08-30-2019, 02:17 AM
I just want to let you know: my mind refuses to let you go
I want to hypnotize you so you will remember me
I want to hypnotize you so you will remember me
Curse this dragon-sight. It must have blinded him. He’d have preferred to stay blind.
Frozen to his spot, the scaled roan watches what he does not want to see. What he does not want to know, unfolds before him like a rattling black-and-white movie from the fifties; no sounds reach his ears, all colours drained from the world - and all of it in a sort of slow-motion. He has no grip. He’s falling.
She asked for a break, he remembers. Or actually, she told him she’d take it. Now. Then. He accepted that. Foolish him, he accepted everything she said and did. She wanted him to be loyal to her, only her - they could not undo the past, but he’d done it from that moment on. A promise so easily made, and so easily kept. For her, he’d do anything. Everything he did, from the moment they first met, had already been for her or otherwise touched by her influence. He was hers long before they knew it. He took her with him, takes her with him, everywhere he goes, everywhere he has been.
That’s not bad. For two people to love, to be devoted to one another, that’s all fine. It’s the best thing to have ever happened. It was a little piece of heaven, and for a time he’d had everything he wanted. She a queen, he, well, whatever she wanted him to be. Her safekeeper mostly. There were the most beautiful children in all the world. Then after the fourth, she announced her break, and he’d given her the freedom to leave, though he stayed to raise their youngest properly, on the Isle. Only then did he follow.
Time had been kind to them, and the absence of magic a welcome relief for both. For her it had been respite from feeling others’ emotions - and his were always the heaviest on her, he knew even if she never admitted to it - for him it meant a normal horse’s diet and a normal horse’s appearance. It was good to just be approached, without others thinking him fearsome, with his large build, scales, ice, and pointy teeth.
But in the end he longed for home and he left her. He’d wait for her here, in Beqanna.
How long had she waited before she moved back? Perhaps not as long as he’d thought.
How long had this been going on? They seemed familiar to one another, like old friends. Or - dare he think it - old lovers. Perhaps from a time before he ever came into her life. Perhaps this male below, this male she was now dancing with, had always been in the back of her mind.
He knows his children are his, they’re easy to distinguish. So never in breeding season, never like now.
What was she planning to do then? Stay away and pretend to still be in the other lands? Come back pregnant after she cheated, make love to him too, pretend the baby’s his? Would he have known? Would they be kelpie?
Would she keep up the ruse for as long as she could? How long had she kept this from him before?
He remembers the purple threat. That abomination had threatened not only his wife, but also someone else’s lover. He’d paid with his looks and his life that same day, and good riddance. But the blue kelpie… she likes him. She goes willingly. She wants him. He can see that.
He can see all of it now.
He’s always the fool in the stories. The trickster tricked, he silently names this chapter.
He sees all that happens, and from the looks of it, she doesn’t even think of him. And why would she? He’s never been important, he was only a plaything after all. Not worth mentioning in important meetings unless he stuck his nose into them. Not worth thinking of when he wasn’t around. The kelpie has caught her attention instead, so why would she?
Perhaps she never loved him.
He sees the movements, the teasing back and forth, but the kelpie male doesn’t force her into the water.
She does all of that herself, as skinny as she is. She trusts him to guide and protect her, and she goes into the water.
What happens in the water is best left in the water. But it’s the image of her willingness that’s engraved in his mind.
He stays away from them, immovable. He stays long after they’re gone.
A statue made of ice.
Frozen to his very spot.
Frozen to his spot, the scaled roan watches what he does not want to see. What he does not want to know, unfolds before him like a rattling black-and-white movie from the fifties; no sounds reach his ears, all colours drained from the world - and all of it in a sort of slow-motion. He has no grip. He’s falling.
She asked for a break, he remembers. Or actually, she told him she’d take it. Now. Then. He accepted that. Foolish him, he accepted everything she said and did. She wanted him to be loyal to her, only her - they could not undo the past, but he’d done it from that moment on. A promise so easily made, and so easily kept. For her, he’d do anything. Everything he did, from the moment they first met, had already been for her or otherwise touched by her influence. He was hers long before they knew it. He took her with him, takes her with him, everywhere he goes, everywhere he has been.
That’s not bad. For two people to love, to be devoted to one another, that’s all fine. It’s the best thing to have ever happened. It was a little piece of heaven, and for a time he’d had everything he wanted. She a queen, he, well, whatever she wanted him to be. Her safekeeper mostly. There were the most beautiful children in all the world. Then after the fourth, she announced her break, and he’d given her the freedom to leave, though he stayed to raise their youngest properly, on the Isle. Only then did he follow.
Time had been kind to them, and the absence of magic a welcome relief for both. For her it had been respite from feeling others’ emotions - and his were always the heaviest on her, he knew even if she never admitted to it - for him it meant a normal horse’s diet and a normal horse’s appearance. It was good to just be approached, without others thinking him fearsome, with his large build, scales, ice, and pointy teeth.
But in the end he longed for home and he left her. He’d wait for her here, in Beqanna.
How long had she waited before she moved back? Perhaps not as long as he’d thought.
How long had this been going on? They seemed familiar to one another, like old friends. Or - dare he think it - old lovers. Perhaps from a time before he ever came into her life. Perhaps this male below, this male she was now dancing with, had always been in the back of her mind.
He knows his children are his, they’re easy to distinguish. So never in breeding season, never like now.
What was she planning to do then? Stay away and pretend to still be in the other lands? Come back pregnant after she cheated, make love to him too, pretend the baby’s his? Would he have known? Would they be kelpie?
Would she keep up the ruse for as long as she could? How long had she kept this from him before?
He remembers the purple threat. That abomination had threatened not only his wife, but also someone else’s lover. He’d paid with his looks and his life that same day, and good riddance. But the blue kelpie… she likes him. She goes willingly. She wants him. He can see that.
He can see all of it now.
He’s always the fool in the stories. The trickster tricked, he silently names this chapter.
He sees all that happens, and from the looks of it, she doesn’t even think of him. And why would she? He’s never been important, he was only a plaything after all. Not worth mentioning in important meetings unless he stuck his nose into them. Not worth thinking of when he wasn’t around. The kelpie has caught her attention instead, so why would she?
Perhaps she never loved him.
He sees the movements, the teasing back and forth, but the kelpie male doesn’t force her into the water.
She does all of that herself, as skinny as she is. She trusts him to guide and protect her, and she goes into the water.
What happens in the water is best left in the water. But it’s the image of her willingness that’s engraved in his mind.
He stays away from them, immovable. He stays long after they’re gone.
A statue made of ice.
Frozen to his very spot.
When your fears are cast aside, will you remember me?
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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