do you even want to be here?” She asks, and in an instant the cave is back and they’re standing in the shadows while a glimmer of golden sand disappearing from her eyes. “Or are you only here because I brought you?”

all my fragile strength is gone

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

He tried to walk away, stepped into his home of damp darkness where she likely wouldn’t feel inclined to follow. Only to be bludgeoned with blinding sunlight as the cave vanished at her wish.
 
His muscles coiled and tensed, immediately annoyed as he bit back a growl, but he remained where he was. He wouldn’t turn to her. Not that it mattered. He half expected her to blink and appear before him, but no. Stomp, stomp, stomp, and she was there rounding him to lock him in place with those violently green eyes. The blue-gray of his own narrowed. He liked the brown better. Didn’t care to say so just then.
 
A secret thrill of fear zipped down his spine and prickled at his cool skin. He wasn’t stupid. She was powerful and pissed. Bad things happened when she was pissed. Bad for him, anyway. What would she do next? Although, here lately, she often opted on just vanishing. Running away. She would always be unpredictable and he couldn't decide if he loved or hated that. He probably hated it.
 
"I didn't want you to listen to me," she said, and immediately he knew what she referred to.
Then say what you mean, he snapped back, clamping his mouth over the bite in his voice. The irritation felt like a million needles being stabbed into him, all along his back and his ribs. The sensation only irritated him further and he scowled at those vibrant green eyes in silence.
 
"Do you even want to be here?" she asked, and they were plunged into darkness once again as she magicked the cave back again. "Or are you only here because I brought you?"
 
He did growl then, low and almost inaudible, just a subtle rolling of gravel in his throat. It was hard not to wonder how successful he might be at trying again to kill her. Though, he assumed now his only progress in that area had only been because she’d chosen to allow him to. Why had she done that? To show him how futile it was to try? To make him think he could and then snatch it away? To see if he’d really go through with it? Well, he would. But he wasn’t foolish enough to try again.
 
Of course, I’m here because you brought me, he snarled back, his voice dangerously low. What kind of a question was that? He’d been perfectly happy in Nerine, had just secured his cave and the complete freedom to do whatever the hell he wanted in there without any repercussions whatsoever. And why the hell did she keep asking him what he wants?
 
His eyes cooled as he fell silent. Pensive, thoughtful.
Oh, that was rich.
 
He smiled, slow and smooth, and his voice fell soft for her as he stepped forward, drawing his muzzle down that familiar shoulder to her hip. Am I to believe you care about me, Djinni? She cared what he wanted, was that it? Did she care what made him happy? Or was it something else? Did she want to know if he would rather be back in Nerine? If he’d rather see Nayl, maybe? If he wanted to escape, or wanted his freedom? What was it?
 
His eyes met hers as he rounded slowly to her other hip, just barely resting his lips against her skin.
What are you really asking? he whispered.

[Djinni]

djinni

She can conjure the memory in an instant, remember each explicit detail of how he’d looked, relive every feeling she’d felt in the blink of an eye.

“I want you to be able to tell me anything. Any time.” “I don't want to stay away from you.”


Soaring, soaring, soaring. Crash.

She won’t admit to her own faults, won’t say she wants the very same of him, won’t concede to her overabundant supply of mixed-messages. He doesn’t feel the same way, doesn’t want to – she is sure of this, and that is what matters. He had just told her to say what she meant, and already she knows that she’d asked the wrong question – at least if she was looking for an answer.

Of course she’d brought him here.
She’d just wanted conformation that he’d not stayed only because he was kept.

(It doesn’t occur to Djinni that she’d never even given him a chance to choose whether to stay or go)

The grullo mare turns away, just for a moment. The lake glitters below them in the afternoon sun, reflecting bits of sun into her glassy eyes. Djinni blinks, brushing her grey cheeks with the impossibly long sweep of her lashes. Stillwater is quiet too, and for a moment she hopes that he has disappeared, moved farther into the darkness of the cave. It probably leads to the sea, she thinks idly, now that Pangea has been swept away.

His approach startles her, it is clear from the way she flinches away and looks up at him with startled doe-brown eyes. As his muzzle slides along her shoulder though, she does not continue to shy away. Instead she stands still, even her breath held tightly in her throat. She hears him – her black-tipped ears flick back to catch the words – but she doesn’t answer.

Water is trickling down the cave wall in front of her. It glints in the light, shining one moment than dull another as the trees at the mouth of the cave are buffeted by the spring wind. She wonders how long it will take the water to reach the lake below, and then eventually the sea. A very long time, she thinks.

“What are you really asking?” He says

“Do you love me?” She asks the cave wall. If she turns around she will disappear, Djinni is quite sure of it.

all my fragile strength is gone

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

She startled at his touch, turning slightly-wider brown eyes to him. Brown again, the damned woman. Why does she startle at his touch? Did she not want him to touch her at all? Even this small part? It burned in his throat like a hard liquor, but he continued anyway as she stilled under his attention. At least she hadn’t vanished yet, though she probably would at the slightest provocation. She was always disappearing.
 
She stared silently at the wall as he drew his mouth over her, along her hip and slowly over the curve of her rump to her other hip, stepping behind her and around. It had no affect on her. Still she stood, refusing to look at him. Was it disgust at his touch, now? Allowing him this just to humor him? He hated how confusing she was. Every time he tried to get close, she ran away. Every time he pulled back, she appeared again. Back and forth, they danced, and it was maddening. Was it her way of reminding him who he belonged to? Was it the tug on his leash, Remember me?
How could he forget.
 
Do you love me?
 
His skin cooled as he immediately removed the contact. He took his time quietly walking to her shoulder, his gut roiling uncomfortably, reaching his muzzle to nearly touch her neck as he made his way around to face her. He carefully refrained from brushing against her again. Maybe he’d always be attracted to her scent, her skin. It still urged him to dig at her walls, her armor. He ached to know all of her, and that, too, was maddening. What more was there to her? What else was she keeping from his hungry eyes? Throwing that word at him, love, was that a tool as well?

He stopped before her and stared into those damned earthy eyes, barely ignoring the desire to tilt her chin to him. What game was she playing at now?

Do you ever wonder if I'll attack you again? he asked suddenly, his tone flat. It hadn't been what he'd meant to ask, but it would do for now. He almost didn't expect her to answer, though. They had a habit of side-stepping each other's questions, neither one willing to step into that vulnerable light called Truth.

His eyes dulled and he took a step back, his smooth voice falling quieter though his expression was still blank and unreadable.

Do you keep me only because you know I am capable of protecting them?

[Djinni]

djinni

He pulls away as soon as she asks her question, but Djinni doesn’t look away from the trickling water. Djinni has done exactly as he’d asked, and she’s entirely sure she’ll get the answer she expects.

But she doesn’t.

Instead she gets Stillwater in front of her, blocking her previous point of focus and forcing her to look at him. For a moment, she avoids it, hiding behind the shelter of her frosted forelock. But if she’s not going to disappear, she might as well face him, and she puts it behind her ears with a toss of her head. The gentle jingling of her ringed ears are a momentary distraction, but Djinni eventually meets his gaze, her chin raised slightly still (whether a remnant of her head toss or in an effort to make herself seem less uncertain, it is not clear) to look into his cool blue-grey eyes.

She is glad Ivar has her eyes, she decides just then. She would not want to see Stillwater each time she looks at their son, not if this conversation is any indication of their relationship.

The black stallion does not give her an answer; only another question. Djinni frowns, her displeasure a contrast to his dull eyes as he steps away. The grullo mare doesn’t follow, but she does keep her eyes on his. Does she wonder if he’ll attack her again? Yes. The real question should have been: what will she do when he does? Will she let him? Again?

Djinni does not have the answer to that.

He asks another question even when she doesn’t answer, and the answer seems so ridiculous easy that she almost laughs. She doesn’t, but the scowl on her face is replaced by something that’s almost amused.

“Do you think I can’t protect them myself?” She asks in return; a cyclical continuance of what seems to be their standard method of interaction. No one says anything, not anything of real substance, and she’s only ever left feeling frustrated at the end.

“I can, you know.” She says, answering her own question with a rather decisive nod of her head.


“You’re the only thing keeping yourself here.” She adds, because it never occurs to her that he wouldn’t have tested the power of the chain around his ankle on a daily basis. Hadn’t he felt it weaken when she’d decided she wanted him here? Hadn’t he known?

“But if you’re having trouble remembering…” She glances down, and the anklet disappears.

“Go, now. If you really want to.” Djinni turns, putting distance between them and making the way out of the cave clear. Her mane falls across her eyes again, and this time she doesn’t shake it away. She’d rather not watch him leave.

all my fragile strength is gone

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

Mmm, there was that frown again. He was so good at finding that one, almost as if he could lightly blow on her face and her muscles would remember his touch and just pull together the rest of the way of their own. But that frown slipped into an almost smirk, amused by his question though she'd ignored the first. They did seem to do that, circling each other warily like fencers, looking for the opponent's weakness.

Looking to call a bluff that neither offered.

“Do you think I can't protect them myself?”
He smiled. Now he was amused too.

“I can, you know,” she said with an abrupt nod. He raised an elegant brow, but said nothing. So interesting. She hadn’t answered the question, again, but she gave him more than she realized.

”You’re the only thing keeping yourself here. But if you’re having trouble remembering…”

The cold weight of metal around his ankle vanished, as did his smile and amusement. His face blanked, but his eyes never left her, boring hard into hers and searching her face. The absence of the chain felt so loud, air and nothingness pressed all around him where a heavy cold used to be. He wanted to rub it, brush against the skin as though to test if it were another of her tricks. Or just to feel that he could touch skin now, instead of metal. But he remained still, his heart racing.

Put it back, he had nearly commanded. Why? That was the most ridiculous response. Of course, he didn't want it.

"Go, now. If you want to," she said, turning away from him. He frowned, still staring at her in silence. If he wanted to? Why wouldn't he want to. She knew how he craved his freedom.

In that moment, a countless number of choices and possible outcomes flashed in his mind, most of them dismissed and flicked away instantly. He could smell his freedom in the air, in the passage she'd opened up for him to leave. He could taste the salt of the sea in the other direction, further down the tunneling cave, to the coast, or even Nerine. The dark of this cave suddenly didn't have to be home anymore. That body of water just outside didn't have to be his only resting place. If he'd had his body, he could even utilize the vast ocean for swifter travel, more feeding grounds.

More feeding grounds.
He didn't have to stay here.
He didn't have to return here.

His mouth watered and his jaw ached as he turned his head to that salty tease, eyes burning just a little brighter. Greedy, hungry. His coat thinned, hairless and sleek in his eagerness. He didn't like the ocean, really. It felt coarser than the smooth, clean water of the lake, as though seaweed and grime magnetized tightly to his bare skin. Mild disgust settled in the pit of his stomach just thinking of it, but he couldn't deny the possibilities it could open for him even if he had to wade through it in this body. So many more options. So many more bodies. He could become stronger. Maybe if he did, he would finally have his real body. Not starved on this quiet, isolated diet.

He almost stepped forward, almost walked away. But his legs betrayed him and he flowed back to Djinni's side, his eyes the cool, murky blue again as they tried to find hers. Djinni, he murmured, pressing his satin-smooth side lightly to hers. His mouth gravitating to her shoulder, trailing so slowly up her neck. He should have left when he had the chance, why was he still here. She hadn't kept him for his usefulness. He'd gained that much in how she'd answered his question, a lack of denial, a gentle redirection. Then why had she kept him?

Enough games, Djinni. His voice was quiet, barely loud enough to be heard over the soft trickle of water down the cave walls. He didn't kiss her, but instead brushed his parted lips feather-light along the graceful curve in her neck, breathing her in and nearly tasting her. His exploring wandered to the soft hollow of tingling nerves between her jaw and throat where he finally did place a kiss, tender and cautious. Careful. Maybe he was pushing too much. She would lash out or disappear. But he didn't stop.

You kept me because you want me. Why can't you say it?

[Djinni]

djinni

His grin disappears, and in return Djinni smiles without mirth, revealing serrated teeth that are no less predatory than his own. Djinni has always preferred to hunt for amusement; she has never felt bloodlust toward any living thing. She has chased fish with their son, but she prefers her sustenance still, flat, and green.

Having turned now, she watches the sunlight dapple the forest floor outside the cave. It is easier to take in the way the wind ripples the water of the pond below than to wonder why he is taking so long to leave, easier to listen to the squirrels scurry overhead.

She has left the way clear, but he does not go. Djinni knows this game, she thinks, and raises her gaze to meet his pale eyes with her own dark ones, the smile having faded. Enough games he says, and though she does not scowl (does not let her face betray her), she does hesitate. His touch is smooth; it reminds her of the water, cool and still, it reminds her of Ivar and the moon. There is heat too, but that burns from inside her, fueled by his touch. It will only grow, she knows, spread from a slow kindling to a roaring blaze in the space of a heartbeat.

He kisses her throat and she pulls away, stepping back into the cooler darkness of the cave. For a moment she is almost gone, the indecision apparent in the faint shimmer of intangible golden sand that settles on the cave floor. She opens her mouth but nothing emerges but a quiet sigh. There is too much to say; too much to feel.

Life had been simpler before the Reckoning.

She had never wanted anything she could not immediately have. She has never felt, never been able to. She wants Stillwater; this she can say to herself. She even loves him (that is harder to admit). Hers is not a selfless love; she is a jealous creature that has been made predictable with her promise to Nayl.

She is responsible.

The grullo mare has not buried Karaugh beneath the mountains or lured Luster to the fires of Tephra. She’s kept Sylva safe and kept her word, but she’s not tried to truly keep Stillwater.

She is afraid that she won’t be able to, and her fear of failure is paralyzing. Vulnerability is terrifying, so she watches him with wary eyes.

If he were gone she would not be in this predicament, and the idea is more appealing than Stillwater would probably be comfortable with. But she can’t kill him; Ivar needs him. Still…

Her mind flicks from one possibility to the next: no, no, no.

“I want you to want me back.”

The words are short, clipped, and hard. Her brown eyes are no longer soft; Djinni had not wished – only wanted. She looks defiant, and for a moment it seems that is all she has to say. It is not.

“Only me.”

all my fragile strength is gone

[Stillwater]

Stillwater

She let him feel just a tiny flicker of hope, allowing him to melt to her side and touch her, trail his lips up her neck. He loved to. He loved to do it to her. But, as always, the hope was stolen away as she slipped away from his kiss at her throat. His eyes closed with a sigh, because growling as he wanted to would have been worse. Bolting after her and taking her would have been worse.

He still hadn't tasted her.
He'd torn her open when he tried to kill her, but he still had never drank from her. And he wanted to. But that was reckless, and impossibly unwise.

He also just ached to touch her. For her to really let him. She was always denying him. He was tired of chasing after her. Tired of the constant rejection.

His frustration was already growing, and he took a single step backwards, his eyes opening to land on the dusting of sand at her feet. His chest tightened with some sort of pain, then flared hot with bitter anger. She wanted to leave, so why didn't she? Why did she toy with him? His jaw clenched and his heart burned, but he said nothing, pulling stone-hard eyes up to meet hers.

"I want you to want me back."
Her voice was clipped, sharp. I want you NOW, nearly burst from him but he wisely kept his mouth shut, nostrils flaring. If they wanted each other then why the hell were they both nearly scowling. If she wanted him, why did she always turn from him? Why did she always run away? He did growl then, low and distant, the pressure of his frustration forcing it out.

"Only me."

It fell solid and heavy between them and his rumbling silenced. His face blanked to a mask again and his mind raced. It already was only her. He hadn't had sex with anyone else, didn't want to. Was that what she meant? No, she wanted him to want her, and only her. Want her. Want her. Only her. More frustration tangled in his chest, tensed his spine. He couldn't put those words together. They were too vague, too certain. Saying it would be a vow. A vow he can't make. Bound to her for life. She wanted him to want her, only her.

I -- can't.
But he could, he was capable. The lie wouldn't leave his lips.
I -- don't want you.
But he did. Wanted to taste her. And the words cut off again.

He growled again. Come here, he commanded instead, his voice as hard and sharp as hers had been.

He wasn't capable of wanting someone, only one someone. And yet he was. But he needed to feed, he would want others because he would want to feed. He couldn't want her, only her, because he needed to feed. Her blood alone would not be enough, he would weaken. He needed the flesh, the bone, the organs, everything. He would want for them. The words were too vague, he didn't have time to work his way around them. He could say the words. Then be trapped to them. He would be held to it, would want her and only her. It wouldn't be enough and he'd weaken, He'd die.

No, it didn't matter anyway. She only thought she wanted him. But she didn't know, not really. Didn't know what he was, what he even really looked like. He didn't have the power to show her, or anyone. This.. body was only a part of him, a small part, only the disguise he wore to lure his prey. And he was trapped in it. He couldn't explain that to her, didn't want to. They were supposed to want him. They were prey. She was prey.

Come here, he demanded again, eyes flashing silver and bright.